Young generations have changed their minds about libraries Libraries are the last free spaces in our cities

For years we have thought of libraries as non-places. Spaces somewhat suspended in time, filled with shelves, mandatory silence and that institutional aesthetic that seemed destined to disappear under the blows of streaming, coworking spaces and cafés full of laptops. They were the territory of solitary researchers or the temporary refuge of students during exam season, the ones who arrive with dark circles under their eyes and a pile of notes. Then something curious happened: libraries started to fill up again.

Why are we going back to libraries?

It is not an isolated phenomenon. In many European cities and beyond, more and more young people spend hours inside these spaces: crowded tables, open laptops, study groups. And no, it is not just for the free Wi-Fi. It has more to do with a broader shift in the way we experience cities.

Today almost every urban space requires a transaction. To sit somewhere you have to order a coffee, pay for a ticket, consume something. The library, on the other hand, remains one of the last places where you can simply exist. Walk in, sit down, open a book or a laptop and stay there without anyone asking you for anything. In a city like Milan, where the pace keeps getting faster and every place seems designed to produce something, this has enormous value.

Perhaps that is also why many young people are returning to libraries. Not only to study, but to find a kind of focus that is difficult to achieve elsewhere. It is almost the opposite of the algorithm: no notifications, no endless feed, no constant noise. Just people sitting in the same space, immersed in their own work.

The role of architecture

In recent years, architecture has also helped change the perception of these places. Some contemporary libraries have been designed to be experienced as public spaces, almost like indoor squares. The Oodi Library in Helsinki has become a symbol of this approach: beyond books there are recording studios, creative labs and spaces where people can work or meet. In Denmark, Dokk1 is one of the most visited places in the city, overlooking the harbor and conceived as a true urban hub. Then there is the Tianjin Binhai Library, which went viral for its spectacular architecture, almost more visited as a space than as a library in the traditional sense.

A new form of sociality

But the point is not only design. It is the fact that these places work because they allow a very strange, yet very beautiful form of sociality: the silent one. Dozens of people in the same space, each focused on their own work, yet still part of a small temporary community. And in an era dominated by dating apps, it is even becoming cool to meet someone between the shelves of a library. A glance crossing between two tables, a break in the same aisle, the feeling of recognizing someone after days spent in the same place at the same time.

A place to slow down

There is a library where I spent a lot of time. I wrote and studied there for months, often in the same spot, surrounded by people I did not know but with whom I shared the same silence. That is where I finished writing my first book. When I completed it, it felt natural to leave a copy right there, among those shelves. Not as a symbolic or romantic gesture, but because that book, in a way, was born thanks to that space.

And that is perhaps the reason why libraries are once again full of young people. They are not only places where books are preserved. They are one of the last places in cities where you can slow down enough to study, think, write. Or even just notice who is sitting in front of you.