Libraries, Liberty and the Pursuit of Public Information

The public library seems like an institution out of time. In an age of raging individualism and privatization, the public library stands as an enduring monument to the values of cooperation and sharing. In an era of globalization and gigantism, it remains firmly rooted and in scale with its community. One could simply dismiss the public library as an anachronism, an idea whose time is past. Except for one thing. It works.

The U.S. claims the most extensive library system in the world. With 8,923 central libraries and 7,124 branches, our public libraries are used by almost two-thirds (65 percent) of all households at least once each year; they loan 1.6 billion items and answer 284 million reference questions annually by telephone alone.

Considered by many "the great democratic bargain," public libraries are among the most efficient and popular of tax-supported services, serving 66 percent of adults for less than 1 percent of all tax dollars. The average cost of public library service nationwide today is about $24.50 per person annually, or roughly the price of a single hardcover book. Almost 80 percent of the funding for libraries comes from localities. Only 1 percent comes from the federal government. For less than $25, a cardholder in a typical public library gains access not only to the items shelved in that particular building, but to billions of items cataloged by libraries throughout the world.

When politicians forget how valuable the local library is, their constituents remind them. Consider the Riverview Branch Library in St. Paul, Minnesota, a tidy red brick Carnegie library with graceful arched windows set on a quiet street in St. Paul’s West Side neighborhood. One of 13 branches in a city of only 272,000, the small library serves a population of approximately 15,000, about half the size of the average library service area nationwide. Its small population and the neighborhood’s high proportion of non-English speaking residents and new immigrants have for many years left Riverview with the lowest circulation rate of any library in the city of St. Paul.

It was not entirely a surprise, then, in 1982 that the mayor of St. Paul recommended closing the branch to cut expense during lean financial times. What did come as a surprise, to the mayor and others, was the overwhelming hue and cry that arose from the neighborhood in response. When a local community organization called a meeting at the library to protest the closure, over 600 people showed up–enough to fill the small library’s meeting room six times over, requiring the meeting to be moved to a nearby church. Mayor George Latimer quickly rescinded his proposal, joining the scores of other public officials nationwide who have learned the hard way that the local library may be the last thing you want to close. As one library director from a major suburban library system in Maryland puts it, closing a branch library is tantamount to cutting the heart out of a neighborhood.

Community Connection

In the present-day infatuation with all things private and amidst the growing number of chain bookstores masquerading as libraries, it is nothing short of a miracle that public libraries remain such a cherished, well-used and fiercely protected public institution.

It’s the building, say some–the sense of place provided by a public building accessible to all and with something to offer everyone, including the growing number of people who are home schooling, telecommuting or facing early retirement. "Where do communities see their gathering place?" asks Norman Maas, library director in Saginaw, Michigan. "It’s the library."

But the building is only one of many reasons people are attached to their public libraries. Another is libraries’ high level of citizen involvement–from the local boards that govern most public libraries to the "Friends of the Library" groups whose members volunteer time and sometimes money to support their local libraries. Altogether, about 60,000 citizen trustees sit on public library boards, which Sarah Long, past president of the American Library Association, calls, "the essence of the partnership between civil society and government."