Indexers hold great power, more than I think we often realize. Since the index we write will serve as a major entry point into the text for readers, we have a lot of influence over what readers find and how.

I first came to this realization a few years ago through my work indexing books on Indigenous topics. In Canada, where I live, these topics can be quite emotionally and politically charged, since as a nation we are still coming to terms with the legacy of colonialism. When working on such material, I am conscious that these are not my stories to tell. I do not fully understand these issues from the point of view of the Indigenous communities and individuals. Yet as the indexer, I have to somehow decide how best to present the information. 

One common claim by indexers is that the index needs to reflect the text, which is another way to say that the index needs to be objective. I agree that the index should be as objective as possible. Yet indexers also acknowledge that no two indexers will ever create the same index. The index is a subjective document, filtered through the indexer’s understanding of the text and preferred indexing practices. To be an ethical indexer, I think we need to consider and be aware of the different ways in which we can shape the index, particularly in how we can reveal or conceal information.

So, what are some ways in which this can happen?

The simplest way this happens is from me reading the text and making a decision about what I read. Is this detail or discussion important enough to be included in the index? Do I think there might be a reader who will want to find this information? To be objective, I have to be careful not to let personal bias or ignorance colour my decisions.

Next, let’s consider when I have chosen to index a certain discussion in the text. I can choose to highlight that discussion in a number of ways. I could use subheadings, for example, to both provide more information to the reader about the discussion, as well as to make the entry physically larger than surrounding entries, making the entry stand out. If there are a number of possible terms for the discussion, I can choose one that readers are likely to know and use and provide cross-references from the other terms. If the discussion is found in a subheading, I have try to have that subheading sort to the top of the entry to be more visible.

Conversely, I can choose not to use subheadings, even if there are enough locators to warrant them. I could also use a less common term as the main heading, and not use cross-references or double-posts to provide multiple entry points. I could also bury a subheading in the middle or at the bottom of an entry, or use vague wording to obscure the meaning. In all these cases, a reader can still find the discussion in the index, but the discussion is much less noticeable. Of course, I could also choose to not create an entry, thereby omitting the discussion.

In a best case scenario, when there is no line or page limit for the index, we can make sure that most, if not all, of the information in the text is clearly present in the index. But I think it is important to recognize that if there is not enough space, then the indexer may be forced to cut or obscure information out of necessity to make the index fit. This is not ideal, and while more can be said, I do have a triage process in order to identify what is most important to keep in the index and what can be cut or reduced. 

To give an example of how our decisions can affect the index, a few years ago I indexed the memoir of an Indigenous politician who described, alongside his many accomplishments, his struggles with alcoholism, depression, infidelities, and being sexually assaulted in residential school. It was quite a candid account, and I created headings and subheadings for these difficult topics, where I thought appropriate, in order to reflect the text. The publisher disagreed, and either removed the subheadings or folded these into a single subheading called “personal problems.”

The first reason the publisher gave was space, which, while I did not like it, I could at least accept. The second reason, though, was that the publisher did not want to make the author look bad. I disagreed, thinking that these changes whitewashed the issues and if the author was so candid, why not the index? It seemed that the priorities of the publisher were obscuring entry points into the text, which drove home for me this idea of revelation and concealment in an index. 

In the end, the index was published as the publisher wanted. In hindsight, maybe they were right, though I am thinking more about other victims who might have found the entries to be triggering than I am thinking about the author’s reputation. My point here is not to say that I was right and the publisher wrong, because I think handling sensitive information in an index is complicated and I am willing to accept that I was not entirely right. I am sharing this story instead to show how easily indexing decisions can affect how information is transmitted in an index. Our choices as indexers (and editors of indexes) do have consequences. While we cannot always write the index we want, due to external factors, we can still be mindful about the choices we make, and choose to reveal instead of hide.