Interview with the Author:
Dr. Kate McDowell on Storytelling for Libraries

Dr. Kate McDowell is the author of Critical Data Storytelling for Libraries: Crafting Ethical Narratives for Advocacy and Impact. Sharing the value of what we do in the library through data-driven stories is an important skill for library professionals, yet one that is often overlooked. It’s a component of library marketing that we must embrace to ensure our library services remain both visible and indispensable.  

I recently spoke with Dr. McDowell about ethical storytelling, the concept of “retellability,” and why the ability to connect data and narrative is essential for today’s librarians. I’m pleased to share our conversation below. 

Please introduce yourself to our readers.

I am a professor at the School of Information Sciences at the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign who connects areas of information work—storytelling, misinformation, and justifying public institutions—that are deeply rooted in this history of library and information science but usually siloed from one another. My work began in the 130+ year tradition of library storytelling for children and families, where the premise of storytelling is not rote reading or recitation but instead creative and aesthetically vibrant reinterpretation of printed tales.  

My research published in JASIST in 2021, “Storytelling Wisdom,” evolved to generate a fundamental theory of story as information, which asserts that defining narrative requires more than structure. It requires an understanding of the lived experience of narrative, such as the aesthetically vibrant and intellectually gripping aspects of narrative that make the experience of hearing a story so memorable. 

With my knowledge of library history, I imagined that misinformation about libraries could grow after watching the 2016 US presidential election and the ensuing erosion of trust in public institutions. In 2021, I was invited to be on a Pan American Health Organization team (part of the World Health Organization) structuring an approach to countering viral misinformation in real time, because the team needed true stories to be just as appealing and shareable as fake ones.  

My current work supports libraries at every scale, from the smallest special or rural library to the largest academic system. From 2021 to the present, I have led the development of the IMLS-funded Data Storytelling Toolkit for Libraries and, most recently, I expanded on data storytelling for libraries, writing the book Critical Data Storytelling for Libraries, which was published in August 2025.  

Briefly summarize Critical Data Storytelling for Libraries: Crafting Ethical Narratives for Advocacy and Impact.

This book connects concepts of data collection and use with concepts of storytelling and reuse, illuminating fresh pathways to move from everyday library data to appealing and repeatable library stories. It also connects with the critical traditions of both the Frankfurt School from Europe and Critical Race Theory founded by Kimberlé Crenshaw. Library workers at every level need to understand the danger of amplifying biases in data, even in seemingly simple demographic data about relative wealth and poverty, because the stories libraries tell about their communities reflect them.

Accordingly, mitigating or amplifying biases will engage or alienate audiences. If we truly want to be more inclusive, we need to understand how the complex interrelationships between teller, audience, and story affect how we should craft stories and whether our stories are heard. 

Throughout the book, I tell stories. For example, I started my career working in youth services library roles in the mid-1990s, including as a public library children’s librarian during a building renovation project. The basement location of the children’s department had a major limitation: low, concrete ceilings from the 1970s. It seemed impossible to create a light and airy space. One colleague spoke up at a design meeting, saying “why don’t we dig the foundation down deeper?” The architects changed the plans, and that space is light, airy, and welcoming today. 

These times call for fresh approaches, and the answers may not always exist in the space or data we take for granted. We need flexible visions of our institutions to avoid reinforcing perceptions of fixed limitations. We must dig deeper into our own data, envisioning creative approaches to prioritize storytelling over storage. Data we collect is not like our other collections; data is to be used as some of our best evidence for institutional justification, continuity, and truly relevant ways forward.  

Why did you decide to write this book?

I wrote this book because I have spent my career breaking down silos, and library workers who collect data are typically siloed from those who tell stories. This book speaks to both audiences—data experts and story experts—to tackle common obstacles thoughtfully, with awareness of power and who has been historically excluded.  

The insights in this book are based on my 30 years of library work as well as my workshops and consulting, through which I frequently work with struggling librarians to tell help them tell better data stories. This book brings together current, critical insights for using data ethically for library advocacy, social justice, and inclusivity. 

What are two key ideas you hope all readers take away?

The two key ideas relate to what happens in those specific rooms where decisions about the power and funding of libraries are made: legislatures, board rooms, administrative committees, etc. They are 1) “retellability” and 2) debate strategy.  

First, data stories need to be well crafted, effectively told, and perhaps most importantly, made to be retold. Other people who are not library workers need clear, concise, and coherent stories of what libraries do that they can retell when library advocates are not in the room. Advocates should test the retelling of data stories with allies in this way: 1) craft a data story, 2) rehearse it with a friendly audience, and 3) rather than asking for immediate feedback, ask this: “Please tell back to me what you just heard.” This practice leverages the way that story operates as information. Editing based on the audience’s perceptions will help the teller to refine the message of the data story and increase their “retellability.” 

Second, public conversations require strategy. While libraries have previously been at the top of lists of publicly trusted institutions, mistrust is rampant today, and so discussion in public governance forums requires new strategic thinking. When some members of a governing board seek to defund the library—and this has happened with many library boards, school boards, even boards of education at state levels—a business-as-usual debate-oriented conversation may leave libraries vulnerable to misinforming or deliberately disinforming audience members’ agendas. When library attackers seek to bait library advocates into a specific debate to “win,” usually by blaming or shaming librarians, library advocates must avoid debate and stay on message. This requires reconnecting with professional ethics.  

The fifth chapter of the book is devoted to translating strategies from the infodemic that accompanied the Covid-19 pandemic (and persist with the endemic) for current crises in library trust and governance, with step-by-step guidance. Library misinformation is not new; there have always been leaders who have sought to cut costs and diminish libraries in unethical ways—and I share stories about such leaders in the book as well. Being prepared with a strategy for approaching governance conversations realistically is key to libraries lasting. 

How do you see AI affecting storytelling with data? How do ethical considerations influence the use of AI for storytelling with data?

I have serious concerns about the training, ethics, and output of AI, but at the same time, I believe we should always be leveraging the latest and most powerful tools for library advocacy and for the defense of public institutions. Because of the training data for most large language models (LLMs), free AI platforms currently generate library stories fraught with typical stereotypes, biases, and misunderstandings. While this may change, AI platforms aren’t as useful yet as a distillation of our own knowledge and expertise.   

The book is partly based on the Data Storytelling Toolkit for Libraries, which is designed to center humans with deep library experience. For example, the toolkit builds on the “folklore” of library justification for the choose-your-own-adventure Motivations and Goals module, helping librarians to identify classic ways of telling library justification stories based on our research. At a time when so many are exploring AI for generating narratives without understanding the models that go into constructing them, the toolkit and the book push us to construct our own narratives centered in our own expertise.  

Both projects could be seen as part of a larger and more radical project that re-centers human narration and real people as storytellers. At the same time, if the models improve, we should consider how to use them alongside library expertise. Those who stewarded libraries before us used everything in their power to sustain these institutions, and we have an obligation to steward those resources for generations to come. 

However, the topic of AI also raises issues of agency around data and storytelling. Data without story can lead to serious misunderstandings. For example, when librarians assemble data to support expansion only to discover that leaders see that data as a reason to make cuts, data does not drive. It does not decide. It does not tell stories. We do those things using data. There are always humans deciding, and humans make sense of things and remember things best through meaningful and memorable stories. 

Recommended reading:

• The Unique Value of Special Librarians in the Age of AI
• Understanding Shadow AI: Risks, Costs, and Governance 

Is there anything else you would like to share?

I want libraries to survive for future generations. There is a cascade effect from today’s culture wars that impacts trust in institutions like libraries. Rising pro-censorship movements and shrinking budgets for truly public spaces—where you can walk in the door without having to believe or buy anything—are undermining library funding.  

This year, federal data sources on libraries are diminishing or in the process of disappearing altogether, as with the recent removal of academic libraries from IPEDS. In many places, libraries must connect locally more deeply than ever to secure funding by constantly rebuilding trust with communities.

Inspiring people to tell stories about library impact is key, especially when so many detractors are reacting to misinformation about libraries. Data storytelling, with a focus on retelling and strategic thinking, offers hope for sustaining libraries for future generations.