Think about the last time you needed a book: maybe for school, or work, or simply personal pleasure. Did you borrow it from a library, share it with a friend or immediately buy a new copy online? In a society where knowledge is increasingly treated as a private commodity, these seemingly small decisions quickly add up.
Mass overconsumption pushes us away from shared access and community, and toward individual ownership. As a result, society reframes education as a product instead of a public good. Libraries and other communal resources become undervalued, leaving those who cannot afford to buy a new book or bypass a paywall disadvantaged. How we access books is not just about convenience. Our decisions affect equity and access to education.
Unfortunately, how you get every book you read and review makes a political statement; maybe not for you, but for someone else. To break the cycle that hinders individuals’ accessibility and equity of education for everyone, we need to stop buying new books.
The rapid purchase of new physical books is a symptom of the overconsumption that plagues everyday life.
Beyond just how we consume books, changing our habits is part of a larger, more urgent issue: the erosion of public resources, the weakening of educational equity and the growing belief that knowledge is a privilege rather than a right.
The social decline of libraries only exacerbates this issue. Part of a larger trend of social isolation — similar to how no one goes to church anymore — libraries are no longer a cultural third space or a site of cultural exchange, and with that, the community they provided becomes undervalued and underfunded.
A flywheel is forming, where bad actors are taking advantage of social isolationism and putting public resources under siege. Public libraries in the U.S. are an early victim, with Republican lawmakers slashing funding, forcing closures and imposing book bans as part of a continued effort to dismantle shared public goods.
In states like Florida and Texas, political battles over library collections are restricting access to books, particularly those covering topics on race, gender and history. Lawmakers simultaneously continue to shrink library budgets, limiting their ability to provide free resources to their communities as we pull further into ourselves.
Without free and accessible books, children and adults alike lack the resources to build literacy skills, engage with new ideas and participate fully in society.
For many Americans, access to books is not only a financial issue; it’s a geographical one. Book deserts — areas where printed reading material is scarce or inaccessible — are prevalent in low-income and rural communities. Studies have shown that there are about 13 books per child in high-income neighborhoods, while in high-poverty areas, there is only one book for every 300 children. Furthermore, approximately 45 percent of U.S. children live in neighborhoods lacking public libraries, bookstores and/or homes where books are absent.
The growing expectation that individuals must personally own books instead of sharing them contributes to the privatization of learning. When we neglect shared sources of education, like public libraries, we weaken one of the last truly accessible educational institutions in our society. Public libraries are more than just places to borrow books; they are essential community centers, offering free internet, research assistance and programming for people of all ages. When they disappear, it is the disadvantaged who suffer the most.
Across the 5Cs, we have access to an extensive library and rental system, yet students frequently opt to buy books instead. Beyond mere convenience, this trend in academia reflects a shift where individuals treat knowledge as a personal investment rather than a shared resource. The assumption that students should purchase their own materials reinforces economic inequality, disproportionately affecting those who cannot afford to do so.
If we want to push back against the privatization of knowledge, we need to rethink our habits and advocate for the institutions that make education accessible to all. Before purchasing a book, check if it’s available at a library. Many libraries also offer interlibrary loans and digital borrowing options. Advocate for increased funding, push back against book bans and vote for candidates who prioritize public education.
What most inspired me to write this piece is the initiative my roommate, Molly Chakery PO ’28, took on move-in day, to make the various books we brought from home easily accessible and shareable to the incoming class. Chakery created a spreadsheet for people to “check” books out of, and add their own collection for people to use. The response was a heartwarming wave of positivity: New classmates eagerly knocked on our dorm, excited to share their collections. Not only did the spreadsheet create a list of fantastic book recommendations, but it created a community that was engaged and passionate about the books they were sharing — arguably what the very essence of books should be. While I expect her motivations were rooted more in kindness, she created an avenue for shared education, combating the issues of privatized education and overconsumption head-on, just from a spreadsheet.
I encourage you to do similar things. Whether copying Molly exactly, adding to the spreadsheet yourself, or searching for the shared resources before trying to find a private one, you can personally fight for equal access to education.
Sarah Russo PO ’28 is a PPE major. She loves going to the gym with friends, listening to Tyler Childers and spending her free time in the village.