OF ALL the cuts to public services, few have provoked such loud protests as proposals to close libraries. Petitions, vigils and the gnashing of teeth (especially those of Philip Pullman, a fantasy author) have been followed by legal challenges. On November 16th a judge in London ruled against plans to close 21 libraries in Gloucestershire and Somerset. Campaigners in Brent, in north-west London, have taken their fight against closures to the Court of Appeal. And, on November 24th, a select committee of MPs announced an inquiry into library closures.

Local politicians are startled. Keith Mitchell, leader of Oxfordshire county council, which was forced by public pressure to abandon plans to close many libraries, complained that protesters seemed much less upset by cuts to social care and rubbish collection. Visits to libraries have declined by 6.7% in the past five years, according to the Chartered Institute of Public Finance and Accountancy (CIPFA). But this is to underestimate the symbolic role libraries play as a visible public good. A 2010 Ipsos MORI poll found that 69% of people had been to a library in the past year. More than 80% view libraries as “essential” or “very important”.

Since 1964 local authorities have been obliged to provide a “comprehensive and efficient” library service. Yet savings have to be made somewhere. If library closures cause protests, cuts must be done stealthily. So public libraries are experiencing a steady attrition, with councils reducing opening hours and buying fewer books. In the 2010-11 fiscal year libraries acquired 7.4% fewer adult fiction books and 13.7% fewer non-fiction books than they had the year before, according to CIPFA. An older, less appealing stock could speed the decline in library visits.

Yet hard times are also forcing innovations that may help libraries in the long run. In Lewisham, the council has withdrawn funding from five of its 12 libraries. Three are now run by Eco Computer Systems, a social enterprise that has turned the buildings into places where people can borrow books, host events and get some IT training. Each hub is staffed by a full-time librarian and volunteers, and is connected digitally to Lewisham's other libraries. The funding comes mainly from a computer-recycling business based inside. Another Lewisham library is run by Age Exchange, a charity for the elderly.

In a quiet success for David Cameron's “Big Society”, the number of volunteer librarians has risen from 12,708 to 21,642 in the past five years, according to CIPFA. That trend has its critics, especially among professional librarians. But staff account for at least half the cost of running a library. Other savings could probably be made by consolidating back-office functions among England's 151 library authorities, and by making better use of technology. “London has 32 library authorities but just one police authority,” marvels Desmond Clarke, a library campaigner. He believes a new initiative in Westminster to share its library service with two neighbouring authorities would save £1m.

An entirely different option is to pour money into a single edifice in the hope that it will have a benign affect on the neighbourhood. England's most popular library is the Norfolk & Norwich Millennium, a multi-storey space in a sparkly new building with a restaurant and gallery, which lured nearly 1.5m people last year. As the anchor of the development, the library attracts users who then linger and spend money nearby. Birmingham is building a new £188.8m library, the flagship of a development in the city centre that is due to open in 2013. Many of the city's other 39 libraries could face cuts in service, including shorter opening hours and fewer staff.

On a smaller scale, the borough of Hillingdon in London is in the middle of a £4m plan to rebuild or refurbish all 17 of its libraries within six years. By cutting management costs and installing Starbucks cafés, the council has been able to invest more in buying books and new computers, and visits have risen. Libraries are not dead—just a little dusty.