Amherst Books and Food for Thought are local business. They are owned by people who live in the community and managed to meet the needs of the people of Amherst. These bookstores offer significantly better selections of non-textbooks than the UMass College Store, for example, managed by Follett, one of the major players in the college bookstore industry. While it may seem like a forgone conclusion that in a college town there will always be local bookstores with well-stocked collections invested in the community, this is, in fact, not the case.
I grew up in Oberlin, Ohio, another college town, if on a slightly smaller scale. Oberlin's Co-op Bookstore was founded in 1938 as a local cooperatively owned and run bookstore. Since I was born, the store occupied a spot on College Street, Oberlin's main drag, three blocks from my house. As its building increasingly fell into disrepair in the early 90s, the cooperative decided its most financially sound option was to demolish the standing building and rebuild on the sight, moving to a temporary location for the intervening year.
When the store reopened in 1993, it soon found conditions harsh. The move had cost more than planned, the Internet revolution had taken off, textbook prices had begun to inflate and mega-store Borders had moved in about a half hour's drive away. With these obstacles to its business model, as well as higher mortgage, labor and inventory costs in its larger space, the Co-op's financial outlook soon became bleak. To confront the pending crisis, the bookstore took on a consulting firm. In addition to advising the management, the firm agreed to buy the store's inventory, which it would sell back to the cooperative within five years. The firm, unassociated with the community, proposed new and customer unfriendly changes such as a backpack check and an expensive security system, which made even frequent customers, such as my parents, feel unwelcome. As disagreements with the consultants escalated, the consulting firm obtained a "cease and desist order" on the inventory, forcing the store to close its doors. With no cards left to play, the bookstore sold its building to the college, paid what debts it could and closed its doors.
Since then, Oberlin College has leased one floor of the original store to Barnes & Noble, which now owns and operates a bookstore with the stipulation that all faculty order books through the store. At approximately one-third the size of the original store, and offering none of the congeniality that used to lure patrons of the Co-op back again and again, the store can hardly be said to represent an exemplary instance of market solving. The store's inventory, now dictated by Barnes & Noble on high, contains a selection of America's Best Sellers, including books by some of America's bestselling right-wing pundits. However one feels on the underlying political issue, these books simply don't sell in Oberlin, and probably lead fewer people through the store's doors. The college memorabilia now reflects the same color schemes and selections found at all other Barnes & Noble college stores, with Oberlin sweatshirts now available in virtually every color of the rainbow (the school color is a dark red). The store's involvement in the community also reflects the same amount as other stores: none.
While clearly Oberlin's case presents a couple of specific circumstances that do not immediately present themselves in Amherst, its lesson should not be missed. Local bookstores depend on local business. Students, faculty and townies alike sorely miss the Co-op bookstore in Oberlin. Until the opening of another local bookstore three years ago, students were left with no local options for browsing books, and only one local option to buy textbooks.
If more and more of us buy our books on the internet, enticed by paying less, Amherst too may find itself in a bookstore crisis as the city's three bookstores dwindle. With a Barnes & Noble just up the road, it seems hardly a stretch to say that Barnes & Noble or Follett would not jump at the chance to force the college into an exclusive contract and deal a knockout blow to Food for Thought or Amherst Books. While to those who only purchase textbooks and do so online, this might not strike a chord of distress, anyone who browses at Amherst Books and Barnes & Noble knows that when it comes to buying books that interest the people of Amherst, Amherst Books gets it right and Barnes & Noble will happily sell you the latest Danielle Steele novel.
Beyond the standard arguments for buying local: easy to return purchases, more local jobs, living wages, reinvestment in the community and environmental issues, we should take seriously what having a vibrant downtown means for Amherst. The bookstores provide anchors to this downtown, and their disappearance would undoubtedly signal the demise of downtown, enticing more and more of shoppers to the heinous monstrosity of shopping centers that is Russell Street. While places like half.com and amazon.com might seem appealing for those looking to save a few bucks, I highly encourage you to consider the full impact of your choice: it's not just the difference in price.
There are arguments against buying local. Free Market crusaders will undoubtedly cry 'artificial price inflation' and argue that if buying local were a good idea, the market will reflect it. Those for whom the difference between buying locally and buying used books on the Internet is significant might accuse me of being insensitive to their financial needs. While I am more sympathetic to the latter complaint than the former (after all, the former brought us the Wal-Mart SuperCenter, the end of union jobs and the end of employer-paid health care), I do not believe either invalidates prima fascia the case for buying local, even at higher prices. Especially for those for whom financial hardship does not depend on saving the difference between local prices and Internet prices (and obviously sometimes this is more significant for some than others), I strongly implore you to buy local. It means a lot for our community.
Some details for this piece came from Albert J. McQueen's Brief History of the Oberlin Consumer's Co-operative and its Businesses accessible at: http://www.oberlin.edu/external/EOG/Co-opHistory/Consumers.html
Kornblith can be contacted at rlkornblith@amherst.edu