You Can't Run a Library Like a Business

Disclosure: I have worked across library and public-information technology, including OverDrive, collectionHQ, Baker & Taylor, Follett, and Trellis Law. I also hold an MLIS and an MBA. That background shapes how I read library budgets, vendor strategy, digital lending, legal information access, and platform ownership. It does not give me inside knowledge about any current company decisions unless I say so directly. This piece is based on public reporting, public budget documents, union statements, board records, and the sources linked at the end.

The Salt Lake City buyout offer

In May 2026, the Salt Lake City Public Library sent a buyout offer to more than 250 employees.

The offer went to full-time and part-time workers. On paper, it was generous: up to 20 weeks of base pay, payouts for accrued leave, and up to 12 months of continued health insurance for employees who accepted the offer and left by June 27.

The public reason was careful. The library said the buyouts would "minimize the potential need for involuntary layoffs or separations in the future." It also said there were "no near-term plans regarding any layoffs."

At a staff town hall, managers described the goal as a "leaner library staff over time."

That is where the questions begin.

Salt Lake City Public Library was not describing a sudden budget collapse. Recent budget materials did not show a clear staffing emergency. The FY2026 proposed general fund budget was about $43.2 million, up roughly 18.9 percent from the year before. The system is also mostly funded through property taxes.

The offer also came only a few months after library workers won their first union contract, which received final City Council approval in February 2026.

The library said the buyout was about long-term planning and was not related to the union.

That may be true.

But the timing, the language, and the financial picture are still worth examining.

A library with more money than the year before asked its own people to consider leaving.

The math ain't mathin' for me.

Update, July 2026. The library's own board minutes from June 22, five days before the deadline, put numbers on it. Nineteen staff had signed up. The library told its board it is not planning layoffs and has not had an involuntary layoff since 2008.

So this was not an exodus, and it is not a layoff wearing a disguise. Those minutes also record the staff union's Brad Asay as supportive, calling the program a procedural matter rather than something to bargain over. That is the library's account of the union's position and not the union speaking, and a different union rep told the Salt Lake Tribune there was "an element of shock." It still cuts against reading the timing as retaliation, and it belongs here.

Usage is not the same as outcome

Businesses and libraries both use numbers.

The difference is what the numbers are for.

A business often measures usage because usage points toward revenue, growth, retention, market share, or investor value.

A library measures usage too.

Circulation matters. Visits matter. Program attendance matters. Database sessions matter. New library cards matter.

But those numbers are not the mission by themselves.

For a library, usage should help answer a deeper question:

Did this service help people?

That is the difference.

A business may ask: how many people used this, and how does that affect revenue?

A library should ask: how many people used this, who was served, who was missed, and what changed because of it?

That shift matters.

A busy library is not automatically a successful library.

A quiet service is not automatically a failed one.

A program with ten people may matter more than a program with one hundred if those ten people got help they could not find anywhere else.

A database with low usage may still be vital if it supports job seekers, students, small business owners, or people dealing with legal, health, housing, or benefits questions.

Libraries do need data.

But the data has to point toward public value, not just activity.

Why "run it like a business" breaks down

A business can decide that some customers are not profitable.

A public library cannot make that same choice without betraying its purpose.

The unhoused patron still matters.

The child without Wi-Fi at home still matters.

The person who needs an hour of help and checks out nothing still matters.

The senior who comes in for company, warmth, safety, or a familiar face still matters.

A library exists for people whose needs do not always show up as revenue, speed, or volume.

That is why business logic can become dangerous when it enters library planning without being challenged.

If a library only measures transactions, headcount, cost per visit, and cost per use, the deeper outcomes become harder to see.

Once those outcomes become invisible, the people who produce them can start to look like overhead.

That is how "efficiency" turns into fewer public-service workers.

That is how "modernization" becomes a staffing cut.

That is how "doing more with less" becomes less service dressed up as strategy.

Two ways libraries get smaller

There are two main ways libraries get smaller.

The first way is public and direct.

A funder cuts money. A levy fails. A state changes its funding formula. Federal support disappears. A city reduces the library allocation.

The library may fight back. The board may debate it. The public can see the numbers. People can show up and argue.

That kind of cut can be brutal.

But at least the cause is visible.

The second way is quieter.

The library is not forced to cut by a clear outside event. No levy failed. No state pulled a check. No sudden funder demanded a reduction.

Instead, the library chooses to reorganize, shrink, merge roles, offer buyouts, or reduce staff in the name of flexibility, modernization, or long-term planning.

That does not mean every reorganization is wrong.

Libraries do need to change.

But when a library is financially stable and still moves toward fewer public-service workers, the public should ask why.

When cuts are forced

Some library cuts are clearly tied to funding decisions.

In March 2025, Executive Order 14238 ordered the Institute of Museum and Library Services to be eliminated "to the maximum extent of the law." IMLS is the only federal agency dedicated to library funding.

The effects showed up quickly.

The Maine State Library issued layoff notices to 13 employees, about 30 percent of its staff, and cited lost IMLS money directly. Some funding was later restored, and some layoffs were avoided or reversed. But the damage was still serious.

At the state level, Ohio changed how its Public Library Fund works. Instead of receiving a fixed percentage of the state general revenue fund, libraries now receive a flat line item. Reports described this as a roughly $25 million statewide cut from fiscal year 2025 to fiscal year 2026.

Local systems then had to respond.

Dayton Metro Library approved a voluntary retirement incentive because of expected state cuts.

Toledo Lucas County Public Library warned that it might need to eliminate positions because of reduced state funding and an existing deficit. Its board later voted to close the Toledo Heights branch and cut hours at others.

In Wisconsin, La Crosse Public Library faced a budget gap after a reduced city allocation and the end of one-time federal pandemic relief money. It chose to eliminate two vacant full-time positions and move the work around rather than lay off people in filled roles.

These examples are painful.

But they are also clear.

There was a funding loss. There was a public record. There was a decision people could name, question, and challenge.

That matters.

When cuts are chosen

The second pattern is harder to read.

These are cases where library leaders choose restructuring, buyouts, layoffs, or role changes even when the outside pressure is less direct.

That does not mean there is no pressure.

Costs rise. Buildings age. Health insurance gets more expensive. Materials cost more. Technology costs more. Labor costs more. A budget can look healthy in one year and still face risk in future years.

But the choices still matter.

When a library responds by reducing public-service workers while expanding or protecting administrative layers, the public has a right to ask what value system is driving the decision.

Timberland Regional Library

Timberland Regional Library in Washington had a real financial problem.

Public reporting described a multi-year deficit projected at about negative $3.8 million for 2026.

That matters. A real deficit can require real action.

But the staffing choices raised serious questions.

In early 2026, Timberland issued layoff notices to 61 frontline workers, 44 of them involuntary. The union described this as about 38 percent of frontline staff.

During the same period, public reporting described major administrative salary increases and new six-figure administrative roles. The executive director's salary went from $155,000 in 2023 to $206,788 in 2025. A new "Employee Experiences Advisor" position was created in 2025 at $120,376, an administrative coordinator was retitled "Executive Administrator" at $133,760, and a new "Special Projects Coordinator" was added for 2026 at $105,847.

That is the part that deserves scrutiny.

A deficit can explain belt-tightening.

It does not fully explain why frontline workers faced layoffs while executive and administrative roles grew or became more expensive.

The fallout was significant.

The executive director resigned. Former trustees called for an audit. After union pressure, about 80 percent of the involuntary layoffs were rescinded, 36 of the 44.

That reversal mattered.

But the system had already reduced service in other ways, including cuts to the materials budget and changes to branch hours.

The lesson is not that every administrator is bad or every budget cut is false.

The lesson is simpler:

When a library is under financial pressure, boards should watch where the money moves.

Does it protect public service?

Does it protect administration?

Does it reduce access?

Does it reduce the people who make access possible?

Those are governance questions.

Salt Lake City Public Library

Salt Lake City's situation is different.

The library's proposed FY2026 budget was up from the year before. No public source in the record showed a sudden failed levy or direct funding cut forcing immediate staff reductions.

Yet the library offered buyouts to employees and described the goal as a leaner staff over time.

The library also moved toward a more corporate leadership structure, with top roles using "chief" titles.

Titles alone do not prove anything.

Some public systems use executive titles for legal, pay, or government-structure reasons. A title does not automatically lead to layoffs. A chief officer is not the same thing as a service cut.

But language does matter.

When a public library starts using corporate-style language and then asks staff to leave, the public should ask what values are guiding the change.

Salt Lake City's stated vision included serving marginalized and underserved residents. That is important work.

It is also staff-intensive work.

Helping someone apply for benefits takes people.

Helping someone print a resume takes people.

Helping a new parent find early-literacy materials takes people.

Helping a patron navigate health, housing, legal, or technology questions takes people.

You do not usually get more of that work from fewer workers.

That is the concern.

One caution before reading too much into the titles. Salt Lake City's municipal library has had chronic leadership turnover for years, on roughly a three-to-five-year cycle, while the county library next door ran more than two decades under a single director. Some of that is governance design rather than corporate drift. Mayor-appointed systems tend to churn; board-appointed districts tend not to. The instability at this library is older than its current vocabulary, and an honest read has to hold both.

But there is one thing in the record sharper than any title change. The board was not told the buyout was coming. At its June meeting the CEO explained that he had not notified the board in advance because the program was an operational matter, and that a similar program in 2021 had gone to the board president alone rather than to the full board. He said he had underestimated how the decision would land, and committed to give the board more notice on operational matters carrying public exposure.

That is worth more than a complaint about vocabulary. An offer went to more than 250 employees before the people who govern the institution knew it existed. Whatever you make of the buyout itself, the governance question is plain. What counts as an operational matter, who gets to decide that, and how large does a workforce decision have to be before the board hears about it first?

Kitchener Public Library

This pattern is not only American.

Kitchener Public Library in Ontario also went through a major restructuring after hiring a new CEO in 2024.

Public reporting described department changes and concerns from the workers' union. The library said it was not facing budget cuts.

Again, the issue is not that every reorganization is bad.

Libraries need to adapt.

But when a library says it is not facing cuts and still reorganizes in ways that reduce jobs or reshape public-service work, the public should ask what problem is being solved.

A reorganization should answer plain questions.

What is broken?

What evidence shows it?

What alternatives were considered?

Who gains capacity?

Who loses support?

What service gets better?

What service gets worse?

If those answers are not clear, the reorganization deserves more scrutiny.

A wider shift

Three examples do not prove a national trend by themselves.

So I looked more broadly.

I reviewed the forty largest public library systems in the United States by population served. I looked at who led each system in 2005, 2015, and now. I focused on two public facts: what the top job was called, and whether the leader came up through libraries.

The title is useful because it is public and easy to compare.

Some large systems have long used corporate-style titles because of their structure. Independent nonprofits and special districts may use "president," "CEO," or similar titles for legal or administrative reasons.

Those cases should be treated carefully.

The more interesting change is in city and county libraries where the top job used to be called "library director," "city librarian," or "county librarian," and later became "CEO," "president," or another corporate-style title.

By my count, the share of the forty largest systems led by someone with a CEO or president-style title went from three in 2005 to eight today, or one in five.

This is still a minority.

It is not a takeover.

Most large public libraries are still led by people with library backgrounds.

But the direction is worth noticing.

The top library job is becoming more portable and more executive-shaped. More systems are hiring leaders from national pools. More roles are framed like executive posts. More job titles sound like the private sector.

That does not prove bad intent.

But it does show which language and which management models are gaining power.

And language often arrives before policy.

A library does not usually rename its leadership structure on the same day it announces cuts. The title changes, org chart changes, and strategic language often come earlier.

By the time a buyout email arrives, the vocabulary may already be in place.

A corporate title is not a layoff.

But it can tell you which logic has entered the room.

The counterforce is staff

In these stories, the strongest pushback came from workers and their unions.

Salt Lake City workers had recently won their first union contract.

Timberland workers pushed back and helped get most of the involuntary layoffs reversed.

Kitchener workers raised concerns through CUPE Local 331.

That matters.

A strategic plan does not protect public service by itself.

A consultant report does not protect public service by itself.

A board packet does not protect public service by itself.

The people who do the work need a real voice in the decisions that shape the work.

Frontline staff often know the effects of a decision before the dashboard does.

They know when a schedule looks fine on paper but fails in real life.

They know when one less person at the desk means longer waits, worse service, and more stress.

They know when a "small" role change erases years of expertise.

If libraries want to measure outcomes, they need to listen to the workers closest to those outcomes.

A different choice is possible

Not every library responds to pressure by cutting people first.

Spokane Public Library faced financial pressure too. It had a city in deficit and years of flat funding while costs rose.

But public reporting described a different approach.

The library held vacant positions open, shifted hours, used reserves, and cut a streaming vendor instead of laying off workers.

That does not mean Spokane solved everything.

Its leaders warned that future funding problems could still force layoffs.

But the choice matters.

Faced with pressure, the system treated staff as central to service, not as the first place to cut.

That is the difference.

A library can face real financial limits and still choose to protect the people who make the library work.

What to watch for

You do not have to wait for a buyout email or layoff notice to ask questions.

The signs often appear earlier.

1. Corporate titles without a clear public reason

A public library may have legal or government reasons for certain titles.

But if a simple leadership structure turns into a C-suite, the board should explain why.

What problem does the new structure solve? How does it improve public service? Does it add cost? Does it move money away from frontline work?

2. Vague change language

Words like "modernize," "streamline," "right-size," "flexibility," and "transformation" are not automatically bad.

But they are not answers.

Ask what they mean in plain language. What gets smaller? Who changes jobs? What service changes? What is the evidence?

3. Administration growing while public service shrinks

Watch both headcount and salary.

If public-service roles are cut while administrative roles grow, the board should ask why.

Money rarely just disappears.

Often, it moves.

4. Specialized roles becoming vague generalist roles

A children's specialist, cataloger, outreach worker, or technology trainer holds real expertise.

If those roles are merged into broad generalist positions, something may be lost.

The question is not only whether work still gets done.

The question is whether the quality and depth of service changes.

5. Reorganization without a clear outside cause

If no funder cut money, no levy failed, and no crisis is visible, then the reason for a restructuring should be very clear.

If the restructuring is the answer, the public should know the problem.

6. Buyouts framed only as opportunity

A buyout may be more humane than a forced layoff.

But it is still a signal that the library wants fewer workers.

The board should ask what services will change if experienced staff leave.

7. Data that measures activity but not outcomes

A dashboard can count visits, checkouts, and program attendance.

That is useful.

But if the dashboard cannot show who was helped, what changed, and where service gaps remain, it is not enough.

Activity is not the same as impact.

What boards should ask

Library boards do not need to reject business tools.

They need to aim those tools at library values.

Here are questions every board should be asking:

What outcome are we trying to improve? Name it clearly.
How will this decision affect public service? Do not stop at budget impact.
What happens to frontline staffing? Show the change in headcount, salary, hours, and workload.
What happens to administration? Show the same numbers for leadership and management roles.
What service gets better because of this change? Be specific.
What service gets worse? Be honest.
Who was consulted before this decision? Include frontline staff, union representatives, patrons, and community partners.
What alternatives were considered? A board should not be shown only one path.
What will this look like in three years? Short-term savings can create long-term damage.
Are we protecting access, or only reducing cost?

That last one is the heart of the matter.

These questions are not anti-management.

They are governance.

The point

The point is not that every executive is a villain.

The point is not that every CEO title is dangerous.

The point is not that every buyout is cruel.

The point is not that libraries should ignore financial reality.

Libraries need budgets. They need planning. They need management. They need long-term strategy. They need leaders who can read financial risk before it becomes a crisis.

But libraries are not businesses.

A business can ask how few people it needs to move the product.

A library has to ask how many people it can help, how deeply it can help them, and who is left out when staff are removed.

That is the difference.

The child getting a first library card.

The parent finding board books.

The worker printing a resume after a layoff.

The patron learning how to use a computer.

The person asking for help with housing, benefits, health information, or legal resources.

That is not extra.

That is the work.

Protect the people who make that work happen, and you protect the library.

Sources

Federal and IMLS:

Ohio:

La Crosse:

La Crosse Public Library, budget reduction options

Salt Lake City:

Salt Lake Tribune, SLC library system offers buyouts
Salt Lake City Public Library, FY2026 proposed budget
KSL, Salt Lake City library workers' contract
Salt Lake City Public Library Board minutes, June 22, 2026 (the VSIP sign-up count, the no-involuntary-layoffs-since-2008 statement, and the board-notification exchange)

Timberland:

Kitchener:

Leadership title trend, my own count of the forty largest US systems in 2005, 2015 and now:

AI note

I am not pretending to be a lone genius in a cabin with a fountain pen.

This piece was drafted and revised with AI support. I have used tools like Grammarly for years, and I see this as an extension of that same editing process, just faster and more flexible.

The responsibility is still mine. The judgment is still mine. The claims are still mine. The sources are still mine.

AI can help shape the work, but it does not get to borrow my integrity.