Contributing to emancipation and self-transcendence

There are talks within the library world about the significance of democratic citizenship. These conversations prove to be rather difficult, which is quite understandable: people have been talking for centuries about what the term citizenship means. This article consequently seeks to provide more clarity. It also offers deepening by connecting citizenship to fundamental layers of meaning and meaning.

Public libraries borrow books, but also discuss their broader role in society. As public places, branches have an important social function of meeting, connection and conversation. Therefore, libraries explore what promoting democratic citizenship means to them. The central library in Utrecht now houses a House of Active Citizenship: "a place for people who turn to others and work for the viability of their neighbourhood, neighbourhood or city."[1] But similar initiatives are also emerging elsewhere in the country. In Eindhoven, for example, so-called "librarians" were set up: "an attractive and accessible place for all residents," where they can work on "personal development," do "surprising things" and have "surprising encounters."[2] Today, the strengthening of citizenship and democracy is even a formal task laid down in the library agreement 2024-2027. In support of this mission, the Democratic Code offers a nice list of values (including inclusiveness, impartiality and openness) and convenient code of conduct (which is accepted and not accepted) to support meeting and exchange in the library.

At the same time, neither the covenant nor the Code provide a clear definition of what democratic citizenship means. That's not so strange in itself. Citizenship is, by its nature, a controversial concept that is understood differently in different social and historical contexts. Philosophers and politicians have been debating it for centuries, if not millennia. In the classic definition of Aristotle (384-322 BC), a citizen is "someone who rules and is ruled." He points to an ethos, a moral attitude, aimed at devotion to the general interest. In his view, participation enables citizens to excel in virtues, such as self-control, courage and well-being, which support the "good" . Also stand in the ancient Roman world virtu (goods) central, but they add more explicit rights and obligations. So we can conclude that citizenship has both a moral and a legal component. Both elements are still recognised in the aforementioned Democratic Code in which (moral) values and (legal) rules are central.

Much has changed in thinking and speaking about citizenship. A great limitation to our modern times is that Aristotle allowed only men of a certain wealth to participate in public life. This has to do with the fact that having a lot of property would help these men to transcend their own interests. Women, but also less fortified men and slaves, were therefore not on the radar of the philosopher. Of course, there is a lot to change about his elitist reasoning. Under the influence of Christianity, citizenship has evolved into a concept that belongs to everyone. Citizenship gained a universal meaning, which later in time also resounds in the creed "freedom, equality and brotherhood" (or sisterhood) of the French Revolution. In practice, the introduction of universal suffrage has lasted until 1919 and its discussions on "who belongs to it" and "what is a good citizen" have still not come to fruition. Some thinkers even deny the existence of shared citizenship and see only consumers, as self-reliant individuals, and producers of goods and services. That denial offers little inspiration for creating a Togetherexperience and public spaces where people can investigate and discuss matters that concern them all.

Participation ladder

In an essay by BISC, Utrecht's provincial support institution, Kiza Magendane and Bram Eidhof explain the relationship between libraries and citizenship as follows: "in the notion democratic citizenship The idea is that it's good for everyone to know how we're together to solve our common problems." This includes specific skills: collect information and gain knowledge, express a position and find solutions. These skills are important in times of fake news, social segregation and dormant discontent about, for example, the quality of (national) politicians and social polarization. The public library offers a unique place, where people not only borrow books or read the newspaper, but also visit activities, learn something interesting, gain support and exercise citizenship by listening to others and forming their own judgment within a cacaphony of ideas, beliefs and interests.

What do forms of democratic citizenship then look like in practice in the library? This question is difficult to answer clearly because of the great autonomy of libraries in shaping their own programmes. To give a generic picture, the metaphor of a "participation ladder" is useful to show at which levels people can contribute to the development of democratic citizenship. To give some examples within libraries: As a matter of fact, these include "information" (on new collections), "consultation" (of people about their local needs), "advising" (on secure internet usage), "co-production" (of activities with citizens and professional partners), "decide" (of citizens on the programme to be formed) and "self-government" (when volunteers start running a library together). As Magendane and Eidhof write, "participants" deserve specific investments in unusal suspects, including (young) people with a language disadvantage and/or migration background. Higher educated and usually older people know how to find their way to the library in general.

Deeper layers

Magendane and Eidhof rightly note that libraries, as public spaces, offer a place to significant meetings, with all possible frictions associated with them. People must be challenged to step out of their own bubbles and to be open to other opinions and viewpoints. Thus, meaning gives shape to who we as humans are. This is a valuable insight into times of spreadsheets and impact analyses. The number of visitors entering, the books that are loaned (online) and the amount of activities organised can be easily counted and measured. These quantitative quantities are indeed saying something about what libraries contribute to democratic citizenship. Yet citizenship is also an end in itself: making contributions to the public domain, even if someone only connects passively, has intrinsic value. Joining society allows people to flourish.

This valuable feeling of being part of a local community touches deeper layers of "sentence in society," both conceived as something that is fun and meaningful to do, as giving existential meaning. However, giving and experiencing is not reflected in talks and notations about democratic citizenship within the library world. This has to do with the fact that meaning is just as difficult, if not more difficult, reachable than citizenship. Of course, people never literally "do" citizenship and "give meaning to everyday life" when they visit the library. Both come from their visit in a more natural and playful way. Libraries are not just local book collections; They also give a stage to people of all kinds of plumage to give to society with each other. That ideal is closely linked to Aristotle's old idea of a agora (place or marketplace) where people meet, get ideas, share wisdom and get inspiration. Or imagine something else: libraries have become a modern-day version of old-fashioned "grandfathers," shared sources that are collective and that everyone can use. There people find what they have "common" and where they gain meaningful experiences, they get a sense of coherence, direction and well-being.

Thus the dream of Henri Ekhard Greve comes true. At the end of the nineteenth century, he advocated the establishment of "public reading museums" to serve individual Bildung, self-development and emancipation, and reducing differences in development opportunities among groups of people. His social-pedagogical motive that makes humanist claims to "humanity" is still a normative cornerstone of the library. Philosophically speaking, you could see library as spaces of mind and of a democratic attitude that pertains to larger (life) questions about meaning and meaning. This applies to visitors, but also to professionals and volunteers who go to schools, take books to an old woman nearby, listen to people and integrate their views into their own minds, start a club against loneliness, etc. In short, bibs contribute to emancipation and self-transcendence. This last tricky word refers to the "exceeding yourself and your own interests" to contribute to "the whole" of society. This is also closely linked to democratic citizenship. Something like that sounds big, but starts small at a reading table, during a reading morning or in the language cafe. There people see and hear each other, they learn something, they grow confidence and germinate seeds that make them tune to the other.