The Hypermodern Library

“So you work in a library, huh? Aren’t you worried that libraries are going to die out?”

Whenever I meet someone new, it’s only a matter of time before that question comes up. While it does seem a little condescending (I think of it as the library equivalent to “I just peel the stickers off” for the Rubik’s Cube), it’s usually asked with sincerity. As such, I genuinely do enjoy answering and providing a little enlightenment on what libraries do. I have a stock answer which goes something like this:

“Libraries are for organizing and providing information. That information used to only be in the form of books, but now it comes in many other formats. In fact, we are now living in the Information Age and the amount of information in the world is growing faster than ever. So to sort through that information, to tell the real from the fake, and to help us find what we need, libraries are needed more than ever. The mission hasn’t changed, just the medium.”

This answer usually satisfies the average person’s curiosity, but every time I give it my own uncertainty just grows. The concept is just a little too tidy and logical to reflect the complexities of the real world. It’s also relentlessly optimistic even though the situation on the ground is much more mixed. Basically, it’s exactly what I want to hear tied up nicely with a bow on top, and that makes it dangerous regardless of its actual veracity. 

Upon reflection, though, I wouldn’t say this answer is “wrong” – every sentence is accurate and follows logically. But it is fatally incomplete. To realize what’s missing, we have to go back to the original question: “Aren’t you worried that libraries are going to die out?” This isn’t about the library of today, it’s about the library of tomorrow – not what we are doing to react to trends that are out of our control, but what we can do to proactively adjust in advance of things we couldn’t possibly predict.

The hard truth is that the “new vision” I present for the library is just not that new. To put it very starkly: I have never used (or even seen) a card catalog. I have never known a library without public PC’s or the internet. I expect a database system to keep track of my checkouts, not a card in the back of each book. I expect an automated email when my hold on a Wi-fi hotspot becomes available. The children of my generation who grew up with the modern library are adults now.

Therefore, far from being a prediction of what the library might become, we actually have a multi-decade track record for this model of what the library does. So what are the results? They’re not great. Circulation continues to fall, even when eBook checkouts and usage of digital resources is included. Many of the more abstract “information services” associated with this new vision are difficult to quantify and evaluate at all. Most alarmingly, the number of people using the library overall is down, meaning they’re not using any services, quantifiable or not.

This isn’t to say that the library should have just rolled over and given up the day the internet was invented. But it does mean that if we continue in the same vein for another 20 years the answer to the question “Are libraries going to die out?” is going to be “they already did”. What we need to do, then, is envision a concept of what the library can be in an even more rapidly changing world.

To build forward to that concept, we first need to look back past the modern day to the traditional library. The mission of the traditional library is very straightforward – connect people to books. (“Books”, of course, is a stand-in for any kind of written information. The great libraries of antiquity used clay tablets and scrolls but still had the same mission.) This idea of the library being a place that facilitates the relationship between people and books is embodied in the five laws of library science:

  1. Books are for use. 
  2. Every reader his or her book. 
  3. Every book its reader. 
  4. Save the time of the reader. 
  5. A library is a growing organism.

These five laws work in harmony to encapsulate what the library should do: make it as easy as possible for people to access books that meet their needs. Nevertheless, the traditional library also conjures up associations of restrictions – don’t talk or you’ll get shushed, don’t bring in food or you’ll get kicked out, don’t damage a book or you’ll have to pay for it. To this day, this is how many people still think of the library.

When moving forward from the traditional library to the modern library, what is striking is how little difference there is on a fundamental level. In fact, my stock answer about the fate of the library is meant to emphasize that continuity by pointing out how books are just one of many information formats. Just swapping “information” for “books” in the laws of library science makes the transition seamless, and the mission gets the same substitution – connect people to information

As I said before, this isn’t wrong. But it also isn’t enough. Even if the library provides better, more organized information than a Google search, convenience and lack of awareness will tip the scales in favor of Google more and more every year. We have to go forward in a way that leverages what the library is for a purpose that can’t be replicated by that kind of substitute. As someone who plans to spend the next 30+ years working in libraries, I especially have a vested interest in what this future will look like.

My vision, then, for the hypermodern library is a place that facilitates social cohesion first and foremost. This is a far bigger leap than that from the traditional to the modern. However, it is not, as it might seem, a wholesale rejection of the library’s role as an information repository. The two roles working together create a new mission – connect people to people through information. We don’t need to throw out all the books and start over – we just have to think about information as the conduit, not just the end product.

This concept isn’t earth-shattering. Book clubs, storytime, and many other programs and outreach initiatives we’ve been doing for decades already fulfill a social mission. When we place that mission front and center, though, it starts to spark ideas for other ways to fulfill it. People (especially young people) are looking for ways to make real connections in this increasingly digital and fragmented world. The library is already one of the very few public places where people are free to just be without the pressure of having to buy or do something, so it would be a natural progression to make it a space not just to be but also to meet, mix, and form a community. Compare that to the restrictions associated with the traditional library and try to say it isn’t a radical change!

Again, though, this would not make information an afterthought in the library’s mission. Think of how you feel when you discover someone is reading a book you loved, or listens to the same bands you do, or grew up in the same neighborhood you did. You want to get to know them more, right? Shared information, no matter the format, is a surefire spark for interpersonal relationships and understanding, and the way the library already organizes and provides information freely and equally is a crucial building block for the hypermodern mission.

This isn’t just theory – it’s actually happened time and again in the various places I’ve worked in the library. I remember watching two sets of parents working on computers while their children played nearby and how their different situations brought them together over the course of an evening. I loved whenever two or more of our “favorite families” would come in at the same time, because I knew that the qualities that endeared them to us would endear them to each other as well. And it broke my heart to see the lonely new mother bringing her baby to storytime to seek out new friends for both of them only to be disappointed that no one else showed up. 

When I interviewed for what would ultimately end up being my first full-time position in the library, I tied some of those examples together to explain what made me passionate about the work we do in the library. I summarized my story with these words: “The library should not just serve or engage the community – it should create the community.” I have a feeling that sharing that succinct but profound philosophy played a role in my getting the job, and I have tried to live up to it every working hour since then. As I consider what the hypermodern library looks like, though, there is one tweak I would make to reflect the urgency of the situation. This is the philosophy the library needs to carry forward into an uncertain future:

“The library cannot just serve or engage the community – it must create the community.”

Risk and Reward

I’ve never been a fan of the lottery for a number of reasons. The slangy label “idiot tax” contains more than a little truth, but it doesn’t scratch the surface of the real negative effects of the lottery. Profits supposedly earmarked for education or other worthy causes are quietly pushed to other budget items, poor people with little other hope become addicted to the petty thrill of gambling, and those who beat the odds frequently blow through their entire winnings and end up worse off than when they started.

Nonetheless, one of my favorite songs actually portrays the lottery in a fairly positive light. In fact, I think what draws me to the song is how it made me rethink some of my preconceived notions and come out with a stronger, more nuanced viewpoint. The appropriately titled “The Lottery Song” was originally recorded by Harry Nilsson in 1972, but it was The Format’s 2006 cover version that I heard first and identify with more.

“You could do the laundry, I’ll come by on Monday

You give me the money, I will buy a ticket

On the local lottery, we could win the lottery

We could go to Vegas and be very happy”

This first verse leans into the fantasy that powers the lottery (and the countless ads promoting it). In between your humdrum household chores, you could punch your ticket to an exciting new life! It’s a powerful message, and if you don’t think about it too hard it’s easy to become a believer. But when distilled to just a few lines in a song, the absurdity shines through. How could anyone bank any future happiness on something so unlikely?

“I could be a plumber, we could wait ’til summer

We could save our money, have a fine vacation

We could buy a trailer, if we bought a trailer

We could go to Vegas and be very happy”

On a first listen, this sounds like a stark alternative to the previous verse. Working an honest job, putting money away dollar by dollar, and taking a well-earned vacation every once in a while is the epitome of responsibility and self-control, right? Yet this lifestyle is portrayed in a verse with the same format and same ending as the previous one, which encourages us to explore a little deeper. It turns out that the responsible life isn’t such a sure thing after all.

“If life is just a gamble, gamble if you want to win

Life can be so easy, let the wheel of fortune spin”

Nothing in life is guaranteed. You could lose your job through no fault of your own, watch your savings evaporate in a market crash, or even have your brand-new trailer break down in the Arizona desert. When we live our lives the “right” way, we’re still counting on a series of day-to-day lucky breaks to get us what we “deserve”. Every step is a gamble towards a better life whether we acknowledge it or not. 

“We could make a record, sell a lot of copies

We could play Las Vegas, and be very happy”

Ultimately, though, the decisions that really count in life fall somewhere between “no hope” and “sure shot”. The idea of starting a band and making a record exemplifies that gray area – the product is under your control and dependent on your talent and hard work, but the world you put your work out into may or may not like it. When you have an opportunity of any kind, you have to decide whether to pass or play with imperfect knowledge of how it will all turn out.

“If life is just a gamble, gamble if you want to win

Life can be so easy, let the wheel of fortune spin”

For me, this song is saying that it’s worth erring on the side of taking a chance, especially in small things. When perfectionism is telling me, “Don’t bring that idea up to your boss until you’re 100% sure it work,” or social anxiety is telling me, “Don’t strike up that conversation, you’ll just embarrass yourself,” I can tell myself, “Life is just a gamble, gamble if you want to win.” I could be losing the next step in my career, my new best friend, or something even greater if I don’t at least buy a ticket.

You still won’t see in line for the Powerball any time soon. But this understanding of how life is like a lottery has helped me seize opportunities that I might have otherwise passed up, and I hope it can help you do the same.

Thinking in Gray

What is “thinking in gray”? I chose it as my Instagram username over three years ago, but I’m still unraveling what it means to me. 

Now, gray is certainly my favorite color, and I do tend to do a lot of thinking. But although that interpretation does cover all the bases, it’s also highly superficial and doesn’t say much about me specifically. It’s hard to think of a more generic “fun personal fact” than favorite color, and thinking is, rather famously, something that every human being does. (Homo sapiens literally means “thinking man” or “wise man”).

The brain is also full of gray matter, critical for regulating emotions, making decisions, and self-control. If this is what “thinking in gray” is all about, then maybe it’s my way of identifying with those processes and how I’ve struggled with them over the years. This, I think, is closer to the truth. The fulfillment I’ve found in recent months as I’ve started to find my voice on mental health issues scratches that same deep itch I was feeling when I came up with the phrase years ago.

Yet there’s still more meaning to uncover in those three simple words. Gray can be a visible color or a description of physical cells, but it can also represent a concept. The “gray areas” in our lives are those where the things we think we know for sure come into conflict with each other. This is where we find moral dilemmas, hard decisions, and lose-lose situations: where black and white mix and we lose the clarity that comes with one or the other.

It’s difficult to live in a world full of gray areas, to be sure. But this hard truth brings out what I think is the most important meaning of all from the phrase “thinking in gray”. It means that we don’t have to say “this phrase is about favorite colors/neuroscience, and that’s it”. Instead, we can entertain all the interpretations from the superficial to the profound and let them meet, mix, contradict, and alter each other. In fact, this is how our brains themselves work on the deepest level – the gray matter firing on the lowest level coalesces into symbols, thoughts, and consciousness that has the power to reach back down and affect itself.

So does thinking in gray just mean juggling meanings, getting stuck in mental feedback loops, doubting every decision, making mistakes, and not knowing things for sure? I think it does. But that’s just part of the human condition – every single one of us is going to do those things, like it or not. Our choice is whether to accept and grow into that insecurity or ignore it and let it destroy us before we even realize it was there.

One of my favorite musical artists, Jon Bellion, explains this much better than I can (and in fewer words, to boot):

“I guess if I knew tomorrow, I guess I wouldn’t need faith

I guess if I never fell, I guess I wouldn’t need grace

I guess if I knew His plans, I guess He wouldn’t be God

So maybe I don’t know, but maybe that’s okay”

I’ll be thinking in gray, and I hope you will too.