Little Free Libraries, public libraries, or something else?

Public libraries or Little Free Libraries®?

I love books. I love libraries, both for their practical value and as temples of learning and storehouses of knowledge over time. I like what libraries do, and how the nobility of their missions is often reflected in their architecture, whether grand university libraries or modest but sturdy “Carnegie libraries” in towns all across the US. I’m proud of the fact that the publicly-supported, truly free (no cost to subscribe or borrow) public library is basically an American invention. I actually get a tiny dose of optimism about humanity when I enter a public library and see kids reading or being read to, people using the free computers with Internet access, notices for free services around résumé coaching and job placement in multiple languages… you get the idea.

There’s a bunch of LFLs in my neighborhood too. The first time I saw one of these I was charmed, and I’ve been a regular contributor to (and borrower from) LFLs ever since.

Do these compete with each other? If I want to disseminate good books and encourage reading, is it a zero-sum game in supporting one over the other? Or does each have its place?

There isn’t a lot of scholarly study of this, but there is some, and one thing they agree on is that even though part of the LFLs’ mission is to irrigate “book deserts,” in practice LFLs are most abundant in the neighborhoods that are already most affluent and arguably least in need of them.

There is one rather shrill scholarly paper by Schmidt and Hale arguing that “…the LFL® movement is an example of the non-profit industrial complex (NPIC) in action, and, at street level, reminds us that government funded public libraries are not to be taken for granted in an era of civic crowdfunding where the privileged classes [defined as those meeting or above median household incomes in a given neighbourhood] feel emboldened to take control of traditionally government-funded civic services.” My initial reaction to that is, fuck you. I can assure you that when I drop off a couple of books I’m finished with at one of the LFL boxes, I am manifestly not intending to “take control of traditionally government-funded civic services,” as if I were somehow trying to actively co-opt the services of the (excellent) San Francisco Public Library, which also has a nice little branch in my neighborhood. I can’t imagine the LFL founders are some kind of nonprofit slumlords – I genuinely believe their heart is in the same place as mine: more books available to more people means more reading, and more reading makes a more informed public which is better all around.

The kind of polemic in this paper doesn’t seem to help shed any light on how LFLs and public libraries can or should work together to avoid “competing” for individuals’ support. Perhaps more productive in an article posted on the Wickson Library’s website is the statistic that there are 3 LFLs for every public library in the US (although I’m sure they’re not evenly distributed) that “while much smaller than their public counterparts, tend to complement and increase existing library offerings as they reach farther into the community. No library cards, due dates, or fines!” This last point is a valid one: some public library users get blocked for having accumulated too many fines, so they turn to an LFL instead. (Though arguably LFLs shouldn’t exist to enable this bad behavior, where a better alternative would be to encourage some level of accountability; even fine amnesty isn’t necessarily needed to do this.) Another article reports that some public libraries have sponsored LFL boxes and the programs are very popular with their members, and in some cases have increased library-adjacent volunteerism and wider sense of ownership of the library’s mission; these seem like things that could ultimately benefit libraries.

There are also legitimate concerns about LFLs identified in these articles. Hale and Schmidt found at least one case where LFLs have replaced libraries that either shut down due to lack of funding or found themselves in a position of having to charge for membership to pay the bills. Having LFLs fill that vacuum sets the dangerous precedent that when the tax base is withdrawn, privately-supported LFLs can and will pick up the slack.

As well, the selection and quality of LFL books isn’t curated – for better or worse, it’s stuff people are willing to get rid of. (I can imagine that the quality of books found depends heavily on the neighborhood.)

Most importantly, actual public libraries, as I suggested above, provide far more than a repository of freely-loanable books: they provide services of many kinds, activities, support for finding information, literacy programs, and much more. The irony of this is illustrated in the below cartoon found on one of the LFL pages.

SO…what do I do with the (generally high quality) books I’m willing to part with? My neighborhood is affluent, and surely most of the people who live here could easily afford to buy these books themselves. (We have a great independent new & used bookstore right around the corner from the branch library.) I could donate them to the Friends of the SF Public Library, but my understanding is most donations are destined for fundraising book sales rather than going into circulation. Not that I claim to be a good judge of which books ought to go into circulation; I just want others to be able to benefit from books I found useful, entertaining, or informative, but that I no longer need.

What’s your opinion?