“It’s a little strange, but this is the future.”

ALA executive . . . → Read More: Books are going out the door]]> The Boston Globe reported a week ago that the Cushing Academy, a prestigious prep school in western Massachusetts, is replacing its 20,000-volume book collection with a “learning center” containing 18 eBook readers and three giant TV screens. It’s replacing the reference desk with a $12,000 espresso machine.

“It’s a little strange, but this is the future.”

ALA executive director Keith Michael Fiels says this is the first library he is aware of to eliminate books.

“When I look at books, I see an outdated technology, like scrolls before books,’’ said James Tracy, headmaster of Cushing and chief promoter of the bookless campus. “Our feeling,” he says, “is that we love books so much that we want our students to not have 20,000, but millions.”

Student Tia Alliy, a 16-year-old junior, said she visits the library nearly every day, but only once looked for a book in the stacks. “Very few students actually read them. And the more we use e-books, the fewer books we have to carry around.’’ Jemmel Billingslea, an 18-year-old senior says, “It’s a little strange, but this is the future.’’

The times are indeed a-changin’. One large library in Utah has replaced a reference service, not with an expresso bar, but with a Delicious account. At least a dozen other libraries I follow have replaced their reference desks with online reference services and in turn replaced those with Ask-a-Librarian Twitter accounts.

Have your deans or city council begun asking if your users are still reading books? Have they indicated that the space occupied by your book stacks might be better used? Is your library still serving a vital community need?

What are the implications of libraries offering collections and services based on usage? Was it a good idea in the past for libraries to eliminate research collections in favor of stocking videos and trendy novels from the best seller lists? Is usage a good indicator of value? Doesn’t it make sense doesn’t it to replace the works of William Shakespeare with big screen TVs offering access to American Idols? After all, they now get more usage (hits) than the Bard.

Libraries are under increasing pressure these days to change the ways we’ve traditionally done things. Is the book just a format medium that needs to be retired? The knee-jerk response to give customers what they want, to keep up with how people are using information, and to seek ways of cutting costs may, in the final analysis, be short sighted. Or, are the downsides of the bookless future things we can address and overcome?

The Cushing Library experience might make a great discussion at your next retreat, board meeting, or graduate seminar.

Here are few links to help you get started (don’t neglect the public’s comments; the discussions are well thought and surprisingly insightful):

• Abel, David (4 Sep 2009) Welcome to the library. Say goodbye to the books [A library without the books]. The Boston Globe.
• Peters, Stormy (4 Sep 2009) Stacks of books are disappearing. Stormy’s Corner [blog].
• Striphas, Ted (4 Sep 2009) Books: “An outdated technology?” The Late Age of Print [blog].
• West, Jessamyn (4 Sep 2009) Mistakes were made, books were removed. Librarian.net [blog].
• Private school library gets rid of all books (4 Sep 2009). LISNews [blog]
• Staino, Rocco (9 Sep 2009) New England prep school tosses its library collection. School Library Journal.

The Herriman library is actually only a library in the sense that it has books, a few shelves, and is run by women who seem . . . → Read More: Books are my drug of choice]]> Herriman» Last Thursday, I attended an open house. There were no refreshments, no wine or cheese. Not even root beer and Fritos for that matter. It was in the Herriman City Library.

The Herriman library is actually only a library in the sense that it has books, a few shelves, and is run by women who seem nice enough but are probably capable of violence if you make too much noise. .

Currently, our book repository is just a couple of rooms in a strip mall behind a Jiffy Lube. It’s not bad as small libraries go, but frankly I have more books in my basement. We deserve a better one. Not only has Herriman grown, plenty of us can even read.

The good news is that a new bigger and better library is on the way. The open house was to show off the artist’s renderings and give the public a chance to talk to the architects, county officials and workers without having to whisper.

As a journalist, I had plenty of questions. For the sake of space, here are the answers: “No, there will not be a helicopter pad, XXX-rated reading room, free doughnuts, hot tub, or parking for elephants. Please sit down.”

Before I did, I forced them to admit one important thing. The new Herriman library will have way more books, thousands and thousands of them. Eventually maybe even a million. I’m happy. You can’t go wrong with books.

Driving home I thought about all the libraries of my youth, many of them smaller than our current knothole of a facility. My family moved a lot and books were my drug of choice. There was only one place to get them legally.

———————————————————

The old man said, “You ditched school

for an entire week and went to

… the library?”

———————————————————

The smallest library I ever held a card for was actually a utility truck. The “bookmobile” came through our desert town once a week. Selection was limited but the driver/librarian was a godsend.

The driver’s name was Lloyd and he only had one foot. Depending on the intensity of his breath, he lost the other in the war or a hay baler.

Lloyd saw that I was bored. He introduced me to Joseph Altsheler’s Forest Runner series. We’ll probably never know how many lives he saved among those unfortunate enough to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with me.

The libraries of my life range from that bookmobile to the Library of Congress. Some are better than others but I’ve never visited one I would have complained about being locked in for the night.

I was thrown out of a library only once. A city librarian figured out that no 15-year-old kid belonged in a library three days in a row during the school year and called the cops.

For once, the old man wasn’t mad that he had to leave work and come and get me. He was deeply confused. The look on his face was a blend of pity and pride.

“Let me see if I got this straight,” he said. “You ditched school for an entire week and went to … the library?”

It’s the only time telling the truth ever got me out of a whacking.

– Robert Kirby

Robert Kirby is a columnist for The Salt Lake Tribune. This story originally appeared his “Kirby” column, February 4, 2009. http://www.sltrib.com/ci_11617648

Reprinted in Utah Libraries with permission of The Salt Lake Tribune