Making the library of the future identifying the zone of proximal development for a Norwegian public library makerspace

ABSTRACT

This article presents a cultural-historical analysis of what making becomes in the transition to a public library makerspace in Norway. We pursue this topic by applying the concept of expansive learning, and ethnographic notes, interviews, official documents, and video data comprise the data for analysis. We focus on historical changes in Norwegian public library policy, how systemic needs become visible in how making emerges, and how staff re-construct making for primary school children. Findings suggest a Zone of Proximal Development for children’s making that moves toward a pedagogy for real-world problem-finding and storytelling.

Introduction

The statement “everybody can make,” once said by one of the early innovators in the maker movement, is currently finding resonance in library policy and research (Hatch, 2014; Willett, 2016). Libraries have always emphasized sharing, community-building, cultural diversity, freedom of speech, empowerment, and democratization of cultural tools. To a certain extent, these ideas also align with maker ideology (Barniskis, 2016; Sheridan et al., 2014; Willett, 2016). However, even though the maker movement and public library institutions are informed by similar ideologies, introducing making into public libraries represents a substantial transformation (Moorefield-Lang & Coker, 2019; Willett, 2018). Traditionally, the primary purpose of libraries has been to provide public access to books. In recent years, the humanist conceptions of the library have been challenged, from being a repository of information and knowledge to providing hands-on and exploratory learning within STEAM disciplines (Willett, 2018). Introducing making implies a change toward more practical activities for visitors to the library. Library-based making has been contested (Jochumsen et al., 2017), and research has begun to document struggles in implementing making in institutional settings (Marsh et al., 2017). This article examines what happens when making is introduced into a library on personal, interactional, and institutional levels.

Research on institutional change in libraries often focuses on the individual librarian as a unit of analysis, emphasizing the skill set a maker-librarian needs to succeed in their work (Filar-Williams & Folkman, 2017; Moorefield-Lang & Coker, 2019). A similar attention to the skill set librarians need to run makerspaces is also emerging in research on making in libraries.

When making is adopted from an informal to an institutional setting, expectations of what making is and how to facilitate making may change. Cultural historical frameworks for studying making are a lens for studying the challenges and opportunities this cultural exchange affords. For example, one study of making across kindergarten and a science museum shows how challenges in implementing making in their practices were leading participants toward pedagogical innovation instead of adopting ready-made ideas about making (Jornet et al., 2019). Our study of making in a public library contributes to this line of research by focusing on how staff changes pedagogy for making.

Drawing on Cultural-Historical Activity Theory (CHAT), we argue that there is a need to examine the interrelationship between the institution and the practices going on there. Instead of focusing on the individual as the locus of change, we focus on the zone of proximal development (ZPD) for the activity system (Engeström, 2015). The ZPD of an activity system appears when actors become aware of historically formed habits and start to question what is taken for granted. Habits typically become apparent at moments when multiple practices intersect. When questioning of the taken-for-granted practices occurs, a solution to the problem rests in the space between the present everyday actions and a new form of activity. Therefore, the ZPD is qualitatively new, not a combination of two practices.

Here, we analyze the critical transformation of making in a library context from a pilot project to a more established practice in one Norwegian public library. The makerspace constituted a response to new policies during a critical workplace innovation phase requiring creative activities in the library. The makerspace was first financed as an experimental project that would be incorporated into their daily practice when moving into a brand new library building. From the perspective of CHAT, making needs to be redefined to sustain in the new context. In situations where two systems meet, tensions are likely to appear (Hasu & Engeström, 2000), and these tensions are manifestations of systemic contradictions (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). We are interested in the contradictions that arise when making is introduced and how these contradictions reveal possibilities for changing our understanding of making in the library – defining a ZPD for what making might become on this site.

It is in concrete everyday practices that these contradictions become visible. Therefore, we use the realization of one maker activity, implemented in the children’s department, as a case for studying historically evolved contradictions within this context. To investigate the potential opportunities of making in a library context, we address the following research questions:

1. How do the historically developed practices of libraries become relevant in how making is realized in a library context?

2. What tensions occur during implementation, and what are the contradictions manifest in these tensions?

3. What constitutes the potential future developments of public library makerspaces?

Makerspaces in public libraries

In this section, we discuss relevant research helping us understand the public library context, examples of how libraries have approached making, and the tensions that occur when making is introduced.

Makerspaces in libraries align with a Nordic trend in public library transformation that emphasizes the societal role of libraries, advancing the library as “little city halls,” allowing for active citizenship by providing access to information and creating possibilities for influence and involvement in decision-making (V. Miettinen, 2018). Including makerspaces in public libraries connects to this view by underlining how making things align with the idea of citizenship as co-producing culture (Jochumsen et al., 2017). This idea is conceptualized as a general performative turn in public libraries, and it is argued that the maker mind-set that “everybody can make” resonates well with the performative turn by empowering the general public through making (Willett, 2016). However, there is no agreement on whether the performative turn represents change or a continuation of old practices.

According to Jochumsen et al. (2012), the performative turn does not necessarily represent a radical shift but rather extends previous practices connected to enlightenment philosophy, emphasizing free access to knowledge. Hapel (2020), on the other hand, understands performative spaces as a historically new aspect of library practice because users’ needs are much more central than in the official activities offered by the library. Focus on user needs may, in turn, be understood as including informants in project planning or inviting visitors to be active co-producers of a new future (V. Miettinen, 2018). According to this view, co-producing planned courses differs from participation in makerspaces in that collaboration and civic engagement are the activity itself (Hapel, 2020).

Despite these efforts to change library practices, a multi-country comparison of public librarians’ perceptions of their role highlights perceptions associated with traditional librarianship, such as providing open and free access to the library collection, as their primary obligation as librarians (Johnston et al., 2021). Collections in a library consist of literature and other materials stored at the library and can include, for example, musical instruments, board games, computer games, and a makerspace with its content of tools and materials. At the same time, strong support for the emerging social role of libraries was identified (Johnston et al., 2021). In comparison to this international study on librarians, a survey covering only Nordic countries shows that the library’s new role has a low ranking among library visitors (Audunson et al., 2019). The study shows that the library as a social space and as an arena for public debate and making in the library, was the lowest of the 12 reasons for using the library, with making ranked number 10.

Makerspaces in libraries typically include “makerspace tools” such as laser cutters and 3D printers, although there are examples of libraries approaching making by providing easy publishing and printing of books, novel writing, and craft-based storytelling for children (Nicholson, 2019). When making was introduced to libraries, ideas about learning were adopted from the maker movement. In 2011, a journalist in Make Magazine stated: “If the only public space where 3D printers, laser cutters, and learning electronics happens in fee-/membership-based spaces (TecShps, hackerspaces), that will leave out a segment of the population, who will never have access” (Hamilton & Schmidt, 2014). The trend for public libraries has followed the maker movement in the idea that democratizing access to tools generates entrepreneurship and mobilizes citizens (Diaz et al., 2021). The maker movement typically portrays learning in line with a constructionist theory of learning (Dougherty, 2012; Halverson & Sheridan, 2014). Learning by constructing can be described as a playful and self-driven process of tinkering or improvisation with problem-solving in mind (Petrich et al., 2013). Through the lens of the maker movement, learning in makerspaces should be child-centered and self-driven, provide opportunities to improvise and fail, and support creativity and motivation (Regalla, 2016; Sheridan et al., 2014; Dougherty, 2012).

As learning in makerspaces is portrayed as self-driven and self-directed, makerspaces have also been understood as communities of practice (CoPs) (Sheridan et al., 2014) or affinity spaces (Willett, 2016), where like-minded people come together to learn and explore. Willett (2016) argues that inherent in the concept of affinity spaces is an exclusive gathering of like-minded people, which often excludes non-digital creative expressions. Several other studies indicate that making in libraries is contested and challenging to maintain.

Audunson et al. (2019) suggest that libraries include makerspaces to attract visitors and increase visitor statistics more than actually to change library practice. In a study of Danish libraries, it was reported that makerspaces tended to become “add-ons” to the core practice and foreign to the library staff (A. M. Einarsson, 2021), and challenges in maintaining makerspaces in everyday practice beyond implementation were reported (A. M. Einarsson, 2021; Koh & Abbas, 2015). Challenges in engaging new users are also increasingly reported, and it is argued that novices do not have the knowledge needed to use the makerspace (Dreessen & Schepers, 2018; Á. M. Einarsson & Hertzum, 2020; Koh & Abbas, 2015; Taylor et al., 2016). Facilitating learning has been a growing interest in libraries, and it is argued that the maker movement has explicitly pushed this change (Kevane & Sundstrom, 2014).

Empirical studies report that learning orientation includes constructionist educational activities for children, such as allowing for tinkering with computer programming (Bevan et al., 2015). The learning-by-tinkering approach invites children to solve problems in programming creatively and improvisationally, using feedback from the program as a source for learning. Interviews with librarians describing how they understand learning aligns with the tinkering concept, as they described learning as a process of excitement, co-creation, discovery, and collaboration (Lakind, 2018). However, the informants showed a remarkable gap in how they talk about learning and describe their teaching. They used words such as being taught, told, or shown a skill when talking about teaching. Moreover, creative ideas were understood as something “popping up” from the mind, not something constructed in interaction with the social and material environment. The focus on teaching as demonstrating technical skills is found in several other studies (Bartlett & Bos, 2018; LaConte et al., 2022; Willett, 2018).The trend to engage librarians in teaching making seems to have decreased in recent years, and libraries report a lack of technical competence as a challenge (Nicholson, 2019). Collaborating with external partners is one alternative way to meet competence needs (Nicholson, 2019). Partnerships have been established to foster problem-solving among staff and take advantage of partners’ networks and contacts. Moreover, it is argued that seeking partners for new knowledge resonates with policies asking for civic engagement, as partners are often recruited from the local community (Williams & Willett, 2019).

Similar ideas are suggested in the case of the Bubbler project in Wisconsin (Lakind et al., 2019). With the motto “people, not stuff,” the librarians understood their task as providing access to people and experiences. Many librarians in the study framed this role in supporting making as a more appropriate model than the more common “room with equipment” model. The researchers argue that the participation gap in technology indicates that being a designer of the world is not so much about having access to tools but about having the experience and the social connections needed to know how to use the tools in meaningful production (Lakind et al., 2019).

Summarizing our review of the field, making in libraries connects to public library development but is yet contested. There is a growing interest in finding new concepts for making that extend previous ideas about learning in makerspaces, both for teaching and content. Moreover, the introduction of makerspaces in libraries is only one aspect of moving the institution toward a performative turn. This institutional aspect has not been studied enough as an element of what making becomes in public libraries. The aim of changing the institution implies more than establishing a makerspace. Central changes to policy, legislation, and division of labor typically follow such changes, as may also follow in how the library puts forward its making practices. We fill this gap by introducing CHAT as an approach to studying making in public libraries, with the aim of defining the zone of proximal development for making at the library. A most exciting aspect of activity theory is the focus on tensions and contradictions as an opportunity for change rather than failure (Engeström, 2015). This approach allows for analyzing situations where the aim is to forge a desirable culture instead of acquiring an existing one. Makerspaces in the form found in informal settings seem challenging to adopt within a library context, and the CHAT approach affords a lens into how future library making might look. Because CHAT analysis implies a study of how participants within the library system re-construct what making is and may be in their efforts to meet systemic contradictions, the approach affords a method for bottom-up library innovation. The following section describes the CHAT approach and the concepts used for analyzing the ZPD.

CHAT as a lens to understand library making

Understanding library making through the lens of CHAT implies a focus on the activity system and how it changes (Arnseth, 2008; Engeström, 2015; M. Miettinen, 1999). The approach requires analysis of multiple levels relevant to determining the system. Leontev (1978) describes the levels as: 1. The collective, object-oriented activity directed by motives; 2. Actions directed by short-term goals and operations at the action level; 3. Using the tools at hand. The concept of object-oriented activity explains the relationship between the three levels.

The object-orientedness of collective human activity implies that all actions are ideal and material: when we change our material environment, we simultaneously change our thinking (Engeström, 2015). This process carries motives – the ideas we hold that drive and provide direction to our practices. Moreover, actions in day-to-day practice carry societal needs (Roth, 2014), as the work of changing our environment is a collective endeavor. Analyzing the object of library making implies following the cultural-historical emergence of public library making, how work in the library (such as including a 3D printer) disturbs and changes how making is thought about, and how the practice is changing form and purpose. This approach to analysis comprises the three levels of analysis required for determining the ZPD of a system: the object-historical, the theory-historical, and the actual empirical levels of analysis (Engeström, 2015). The following section explains how contradictions drive systemic change and where the ZPD of activity systems is to be found.

Analyzing the ZPD of activity systems

Expansive learning is a central concept and a methodology for determining the ZPD of a system (Engeström, 2015). The concept of expansive learning is used in settings ranging from post offices and factories to schools, hospitals, and newsrooms (Engeström et al., 2013). Research utilizing this approach typically focuses the analysis on activity systems facing a significant transformation, like the case of this Norwegian public library (Engeström, 2015). In this case, we analyze the changing object of one public library makerspace: How the makerspace came about as an answer to changing policies, how these changes led to contradictions in the system pushing staff to re-configure how to do making in the library, and how the re-configurations connect to central problems discussed in Norwegian public library policy since its beginning.

In this case, contradictions are not necessarily negative, as a contradiction may be a motor for change and new insights. Understanding contradictions as steps toward development requires an identification of the contradictions in the system, how they work as a motor in the transformation of activity, and how tensions suggest possible changes for the future (Foot & Groleau, 2011). It is vital to note that contradictions cannot be understood as opposite opinions (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). Tensions and conflicts are symptoms/manifestations of contradictions in the activity system. Figure 1 in section 5 represents the primary contradictions found in our case. Because of the systemic contradictions, agents try to make sense of, re-configure, or construct new practices. In this case, for example, questioning a practice of copying 3D designs drove efforts into re-configuring an inventor course for children (further explained in the findings section). The aim of our analysis is to identify the ZPD of this public library. Engeström (2015, p. 138) defines ZPD as:

Figure 1. The primary contradiction of this public library. The potentially new object is an unresolved contradiction and the space where the ZPD of activity systems lies.

The distance between the present everyday actions of the individuals and the historically new form of the societal activity that can be collectively generated as a solution to the double bind potentially embedded in the everyday actions.

Four concepts have been central for analyzing the ZPD in this study: the primary contradictions/artifacts, the need state, and the secondary contradictions/artifacts and tertiary contradictions/artifacts. In Engeström’s theorizing, all systemic contradictions will find their premises in a primary contradiction (Engeström, 2015). The primary contradiction is a fundamental polarity between independence and subordination in human society that moves activity forward (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). For example, in pre-capitalist societies, subordination was visible as asymmetric relationships between landlord and farmer (Engeström, 2015). In our case, this polarity was a primary contradiction between self-driven education and the centrally governed policies of including all citizens in such activity.

The primary contradiction represents an ever-present need state that stays hidden until a secondary contradiction provokes habitual ways of thinking – and the need state is where the zone of proximal development lies. The process where the need state becomes visible often arises when two practices start to exchange, and an awareness of habits appears (Engeström, 2015, p. 67), uncovering what was taken for granted as something that should be changed. These processes always connect to objects, which are the primary and secondary artifacts. The primary artifact is a repetitive part of the central practice. For example, in this case, the primary artifact was the collection of books in the library.

The secondary artifact is not a tacit part of the daily practice but results from a conscious struggle. Secondary artifacts aim to model new solutions. In this case, the makerspace pilot was analyzed as a secondary artifact. Secondary artifacts must be re-constructed to remain stable in change (Engeström, 2015). In this case, the iterative production of an inventor course was analyzed as re-configuration. In Engeström’s theorizing, the re-configuration process depends on changing the object in a way that goes beyond the originally adopted practice and includes the awareness of contradictions (Engeström, 2015). This process is ideally a re-purposing of the secondary artifact toward new ends. This means a qualitatively new way of doing making in the library that re-configures both making and the central system of public libraries. This solution termed the tertiary artifact, holds a potentially new shared object/motive. Accordingly, if a makerspace adopted from a different activity system is not re-configured, there is a danger that the project may reproduce contradictions, leading to deprivation instead of fruitful change. The following section describes the research setting and methods used for analyzing the zone of proximal development for this public library makerspace.

Data collection, participants, and methodology

Data

Data are produced to cover the three levels of analyses required in expansive research methodology: object-historical, theory-historical, and actual-empirical analysis (Engeström, 2015). The focus of analysis was the introduction of making in one Norwegian public library, and we collected data covering object-historical, theory-historical, and actual-empirical levels for this site. Informal maker-culture has not been studied at the empirical level, but as ideas introduced to the library by staff and the network of information, institutions, and organizations they connect. Making as the introduced new activity is thus studied at the theory-historical and object-historical levels and not as a well-bounded empirical system. Our data include documents, interviews, and field notes, and the data sources complement each other in the analysis. Author 1 conducted nine semi-structured interviews of approximately 1 hour with key staff, and field notes were collected during approximately 34 hours of participant observation in the library. Author 1 observed activities in the pilot makerspace after the re-organization of the library. Observations of children’s making were made during “Inventor Course” sessions, events, and on regular days in the children’s department during the daytime and afternoon. In addition, author 1 examined documents concerning the makerspace pilot and library legislation and policy changes. Policy documents cover the timespan from 1935 to 2019. Policies stemming from before 1935 are supplemented with literature on the history of Norwegian library work.

Ethical considerations

The Norwegian Social Science Data Services (NSD) has authorized the project, and data treatment aligns with the GDPR rules. We collected informed consent from the library staff, who were interviewed and observed regularly. As the site was a public space and more peripheral members of staff and visitors were coming and going, informed consent was only needed in some of those cases. Generally, the more public the space, the less the need for informed consent (Fangen, 2010). Nevertheless, some of the occasions included children and youth. In those cases, author 1 wore a button saying “researcher,” and information about the purpose of the study was provided in a letter available at the tables. These participants were not filmed and are not cited or recognizable in our analysis. Some of our findings are from video data on the Inventor Course. Parents of the children participating in the Inventor Course gave informed consent, as did the children, the teachers, and the staff at the library.

Methodology

The cultural-historical perspective guides our methodological strategy that understanding social practice means studying the collective change of practices (Jornet et al., 2019), and the concept of expansive learning has been central to the analysis. Expansive learning methodology is frequently used in intervention studies, but expansive development sometimes appears in activity systems without intervention (Engeström, 2015). During pre-studies in the field and extensive reading of the library journal “Bok & Bibliotek” (“Books & Libraries”), we found that library-making was one such case. Therefore, our approach has been to study change as it appears without our intervention.

Our theoretical stance considers contradictions to be the driver of expansive change. However, it is vital to understand that contradictions are not understood as competing interests on an interpersonal level but as contradictions between system components (Figure 1) (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). In this case, several new system components were introduced, such as new policies and legislation (rule), new material objects, such as 3D printers and the Little Bits (Instruments), as well as changing the organization of staff (Division of Labor). Figure 1 below shows a model of the primary contradiction of the library under study. The potentially new object is an unresolved contradiction and the space where the ZPD of activity systems can be located (Engeström, 2015).

To determine the systemic changes, one must look for their manifestations, and this process is explained below (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). Tensions and conflicts are manifestations of contradictions, and our analysis has focused on primary and secondary contradictions. We focused on how the dialectic between independence and subordination materialized in public library policy to identify the primary contradiction and need state of public library practice (Engeström, 2015). This part of the analysis was conducted using interviews, public policy documents, and documents concerning the implementation of the makerspace pilot. A policy document will always be polar and contain manifestations of contradictions, both as a textual product and as a document in practical use in project planning, talk, and material change (Prior, 2003). Our focus was, therefore, twofold. First, we focused on following central historical changes in public library practice and how policies and ideas were connected to objects. The historical material collected for the study was extensive. Therefore, we iteratively narrowed it down to what we understood as significant changes. For example, new architecture and new interior designs providing space for performing were significant changes in the late 70s.

Our second concern was the current legislation changes, the uptake of the makerspace pilot project, and how the library organization changed before and during the pilot project period. By focusing on independence and subordination in the analysis of documents and interviews, we could trace how the inherent power relations were manifest in the documents, suggesting the primary contradiction for this institution driving the current transformation of the library.

A secondary contradiction typically materializes in making sense of, reformulating, examining existing objects, or constructing new ones (Engeström & Sannino, 2011). We first approached the data by transcribing the interviews using a simplified version of Jeffersonian transcription notation. After transcription, the content was organized according to themes (Thagaard, 2009). The third step in the analysis was detecting significant situations where either library practice in general or makerspace practices had changed (e.g., changes in organizational structure). We used a schematic overview of the lifespan of making in the library to determine the sequential structure of changes over time, a technique inspired by Engeström (2015). The schema described sequences of central tensions and transitions connected to the makerspace. The sequential changes are organized in the findings sections as four waves of object formation: 1. The historical development of library work, 2. Access as a rule for solving problems, 3. Making becomes a part of the lending system, and 4. Towards a pedagogy supporting problem-finding.

Findings

Historical development of library work

In Norwegian library policy, independence and subordination (the primary contradiction) have been discussed in terms of access, inclusion/dissemination, quality, and co-production.

At the beginning of the Age of Enlightenment, building libraries was restricted to the private sphere, but in the late 18th century, the library movement gained momentum to provide access to public collections of books free of charge. This aim is interesting because providing access for all also represents a goal underlying the introduction of makerspaces in libraries. The following narrative about the emergence of making in this library shows how access to digital tools is understood in a similar way as in the Enlightenment era. When this library were institutionalized and handed over to the local government, giving access to literature of good quality was an instrument for educating all citizens, particularly the working class. The political parties agreed on the need for independent thinking citizens in a democratic country, and from now on, libraries were used as an instrument for a democratic project. The object and motive for this activity was to ensure participation in a democratic society.

The activity at the time reflected a need state becoming visible as a secondary contradiction around 1920 when working-class members were coming to the library, and this group’s lack of literacy became evident. The principle of extension work was introduced as a secondary instrument to meet this contradiction. Extension work was understood as visual modes of enlightenment and would include visual versions of fairy tales, films, comedy shows, shared radio listening, book talks, and drawing activities for children. This way, access to the collection was changed toward disseminating educational materials through a broader set of modalities. However, the rule of access through extension work made books both instrument and object of the activity. Working-class people still needed help to read and write.

Following the historical emergence of the Norwegian public library, we found that the primary contradiction and need state of this public library was to find strategies to ensure that citizens had the opportunity to benefit from the collection of books. In 1935, The Norwegian Government changed the organization of education and libraries. From then on, public libraries and schools were organized under the same umbrella, wherein the library was ruled by the access and enlightenment rationale, while the school system served the role of literacy education. This synergy between the institutions has continued, and public libraries has been a natural partner for teachers. The need for the library has continued in different forms. Our analysis of policy from the years 1935 to 1972 shows similar disseminating practices, such as educational films, book talks, and radio broadcasting. The policy after 1972 deviated from earlier policies in that the conception of culture changed. In the documents from 1974, mass media is considered to define content and decrease personal possibilities for creative processes. Building new libraries providing space for performing throughout the districts of Norway was used as an instrument to succeed the plans. Ten years after the expanded concept of culture was introduced, activities of this sort were few, and collaborating with professionals was suggested as an alternative.

In 1999, the organization of public libraries had been moved from the Ministry of Education to the Ministry of Culture, which included museums and the field of expressive arts. Libraries, museums, and the arts field had different rationales. Public libraries were expected to conserve and make the collection available through active dissemination, explicitly defining librarians as storytellers. In the same period, the collection of literature related to knowledge subjects was scaled down and handed over to the university libraries. The responsibility to conserve literature for the future was handed over to the National Library, leaving the more social aspects of library practice to the public libraries.

The following analysis of the site under study shows how the primary contradiction and need state to ensure that citizens can benefit from the collection becomes visible in later change efforts.The library was undergoing significant changes at the time we arrived, and the library was occupied with adapting to an updated version of the Norwegian public library legislation effectuated in 2013. The first paragraph was extended, with aims concerning the library as a social space and arena for public discussion, and is formulated as follows:

§ 1. Aims

The tasks of public libraries are information, education, and other cultural activities through active dissemination and by making books and other media available to everyone living in the country free of charge. The public libraries shall be independent meeting places and an arena for public discussion and debate. The individual library must emphasize quality, versatility, and timeliness in its offerings to children and adults. The contents and services of the libraries shall be made known. Public libraries are part of a national library system (Lov om Folkebibliotek, 2014 § 1)

The new law promises to change library practice. Moreover, a new library building was on its way, as part of this change. One important feature of this building was a generous space reserved for some kind of making. The makerspace project we examined was a pilot started within the old library building and meant to continue into the new library. Consequently, the makerspace pilot can be understood as a secondary artifact: a materializing of a conscious struggle to change their practice toward a more participative view of the library user. The re-construction was also visible in the efforts to design an interior in the old library to fit the new expectations for social spaces, by re-furnishing with comfortable sofas to sit and talk, desks arranged in groups in some of the reading rooms, desks with wheels to quickly change the function of space from solitary work to collaboration and Persian rugs defining a stage for discussions open for a public audience. Although changes were underway, staff still understood literature as the primary artifact and object of their activity.

The following excerpt from an interview shows how a member of the administration describes their object of activity as disseminators of fiction, then knowledge – first and foremost, in written form. The excerpt below demonstrates how the makerspace is talked about in terms of bridging the science collection, showing how the object of this activity still is the collection – a collection of books is now expanded to a collection of tools belonging to the science section in the library.

Administration

B: yes, you know, we convey, uh, we are knowledge communicators as well as literature communicators, so we are concerned with that, but perhaps primarily written knowledge, right?

I: yes

B: it’s also that bridge over to the slightly more practical eh that it should correspond a bit

I: yes

B: eh, and there is also one side of it that we eh eh there are not a lot of realists employed in Norwegian public libraries

I: yes

B: it is quite exceptional that we have a physicist employed here

I: yes

B: uh: I want to say

I: yes

B: so it’s very much against eh humanities and social sciences and so on if it’s to the extent that it’s a subject eh

I: mm

B: people and it’s probably (.) like that ((tongue click)) eh: a bit like that to cover up that science education too

I: mm

B: eh, it fits very well with this type of workshop (.) activities

As staff in this library strived to find a way to “activate” the science collection, it made sense to introduce a makerspace. The following sections of the analysis show how the makerspace activity was re-configurated in the library during the successive three waves of object formation and how the tendency to treat books and tools in the library as objects of their activity continues.

Access as the rule for solving problems

The makerspace project was a pilot supported by the National Library, which was funding innovative projects. The project received funding for a one-year project. In short, the focus of the project was introduced as “sharing of knowledge, creativity and new technology.” The goals for the makerspace project listed in the application were as follows:

The Makerspace shall be a physical meeting place and arena for knowledge sharing, which is open to anyone who wants to learn, create, repair and share. The workshop will focus on learning through play and exploration, with a particular focus on science. The workshop will be filled with user-generated activities and content, both through individuals and through other organizations/institutions. The workshop will focus on disseminating innovative technology to new user groups. The workshop will provide users with deeper insight into how the technology works and provide expertise to manage the technology.

At first, a project group of four librarians were responsible for running the makerspace, and as the group members were novices in making, they invested quite a lot of time in learning to use the tools. The tools provided were Straw Bees, MakeyMakey, Arduinos, Little Bits, Rasberry Pi, 3D printers and software, for example, the 3D design program TinkerCad. The room was open for visitors of all ages during the library’s opening hours. When talking about the activity, the staff emphasized the importance of including underrepresented groups in knowing how the technology worked. It was also underscored how they aspired to include visitors as co-creators of the space. Taking the division of labor between institutions into consideration, the idea of co-creating culture deviated from public library policy. However, it was nevertheless a general idea among staff and part of an international trend to think about visitors as co-creators. The co-creating part of the pilot was discussed in terms of co-creating the collection, for example, by consulting children in deciding what tools to buy and what activities to provide. The project description and the way pilot staff were talking about co-creation, shows that the object and motive for this activity was to disseminate innovating technology and include visitors in cultivating the space. Hence the technology initially meant to serve as an instrument for innovating was treated as the object itself. This problem continued to re-appear in later discussions around children’s making.

The makerspace was a popular place for children to hang around. In particular, the 3D printers were popular, although staff reported difficulties in facilitating access to and actual use of the printers. First, children’s and adults’ use of 3D printers was conflicting. Adult users expected access to the tools when they appeared at the workshop, often with a clear and concrete design in mind. The children stood in the way of realizing this expectation because they used the 3D printers very extensively, often printing ready-made designs they found online. Printing in 3D is time-consuming, and allowing the children to print without restrictions was impossible if adult users used the same machines. For that reason, children’s opportunities for making were moved to the children’s department. The following excerpt shows how respondent 2 in the project group explain the situation:

Pilot staff 2

R: one day then involve uh: turning on the 3D printer for kids

I: mm (hhh)

R: the kids came and they uh: then downloaded something () most often a mobile cover ↑ (hhh) which they started on the printer then

I: yes (1) it was popular

R: and then we didn’t have a booking system, so what happened was that the two 3d printers were occupied by children when the adult users came the printers were usually not available.

The tension referred to concerns about access. However, we noticed another implicit reason for the transition concerning how children used the 3D printers. It was possible to copy pre-made drawings downloaded from the internet, which was one reason for the extensive use, as it allows for extensive printing without preparing the drawings. The excerpt below shows how the practice of printing pre-made things from a digital library is not valued as making.

Pilot staff 1

A: we want to reduce digital divides, so we also have to work on meeting those who are in some way at risk of perhaps falling a little outside ↑ then

I: mm

A: or you know, lagging a little behind in (1) competence around technology and understanding of technology

I: yes

A: ehm so tha:t is one thing ↓ what it eh it was a challenge that we faced

I: yes

A: like how do we get those kids to stop printing mobile covers and start making (1) mobile covers for example

In this quote, a rhetorical question asking how to stop children’s copying practice indicates a secondary contradiction: Staff was at this point starting to be aware of a problem concerning how to learn finding purpose and meaning of using technology, but they were not able to see how their treatment of technology as the object of their activity is contradictory. The rule of giving access to and disseminating the function of tools was insufficient for including children in making. Adult users planned their projects outside the library and needed the tools to realize their projects, or they attended specific courses. The children did not seem to be self-driven in the same way, as they were hanging around without a precise aim or purpose. The excerpt above shows how staff experience a pressing need to solve this problem, as the copying practices deviated from ideas about digital competence and their aim to include underrepresented groups. Moreover, digital competence is implicitly defined as mastering the design programs. Again, the primary contradiction becomes visible as a contradiction between the tools provided (rule of access) and the expectations for the visitor to be self-driven (the subjects) in their use of the tools. The next section presents how staff found a preliminary solution during further re-configuration of the makerspace.

Making becomes a part of the lending system

The contradiction explained above did not find a solution in the elaborations of the makerspace. The problem solved was related to adult users’ expectations for accessing the maker tools. After one and a half years of piloting, the makerspace was handed over to the library organization, and during this transition, a booking system regulating access to tools and technical support was put in place. From then on, children were given a small-scale makerspace in the children’s department. Moreover, the library was reorganized to fit the interior plans for the new library, and the new organization included a department director governing four sections with leaders at the top-level, subject managers at the mid-level, and a performing level on the floor. The four sections were termed audience, dissemination programming, ICT/logistics, and collection. For a period, the makerspace had no staff on a regular basis, as the idea behind the audience section was to have staff alternating between departments with visitor contact as their primary responsibility. Audience-staff in the “youth and popular culture” area provided help in the makerspace and were trained in maintaining the tools, turning on the machines, simple operations, and troubleshooting. Contact between staff and users was organized through the booking system, and it was possible to book technical help for operating tools twice a week.

After these reconfigurations of the makerspace, the rationale for running the main makerspace was changed. The new aim was to introduce newcomers to makerspaces through do-it-yourself courses run by external maker educators and hopefully inspire continuing making elsewhere at more informal makerspaces in the city. On regular days, the makerspace was a quiet place where visitors dropped by to use the tools during a booked time slot. The reconfigurations in this second wave of object formation made the makerspace even more library-like, focusing on access to the tools through the booking system. The role of the librarians was like their daily work of facilitating the literature search and, making the collection of maker tools available. Because the contradiction concerning children’s making was solved by removing the children, the problem remained in the transition to the children’s department. The following section shows how this contradiction was managed in the children’s department by designing and running what they called the “Inventor Course.”

Towards a pedagogy supporting problem-finding

After the re-organization, the children’s department staff were engaged in the “audience” section. This new division of labor was changing the constellation of staff engaging in children’s making and what making becomes. Staff in the audience section were expected to have expertise or interest in communication with visitors, and the group had a diverse combination of knowledge in librarianship, teaching, fiction writing, art history, and storytelling. A central task for this group, other than the daily routine of facilitating literature searches, was a school – library collaboration called Book-Talk, aiming to include school children aged 9–10 years in the practical use of the library and inspire future reading. When discussing the Book-Talk, staff showed an explicit interest in dialogue with children’s imagination. One respondent explains how the fun of being in dialogue with children’s imagination is an essential motive for her work:

Staff in the children’s department

B: so (.) easy to take on

I: yes (.) what do you mean when you say take on

B: to take me on an adventure imagine uh things if I tell about a book I say for example yes now suddenly think of a planet on a deserted island and then a parrot comes flying in and yes yes see parrot yes yes yes look and suddenly they start telling about aunts and uncles who have parrots at home and stuff like that

I: (hhh)

B: and they’re so cute and you know think about what I’m saying

The children’s makerspace was funded by a private benefactor to establish good spaces for children’s co-creation. A defined area in the children’s department included a big table, a kitchen sink with drawers to keep arts and crafts materials, two 3D printers, 25 laptops, and enough Little Bits for a school class if they shared in groups. The 3D printers were popular, and some of the children used the printer regularly. Staff were trained in simple 3D design using Tinkercad, and most of the librarians could operate the printer. Courses in designing with Tinkercad were arranged intermittently, primarily as a technical introduction to the program’s affordances. Children were allowed to create a keyring with their name on it. The challenge with the pre-made 3D drawings was frequently discussed in the children’s department, focusing on to what degree, or if the children should be allowed to copy.

The discussion shows how the introduction of the 3D printer brings new questions about norms of behavior and what it means to make something, and their discussions appear as a constant struggle, indicating a systemic contradiction. Making things was not entirely new for the group, as they had already arranged reading sessions for children in combination with arts and crafts activities where the children represented the story’s content. Nevertheless, expectations for children to find self-defined projects were bringing the same contradiction as earlier. Although still treating the 3D printer as the object in itself, they started to be aware that the printer was a tool for making meaningful things. A course called the “Inventor Course” was becoming essential for further reconfiguration of ways to support children’s 3D printing.

The Inventor Course was emerging over time rather than being planned and implemented. The person who first initiated the Inventor Course was a former head of the science department engaged in the makerspace pilot. The Inventor Course had its beginnings in connection with an annual festival called the Girl Tec Festival. This was a one-day festival targeting schoolgirls only, and the aim was to introduce making to girls and lower the barrier for girls to aspire for a future career in tech. The festival was arranged in collaboration with ODA, TENK, IKT Norway and the National Centre for STEM Recruitment. ODA and TENK are networks of women sharing the vision to empower women in technology. IKT Norway is an independent organization aiming to strengthen the conditions for tech industries. The National Centre for STEM Recruitment works to increase recruitment to higher STEM education to ensure a competitive, sustainable, and equal society.

When the first Girl Tec was announced in 2015, the library did not have the technology for this age group to contribute to the festival and was, therefore borrowing both Little Bits and course designs from a science museum. Little Bits is a tec toy affording components for making electrical circuits and is suitable for novices in making. The components can easily be clicked together, so it is possible to make simple electrical objects through trial and error. The first edition of the course was a do-it-yourself introduction to making a coffee cooler using a Little Bits fan and a paper cup, and the children had to share Little Bits boxes because there were not enough kits for everyone. The course was easy to manage, and the Little Bits was, therefore, one of the later investments. The Inventor Course was handed over to staff on the floor in the children’s department and was promoted for school classes to join as a school trip. However, staff in the children’s department elaborated the course to include problem-finding and collaborative creative solutions.

At this point, the course was extended to two hours to make it more suitable for a school visit, thereby re-constructing making for children to be more school-like, with a librarian standing in front of the class, teaching the children how to use the Little Bits. The practical task was also unintentionally becoming collaborative as the library was short of Little Bits and the children had to share. Moreover, the shared interest in children’s imagination showed in their efforts to change the course from a procedural introduction to making a fixed product toward a problem-finding and problem-solving task: make your invention in groups; the invention should solve a problem, have a name, and be presented in class.

The pedagogical preparation of the children for the task was informing them by reading a definition of invention written in the encyclopedia and telling narratives about inventors. Usually, the librarian in charge of the course prepared one more extended narrative about a Norwegian invention, such as the story about the brewer who was tired of providing bottles and finally invented the principle of bottle return. The librarian was also engaging children in a dialogue about inventions and what kind of problems the inventions suggested by the children were solving. The course was also an instructional demonstration of affordances in the Little Bits – for example, how to make an electrical circuit using wheels and an electrical engine.

It was clear that changing the social constellation had consequences for the design of the Inventor Course. Staff in the children’s department had an explicit interest in children’s imagination and storytelling and changed the Inventor Course in the direction of innovation. They also included storytelling and repeated a narrative structure in the given task. It was clear that the inventor task had a narrative structure like a straightforward drama, where someone met an obstacle, and the barrier was handled by introducing a third party – the invention. By this change, they were coming closer to change the rules for their practice, which was less contradictory to the change efforts in this system. The focus was directed more to the novices – the people (subjects) who needs support, and the narrative structure seemed to support children in placing seemingly silly inventions in a more meaningful narrative (for an analysis of interaction in the Inventor Course, see: Skåland et al., 2020 and Skåland, 2022).

Despite these reconfigurations, how to operate the Little Bits received a great deal of focus in the course. Although the library staff copied a teacher-like way of acting in the course, they refused to be called teachers. Teaching was even described as a “shame” and something outside their regular activity but necessary for creative work. Moreover, one respondent made it clear that teaching literacy had always been the school’s responsibility, and using this literacy was the librarian’s domain. Now, they had to teach digital literacy because this kind of literacy was not a skill the children were learning at school. It was clear that primary contradictions in the system were becoming visible in their struggle with teaching and how they overlooked their contribution in problem finding and the narrative approach to inventing as a possible pedagogy. Teaching making was still understood as teaching the tools.Moreover, the school’s collabo-ration was decisive for the time available for the children to do the task, as they conformed to the regular time slots for a class at school.

The group working on the Inventor Course continued to focus on teaching the tools as if the instrument was the object in itself rather than using them in problem-finding and solving. That means that although the group turned making for children toward innovation/co-creation, the contradiction was not unpacked and made visible, thus hindering them from constructing the tertiary artifact needed to solve the contradiction. The ZPD of this system rests in this unresolved contradiction, as the need to find ways to support visitors in finding ways to use the tools. As this need is part of a greater systemic change toward democratic participation, meaningful ways may include participating in democratic debate and change through material means. Staff in the children’s department suggested through their actions that problem-finding and the narrative approach to inventing may be a possible pedagogy in harmony with the new object.

Discussion

This analysis aimed to determine the zone of proximal development (ZPD) for the makerspace in this library that may inform further studies of library making. The following research questions were stated:

1. How do the historically developed practices of libraries become relevant in how making is realized in a library context?

2. What tensions occur during implementation, and what are the contradictions manifested in these tensions?

3. What constitutes the potential future developments of public library makerspaces?

We followed the historical emergence of the primary contradiction and need state grounding changes within this institution and then traced three periods of object formation concerning children’s making. We found that the need state for Norwegian public libraries was to find strategies to ensure that citizens could benefit from the collection as means for democratic participation. Underlying this problem is the access policy that expects visitors to posit the literacy needed. Our finding aligns with research in the field that problematizes access to tools as a ground for making in libraries (Lakind et al., 2019; Nicholson, 2019). The secondary contradictions appearing during the initial implementation of the makerspace pilot reflect this need state in two ways. First, as an attempt to include children in project planning by consulting children’s needs when planning the collection of tools and courses to provide in the makerspace. This way of thinking reflects an approach to user needs that connects to building collections of books. As V. Miettinen (2018) argues, this approach may not engage visitors in co-producing the future. Therefore, a collection-oriented approach to participation may reproduce the contradiction instead of solving it.

Moreover, the project group was inspired by the maker movement at the preliminary planning stage, focusing on typical “makerspace tools” in public library makerspaces (Nicholson, 2019). The second secondary contradiction appearing in the pilot period showed itself as a constant struggle with the downloading practice among children. It was clear that the children did not have an explicit aim or purpose in their making, despite having access to both the tools and the technical knowledge. This finding supports the suggestion that “a room with equipment” framing of making fails to include new user groups (Lakind et al., 2019).

That is, the old problem of providing access to a population incapable of using the opportunity was reproduced, also underscoring how important the historical and political ground in institutions is for what making becomes. We also found that the solution to the problem in the first wave of object formation was access-oriented, in that children’s making was transferred to the children’s department to ensure access for adults. This finding confirms recent studies showing that librarians in the Nordic countries still legitimize their work in giving access (Johnston et al., 2021). Moreover, the makerspace for adults changed the division of labor to include external partners in line with the recent trend in public libraries to give access to people (Nicholson, 2019; Williams & Willett, 2019), as well as including tool-lending in the booking system. This amplified, making turns more library-like for adult visitors by providing predictable access to the tools.

The third reconfiguration of children’s making shows that changing the staff’s social constellation and organization was a critical turn toward civic engagement and creativity in maker activities and a more structured and school-like learning environment. The diverse make-up in the audience-group positing creative backgrounds and interests started a discussion about what it means to make something. This struggle continued in their reconfiguration of the Inventor Course as a clear expectation for the children to find real-world problems to solve. This new focus turned children’s making toward collaboration and civic engagement, but not as participants in executing services, as Hapel (2020) suggests. The course had a tool-focused and school-like structure, and the problems were not real in that the goal of the course was to present the invention for the class and not expected to have any impact in the real world. Hence, the tools were becoming objects in themselves and not means for change-making.

Moreover, the children were expected to bring their creativity and explore real-world problems without any facilitation in approaching such a task. The writings of Lakind et al. (2019) are interesting in that regard, as they underscore that design is not so much about the tools but knowing how to use them meaningfully. However, we argue that the saying “people, not stuff,” introduced by Lakind et al. (2019) does not cover this problem. The “social” aspect in this saying is still access-oriented, although to people, and leaves the pedagogy of creative work unexplicit. Our findings suggest that the ZPD for children’s making, in this library, rests in the space between expectations for citizens to use digital tools in solving real-world problems and the tendency to treat the tools as an object in itself. A different pedagogy focusing on the functional use of the tools is needed, as well as an approach in harmony with public library values of inclusion, citizenship, and change through making.

Lakind et al. (2019) suggests that children participating in Public Library makerspaces should be valued as “small designers of the world.” We argue that this understanding resonates with an ideal of children as historical actors (Gutiérrez et al., 2019) underscoring how change in our material environment can be considered political. The ZPD we have identified in our case points in the same direction but also suggests elaborating on how this ideal might look like in practical pedagogical action in the library. During the fourth wave of object formation in our case, the staff in the children’s department suggested a child-centered pedagogy supporting children in finding real-world problems but their teaching did not support problem finding. Our findings resonate with Vossoughi et al. (2021), who discusses the widespread tendency for teachers to step back in child-centered pedagogy, particularly in settings inspired by a constructionist perspective on learning in makerspaces. A binary separation of top-down instruction versus bottom-up constructionism seems to conceal pedagogy supporting generative forms of learning and relationality. However, Vossoughi et al. (2021) demonstrates that it is possible to bridge this binary.

One important aspect of learning by constructing is the freedom to follow your interests, explore, and solve problems in creative ways (Papert, 1993; Blikstein, 2013). Instead of stepping back to allow for freedom and creativity, educators in library-making might find pedagogy supporting generative learning meaningful. Examples from this line of research on making suggests teachers model a symmetrical relationship between children and educators by allowing children to act as experts (DiGiacomo & Gutiérrez, 2016) and modeling how to explore new material by sharing sensory exploration, surprise, and excitement with the children (Vossoughi et al., 2021).

In line with a CHAT perspective on change, a bottom-up process with staff in the library and further analysis of the actual interaction in makerspace activities are needed for further pedagogical innovation. We analyzed interaction in the Inventor Course as part of this project (Skåland, 2022; Skåland et al., 2020), and finding problems through storytelling and communicating by making in creative collaboration have turned up as opportunities to explore (Skåland et al., 2020). However, further interventions are still left to be done in future projects. Although problem finding is an emerging field of creativity research (Abdulla & Cramond, 2018), it is still a topic left to be explored in research on makerspace learning. Therefore, we suggest researchers in maker education explore problem-finding further.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).