Libraries, Fines, and Equity
I occasionally look back over my library career and ponder my pathway. The steps, the moments, the decisions can retrospectively appear sequentially natural and part of a plan devised with a lot of forethought. Of course, that was not the case at all. When I was young, though, my only dreams were to play pro baseball or basketball, spurred on by my dad who planted the seed I could do whatever I wanted, even be a major leaguer. Not a bad dream to follow — along with probably half of my fellow classmates in elementary school — although maybe not practical for a left-handed and height-challenged, glasses-wearing book nerd.
The pro sports thing never worked out, and I had that figured out by eleventh grade when I got cut from the baseball team, but amazingly to this day when watching a game my brain misleads me in thinking I could be out there helping my beloved Tigers.
I landed in public library-land and not because of a love for reading or a need to organize books, but because of a persistent desire to help provide a good thing for a community. Most librarians share that characteristic. We work with an understanding that libraries have meaning and importance for those entering the door, no matter their story. The day I first stepped foot into leading a library was the same time my wife and I were raising three little ones. We were keenly aware of the importance of early literacy as a determinant for success in life, and this period of growth and education in my home influenced my work and gave me a good perspective on how important and necessary a library is for a neighborhood and a city, especially our youth.
I learned that people depend on libraries for many different reasons. Dependence of course on books, audios, movies, internet access, homework or school projects, or even just a simple desire to learn more — at any age — and explore the shelves. It happens every day. People also depend on the library as a place. It may mean a quiet space, a place to see others, a place to hear a lecture, or a place to download a book at midnight by way of the online library.
Libraries are places of equality. Anyone can enter the door and can get a card. Anyone can check out a book or attend a program or use a computer. It does not matter what side of town you live in or how you arrived at the front door. Income level, theoretically, has no bearing. You are welcome to enter, you are welcome to sit down and utilize library resources. However, we also recognize that not everyone is on equal footing, and that issues of equity are always at play.
Many libraries in recent years, including Lincoln City Libraries, stopped assessing fines for overdue materials after concluding that those most affected by fines were those most likely unable to pay them, and those most likely to then stop visiting libraries. What may have started a hundred years ago as a well-intentioned method for ensuring books get returned on time for the enjoyment of others, fines unfortunately resulted in excluding members of the community most vulnerable and most in need for what a library can offer, namely, to strengthen a neighborhood and build up and prepare our youth for future success.
After one year since going fine-free at Lincoln City Libraries, our collected data shows no loss in service — or to be precise, items are returned at the same rate prior to the change, hold times have not gotten longer, and our replacement book budget has not increased. The best part: patrons missing in action are returning to the library. New card registrations increased in 2022–2023 at a rate not seen since 2015. Oh, and staff no longer spend parts of their day engaged in frequent and difficult fee collection encounters at service desks, but now spend more time assisting patrons in more fruitful ways. Removing fines was really a small step for an institution to take but involved a massive change of thought on how best to operate and still create opportunities where we create more equity — all with the real goal of strengthening our city by not neglecting those who need libraries.
I can still dream about the big leagues or hitting the game-winning shot, but my real-life joy comes from seeing people using their library card.
