Imagine, for a moment, that I’m a celebrity hugging a book in a public service announcement.
Libraries. They’re like Netflix, on amphetamines.
I’m almost certain not enough people are aware of this, but they’ll hand you just about anything: books, music, movies, magazines, comics, VCR head-cleaners. You’re not even at the whim of what’s in the building – you ask for something, they track it down, across the state or country if they have to. They never ask for money, unless you’re like me and can’t always remember to give them their stuff back on time.
Yep, libraries. They were a lot of fun while they lasted.
But just last week, a sad but not surprising headline popped up from the New York Times: “HarperCollins Limits E-Book Lending.” Apparently, publishers are fully aware that the switch to digital everything is the perfect opportunity to do a little game-changing; even if the game involves revered public institution that gets culture and information to the people at no cost to them.
Well, perhaps especially that. This is where my enthusiasm for technology and my love of the things it’s supposed to deliver by superior means sort of collides. E-Books should be a no-brainer. They take up a infinitesimal amount of space and can be obtained on-the-fly, wherever there’s a wireless signal.
But in practice, they give publishers, not readers, more control over the product. They are sold and distributed in proprietary, rights-managed formats, and lending them is more or less impossible for individuals. Libraries have slowly scratched their way into the digital realm, and even then, you’ll find the E-Book selection at the Portland Public Library is still a work in progress; they rely on special grants and have to pick, choose and bargain for what they can offer.
HarperCollins, one of the largest publishers, is taking the initiative to make the digital switchover even more costly and cumbersome; their new rules create a sort of self-destruct mechanism after a book is lent out 26 times. After that, the library has to buy the item again at full list price. Considering that our own public library system has 340,000 items for borrowing, the idea of someday operating under those new rules at anywhere near that scale is mind-blowing. Isn’t it?
“The relationship between libraries and publishers is definitely strained,” says Steve Podgajny, Portland Public Library’s Exective Director. “And this is a flash point.”
Podgajny, who nonetheless remains optimistic about libraries’ digital futures, doesn’t buy the analogy that HarperCollins is trying to make here.
“It’s pretty rare that a physical book falls apart or goes missing after just twenty-six lendings,” Podjany says.
So HarperCollins is seizing the opportunity to rewrite the rules. Sad thing is, compared to other content providers, publishers are wearing kid gloves. Can you imagine the record labels, who are just coming down from the high you get suing single mothers for downloading Aerosmith songs, letting their content go out free to the public? Again, the people charged with seeing libraries into this wilderness keep their heads up – they’re hard at work on a digital audio solution, but they’re working with businesses that regularly seek and destroy 10-second samples of their property on YouTube.
Libraries are literally ancient things. The last time they had anything like a fallout with content providers was back during the late 1960s, when the thought of librarians armed with xerox machines sent them into a cold sweat.
But the pessimist in me – admittedly a healthy portion – wonders if they aren’t facing the same not-too-distant fate as used record stores and pay phones. With the web, publishers need them less and less; they have “limited previews,” webcasts, and controlled ecosystems. They’re businesses, understandably concerned about their bottom line.
And we should be just as protective of our public resources.