Fine-free public libraries

The following is excerpted from a statement by the director of a city public library system, explaining why the library stopped charging overdue fines.

Fines brought in about $180,000 a year, less than one percent of our budget. That is a small loss, and we knew it. What surprised us was what the fines were costing. More than 20,000 cardholders, a quarter of them under eighteen, had cards blocked because they owed more than ten dollars. Many lived in the neighborhoods we most wanted to serve. A ten-dollar fine is an inconvenience to one family and a reason to stay away to another.

Our staff also spent hours every week handling disputes over a few dimes, time that could have gone to story hours and homework help. Going fine-free does not mean we stopped expecting materials back. Items more than a month overdue are billed at their replacement cost, and the bill disappears when the item comes home. Our goal is the books, not the money.

The following is excerpted from a letter to the editor of a local newspaper.

I have paid my share of library fines over the years, and I never once thought it unfair. A library is a shared collection. When I keep a book three weeks late, someone else on the waiting list does without it. The fine reminds me that my choices affect other people.

The library says fines shut people out. Perhaps the answer is to forgive fines for children, or to let people work them off by volunteering, rather than to tell every adult that deadlines are suggestions. My grandchildren learned to return their books on time because a quarter a day meant something to them. I worry about what we teach young people when a public institution decides responsibility is optional.

The following is excerpted from a blog post by an economist who studies incentives.

There is a famous study every library board should know. In 2000, two economists reported on an experiment at day-care centers in Israel. Parents who picked up their children late made teachers stay after closing. When some centers introduced a small fine for lateness, late pickups did not fall. They rose, and they stayed higher even after the fine was removed.

The researchers' explanation was that the fine changed what lateness meant. Before, coming late was a favor asked of a teacher, and parents felt guilty about it. Afterward, it was a service with a price, and many parents decided the price was worth paying.

Small library fines may work the same way. For some patrons, a dime a day is not a deterrent but a fee that makes keeping a book late feel acceptable. For others, it is a debt they cannot pay. In neither case is it doing quite what we imagine.

The following is excerpted from an interview with a high school senior about her own experience, published in a library's newsletter.

In eighth grade I lost a library book. It turned out to be under my brother's bed, and by the time I found it I owed fourteen dollars. My mom said we couldn't pay it that month, so I just stopped going. That was the year I had a big research project and no internet at home. I did the whole thing on my phone.

When I heard the library had gotten rid of fines, I came back mostly to see if it was true. Now I'm there three afternoons a week, using the computers for college applications. I return everything on time, honestly more carefully than before, because the people at the desk know me now.