- Why these quiet spaces still matter
There was a time when the future of libraries seemed uncertain.
As the internet placed millions of books, articles, and research papers within easy reach, many wondered whether libraries would slowly become obsolete. Why borrow a book when you could download one, and really, why would one visit a reading room when information appears to be just a Google search away?
Yet years into the digital age, libraries are still here, and in many ways, they have become more relevant than ever.
Far from being left behind by technology, libraries have evolved alongside it. They are no longer simply buildings lined with shelves of books. Today, they are hybrid spaces that combine traditional collections with digital resources, offering everything from e-books and online journals to free internet access, research databases, and collaborative learning spaces. At the same time, they continue to provide something the digital world struggles to replicate, which is a quiet, welcoming place where anyone can read, learn, and think.
That evolution has been driven by necessity. As technology transformed the way people access information, libraries adapted their services to meet changing needs rather than resisting them. University libraries, even across Sri Lanka, now provide students with access to online academic journals, digital archives, and subscription databases that would otherwise cost individuals thousands of rupees.
In many ways, the library has become both a physical and digital gateway to knowledge. But while technology has made information easier to access, it has also created a new problem: there is simply too much information.
Searching online for almost any topic can produce millions of results within seconds. The challenge is no longer finding information but knowing which sources can actually be trusted. In an age where Artificial Intelligence (AI) can generate essays in seconds and misinformation spreads rapidly across social media, libraries continue to offer something invaluable, that is carefully curated, credible information.
Perhaps one of the library’s greatest strengths has little to do with books or technology at all. It is the space itself. For many people, libraries remain one of the few public places where there is no expectation to spend money.
Unlike cafes or co-working spaces, libraries welcome everyone equally. Students preparing for examinations, researchers working on projects, job seekers completing applications, freelancers looking for a quiet desk, and readers escaping the noise of everyday life can all share the same space.
More than a space for books
Speaking to some of our readers, it became clear that this is exactly what libraries have meant to them.
For Waruna Prageeth, the library became essential during his university years. “When I first moved to Colombo, I was living in a boarding house while working and studying at the same time,” he recalled. “Having somewhere quiet to go after work made all the difference.”
Although he regularly visited his university library, he often chose the National Library of Sri Lanka. “It had such a peaceful atmosphere. There wasn’t free Wi-Fi, but I didn’t mind using my phone as a hotspot. It was still much better than trying to study in a noisy boarding house.”
More importantly, it was affordable. “I couldn’t afford to spend evenings working from cafés. Even back then, cafés in Colombo felt expensive and a little exclusive. The library gave me somewhere to focus without expecting me to buy anything.”
His experience highlights something easy to overlook. Libraries do not simply provide books; they provide opportunity.
That sentiment was echoed by Zulfa Ilyas, who said that libraries became the centre of her student life during university. “Other than the cafeteria, the library was really our community hub,” she said. “That’s where we’d meet for study groups, work on assignments, and spend hours preparing for exams.”
Although the internet has made studying more flexible, Zulfa believes physical libraries still serve a purpose that cannot easily be replaced. “Our university library had Wi-Fi. It wasn’t amazing, but it was enough.”
More importantly, she said that libraries offered something increasingly rare. “I love the fact that the physical space of a library gives you somewhere quiet to think. In such a noisy, fast-paced world, those quiet corners are becoming harder to find.”
Even while studying overseas, she found herself naturally gravitating back towards libraries. “It’s not really about the books anymore,” she explained. “It’s about having a place where you can focus.”
Perhaps that is one of the reasons libraries continue to survive despite every prediction of their decline. Their value has never been limited to the collections they house; providing community without commercialisation, they offer learning without expectation.
They have also remained one of the few public spaces where people from different backgrounds, generations, and professions can quietly coexist, united by a shared desire to learn. In an increasingly connected world, that may be more valuable than ever.
Encouraging curiosity and community
For Ayesha Wasim, the value of libraries has only increased in the age of AI and instant information, especially as an educator. “I always encourage my students to visit the library,” she said. “Don’t do everything online. Don’t rely on random internet searches. Go to the library and spend time in the section dedicated to your subject. Libraries do a great job of curating information and resources for you.”
As AI tools become increasingly common in classrooms, Ayesha believes students risk confusing convenience with learning. “It’s often easy to tell when a student has genuinely engaged with the material and when they’ve simply copied something generated online. That’s one of the reasons many institutions are bringing back viva examinations and discussions.”
For her, libraries encourage something technology often struggles to replicate, which is curiosity.
Rather than searching for a single answer, students browsing library shelves often discover books they were not originally looking for. One title leads to another, and another again. It is a slower process, but one that encourages deeper learning.
Libraries also provide an important safeguard against misinformation. The internet offers unlimited information, but very little guidance on what is reliable. Search engines prioritise popularity, algorithms recommend content based on engagement, and AI can generate convincing but inaccurate information within seconds.
Libraries operate differently. Collections are carefully selected, organised, and maintained by trained professionals. Academic texts, historical records, and reference materials are chosen because they meet standards of credibility rather than because they generate clicks.
“In an era of information overload, libraries help people find information they can actually trust,” Ayesha said.
Beyond education, she believes libraries continue to play another important role, especially as community spaces. She recalls regularly visiting the Colombo Public Library and being struck by the variety of people using it. “You’d see schoolchildren, university students, retired people, researchers, and families all sharing the same space.”
The library also regularly hosts exhibitions, lectures, and cultural programmes that bring together people from different generations and backgrounds. “It reminds you that learning isn’t something that only happens in school or university,” she said. “It’s something that continues throughout life.”
Safeguarding collective memory
Libraries are also custodians of history. Every country relies on institutions that preserve its collective memory, safeguarding books, newspapers, manuscripts, photographs, and archives that document how societies have evolved over generations. In many ways, libraries serve the same role as museums, ensuring that future generations have access to the stories, ideas, and knowledge that shaped the past.
Sri Lanka understands that importance perhaps more deeply than most. The burning of the Jaffna Public Library on 31 May 1981 remains one of the country’s greatest cultural tragedies. At the time, it was considered one of Asia’s finest libraries, housing more than 95,000 books, rare manuscripts, newspapers, and irreplaceable palm-leaf texts documenting Tamil history and literature.
Its destruction represented far more than the loss of a building. It was the loss of centuries of knowledge, culture, and identity. Although the library was rebuilt and reopened in 2004, it continues to stand as a reminder that libraries are far more than places to borrow books. They safeguard a nation’s collective memory.
Sri Lanka’s literary tradition stretches back thousands of years, with knowledge preserved in monasteries during the Anuradhapura Kingdom before evolving into the network of public, university, and special libraries that exists today. Institutions such as the National Library and Documentation Services Board, the Colombo Public Library, and university libraries continue that work, preserving historical records while expanding access to modern knowledge.
That ongoing role was highlighted once again this past week when the Special Libraries Group of the Sri Lanka Library Association participated in a discussion aired by the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation about the role of the National Library in developing the country’s library and information sector. The programme explored the importance of information access, library development, professional standards, and public awareness, timely reminders that libraries continue to evolve alongside the communities they serve.
Perhaps the greatest misconception about libraries is that they are competing with technology. They are not.
Libraries continue to help people live beyond technology, the internet, and now AI by providing trusted resources, skilled guidance, and spaces that encourage reflection rather than distraction.
In a world built around endless scrolling, constant notifications, and algorithms competing for our attention, libraries offer something quietly radical, inviting us to slow down and to learn without an agenda.