I’m Not Deleting or Discontinuing Use of the Libby App and Here’s Why

The book community is buzzing with calls to boycott Libby after their recent announcement about AI-generated content. While I understand the frustration, I’m choosing a different path—and I hope you’ll consider joining me.

What’s Happening with Libby and AI?

On January 12, Libby posted their stance on AI across their platforms. In essence, they’re not excluding AI-generated titles from their catalog. Instead, they’re asking publishers to self-identify AI content and allowing individual libraries to decide what materials to offer their patrons.

Their position? “Libby’s role is to support choice by ensuring options are available and empowering libraries to serve their patrons.”

The book community’s response was swift and passionate. Comments flooded their Instagram:

• “This is simply disrespectful to the talented and hardworking librarians you claim to support”
• “I’m going to delete Libby today”
• “This is beyond disappointing”
• “NO AI”

I get it. As someone who deeply values authors, authentic storytelling, and the craft of writing, I share concerns about AI-generated content flooding the literary landscape. The fear that publishers won’t properly identify AI-generated materials is legitimate. The concern that this could devalue human creativity is real. But our response needs to be strategic, not reactive.

Understanding What Libby Actually Is

Before we talk about boycotts, we need to understand what Libby actually is and what it isn’t.

Libby is a free app developed by OverDrive that allows library cardholders to access ebooks, audiobooks, and magazines from their library’s digital collection. You can stream titles with WiFi or mobile data, or download them for offline reading. All you need is a library card.

Here’s the crucial part: Libby is not a publisher. Libby is not a bookstore. Libby is a technology platform that connects you to your library’s collection.

Think of Libby as the digital equivalent of your library’s physical building. Just as your library building houses books that various publishers produce, Libby houses digital content that publishers produce and libraries purchase. Libby doesn’t decide what gets published any more than the physical walls of your library building decide what books exist in the world.

OverDrive, the company behind Libby, has been serving libraries since 1986. They created Libby specifically to make digital borrowing easier and more intuitive than their previous app. Their entire business model is built on serving libraries—not publishers, not authors, but libraries and their patrons.

The Library-Libby Relationship: Why It Matters

Libraries don’t just casually use Libby—many have become deeply dependent on it for serving their communities in the digital age.

Over the past decade, patron demand for digital content has skyrocketed. People want to read on their devices. They want instant access. They want to borrow audiobooks for their commute. They want large-print options without the stigma. They want to access materials at 2 AM when the physical library is closed.

Libby (and OverDrive’s broader platform) has become the primary way most public libraries meet this demand. According to industry data, OverDrive serves over 94% of public libraries in North America. That’s not because libraries lack choices—it’s because OverDrive/Libby has spent decades building infrastructure, negotiating with publishers, and creating a system that actually works for library workflows.

Libraries have invested enormous resources into building their Libby collections. They’ve spent years curating titles, negotiating budgets, training staff, and educating patrons. They’ve marketed Libby to their communities. They’ve built entire programming around digital literacy using Libby as the platform.

Switching platforms isn’t like switching from one streaming service to another. Libraries can’t just move their collections to a different app. They’d have to rebuild from scratch, renegotiate publisher contracts, retrain staff and patrons, and potentially lose access to titles altogether during the transition.

How Library Digital Lending Actually Works

While Libby is free for you and me to use, it’s definitely not free for libraries. Understanding the economics helps clarify why a boycott would be so damaging.

Libraries purchase digital content through licensing models, typically one of these:

• Time-based licenses: Access for 24 months, regardless of how many times it’s borrowed
• Checkout-based licenses: A set number of checkouts (often 26 or 52) before the library must repurchase
• Pay-per-use: Libraries pay each time a patron borrows the title
• Simultaneous use licenses: Multiple patrons can borrow the same title at once (most expensive option)

Here’s where it gets painful: digital books often cost libraries significantly MORE than physical copies. A hardcover bestseller might cost your library $18. The same title in ebook format? Often $55-80 for a 2-year license or 26 checkouts. After that, the library has to buy it again.

Why so expensive? Publishers argue that since one digital copy can circulate forever without wear and tear, they need to recoup what they’d make on multiple physical sales. Whether you agree with this logic or not, it’s the reality libraries face.

According to NPR’s investigation “E-Books are Expensive for Libraries,” some publishers have made library ebook lending even more restrictive in recent years. Some won’t sell to libraries at all. Others impose embargo periods where libraries can’t access new releases for months after publication. Others charge exponentially more for library licenses than for consumer purchases.

Libraries navigate this expensive, complicated landscape to provide free digital access to their communities. They’re already stretched thin. They’re already making hard choices about which titles they can afford.

The Funding Reality: How Boycotts Backfire

Here’s the dangerous cycle a boycott creates:

Libraries receive funding from multiple sources—local taxes, state funding, federal grants, and increasingly, performance-based allocations. While your local library won’t disappear if you stop using Libby, the metrics absolutely matter.

Many library systems must justify their budgets by demonstrating usage and community value. When librarians go before city councils or county boards asking for funding, they bring data: circulation numbers, program attendance, digital checkouts, patron counts, and community impact statistics.

Circulation numbers include both physical and digital checkouts. If digital circulation drops dramatically, it doesn’t just affect the digital budget line—it affects the library’s overall usage statistics. Lower overall usage can be used to justify cutting the entire library budget.

Here’s what happens in the funding cycle:

1. Library usage (including digital) demonstrates community need and value
2. Strong usage statistics help libraries maintain or increase funding
3. Adequate funding allows libraries to purchase materials, maintain facilities, and employ staff
4. Staff can then curate collections, run programs, and serve the community
5. Good service increases usage, and the positive cycle continues

A boycott reverses this cycle:

1. Digital usage drops significantly
2. Overall library statistics decline
3. Budget justification becomes harder
4. Funding gets cut or remains stagnant
5. Libraries must make difficult choices: reduce hours, cut staff, eliminate programs, or reduce collection budgets
6. Reduced services mean fewer people use the library
7. The death spiral accelerates

We’re already seeing library systems across the country facing budget crises. The current political climate has made things worse, with book banning efforts, challenges to library funding, and attacks on librarians themselves becoming increasingly common.

This is precisely the wrong moment to voluntarily reduce library usage statistics.

The Accessibility Crisis We Could Create

Beyond funding, there’s a critical accessibility issue that often gets overlooked in boycott discussions.

Libby provides essential access to people who cannot easily use physical libraries:

• People with mobility disabilities who cannot physically travel to library buildings
• People with visual impairments who rely on audiobooks or adjustable text sizes
• People in rural areas where the nearest library might be an hour away
• People without reliable transportation
• People with anxiety disorders who find public spaces challenging
• People who work non-traditional hours when libraries are closed
• People who are homebound due to illness or caregiving responsibilities
• Elderly individuals for whom travel has become difficult

The Americans with Disabilities Act requires public entities to provide equal access to programs and services. Libraries take this seriously. Digital access through platforms like Libby is often how they meet accessibility requirements for many patrons.

If we collectively reduce Libby usage, we’re not making a statement to a faceless corporation—we’re potentially reducing library statistics that justify accessibility programs. We could inadvertently harm the exact vulnerable populations libraries work hardest to serve.

Worse, if reduced usage leads to budget cuts, accessibility services are often first on the chopping block because they serve smaller percentages of the total patron base. The “efficiency” argument gets used to cut services for disabled patrons, homebound services, and digital access programs.

The unintended consequences could range from reduced service quality to potential legal challenges against libraries for failing to meet accessibility standards—challenges that cash-strapped libraries can’t afford to defend.

What Libby’s Statement Actually Says (And Doesn’t Say)

Let’s look more carefully at what Libby actually said in their statement, because I think there’s been some misinterpretation.

Libby stated they won’t exclude titles with AI tools from the catalog and that they ask publishers to self-identify AI content. They emphasized their role is “to support choice by ensuring options are available and empowering libraries to serve their patrons.”

What this means: Libby is maintaining a neutral platform position. They’re not promoting AI content. They’re not endorsing it. They’re saying that if a library chooses to purchase AI-generated materials for their collection, Libby will make those materials accessible through their app, just as they would any other content the library purchases.

What this doesn’t mean: It doesn’t mean Libby is flooding libraries with AI content. It doesn’t mean libraries have to buy AI-generated books. It doesn’t mean AI content will be indistinguishable from human-created content.

The decision of whether to purchase and offer AI-generated materials sits squarely with individual libraries and their communities. This is actually consistent with fundamental library principles—libraries curate collections based on their community’s needs, and different communities have different needs and values.

Some libraries might choose to purchase AI-generated language learning materials if they serve communities with limited English proficiency. Some might purchase AI-assisted scientific databases. Some might purchase nothing that involved AI. That’s their choice to make, based on their community and their professional judgment.

Libby also mentioned they’re asking publishers to self-identify AI content. Yes, this relies on publisher honesty—a legitimate concern. But this approach is similar to how libraries currently handle other content disclosures. Publishers are supposed to accurately describe their books’ content, age-appropriateness, and other characteristics. Do they always? No. But the solution to inadequate disclosure isn’t to eliminate the platform that hosts the content.

The Environmental Argument: Separating Fact from Fiction

One argument circulating in boycott discussions involves AI’s environmental impact, particularly water usage. While environmental concerns about AI are legitimate, there’s considerable misinformation that needs addressing.

The viral claims about AI’s water consumption often cite data centers’ total water usage without context. Yes, data centers use water for cooling. But reading an ebook on Libby isn’t notably more resource-intensive than other digital activities you likely already do—streaming music, watching videos, or scrolling social media.

Let’s add important context: the environmental cost of reading digitally versus physical books is complex.

Physical books require:

• Trees (even with recycled content)
• Water for paper production (significant amounts)
• Energy for printing presses
• Transportation fuel (shipping from printer to warehouse to bookstore/library)
• Warehousing climate control
• Retail space energy usage

Digital books require:

• Data center energy and cooling
• Device manufacturing (e-reader or tablet)
• Network infrastructure
• Server maintenance

Multiple lifecycle analyses have found that if you read more than about 10-20 books per year digitally, the environmental impact is generally lower than buying physical books, even accounting for data center usage. The e-reader’s manufacturing impact gets spread across hundreds of books over its lifetime.

Libby also specifically addressed environmental concerns in their statement, noting that “as a Certified B Corporation, we are required to meet defined social and environmental standards, aligning with recognized global frameworks and incorporating environmental performance into our overall ESG commitments.”

B Corporation certification is rigorous. It requires demonstrated social and environmental performance, public transparency, and legal accountability. Companies can’t just claim it—they must verify it through extensive documentation and third-party assessment.

Does this mean AI has no environmental impact? Of course not. But the narrative that using Libby is environmentally catastrophic because of AI doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, especially when compared to alternatives.

If environmental impact is your concern, the most effective actions are: use your e-reader for years rather than upgrading frequently, borrow rather than buy (whether digital or physical), and advocate for renewable energy in data centers and publishing operations.

Not All AI Use Is Created Equal

This might be uncomfortable for some to hear, but we need to distinguish between different types of AI use in publishing and library contexts.

AI-generated content (entire books written by AI with minimal human input) is what most people worry about—and rightfully so. These books can be low-quality, potentially plagiarized, and threatening to authors’ livelihoods.

But there’s a spectrum of AI involvement that’s worth considering:

AI-assisted tools that many authors already use:

• Grammar and spell-checkers (which use AI algorithms)
• Thesaurus and word suggestion tools
• Translation assistance
• Text-to-speech for editing (hearing your words read back)
• Dictation software that transcribes speech to text
• Accessibility tools that help disabled authors write

AI applications in library systems:

• Catalog search optimization (helping you find what you need)
• Recommendation algorithms (suggesting titles you might enjoy)
• Accessibility features (text-to-speech for visually impaired patrons)
• Translation services for non-English speakers
• Metadata generation (organizing and describing materials)

Publishing industry AI tools:

• Layout and formatting automation
• Audiobook production (though this is controversial regarding narrator jobs)
• Cover design assistance
• Market analysis to understand reader preferences
• Copyright detection systems

The question isn’t whether AI exists in the book ecosystem—it already does, in many forms. The question is: where do we draw ethical lines, and how do we ensure transparency?

Most of the book community isn’t actually opposed to grammar checkers or catalog search functions. What we oppose is:

• Entire books generated by AI without disclosure
• AI replacing human creativity and artistry
• Exploitation of authors’ work to train AI systems
• Devaluation of human writers and artists

These are legitimate concerns that deserve our attention and action. But conflating all AI use creates an impossible standard and distracts from the real issues.

Where the Real Problem Lives: Publishers and Platform Accountability

If we’re going to direct our energy toward change, we need to aim at the right targets.

Publishers are the entities choosing to produce, acquire, or distribute AI-generated content. They’re the ones making economic decisions about whether to replace human authors with AI. They’re the ones who could implement clear disclosure requirements but often don’t.

Major publishers have been frustratingly opaque about their AI policies. Some have said they won’t publish AI-generated books. Others have remained silent. Still others have quietly revised contracts to include AI-related clauses that favor the publisher.

Self-publishing platforms have even less oversight. Anyone can generate a book with AI, create a cover with AI, publish it, and sell it without any disclosure. These books flood Amazon, Google Books, and yes, library vendors.

Library vendors and distributors (not just Libby/OverDrive, but all of them) need to implement better identification systems. They need to pressure publishers for transparency. They need to create metadata fields specifically for AI disclosure.

Industry organizations like the Authors Guild, the American Library Association, and publishers’ associations need to develop ethical guidelines and best practices.

Legislators need to create frameworks for AI disclosure in creative works, similar to how we have requirements for disclosing product ingredients or sponsored content.

Libby is a platform caught in the middle. They serve libraries, who want to serve patrons, who want access to content, which comes from publishers, who are making AI-related decisions without adequate oversight or transparency.

Boycotting Libby doesn’t pressure publishers. It doesn’t create industry standards. It doesn’t push for legislation. It just hurts libraries.

What We Should Actually Do

I’m not suggesting we stay silent or accept the status quo. Our voices matter tremendously—we just need to direct them strategically.

Contact Libby/OverDrive Directly:

Let them know your concerns about AI content. Request:

• Better transparency mechanisms beyond publisher self-identification
• Clear labeling systems within the app when content involves AI
• Metadata fields that distinguish types of AI involvement
• Stronger publisher accountability requirements
• Regular reporting on AI content percentages in the catalog

Be specific in your feedback. “I oppose AI” is less effective than “I want to see a clearly labeled badge on any title that involves AI-generated text, similar to how you label formats or age ratings.”

Engage With Your Library:

Your library makes the purchasing decisions. They decide what’s in the collection you access through Libby.

• Email your library director and collection development librarians
• Attend library board meetings (they’re public and your input matters)
• Ask what their policy is regarding AI-generated content
• Request that they prioritize human-authored materials
• Share your concerns respectfully with library staff

Remember: librarians are likely just as concerned about AI as you are. Many are professional readers, book lovers, and champions of authors. They’re navigating impossible budgets and publisher restrictions while trying to serve their communities. Approach them as allies, not adversaries.

Talk to the Friends of the Library:

Most libraries have a Friends group—volunteer organizations that fundraise and advocate. These groups have tremendous influence.

• Attend their meetings
• Volunteer if you can
• Help with fundraising events
• Support their advocacy efforts
• Bring your concerns about AI to the group

Friends of the Library groups often have direct communication with library leadership and local government. They can amplify community concerns effectively.

Advocate for Better Library Funding:

This is crucial and often overlooked. Many problems libraries face—including feeling pressured to buy whatever cheap content is available—stem from inadequate funding.

Contact your:

• City council members
• County commissioners
• State representatives
• Federal legislators

Tell them:

• Libraries need increased funding to curate quality collections
• Digital content costs are unsustainable under current budgets
• Librarian positions need protection and competitive salaries
• You support library services and want them funded appropriately

Be specific about dollar amounts when possible. If you know your library’s budget or can find it (usually public information), reference it. Vague support is nice; specific advocacy with numbers is powerful.

Support Authors and Publishers Doing It Right:

Vote with your wallet and your attention.

• Buy books directly from authors when possible
• Support independent publishers with strong ethical stances
• Leave reviews for human-authored books you love
• Use library holds and checkouts to show demand for specific titles
• Share and promote authors who speak out about AI issues
• Subscribe to newsletters and Substacks from authors you admire

When you check out a book through Libby (or your physical library), you’re creating a data point that shows demand for that title. This influences what libraries buy more of. Your checkouts literally shape future collections.

Educate Yourself and Others:

Understanding the nuances of AI in publishing makes you a more effective advocate.

• Learn to spot AI-generated content (it has tells: repetitive phrasing, generic descriptions, oddly stilted dialogue)
• Follow industry news about AI policies from publishers
• Share accurate information, not just viral outrage
• Help others understand the difference between AI assistance and AI generation
• Amplify voices of authors and illustrators affected by AI

Push for Industry-Wide Standards:

Support organizations working on this:

• The Authors Guild has been actively pushing for AI protections
• The National Writers Union advocates for creator rights
• Organizations like the American Library Association are developing ethical frameworks
• Watch for petitions and public comment periods on AI-related legislation

When industry organizations ask for your input or support, provide it. Public comment, petition signatures, and demonstrated community concern do influence policy development.

Continue Using Library Services:

This might seem contradictory to a boycott mindset, but it’s actually the most powerful thing you can do.

• Keep using Libby and checking out books
• Visit your physical library
• Attend library programs
• Bring children to story time
• Use research databases and other library resources
• Recommend the library to others

Every interaction demonstrates that libraries matter to your community. Strong usage statistics protect libraries from cuts. Robust library systems can afford to be selective about their collections.

My Personal Commitment

I will absolutely continue using Libby. As someone who consumed 228+ books (audio, print, and digital) in 2025, almost entirely through Libby, I know my usage demonstrates to my library system that digital access matters deeply to their community.

Those 228 checkouts created data points showing demand. They justified my library’s digital budget. They potentially influenced which books got purchased. They demonstrated that audiobook access serves real community need.

But I’m also taking action:

I’m writing to OverDrive/Libby to express specific concerns about AI identification and to request clearer labeling systems within the app.

I’m contacting my local library to ask about their collection development policies regarding AI-generated content and to request they prioritize human authors.

I’m attending my next library board meeting to speak during public comment about community values regarding authentic creativity.

I’m joining my local Friends of the Library group to help with advocacy and fundraising efforts that will give my library more budgetary freedom to choose quality materials.

I’m contacting my city council and state representatives to advocate for increased library funding at both local and state levels.

I’m supporting authors directly by purchasing books, leaving reviews, and sharing their work widely across my platforms.

I’m educating myself about AI developments in publishing and sharing accurate, nuanced information rather than reactionary takes.

I’m using my platforms (blog, Instagram, newsletter) to discuss these issues thoughtfully and encourage others to take strategic action.

I can do all of this while continuing to use Libby. In fact, my continued Libby usage strengthens my advocacy position—I’m an engaged patron with demonstrated investment in the library’s digital services.

The Bigger Picture: What’s Really at Stake

This moment is about much more than one app or one AI policy decision.

We’re watching a convergence of threats to libraries and access to literature:

• Book banning efforts in communities across the country
• Political attacks on librarians and library boards
• Systematic defunding of public library systems
• Consolidation in the publishing industry
• Rising costs of both physical and digital materials
• AI disruption across creative industries
• Accessibility challenges for vulnerable populations
• Misinformation about library services and funding

Libraries are democracy in action. They’re the last purely public spaces in many communities. They provide equal access to information regardless of economic status. They’re neutral ground where all community members are welcome.

They’re also under assault from multiple directions.

In this context, a well-meaning but misguided boycott of Libby doesn’t strike a blow against AI. It doesn’t protect authors. It doesn’t change publishing industry practices.

It just makes libraries more vulnerable during a time when they can least afford it.

The book community’s passion and advocacy power are tremendous. We’ve successfully pushed back against censorship. We’ve supported authors through controversies. We’ve amplified marginalized voices. We’ve created movements that changed industry practices.

We can absolutely create change around AI transparency and author protection. But we need to direct our energy strategically:

At publishers who make opaque decisions about AI content At legislators who could require disclosure and protect creative rights At industry organizations to develop ethical standards At the systems that allow AI slop to flood the market At inadequate funding that forces libraries into impossible choices

Not at the technology platform that connects readers to their libraries.

What Real Change Looks Like

Imagine if the energy behind the Libby boycott calls instead went toward:

A coordinated email campaign to major publishers demanding clear AI disclosure policies, with thousands of readers sending messages on the same day.

Public pressure on Amazon and other self-publishing platforms to implement AI identification requirements and remove undisclosed AI content.

Organized advocacy to state legislatures for bills requiring AI disclosure in creative works, modeled on successful legislation like California’s AB 2013.

A viral campaign supporting the Authors Guild and similar organizations working to protect creator rights, raising funds and public awareness for their advocacy work.

Community organizing at local libraries with readers attending board meetings en masse to request AI-free collection priorities.

Pressure on professional organizations like the American Library Association to develop recommended practices for handling AI content.

That’s the kind of movement that could genuinely change the landscape. That’s where our collective power could reshape industry practices.

The Path Forward

I understand the impulse to boycott. When we feel powerless in the face of systems we can’t control, refusing to participate feels like taking a stand. It feels like doing something.

But effective advocacy requires understanding systems well enough to know where pressure creates change versus where it creates unintended harm.

Libby is not the enemy here. Libraries are definitely not the enemy. Overworked, underpaid librarians doing their best with impossible budgets are absolutely not the enemy.

The enemy is:

• Lack of transparency in publishing
• Inadequate creator protections
• Systems that incentivize cheap, low-quality content over human artistry
• Insufficient library funding
• Attacks on public institutions
• Prioritization of profit over people and creativity

We fight those enemies by:

• Demanding better from publishers
• Supporting legislation that protects creators
• Funding libraries adequately
• Using library services to prove their value
• Building coalitions across reader, author, librarian, and library worker communities
• Taking strategic, informed action rather than reactive gestures

At the End of the Day

I’m not deleting Libby. I’m not boycotting my library’s digital services.

I am, however, becoming a more active, vocal, strategic advocate for:

• Authors and human creativity
• Transparency in publishing
• Adequate library funding
• Accessibility for all readers
• Quality collection curation
• Ethical uses of technology

I hope you’ll join me—not in a boycott that hurts the wrong people, but in advocacy that creates actual change.

Our libraries are treasures. They’re community anchors, equalizers, educators, and sanctuaries. Librarians are champions of intellectual freedom, defenders of access, and curators of human knowledge and creativity.

In a time when access to information and literature is increasingly under threat, we cannot afford to damage libraries—even unintentionally, even with good intentions.

Be the voice of change. Push for transparency. Demand accountability. Support authors. Fund libraries.

But please, don’t let a misplaced boycott harm the institutions we need most.

What actions will you take this week to support both libraries and author protection?

Take Action:

• Email Libby: feedback@overdrive.com
• Find your library board meeting schedule (usually on your library’s website)
• Locate your local Friends of the Library group
• Find your elected representatives: usa.gov/elected-officials
• Support the Authors Guild: authorsguild.org
• Check your library’s digital collection policy (ask a librarian)

Resources:

• NPR: “E-Books are Expensive for Libraries“
• Libby’s AI Statement on Instagram
• Why You Should Still Support Libby [from Instagram]
• American Library Association – Intellectual Freedom Resources
• Authors Guild – AI Resources and Advocacy
• EveryLibrary – Library Advocacy Organization
• Your local library’s website for contact information and board meeting schedules

 Like what you read? Drop me a line – let’s chat over virtual coffee. 

~ Chrystal