Accessing the full text of books online is nothing new. One can peruse the digital shelves of such sites as the World Digital Library, the International Children's Digital Library, the University of Pennsylvania's Online Books Pages, or even The New York Public Library, which is working with Google Books to offer a searchable subset of their collection online.

Therein, though, lies the kicker: these so-called digital libraries are incomplete. Though a somewhat quick perusal of the NYPL's online catalog was impressive, the fact that they maintain an "e" catalog separate from the main one tells me their digital collection differs from what you might find by walking into the actual library.

That might be true of the NYPL, but not so for the library of Cushing Academy. You see, Cushing is going digital, all-the-way:

This year, after having amassed a collection of more than 20,000 books, officials at the pristine campus about 90 minutes west of Boston have decided the 144-year-old school no longer needs a traditional library. The academy’s administrators have decided to discard all their books and have given away half of what stocked their sprawling stacks - the classics, novels, poetry, biographies, tomes on every subject from the humanities to the sciences. The future, they believe, is digital.

The school's headmaster, Dr. James Tracy, is leading this effort. Dr. Tracy believes that printed books are "outdated technology, like scrolls before books".

In place of their traditional library, they are spending $500,000 to create an all-new "learning center". Upon entering this new facility, students will no longer see rows and rows of books, but instead will find:

• three large flat-screen TVs that will project data from the Internet (at a cost of $42,000 these are obviously Dallas Cowboys-sized screens)
• special laptop-friendly study carrels (at a cost of $20,000)
• a coffee shop ($50,000) that will include a $12,000 cappuccino machine
• 18 electronic readers ($10,000) made by Amazon.com and Sony

(No, I did not make those dollar figures up)

I'll put aside the discussion of why they're turning hallowed reading ground into a social mecca with televisions and coffee shops to instead focus on the switchover of their printed material to an all digital library. There's no doubt the world is going digital more and more, so it's not surprising to see this happen. Convenience, accessibility, sheer breadth of titles are all good reasons for this. Also, as technology for digital readers continues to evolve, and as the readers themselves become more affordable, we'll continue to see growth in the e-book space. But will we ever reach the point where physical libraries either do not exist or exist exclusively as meeting places for people who share a common desire to learn (while sipping coffee made by a $12,000 cappuccino machine, of course)?

I have to say that personally I really have nothing against an all-digital world. While I continue to read printed books daily, I haven't set foot in a library since I graduated college. In fact, as I was performing some research for this post, I became impressed enough with the NYPL's digital catalog that I might sign up for a library card (or is it library e-card?) as soon as I'm done here. One of the most amazing aspects of this is that I don't live anywhere near New York, nor will I ever have to set foot into their library to take advantage of their catalog.

At some point, I plan to buy a Kindle or similar e-book reader. At that time, I may very well never buy another printed book again. You can bet that as successive generations become more familiar with e-Ink than the kind that comes from a printing press, that the perception of what a book is will change.

So, too, then will libraries.

Amazon's Kindle digital e-book reader has had its share of controversy. The latest, and perhaps biggest misstep, came when they remotely deleted e-books legally purchased by consumers, but which had been illegally made available for sale by an unscrupulous vendor who ignored certain copyright laws.

Ever since Amazon performed that act of deletion, removing such works as 1984 and Animal Farm right from under readers' noses, they have been playing make-up with consumers who, in some cases, have resorted to lawsuits to "ease their pain". Jeff Bezos, CEO of Amazon, even issued an apology.

Now, we've come full circle. Amazon has offered to replace copies of 1984 and Animal Farm at no charge to Kindle consumers. The message was sent in an email, and reads (source here):

"As you were one of the customers impacted by the removal of "Nineteen Eighty-Four" from your Kindle device in July of this year, we would like to offer you the option to have us re-deliver this book to your Kindle along with any annotations you made. You will not be charged for the book."

"This is an apology for the way we previously handled illegally sold copies of 1984 and other novels on Kindle. Our "solution" to the problem was stupid, thoughtless and painfully out of line with our principles. It is wholly self-inflicted, and we deserve the criticism we've received. We will use the scar tissue from this painful mistake to help make better decisions going forward, ones that match our mission."

Also,

Amazon said in an e-mail message to those customers that if they chose to have their digital copies restored, they would be able to see any digital annotations they had made. Those who do not want the books are eligible for an Amazon gift certificate or a check for $30, the company said.

It would seem they're pulling out all the stops, giving consumers enough options that how could anyone not wind up satisfied?

If only it were that simple…

Amazon violated a fundamental right of people who live in a free society when they deleted those e-books. Yobie Benjamin says it best:

In most cases, it would require a government subpoena, grand jury summons or court order to require you to reveal the contents of your device, turn over the contents of your device and/or to delete the contents in the device.

Yet Amazon did so without any of those things. Clearly, they overstepped their bounds. Their attempts to make amends is proof enough of that. But did they go so far as to make the act unredeemable? Have they single-handedly crushed any potential for mass adoption of their Kindle and other similar devices that make use of DRM?

I think if anything good is to come of this it will be the shortening of the lifespan of digital rights management technology. We've already seen this in the music industry, where Amazon—and even Apple now—sell DRM-free MP3's. Amazon has laid bare the true evil of DRM for all to see. 'All', in this case, is the wider audience they are still trying to sell their device to. Sure, the Kindle is doing well, but there's a lot more people without the device than with it. If the device—and e-books as a whole—is to succeed, it needs this mass adoption.

Amazon, I'm afraid, may have cooked this goose a bit too long. It's past done.

As an aside, this post marks my 200th on this blog. It's not my 200th post overall, because I was blogging on another platform before I made the switch to scottmarlowe.com, but I did move over the "best of the best" of those posts onto here, so maybe we can call it my 200th 'good' post. Anyway, thought it was worth mentioning.