Eric Schwennesen - Libraries

It is 2.30 on a Tuesday afternoon in September, in Arizona; it's unnaturally hot even by our standards, and my feet are freezing. This is because of a progressively more complex and ludicrous chain of events that has linked commercial cattle ranching to Federal laws, local commercial activity, the price of avocados and/or DVDs available for borrowing from our local library. (Note: "local" is a relative term; in this case it is 23 miles to said facility).  

The common denominator in this chain of events is something the world had never seen until 25 years ago: the Internet. This electronic communication system has been gradually replacing social skills worldwide, so much so that a large proportion of the human race can now barely function without little buttons to express their feelings.

To a point, this is predictable; but there is an underlying assumption that if the Internet is going to replace other forms of exchange, it is going to replace them; and that implies constancy and reliability. Which we, out on the fringes of existence, are ineligible. For us, the Internet is available ...sometimes.

Which is how I happen to be in our "local'' library after shoeing horses all morning, taking advantage of a connection otherwise not ours to have. And, on a 100 degree day, thanks to air conditioning, my feet are freezing.

I believe the root word for "library" is "libro", meaning "book"; but new technology has been refuting all that. Increasingly, libraries have been representing themselves as technology centers; thus, a source for computer connections, videos, films on DVDs, meeting places for storytelling, and with a few shelves of shopworn books, usually pushed into the background. 

For a number of years we have witnessed libraries actually disposing of many  books, on the apparent basis that electronics can replace them all. I found out by asking, that the standard for keeping books on the shelves is how many times they have been requested or checked out over the years. No check-outs, no keepies. 

What a remarkable policy! The wisdom of the human race reduced to a popularity contest for the current generation.

Books give individuals from any age a way to communicate with many others from any other age. The true purpose of a library was to make that communication possible. Computers and batteries will never match the shelf-life of real books, some already centuries old.

Eric Schwennesen is a commercial beef rancher in the Mogollon Rim country. He grew up in Belgium, cowboyed in Nevada, and helped Navajos and many African peoples with rangeland conflicts for over 35 years. He recently published "The Field Journals: Adventures in Pastoralism" about his experiences.  

Eric is right, there is nothing like the feel, even the smell of a book. Whether it is fiction or nonfiction, there was always the satisfaction of snapping the book shut upon completion, and placing it in the proper place on the shelf.

However, the new technology is a god-send for folks like me. Suffering from a neurological disease, the ability to hold a book in my hands is disappearing and trying to turn the pages is an infuriating chore. As a result, pdf, epub, kindle, and all the electronic formats are my friends. I also marvel that, having collected books for fifty years, two folders on my computer hold a vaster library than my bookshelves. These new formats also provide the ability to access knowledge at the click of your mouse, often for free. See the library at mises.org.

Still, there is something about sitting down with a good cup of coffee, reaching for that book, even caressing it, before cracking it open to explore the world inside it's covers.