From my first days on the job as an academic librarian a dozen years ago, I've heard the word "collegial" expressed routinely, and in tones of high respect. If you're known as collegial, you've generally got it made. It's an important word in academia, especially for those on the tenure track. This is why the word often makes an appearance in term review and promotion meetings, when someone invariably praises a worthy candidate by invoking it, explicitly, by name.

What does it mean to be collegial in academic libraries? From what I've observed, the term has a number of components. A collegial librarian is helpful, willing to pitch in, and cooperative. Such a person is skilled at collaboration and is a reliable member of the team. If you're looking for a volunteer, a collegial librarian will step forward.

These are all wonderful traits. But from what I've seen, there is one component that overshadows all others: agreeableness. Collegiality has become nearly synonymous with this trait. A collegial person goes with the flow, supports prevailing sentiments, and doesn't make waves. Such a person may advocate for an idea, but doesn't push the point if others become too uncomfortable or resist. A collegial librarian preserves the comfort level of colleagues.

This is both deadly and dangerous for our profession.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate a pleasant atmosphere at work as much as anyone else. I know we don't always achieve it - far from it - but the ideal of agreeableness is reinforced in our profession in so many ways. After all, we're a community-spirited profession. This is one of our strengths, and I appreciate it.

But there is a downside. I've seen the concept of collegiality used as a tool to fend off unsettling ideas. It is used to shelter those who are resistant to change, often by administrators who want to protect their staff - and sometimes themselves - from the discomfort of disruption. It represents the practice of librarianship based on personality, rather than talent, knowledge or skills.

Let's face it: there is no great change without either discomfort or disruption.

A subset of collegiality is the effort, in our library culture, to aim for an almost impossible level of consensus before making certain types of change. But sometimes, despite our best efforts, we can't get consensus on important issues. This is especially the case if our culture sends signals that a commitment to change is optional.

Simply put, we should not use the concept of collegiality to protect those who balk at leaving their comfort zones, no matter how high in the hierarchy, how tenured, how well-liked. We need to jettison the squeamishness of the collegial. I have no doubt that we can move our colleagues forward in positive ways. This is called leadership, and we have good role models out there to draw on for inspiration.

Maybe we need a different defintion of collegiality. If the essence of collegiality is the value of agreeableness, let's turn this definition on its head. Rather than preserving comfort levels, it would do the opposite. In its new definition, collegiality would cooperate with - and actively support - innovation and change. Collegiality would value our advocacy for shaping library services to satisfy users' rapidly changing expectations and needs. The most collegial among us would be the ones who looked to the good of the profession by shaking us up with their ideas.

I'm not so sure that the inherent conservatism of academic libraries is one of our biggest problems. I think it's our collegiality.