Latest / The Scott Townsend Show / I Tried To Pay My Library Fine
Transcript
- Scott M Townsend: Welcome to the Scott Townsend Show, brought to you by Deetso Man Productions. Hey, welcome back to the Svat Townsend show. Today I want to talk about library fan find with the lack. Because the other day I returned to overdo library books. They were due ⁓ july twenty third, I think it was, so I wasn't just a little late. I wasn't walking in one day past the deadline, hoping nobody would notice. Enough time had passed that I was preparing myself for some kind of consequence. I had the complete Don Quixote adapted and illustrated by Rob Davis, along with another book. A few days earlier, I suddenly realized they were still sitting at my house. Usually I receive a notice when something is overdue, but I hadn't gotten one this time. When it finally dawned on me how long I'd had them, I thought, ⁓ my gosh, I need to get these back. I started wondering how much I owed. It probably wasn't going to be enough to force me into bankruptcy, but the way my mind works is I was already imagining myself walking in and financing a new wing of the library. So I gathered up the books, took them to the front desk and handed them to the man working there. He checked them in and said, Okay, thanks a lot. We appreciate it. That seemed a little too easy. I said, You might want to check because I'm pretty sure I owe something. These are overdue. He said, ⁓ no. We don't charge overdue fines anymore. I said, What? He told me the change had been announced in City Beat and on Facebook, but somehow I had completely missed it. I just stood there for a moment. I had walked in prepared to confess, accept responsibility, and hand over some money. Instead, he basically said, You're good. Have a nice day. I should have been happy. And I was happy. But it also felt strange. Going to the public library has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Some of my earliest memories are of my grandfather picking me up and taking me there to find books. We would walk through the rows of shelves and I would look for something that caught my attention. Then we would take our selections to the counter. Back then each book had a card inside. The person behind the desk would put the card into a little machine and make a copy of it. I don't remember exactly how that machine worked, I only remember being fascinated by it. As a child, the entire process seemed almost magical. You could walk into a building filled with books, choose the ones you wanted, and take them home without buying them. You could read about almost anything. You could visit places you had never seen, learn about people who lived hundreds of years ago, or get lost in a story someone had invented. When you finished, you took the books back and picked out more. It was an incredible arrangement. There was only one catch you were expected to return what you borrowed. That seemed like a reasonable deal to me. Maybe that is why this new policy surprised me so much. It wasn't really about the money. I've paid small overdue charges before. I don't I didn't enjoy paying them, but I understood why they were there. If I kept something longer than I agreed to keep it, that was my responsibility. But now the penalty was gone, and a thought immediately popped into my head. Does this mean I could have kept Don Quixote for the rest of my life? Could I have passed it down as a family heirloom? This Illustrated Edition has been in the Townsend family for generations. Technically, it belongs to the city of Bartlesville, but they stopped charging us, so we decided to see how long we could ride this thing out. Obviously, I wasn't going to keep it. I brought it back. But the experience left me with some questions. Without a financial penalty, what encourages people to return things on time? What happens when someone keeps a popular title for two months, six months, or a year? At what point does somebody say, We would really like that back? There may be other consequences that I don't know about. Perhaps your account is blocked until you return the item. Maybe you are eventually charged for replacing it. It's possible the new system works perfectly well and I simply don't understand it yet. I need to learn more about My first reaction though was that I didn't like the change. I realized how ridiculous that sounds. I was told I didn't owe any money and me my reaction was Are you sure you don't want to punish me a little? Most people don't argue when somebody tells them they don't have to pay. But the old system represented something beyond a few cents a day. It reinforced the idea that borrowing comes with an obligation. That book doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the community. My opportunity to read it depends on the previous person bringing it back. So, you know, the next person's opportunity depends on me doing the same thing. It's a simple system. Built on cooperation. If I keep a book beyond its due date, it might not appear to hurt anyone. But somewhere another reader could be waiting for it, I guess. I may not see that person, but my decision still affects them. So I started wondering whether removing the consequence might make the due date feel less like a deadline and more like a suggestion. Please return this by july twenty third. But whenever you happen to think about it is probably fine. At the same time, I can see another side to the issue. Suppose someone keeps a book too long and owes a few dollars. Maybe that person is embarrassed. Maybe money is tight. Maybe instead of returning to settle the account, they avoid the place completely. A small charge could become a wall between that person and all the resources available to them. It could be especially difficult for a child. A book gets lost in a bedroom under a car seat or somewhere in a crowded house. The child may have had a little control over what happened, but now that child can no longer check out anything else. If eliminating that barrier brings families back, encourages children to read, and gives more people access, then perhaps it is worth trying. There may also be a practical reason. Chasing people down over small amounts of money may take more time and effort than it produces in revenue. The employees probably don't enjoy arguing over eighty-five cents either. And maybe the threat of a charge doesn't actually make people more responsible. Perhaps most people re will return what they borrow because they know it is the right thing to do. That is what happened with me. Once I realized I still had the books. I brought ⁓ back. I didn't need a bill to make that decision. The embarrassment may have been enough. Standing at the counter holding something that was due more than a month ago has a way of making you feel like you're reporting yourself to the authorities. So maybe the policy is less about removing responsibility and more about changing how responsibility is encouraged. I'm still trying to decide what I think. Part of me believes consequences matter. If we agree to do something by a certain date, there ought to be some reason to honor that agreement. Another part of me understands that a public institution exists to serve people, and if an old policy keeps people away without improving return rates, then changing it makes sense. This experience also reminded me how much the world has changed since those childhood trips with my grandfather. The cards inside the books are gone. The little machine that fascinated me is gone. The stamped dates are mostly gone. A lot of the process is now digital, and apparently the overdue charges are gone too. But the basic idea remains remarkable. You walk into a building, choose from thousands of books and take several of them home. You don't have to buy anything, you don't need a subscription. Nobody asks whether you are important enough or wealthy enough to be there. The doors are open and the information is waiting. That is an extraordinary public service, one that I think many of us take for granted. Maybe that is the more important point. Policies will change, technology will change, the way we check things out and return them will change, but the opportunity to read, explore, and learn is still there. I still want to know how the no find system works. I want to know why the decision was made, whether most people are using the service and whether books are still being returned at the same rate. Maybe there is a thoughtful long term plan behind it. Maybe this policy is working better than the old one. Or maybe Don Quixote and half the collection will eventually disappear into people's living rooms, never to be seen again. I honestly don't know. But I intend to find out. In the meantime, I'm curious about your experience. Has your local branch stopped charging overdue fines? If so, do you think the change has been beneficial? Does it make the institution more welcoming or does it remove an important sense of responsibility? Let me know in the comments below. You can also send an email to Scott at Scott Townsend.info. And if you have an overdue book sitting on your nightstand under your bed or in the back seat of your car, let this be your reminder. Take it back. Even if it doesn't cost you anything. Because somebody else may be waiting to read it. Hey, this is Scott Townsend. Thanks for listening to the Scott Townsend Show. Have a great day. Everything's gonna be alright, and we'll talk to you later. For more episodes, visit the Scott Townsend Show YouTube channel, listen on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.