American Association of University Presses (AAUP) President Alex Holzman recently sent an email message to his colleagues concerning seasonal catalogs where he states he is “utterly befuddled” by why his fellow university presses bother to print them. The color ink used in the catalogs is pretty, Holzman says, but is a complete waste of money, and he castigates the university presses for being behind the times by still issuing catalogs on paper. “Do folks genuinely find that more beautiful catalogues lead to better sales? To better acquisitions? To better university relations? Can you quantify that somehow?” The economic rationale of Holzman’s argument seems to hinge on the fact that university administrations would applaud the cost savings of eliminating catalogs, therefore slashing marketing budgets, and there would be very little collateral damage because independent bookstores are going the way of the Dodo, and the reps who call on these bookstores are just as behind the times as the marketing departments at the university presses whom they represent for continuing the use of paper catalogs as essential sales tools.
I am one of the sales reps for Temple University Press where Holzman is currently the director. I have no recollection of howling in protest over his suggestion, as he stated was the case with his reps, but I have to say that with all due respect that paper catalogs reflect the essential character of a university press, and I have yet to see a better alternative for selling books than the use of a catalog, color or not. Furthermore, the catalog transcends the mundane process of selling books to retailers, librarians, wholesalers, and teachers: it serves multiple purposes such as list development, publicity, and public relations. A catalog enhances the personal expression of the authors whose books are listed there. A catalog expresses the worldview and outlook of the publisher, be it programmatic or a special series of books that the publisher is developing. It’s there for the world to see in a cohesive, integrated format that has stood the test of time.
A publisher can lose creative control over the development process when you take catalogs out of the mix. One could argue that the dissemination of information is now relegated to the Internet, ceded to Google, to Microsoft, to Intel, to Amazon.com, and to the electric utilities powering computers, polluting the air with coal-burning power plants. There is a political element to this that should not be ignored. How are various books represented in culture? Who controls the process of how books are distributed, digested, and reviewed in the greater quotidian? The cost to the publisher should not be measured here in money saved or set-aside, but in something greater, something more important, and something akin to saving their souls.
My guess is that the bound book itself will be next on the digital hit list, and university presses will be harshly criticized down the road for not saving money by going exclusively digital with their offerings. With Pandora’s box thrown open, ultimately we need to ask: what is the role of a university press in the world today?