Well, it’s happened. My favorite bookstore has gone out of business.
The Borders chain had been struggling since about 2007 and had already closed some of its stores. After an attempt at restructuring failed, the company announced last week it would be closing its 399 remaining stores. This will put 10,700 people out of work.
This is a big loss for Michigan, where the company has its headquarters. The state already has one of the highest unemployment rates in America.
It’s also a big loss for me, the customer. Borders was always special; I made sure to go there on every trip to the US. Other bookstores still exist, of course — Barnes & Noble being the biggest aside from online seller Amazon.com — but they’re not the same. Borders was not just about books; it was about the things books represent. It was about the joy of reading, and of sharing ideas.
Let me explain.
The personal touch
Barnes & Noble has the atmosphere of a public library. The shelves are tall, dark and close together. The categories aren’t clearly marked, and it feels uncomfortable if someone is browsing the same aisle as you are. As in a library, it’s very quiet. Two well-informed staff members man a prominently placed information desk.
Being in Borders was instead like being in someone’s house. The beige shelves, to the extent possible, were arranged along walls, and were otherwise far apart, so that you had some space behind you. Smaller shelves came up only to just below eye level, so that you could see over them and not feel closed in. Comfortable, upholstered chairs were arranged in a semicircle around a fireplace. Customers could, and sometimes did, talk to each other.
Most importantly, though, I had the distinct feeling that the books had been chosen by somebody — by somebody who actually read books instead of just trying to sell them. This is what I will miss most. On Amazon, a machine recommends books to you. At B&N, the emphasis is on current best sellers. At Borders, old and new were mixed together in a way that fed your intellectual curiosity. You could find something of interest in any section. I often did.
This was also true of its music department, which emphasized its well-stocked selection of classical, jazz and world music, but had every other kind on hand, just in case somebody wanted it.
What happened?
The first change came when a few small shelves of videos — including many well-chosen foreign films — expanded to take over half of the music section, which was, unfortunately, not well-frequented.
The second change came when Borders and Barnes & Noble became more and more alike. All Borders, and many of the larger Barnes & Nobles, had an attached café. B&N began selling CDs and DVDs. The selections became more and more similar, and prices began to play a bigger and bigger role, with B&N generally slightly cheaper. To a lot of customers, that was what mattered most.
The third change came when Barnes & Noble kept up with the times — by setting up an online bookstore — and Borders didn’t (until it was too late).
Borders did do one thing that Barnes & Noble chose not to. It started selling an electronic reading device called the Kindle. Not only is the Kindle made by Amazon; it downloads books from Amazon. The end was in sight.
Why couldn’t Amazon just buy Borders at that point and keep it open? That way, we’d have had the best of both worlds.
