“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:
- Books are for use.
- Every reader his or her book.
- Every book its reader.
- Save the time of the reader.
- 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.”