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Introduction Relativism of all shades and kinds is in fashion. For some decades, it has been trying to enter the very bastion of the academic heartland by questioning the prevailing cognitive realism in the philosophy of science (Kuhn, Feyerabend). More recently a somewhat different and stronger version of relativism has made some extraordinary advances in literary criticism (the movement of “deconstruction”) and spawned some controversy in the field of law (critical legal studies). The same tendencies have now emerged in architecture (Jencks). More alarmingly, perhaps, in the social sciences we observe a brand new interest in so‐ called “post‐modern” perspectives: post‐modern ethnography in anthropology (Tylor), new voices in sociology (Lash and Urri), and, of course, also the novel ideas representing economics as discourse with a distinctly post‐modern flavor (Amariglio; Rossetti; Milberg; Ruccio).

The cardinal point to note here is that the development (and unfortunately the likely potential) of area policy is intimately related to the actual character of British social policy. Whilst area policy has been strongly influenced by Pigou's welfare economics, by the rise of scientific management in the delivery of social services (cf Jaques 1976; Whittington and Bellamy 1979), by the accompanying development of operational analyses and by the creation of social economics (see Pigou 1938; Sandford 1977), social policy continues to be enmeshed with the flavours of Benthamite utilitatianism and Social Darwinism (see, above all, the Beveridge Report 1942; Booth 1889; Rowntree 1922, 1946; Webb 1926). Consequently, for their entire history area policies have been coloured by the principles of a national minimum for the many and giving poorer areas a hand up, rather than a hand out. The preceived need to save money (C.S.E. State Apparatus and Expenditure Group 1979; Klein 1974) and the (supposed) ennobling effects of self help have been the twin marching orders for area policy for decades. Private industry is inadvertently called upon to plug the resulting gaps in public provision. The conjunction of a reluctant state and a meandering private sector has fashioned the decaying urban areas of today. Whilst a large degree of party politics and commitment has characterised the general debate over the removal of poverty (Holman 1973; MacGregor 1981), this has for the most part bypassed the ‘marginal’ poorer areas (cf Green forthcoming). Their inhabitants are not usually numerically significant enough to sway general, party policies (cf Boulding 1967) and the problems of most notably the inner cities has been underplayed.

Resurgent interest in the life and work of the Italian Cambridge economist Piero Sraffa is leading to New Directions in Sraffa Scholarship. This chapter introduces readers to some of these developments. First and perhaps foremost is the fact that as of September 2016 Sraffa’s archival material has been uploaded onto the website of the Wren Library, Trinity College, Cambridge University, as digital colour images; this chapter introduces readers to the history of these events. This history provides sharp relief on the extant debates over the role of the archival material in leading to the final publication of Production of Commodities by Means of Commodities, and readers are provided a brief sketch of these matters. The varied nature of Sraffa scholarship is demonstrated by the different aspects of Sraffa’s intellectual legacy which are developed and discussed in the various entries of our Symposium. The conclusion is reached that we are on the cusp of an exciting phase change of tremendous potential in Sraffa scholarship.

The essay builds a timeline of the friendship and intellectual intercourse between Sraffa and Wittgenstein with data from both their Cambridge Pocket Diaries (CPDs) and their correspondence and biography. The timeline distinguishes five phases: their first meetings until June 1930, the time in which their weekly conversations run uninterrupted (October 1930–June 1933); the period in which the enchantment of their previous meetings was broken (October 1933–July 1936); the following decade in which their meetings were in some years intense, in others nearly inexistent, until Sraffa decided to put an end to their conversations; and finally the years preceding Wittgenstein’s death. The meetings between Sraffa and Wittgenstein from their CPDs are listed in the Appendix.

MANY and sundry are the worries which fall to the lot of the librarian, and the matter of book‐repair is not the least among them. The very limited book‐fund at the disposal of most public library authorities makes it imperative on the part of the librarian to keep the books in his charge in circulation as long as possible, and to do this at a comparatively small cost, in spite of poor paper, poor binding, careless repairing, and unqualified assistants. This presents a problem which to some extent can be solved by the establishment of a small bindery or repairing department, under the control of an assistant who understands the technique of bookbinding.

It is not proposed here to treat the sheaf catalogue from a controversial point of view, and to enter into a detailed examination of the respective advantages and disadvantages of this as compared with other forms of catalogues. Many are alive to the merits of the sheaf catalogue, either as the only means of displaying and indexing the contents of a library, or as an addition to some already existing means, and it is for the use of these that the following practical notes on the making of a sheaf catalogue are submitted.

It is unlikely that many public meetings of library workers will be held during the coming winter. In London, at any rate, the preoccupations of the time have increased in intensity rather than otherwise; the darkness of the streets is more or less opaque; the train difficulties are very real; and those who might receive librarians at their libraries are loth to keep their buildings open to later hours than are absolutely necessary. The Library Association shows no disposition to hold meetings and the President, whose hospitality made some pleasant gatherings possible last year, finds it impossible to extend that hospitality this winter. The suggestion that an occasional afternoon meeting might be held does not seem to have been made, but we hope it will be considered. At such a time as this we cannot afford to lose any opportunity for an exchange of ideas upon our work.

The most obvious symptom of the most obvious trend in the building of new libraries is the fact that, as yet, no spade has entered the ground of the site on Euston Road, London, upon which the new building for the British Library Reference Division has to be erected. Some twenty years of continued negotiation and discussion finally resulted in the choice of this site. The UK and much more of the world awaits with anticipation what could and should be the major building library of the twentieth century. The planning and design of a library building, however large or small, is, relatively speaking, a major operation, and deserves time, care and patience if the best results are to be produced.

THE recent Home Office Return showing the names of all places in the British Isles in which the Public Libraries Acts have been adopted, and supplying the statistical information regarding issues, income and expenditure, etc., is an interesting testimony to the extent to which the Public Library has entered into the life of the community. The summary of the statistics (which are for the year ending 31st March, 1911) gives the following results. The population of the places in which the Acts have been adopted is 26,370,582; the total number of volumes in the libraries is 10,995,115 (of which 3,366,549 are in reference libraries); the total issue is 54,690,222; and the total expenditure is £814,932. These figures vary considerably from other recent surveys, but this is caused by the method of compilation of the Return. Duly recorded reference issues are included, for example, and no allowance is made for the millions of unrecorded references. According to this Return there are six library systems in the British Islands issuing over one million volumes per annum. These systems are as follows:—

While some libraries have done their best over the years to inform the public as to what they are doing and can do as regards helping readers, others seem to move along without making any special effort to publicise their facilities. In the old days modesty was a virtue, but now it is its own reward. Government departments, which used to shun the limelight, now employ public relations officers in large numbers, and professional bodies and big business houses constantly seek publicity. Times have changed, and the battle is to the strong; and it is unfortunately generally felt that the institution or service that does not speak for itself has little to speak about. It may frankly be said that if a service is in a position to enlarge its sphere of influence and esteem it should do so to the utmost of its endeavour. But it will be granted that if its publicity is not justified by performance, there will likely be an unhappy reaction.