Public libraries all across the country are in danger of being closed down, and Colorado’s branches are no exception. Aurora shuttered four local libraries at the end of 2009, and Denver’s branches will see new cuts in hours and increases in fees. Like most public institutions, libraries have been victim to the current economic downturn with 40 percent of states decreasing their public library funding.
But amid their funding losses, the last couple of years have seen a substantial rise in the number of library users as out-of-work Americans avail themselves of resources in their quest for employment. The president of the American Library Association, Jim Rettig, says, “When economic times get tough . . . many families across the country are turning to a familiar place, the public library . . . . Now, more than ever, libraries are proving that they are valued and trusted community partners.”
Being trusted and valued in a time of national hardship is inspiring, but whether this crisis-generated bump in library use will actually correlate to increases in individual contributions to make up for current funding gaps is doubtful. It’s unrealistic to expect that intermittent users of library services will feel a long-term commitment to supporting the public library system.
There is, however, a pool of individuals who might be better positioned to take up the clarion call for increased funding to public libraries: members of the virtual worker class. I refer to those freelancers who have cropped up in cafes around the country to nurse $2 cups of coffee while hunched over a laptop for a five-hour stretch. If freelancers resettled in public libraries, they would undeniably develop a commitment to the public library system’s sustainability. And their absence from cafes — which they have essentially transformed into a silence-is-golden atmosphere — would permit a once-lively cafe culture to regenerate.
Cafes have always served as venues for contemplation and composition, though historically conversation has shared an equally prominent place at the table. But with the increasing availability of cheap and free wireless access in cafes, and the recession-laden economy rendering private work spaces less affordable, the cafe has become an obvious alternative for virtual workers. The phenomenon’s effect on cafe owners has been well-documented. There is a delicate balance between filling seats, particularly during daytime hours, and the cafe’s need to turn a profit through a steady turnover of customers.
The ubiquitousness of technology has had consequences far beyond the complex relationship between cafe owners and their customers in-residence. It has perceptibly drained cafes of a more traditional social atmosphere for engaged, dynamic and discursive exchanges. Stephen Miller, author of “Conversation: A History of a Declining Art,” has documented the fall and labeled those de rigeur accoutrements of modern living — the cellphone and the iPod — as “conversation avoidance mechanisms” or worse, “a distraction that undermines conversation.”
The same could be said about computers in cafes — the back of each laptop screen mediating the divide between the user and those nearby. The obvious irony of the set-up being that communication — or networking — is happening online as opposed to off.
The rich history of artists, writers and intellectuals flocking to cafes to hash out ideas, collaborate artistically, grow movements, and display their talents attests to the singular function of the cafe in society. But when a cafe stops functioning like a cafe and more like a library, the chance for any rich intellectual banter is inherently less likely. The palpable hush over the cafe, punctuated only by the tapping of computer keys, would make anyone think they were in a reading room instead of a meeting-and-greeting room.
Perhaps if freelancers currently hoarding cafe spots utilized their local libraries as work hubs, they too would consider the library to be the “valued and trusted partner” characterized by the Library Association president. As daily library-goers, freelancers would develop an appreciation for the ever-expanding set of resources offered, and in turn might feel compelled to make an investment in their own library’s future — including advocating for more staff, longer hours, and increased funding.
Denver’s public libraries would have to explore creatively how best to entice freelancers. But with a new class of citizens actively championing the public library system, its future survival would be better assured. And cafes could once again become the watering holes for the literati, as well as for the rest of us who are simply interested in exchanging lively conversation.
Jennifer Weiss (weissj2003@yahoo.com) is co-author, with Leonard Benardo, of “Citizen-in Chief: The Second Lives of the American Presidents.” She lives in Brooklyn.
