Illustration of hands on a laptop keyboard from above alongside an icon of book sharing

When We Invest in New York’s Libraries, We Invest in New Yorkers, Too

Imagine proposing this today: spaces across the city where anyone, regardless of income, housing status, or documentation, can freely access millions of dollars’ worth of books, computers, and resources. No purchase required. No ID checks. No surveillance cameras. In our era of privatized spaces and eroded trust, such an idea would be dismissed as radical, even dangerous. Yet this is exactly what public libraries have done for over a century.  

As I sit on the second floor of Morningside Library, watching my new friend Ana shyly consult her translation app for the English word for her crayon color, I’m struck by how revolutionary this scene truly is. Two hours ago, she stood lost at the doorway; now she's teaching me Portuguese words for rainbow (Arco-íris) while a toddler dances to Motown and an elderly neighbor browses newspapers in peaceful repose. No one is asked to buy anything or justify their presence. This profound experiment in public trust continues across the New York Public Library's (NYPL) 92 branches—at least for now.

However, this radical institution is facing a crisis. As NYPL President Anthony W. Marx stated earlier this year, “Libraries are less than half of one percent of the total budget, but their value in providing free services, programs, and access to knowledge is unmatched.” While June's restoration of $58.3 million in library funding prevented immediate branch closures, this represents only a temporary solution to a systemic problem of underinvestment. When Sunday service was eliminated in late 2023, the $23.6 million in cuts amounted to a mere 0.021 percent of the city's $110 billion budget—a tiny financial sacrifice for the city with devastating impacts on communities that rely on these spaces seven days a week. This chronic underfunding threatens essential services at a moment when New Yorkers need them most. Our library branches are not just buildings filled with books—they're critical public health infrastructure serving communities where life expectancy can vary by over a decade based on ZIP code.

Consider this: Libraries in the U.S. see more daily visits than physicians' offices. In neighborhoods like Brownsville, Brooklyn, where traditional healthcare resources are scarce, libraries often provide the only reliable access to health information, internet services, and social support. Librarians increasingly find themselves on the front lines of public health crises, administering naloxone, connecting patrons to mental health resources, and providing shelter during climate-related emergencies. These services fulfill the revolutionary vision that sparked the public library movement over a century ago: that a democratic society requires spaces where knowledge, opportunity, and human dignity are treated not as commodities to be sold, but as rights to be freely shared.

Some might argue that libraries are becoming obsolete in our digital age, or that other city services deserve funding priority. However, the data tells a different story. During the pandemic, libraries proved essential in bridging the digital divide, helping residents access vaccine information and schedule appointments. Today, they serve as vital community hubs, addressing diverse public needs, including education and literacy, economic opportunity, and social connection.  These fundamental conditions are recognized as social determinants of health— factors that determine up to 80 percent of health outcomes. Libraries provide free internet access for job seekers, safe spaces for youth after school, language classes for immigrants like Ana, and resources for seniors facing isolation. While establishing direct links between specific library programs and improved health requires more robust data collection and tracking of outcomes, what's clear is that libraries strengthen the fabric of communities by supporting the essential resources people need to thrive, many of which are the very social determinants that influence public health.

The solution is clear: New York must commit to sustained, expanded library funding that matches the scale of community needs. Programs like Pennsylvania's Health Library Initiative demonstrate how libraries can effectively partner with public health agencies to improve community health outcomes while reducing strain on traditional healthcare systems. Here's what adequate funding could achieve:

  1. Expanded hours and staffing to ensure libraries remain accessible
  2. Enhanced health literacy programs and partnerships with local healthcare providers
  3. Improved technology infrastructure to bridge the digital divide
  4. Dedicated social workers and community health workers in high-need branches
  5. Modernized facilities that serve as climate resilience hubs during emergencies

To city council members and the mayor’s office: Your constituents’ health and well-being hang in the balance. Every dollar invested in libraries yields multiple returns in improved health outcomes, reduced healthcare costs, and stronger communities. To public health officials: Libraries are your natural allies in addressing health disparities—embrace them as partners. And to my fellow New Yorkers: I've found my greatest joy as an undergraduate leading arts and crafts at Morningside Library. Join me—urge your council member to support libraries, then step inside your local branch. They need your voice and presence.  

The story of New York’s libraries is, at its core, the story of trust in our shared humanity. When Ana walked into Morningside Library that Tuesday morning, she discovered a place of community, where her desire to learn was met with warmth rather than skepticism. This is the radical promise libraries offer: that we can trust each other to share resources, that public goods are worth investing in, and that everyone deserves access to knowledge. By securing sustained funding for the NYPL, we’re declaring that every New Yorker deserves a place where they can simply be, and where community itself is understood as our most valuable public good.  

Let us choose to invest in each other.