Walking into Barnes & Noble, a table of shiny hardcovers lure readers in with the smell of fresh paper and flourishing ink — but how many of those books will actually end up in readers’ hands?
The global publishing industry produces millions of dollars worth of books each year. Paper waste makes up 26% of landfill content, with books acting as a significant contribution. Each year, 160,000 truck loads of books are discarded and pulped. That’s 10 million trees cut for no reason.
When books are thrown away, they go through the pulping process. They are shredded, de-inked and turned into cardboard. Almost like a literary slaughterhouse.
Book hauls and unboxing videos flood social media with influencers flaunting stacks of dizzyingly beautiful spines for aesthetic clout. A reader’s version of mounting a stag head, ‘trophy books’ are proof that just because you have a book, doesn’t mean you’ve read it.
Publishers have noticed the draw of a pretty cover. Reprints feature gilded edges, fresh fonts and sprayed spines. Entire series are often repackaged, or books that were just released are reprinted with a more cosmetically appealing cover, contributing greatly to the paper waste.
Lily Kent, a senior studying Creative Writing and bookseller at Barnes & Noble, feels that the glamour of buying books has become more valued than actually reading them.
“Every business’s goal is to stay in business,” Kent said. “They’re just meeting consumer demand. It’s not as much overproduction but overconsumption. People don’t read for the experience anymore. They read because it’s instant gratification.”
However, Boise’s literary scene is growing more sustainable and communal. Waves of independent and secondhand bookstores are redefining what it means to read responsibly and build community while doing it.
A romance-focused bookstore that opened two months ago in Downtown Boise, Hearts on Fire invites readers in with a soft glow and plum-painted, book-lined walls.
The owner, Sami Haroian, believes books are powerful tools in connecting people. Even as her business is just starting out, she’s thinking ahead when it comes to used books.
“Used books are so popular, and for good reason. I want people to have accessibility to books. It’s a way to collaborate with the community and meet new people. Right now I’m selling new… [But] that may be a future thing I incorporate.” Haroian said.
Over in Meridian, Half Price Books is a hallmark for both casual readers and deeply bookish folks. Boise State alumni and booksellers Meredith Brackus and Janea Rozmaryn-Lavendula see firsthand how used books keep physical media in circulation.
“When it comes to books that are unsalvageable, we try to donate them,” said Brackus. “We have a lot of great programs. If a teacher needs books for the classroom, we fill a box. If we can’t give it away, we recycle it.”
“That’s kind of what the store was built on — keeping books out of landfills,” Rozmaryn-Lavendula added.
In an age of digital media, e-books are an ecofriendly option. However, used books provide a unique experience — there’s something special about buying a book someone else already loved.
“People want physical media,” Brackus added. “[They] want the real thing, to be able to hold something. I think physical media is coming back in a big way.”
Still, not every book is created to be something special.
“There was this copy of ‘Onyx Storm’, a Target exclusive, that had illustrated pictures in it,” Brackus said. “It didn’t take long for fans to realize they were stock photos. They got stock photos for one of the biggest names right now in romance — probably one of the biggest names in books, generally. It made so much money. It’s absurd that they couldn’t even hire an artist.”
Used bookstores can function like a rebuttal to this mass-market excess, emphasizing how lending one another stories connects people.
“It’s a community, and I think that’s part of the thing that gives me hope, especially in this day and age,” Rozmaryn-Lavendula said.
Bookstores that re-home used books are part of a literary ecosystem by nurturing community and proving that reading is about connection. A book deserves to be read, not just showcased.
Many of the spines of those resplendent books on display at Barnes & Noble will be uncracked, stories unread, eventually joining the 160,000 truckfuls of books to be shredded and pulped.
Used bookstores prolong the life of a used book — passing them from hand-to-hand, reader-to-reader. They resist the cycle of waste by reminding us what they are for: to be read, shared and reflected upon.
