The Parable of the Rainstorm Outside the Library

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, as the Internet becomes ubiquitous, what happens to public libraries?”

Josh spoke thus:

A student was sitting at a library table, listening to a rainstorm outside.  It was the season’s first thunderstorm.  It was the library’s last thunderstorm.

Long ago, the student had learned the trick of counting the interval between the flash of the lightning and the rumble of the thunder.  In theory, every second of interval signified a mile’s distance away.  The student knew that the trick was based on the difference between the speed of light and the speed of sound, but the student didn’t know how accurate the trick was.  The student supposed that somewhere in this library was the answer. 

The student also knew that the trick was accurate enough to give a child frightened by the storm an activity to ease that child’s mind, a counting game that provided an illusion of predictability, and hence of control.  The student supposed the predictability part was spot on but was sure the control part was equally not spot on.  Somewhere on the Internet, the student knew, were numerous web pages dedicated to predicting weather and giving tips like the lightning trick.

The student looked at the library table.  There was a small stack of books from which the student was extracting information for a research paper.  Next to the stack of books was the student’s laptop computer.  On the laptop’s screen was a collection of ebooks the student had gathered to supplement the stack of books on the library table.  Next to the laptop computer was the student’s smartphone.  The student’s smartphone was there because the student was uncomfortable without its connection to the student’s social network.  Also, the student could use the smartphone in a pinch to search the Internet, because the library’s wi-fi was unreliable.  There were no plans to upgrade the library’s wi-fi, what with the library’s imminent closing.

The student smelled the rainstorm outside and counted four seconds between lightning and thunder.  The student smelled the books in the stack on the library table and listened to the librarian inform the patrons that the library would be closing in fifteen minutes.  

The student pondered the thousands of years public libraries had served various populations.  Public libraries were an indicator of a sophisticated civilization.

The student pondered the decades the Internet had served the student’s generation.  The Internet was a vast library serving an entire planet.  The student wondered whether this signified a sophisticated planet.

The student’s smartphone made a chiming sound.  The student’s friend had forwarded a zombie cat meme.

The student rose to leave the library one final time.  The student was reluctant to leave the stack of books behind.  The student was more reluctant to face the inevitable sequel to the zombie cat meme.

“How did zombie cat memes get old so fast?” the student asked the librarian while exiting the library.

“Zombie cat memes don’t have the staying power libraries have,” the librarian said.

The student corrected the librarian. “The staying power that libraries used to have.”

The student counted ten seconds between lightning and thunder.