A curious trend once gripped Australian libraries and it was concerned with matters of the dark arts. “If you were wanting to see library books on the occult and witchcraft, they were often missing,” says Cameron Morley. “Were people who were really into that sort of thing taking the books? Or were fundamentalist Christians taking the books because they didn’t want them to be available?”
The head of public library services at the State Library of New South Wales is today no closer to finding an answer than he was when the thievery was at its height in the 1990s. In any case, it is hard to know whether the books were stolen or lost – and his observation, though widely held, is anecdotal.
Few, if any, libraries truly know how many books are actually stolen. Lost library books are a small part of the natural attrition of library collections – normal wear and tear is expected and some are fatally damaged. But while we’ve all lost a library book in our time, Morley estimates fewer than 1% of loaned books across NSW public libraries go missing.
In Brisbane, where the city council oversees 33 libraries and a collection of 1.3m items, 29,343 books are considered lost or more than 48 days past their due date. Overdue books, of which there are 31,906, form 2.9% of the libraries’ physical collections.
In Sydney’s Blacktown council, libraries made 1,361,430 loans in 2022-23. The council’s library customer service coordinator, Samantha Cadwallen, can’t put a number on it, but the most “stolen” book is the Bible, she says. Hitler’s Mein Kampf also has a habit of going missing, almost 100 years after it was first published. High school resources are in high demand; a box of 24 Higher School Certificate support books was recently returned to a different council – none were out on loan.
In general, Morley says, many science fiction books – very popular and often published in a series format – are as rare as hen’s teeth. “But whether they’re stolen or they’re out”, he’s not sure. After all, why steal something that’s free?
“I don’t feel like there’s something similar in public libraries as there is with shoplifting – the incentive to steal isn’t there because you can borrow it,” he says. “A certain small amount don’t come back and that’s just the way it is.”
Many libraries no longer charge for overdue items. In Brisbane, a lost book lands the customer with the cost of the book plus a $5 administration fee.
At the time of writing, Melbourne city council’s most popular books were RF Kuang’s Yellowface and Wifedom by Anna Funder. Genre-wise, crime, romance thrillers, travel, business and health nonfiction consistently top its most-borrowed list.
The council has recently had a book returned that was six years overdue. “What happened? Who knows,” says councillor Jamal Hakim, the council’s Creative Melbourne lead.
Rather than being able to define which books go walking, he can tell Guardian Australia which are the most damaged from 900,000 books borrowed and 962,000 visits last financial year.
“Cookbooks always come back with food stains. You can almost smell yesterday’s dinner on them. Art books come back with oils and paint on their pages, and you definitely always know which books are on the curriculum.” And, puppy training books come back with “actual teeth marks” on their covers.
“It brings the ‘puppy ate my homework’ excuse to a whole new level,” he says. Still, he’s happy the collection is being used, or “lived”, as he puts it.
More “sinister” is the trend for a pushback against some sex education books aimed at teens, which Morley has seen growing over the last 12 months.
The titles have been the subject of an organised campaign inciting people around Australia to push for their exclusion from libraries, he says. Librarians, whose job it is to collect widely and without restriction as per commonwealth classifications, are not to respond to that public pressure, he says.
“You wouldn’t think you’d get this in 2023. It has a sinister edge. There’s possibly less tolerance in society,” says Morley.
On safer ground is Bluey – all books related to the Brisbane-based cartoon are a hit in Blacktown, where Colleen Hoover’s It Ends with Us was the top adult title in 2022-23. The most popular factual title was Scott Pape’s The Barefoot Investor.
Given the pressures on household budgets, this chimes with Hakim’s suggestion that the popularity of business books is down to people wanting to understand “the hustle” and how best to value their time and effort.
The cost of living may also be driving a rise in visitor numbers to the city of Perth’s libraries, with the number increasing by 25% this financial year, said a council spokesperson. There, DVDs go missing more than books – and lost items are not recorded by number but in a cumulative dollar amount, which the council did not divulge.
The same changes in demographics, seasons and socioeconomic circumstances that play their part in loan trends also influence the position libraries hold in communities. Where they used to be a place for reading material, they are now home to webcams, microphones, synthesisers, gaming accessories, Stem learning kits (“very very cool”, says Hakim) and tools.
“We realise a lot of people are living in small apartments, so people can borrow them and use them,” he says.
Sound studios with recording facilities are popular with podcasters and one artist has used the 3D printer to create an entire body of work, he said. At Melbourne’s new Narrm Ngarrgu library, there is a makers’ space.
Seed libraries are becoming popular – the Eastwood seed library, in Sydney’s Ryde council, opened in October. The free program is intended to encourage home gardening.
“The big change,” Hakim says, “is a lot of use of study space, working areas and people using the library for social services.”
Community centres are increasingly built in to the design of libraries and he has seen homeless people using tools and computers to learn new skills, find a job and secure a home.
“That’s the power of libraries these days.”
