One of the complaints that we hear about the Duluth Public Library lately is that its space is unsuited for modern library needs. Ever since the consultants reported that the library’s “forest of columns”  were “a major hindrance in library planning, staff sightlines, and flexibility,” the columns, in particular, have been mentioned in the news media and elsewhere as the most obvious example of the library’s glaring inefficiencies. To hear people talk, the mere presence of columns in the library is an insurmountable difficulty that freezes all progress forward.

“Aaaarggh!” we imagine library staff groaning, as they bump into the columns over and over. “How do we get around these things?”
But, yes, sarcastic remarks aside, in some places the columns do interfere with efficient function. In the Green Room in the basement, a column on one side of the conference room blocks the view of the white screen in front. On the top floor, if you’re trying to walk to the lounge area from the stairs, you have to do an awkward zig-zag maneuver where a column meets the stacks and a safety wall. So it’s not an entirely false claim—just a little overblown.

Another complaint that we hear about the library is that it gets too little natural light. Again, not entirely false. The library’s basement level, on Michigan Street, is a dark place that is built into the hillside and overhung by the rest of the library. Many of the library’s book distribution and maintenance functions take place on this level; its conference rooms have no windows.

The top floor, the largest and most immediately recognizable floor of the library, is much brighter. An indirect skylight runs the length of the ceiling; the front of the ore boat, what you might call the prow of the library, facing downtown, has natural light coming in on three sides from the window that curves around the building. It is not the glaring, direct sunlight that people seem to prefer today—like the sun blasting through the glass walls at Essentia’s First Street Clinic. The library’s light is indirect and soothing by design—Modernist Architecture design.

Working with the building instead of dismissing it, I see an opportunity to solve some problems. The top floor could be made even brighter. One reason less light is reaching the floor today is because the stacks are in the way. Arranged from floor to ceiling, at right angles to the windows, the stacks significantly block sunlight from reaching the interior.

As an experiment, imagine that we remove everything from the library’s top floor—stacks, desks, tables, computers, furniture.  We dismantle offices and remove cubicle walls. When we finish with this job and the floor is entirely bare, we will notice, first, that the library is a huge place. One reason it’s so colossal is because there are no structural interior walls breaking up the space: the library is held up by columns.

Second, we will notice that it’s bright. Without stacks or cubicles interfering, natural light enters the building from many places—especially from the front of the ore boat, as I have said. To maximize this effect, I suggest that we have no stacks at all on that end of the floor, and turn that area into a large, open, spacious lounge.
Many favorite library patron activities involve sitting—sitting and reading, sitting and texting, sitting and socializing. Currently, there are corners of the library where people can sit unobserved, which poses some security concerns. A large, bright lounge on the top floor would be popular with patrons and would improve sight lines for the entire floor, enhancing safety.

The remaining stacks we would turn by 90 degrees, so they were parallel with Superior Street, rather than at right angles to it. We would cut their height by a third, further enhancing natural daylight penetration and sight lines on the floor. The lower stacks would make the room feel more spacious and inviting, as patrons would be able to see from one side of the room to the other.

We will have the space to do all this in our homemade library of the future because we intend to reduce its book collection. By a third, if we can. The eliminated books wouldn’t be gone; they’d still be available in digital formats. People could access them online, from a library computer or from home.

Weeding the collection can be a shocking suggestion to people who love traditional libraries, but it’s the way of the future. Library patrons already have access to more information online than you could hope to fit in a library of bound books. As more and more content moves online, and more and more users move online, the library’s book collection will become less important. The consultants talked about the possibility of reducing the collection, saying that a smaller core of books could actually lead to higher circulation rates.

To my mind, the library of the future will need more space for more computer stations, and the electrical and physical infrastructure to support that. I’d say that Duluth’s library of the future needs at least three times the current number of kids’ computers that it has now, and twice the number of adult work stations. And who knows? In the library of the future, “computer” itself may become an outdated term. At the rate technology is changing, we might be using magnetic mind-meld stations to troll the internet a decade from now. Whatever the technology becomes, it seems pretty likely that stations will be a part of it. And the biggest thing we need for that is space.

One nice thing about computer stations is you can put them anywhere. People who are using computers are absorbed with the screen. They don’t care as much about the aesthetics of their surroundings. The kids I’ve watched playing on the library computers certainly don’t. They could be in a broom closet for all they care. So we’ll put the computers in the basement—kids’ computers on one side, adult computers on the other.  We’ll install some quality lighting to keep everybody happy. And all of the library employees who are currently stuck down there doing dungeon work will be assigned to much brighter workspaces on the first floor, which should help morale.

Speaking of the first floor and offices, well, that would be a good place for them. I think…well, I don’t want to talk your ear off. I just wanted to offer a few ideas from the perspective of somebody who has spent a lot of time poking around the library over the last few months. At consultants’ rates, I’ve already made about $10,000 worth of suggestions.

I’m not sure the future is something we can plan for. All we can do is give it space. And the current library has plenty of space to give.

County commissioners boast about lack of intelligence

The St. Louis County commission meeting of May 5, 2015, concerning county land sales, was a complicated legislative affair, with many plot twists, red herrings and surprise developments, but we won’t go into those here. One strange sideshow to the whole affair was the competition that took place between Keith Nelson and Tom Rukavina for the title of dumbest commissioner.

Commissioner Nelson started the contest off. “If we’re prepared to disrupt this sale to these adjacent landowners, then make this change,” he said. “Because it will absolutely disrupt this legislation. I’m not anywhere near as experienced or smart as Commissioner Rukavina, but I will tell you that […]I am absolutely intent on going down to make certain that everyone on both sides of that legislative body understands the ramifications of this request.”

Commissioner Rukavina wasn’t about to take the accusation of intelligence lying down.  A few minutes later, responding to Commissioner Nelson, he said, “And by the way, you know, I’ll admit in front of the whole room that you probably are smarter than me. I don’t know what my IQ is, but sometimes I think I’m a dummy.”

Commissioner Nelson came back swinging. “I’m not willing to throw out my morals, my ethics, just to get this done. The game here is we’re gonna push this beyond our legislative session, so that this passes, and then the game changes. Okay? I already stated I’m not anywhere near as smart as Commissioner Rukavina, but I’m smarter than that. They’re changing the game.”
Rukavina continued to deny having any intelligence. “County Attorney Rubin could comment on that, but when they say ‘may’ instead of ‘shall,’ that gives the authority back to the county board to decide what’s going to be put on an auction or not put on an auction. And that’s my experience, but, like I said, I’m not the brightest bulb up here.”


It was a hard-fought battle, but at the end of the meeting Commissioner Rukavina portrayed himself as so utterly lacking in smarts that he won the competition. “Mr. Chair, if I could, to that point. Commissioner Nelson, you just proved you’re smarter than me. That’s a good compromise. You just showed I’m a dummy and you’re a genius.”