One of the primary tasks of librarians is the classification of materials. Classifying materials into logical groupings and orderings is essential in order to ensure individual items in a collection can be located and to allow for serendipitous discovery of related works via browsing. All classification systems to some extent encode the reality of the culture and values of the society that produces them. And since that social context continues to evolve, so too must classification systems evolve in order to continue meeting the needs of modern information seekers. Classification system maintainers must balance the need for consistency (e.g. making sure a work can be found by not changing its classifier too often) and the need for modernity (e.g. making sure the work is classified where a modern information seeker would look for it). The two most common classification systems used in libraries in the United States are the Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC), and the Library of Congress Classification (LCC). Let’s examine how each approaches this balance.
The first version of DDC was originally written in 1876 by Melvil Dewey. In the original editions, what little there was on LGBTQ topics could be found classified under “Mental Derangements.” In 1965 they moved to “Neurological Disorders,” 1989 moved them to “Social Problems.” It wasn’t until 1996 that LGBTQ topics were moved to 306, the section for “Sexual Relations.” Unfortunately, many works are still classified under “Social Problems.” This examination of how a particular topic has been reclassified over time to match the cultural norms of society is an example of a classification system moving in the direction of affirming diversity and reducing bias.
In contrast, DDC dedicates 70 of the 100 section entries on religion specifically to Christianity. 20 are reserved for works that address religion as a concept in itself, and only 10 are used for all other specific religions. Despite the obvious bias displayed in that allocation and many objections raised, it has remained static since the original publication. This is good news for Christian theologians who memorized the relevant code points as young seminarians, but most of the world would likely find this a startling lack of inclusivity to persist for so long.
LCC, while better in some areas, still has its own problems. Rather than grouping things by numbers, the top-level classifications in LCC are based on letters. Of the 21 letters currently in use, 2 are assigned to History of the Americas, while only 1 is assigned for world history and that of all other continents. This shows a U.S./American-centric bias. Similarly, despite designating Q for Science, LCC utilizes 2 letters specifically for military and naval sciences, which parallel’s the U.S. prioritization of military spending over non-military scientific endeavor.
In 1970, the American Library Association formed the Task Force on Gay Liberation in part to lobby for changes of LGBTQ work classification in LCC. Now known as the Rainbow Round Table, the group describes itself as “the nation’s first gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender professional organization.” LCC had, since 1910, classified LGBTQ topics under “Abnormal Sex Relations” and “Sexual Deviation” and “Sexual Perversion.” Working alongside many other groups, they have successfully lobbied LCC to relocate these works from the shelves for sex crimes and pedophilia to the “Marriage and Family” section. While their efforts to change LCC have met with some success, there is still a great deal of work to be done, especially as librarians across the country continue to fight the war against book banning for these marginalized groups.
Classification systems matter. Placing books on LGBTQ topics under mental derangement for DDC or sexual perversion for LCC indicates to the information seeker that gender, sexuality and romantic minority identities belong in those categories. Imagine a queer child, wanting to learn about the riots at Stonewall, having to ask a librarian for directions to the abnormal sex relations section of the library. Or imagine being a visibly queer librarian and having to shelve books on your own history under those categories. Classification of knowledge is a sacred responsibility, with power to do great good as well as great harm. As librarians, we must strive to create collections and classification systems that are diverse, equitable, and inclusive of all cultures, not just our own. And rather than staying trapped in the past, when we’re told we missed the mark, we need to own our shortcomings and improve.