Editorial
Shelf life
To throw money into revamping the National Library is an unnecessary extravagance.
Something strange is afoot at one of our admirably solid public institutions. The National Library of New Zealand seems to have been stricken with a midlife crisis that, if unchecked, will lead to wild spending and erratic behaviour, with no sound case yet being made for any changes.
Last year, an election year, the outgoing Government promised $70 million for a massive redevelopment of the library’s Molesworth St building, near Parliament.
The reasons given for turning an adequate if deteriorating 22-year-old building into a five-floor glass atrium did not ring true then. A year on, and with the Great Recession under way, the proposal seems even more of a monstrous extravagance.
The library has said it will run out of room for its own collections and those of the Alexander Turnbull Library by next year. If that is true, to complete by next year the grandiose plans that have been proposed by the library is akin to China preparing for the Beijing Olympics. The reality is, even if the project gets the go-ahead, it will not be finished next year.
The library will simply have to make do with the resources it has – which include storage space offsite that could be expanded if necessary, from where items could be called back for researchers on a one-or-two-day turnaround.
The main argument in support of redevelopment is that the library’s governing legislation requires it to make its documents “accessible for all the people of New Zealand, in a manner consistent with their status as documentary heritage and taonga”. Accessibility is one thing, but the claim by chief librarian Penny Carnaby to a parliamentary select committee that the National Library could rival Te Papa for visitor numbers is something quite different.
That being a tourist attraction has become a leading ambition for the National Library is both alarming and bizarre. As former Alexander Turnbull librarian Jim Traue recently pointed out, the library’s role has never been that of a street-front library, but as a national backstop for the whole library system. It is equivalent to the Reserve Bank, as opposed to a retail bank touting for customers.
It is desirable that the library’s collections be made accessible to all New Zealanders. But “accessible” does not require the whole ground floor to be turned into a digital penny arcade with banks of high-tech equipment, a Kids’ Zone and al-Jazeera flashing, housed in a contemporary architectural extravaganza.
The idea of Disneyland on Molesworth St is pure folly. The library’s senior management have failed to grasp that the whole point of the digital age is it happens on a screen in someone’s home on their laptop. Google and Facebook need no buildings or buses of tourists to draw people into their world.
Misguided extravagance is only the half of it. The National Library has failed to provide convincing assurances that the plans will not compromise its core function as an intellectual storehouse for researchers and historians.
They worry – with good cause – that the overriding emphasis on feel-good interactive spaces will lead to a downgrading of research facilities. The Professional Historians’ Association has spoken of its alarm about lack of information on the detail of the proposals, and lack of consultation. Researchers are simply not convinced by Alexander Turnbull chief librarian Chris Szekely’s claim that facilities will be considerably upgraded and expanded.
By all means, throw open the digital doors to the library. But instead of spending up large on concrete and glass, the library should invest in expanding and enhancing its online presence. Currently, only a small fraction of the library’s collections are available online, in the excellent Timeframes and Papers Past services.
The National Government has made less than enthusiastic noises about the proposal. It should ask for an independent assessment, including whether it would represent value for money, and whether it is the best way to meet the library’s primary purpose.
If the redevelopment goes ahead as currently proposed, it will not be the blueprint for the protection and enhancement of New Zealand’s documented heritage. Rather, it will stand proud as a monument to an era of spending decisions made with a cavalier disregard for the people who pay the bill.
