Editorial: The Krug Contribution

Despite a few battles with her, I have always admired Judith Krug. She's been director of the American Library Association (ALA) Office for Intellectual Freedom (OIF) since its founding in 1967. Her service to intellectual freedom, without doubt ALA's most important cause or, if you like, core value, has been tremendous. Under Krug, OIF became one of the nation's most important agencies engaged in the fundamental work of protecting the rights of Americans to free expression, freedom of inquiry, and privacy in their pursuit of information. More than any other activity, ALA's work on intellectual freedom—including that of the sibling Freedom To Read Foundation, also headed by Krug—has captured national attention and given ALA and librarianship huge prestige throughout the world.

While that effort is laudable enough, my own respect and admiration for Krug was magnified and deepened by two encounters with her. Krug is one of the few leaders in ALA and the library profession who has been able to convince the association that it should put its money—lots of money—where its mouth is. The old ALA has always found it easy to dish out lip service to a host of causes, but when it came time to spend money—especially endowment money guarded by its Endowment Trustees as if it were their own—forget it. That money has always been next to impossible to get at or to spend. Until Krug, ALA had never before come through at such a price or for a cause as crucial to the profession's values.

It cost millions, and the victories have been sometimes simply moral ones, but ALA has fought multiple cases of Internet censorship in state and federal courts. ALA even achieved a partial victory in the June 2003 Supreme Court decisions regarding the Children's Internet Protection Act (CIPA). Proponents of filtering wanted total filtering on library computers, except for "bona fide research," a term that would engender endless debate. The court said CIPA was constitutional, but, in a crucial concurrence, two justices said that libraries should turn off the filter if an adult requested it. Most of the credit for getting ALA to put up more than a million dollars to take that case to the nation's highest court must go to Krug. She fought that battle with her usual vigor, despite many critics who said it was too expensive for a case we couldn't win. The legal triumph was small, but the victory for principle was huge.

The second Krug encounter was a debate I had with her at a state library association conference many years ago. At that time I took the position that if we were to agree to what I thought were reasonable limitations on the access of children (12 or 13 years old and under) to library materials, we should liberate access for adults. I felt that ALA was naïve to take the position that children should have free access to all library materials. I thought we could rate library content the way movies are rated. Krug took the position that children, like adults, have rights of access to information. Even though I stuck to my guns through that particular debate, she changed my mind. She convinced me that there are a host of circumstances in which children must have freedom to seek and get information, regardless of their age. I don't have space here to review her compelling arguments on that very difficult question, but they have been important to me as my career has developed. I owe Krug a great deal for the deep understanding she provided.

Back in April, Krug's daughter, Michelle Krug Litchman, wrote to say her mother would receive an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters from the University of Illinois. She was collecting letters from her mother's colleagues to bind into a souvenir of the occasion. I feel as though I know Michelle, mentioned so often by her mother over the years, although I don't think we have ever met.

So, Michelle, here's my letter. I hope you don't mind that I decided to share my admiration for your mother with everyone who reads Library Journal.

jberry@reedbusiness.com