The Need To Be Anonymous: Empowering and liberating free expression | Blatant Berry

I’m always surprised when librarians who read LJ complain because we allow anonymous comments to be published or posted. In a message on our Feedback page, Andrea Segall, a retired librarian who worked at the Berkeley Public Library, CA, and is involved in a protest against that library’s current weeding practices and program, takes LJ to task for allowing anonymous comment.

“I’m disappointed that LJ permits this cowardly method of communication. People should be required to identify themselves when submitting opinions and information,” writes Segall.

Segall is an old friend of mine. I usually agree with her, but not this time. Anonymity is a key protection that empowers free expression from those who might otherwise be afraid or intimidated into remaining quiet. Many in our field (and others) are muzzled by their need for employment and relationships with colleagues or desire not to be labeled a troublemaker, or worse.

Anyone who works in an institution will surely think twice before publicly expressing their opposition to the policies of that institution, or speaking out on any other issues that might make them appear to be against their managers, bosses, or governing authorities. Such pressures exist and not only in the mind of the would-be speaker. Dozens of librarians have been told not to comment publicly on concerns that have been decided upon by their administrators and trustees.

While LJ prefers that people identify themselves in letters and comments for publication, its policy also includes permission to post or write anonymously. Over the decades that policy has empowered many disaffected or disgruntled library employees to express the reasons for their unhappiness. This has frequently spurred managers and leaders to revise policies and change practices that were causing difficulty but that their employees were fearful of addressing openly.

We feel more reliably informed when we know who is delivering the message. That is why I sign my name to everything I write. But, like Segall, I have an advantage. My career peaked long ago. I am in no danger of being subjected to any meaningful retribution, and, as a retiree, neither is Segall. Those who still work for the Berkeley Public Library are probably restrained by that relationship.

In an ideal world we could all disagree with and even attack our bosses and leaders and their policies without fear of reprisal. In the real world, a young librarian often finds it preferable for his or her career, peer interaction, and credibility to remain silent and avoid the risk of open argument. I believe it is better for our field for such librarians, library workers, and patrons to speak up anonymously rather than not to speak at all.

Many will label the use of anonymity as cowardly. One of my favorite regular posters to LJ’s online comments section signs his or her messages “Anonymous Coward.” I don’t see it that way. Of course it is motivated by anxiety over possible retaliation, but that seems like good judgment to me. I would stay anonymous, too, if it protected me from career difficulties or an unfriendly working environment.

Anonymity is as American as the Fourth of July. Thomas Paine’s Common Sense, which incited our revolution, was first published anonymously.

Yes, anonymity can frequently hide the biases and prejudices of those who comment. It can allow parties who have a major stake in the outcome of debates to hide that fact. The anonymous can, and often do, use language and make charges that are stronger and more snarky. But there can be as much misinformation in signed comments as there is in unsigned ones. We are smart enough to figure out the misinformation and hyperbole in either. The added accountability of messages from identified speakers is hardly as valuable as the open expression empowered by allowing commenters to remain anonymous. It can even improve the debate, by forcing commenters to focus on the merits—or lack thereof—of the argument itself rather than on who said what.