a library background with little images of coins and a hand holding a gree book
A novel idea has had a good impact on readers (Image: Wellington City Council/The Spinoff)

BooksJuly 4, 2025

Public libraries ditched fines – and got more visitors

a library background with little images of coins and a hand holding a gree book
A novel idea has had a good impact on readers (Image: Wellington City Council/The Spinoff)

Almost every public library in New Zealand no longer charges fines. How has that affected usage? 

In 2021 and 2022, following a push overseas, many New Zealand public libraries ditched fines. “It’s this idea that we’re supporting our users in our community – not that a library is a space where you might be fined,” says Anne Goulding, a professor of library and information science at VUW. 

Instead of libraries charging an increasing fee when a book isn’t returned, and having to at times engage debt collectors to do so, the model changed. Users still have to pay when they lose a book, and if items are overdue, their accounts can be frozen. But for the most part, walking into a library with a book due last Tuesday won’t cost money to fix. 

“People feel embarrassed and ashamed when they have fines, and often stop using the library,“ says the website of Fine Free Aotearoa, a campaign from Public Libraries of New Zealand. According to their map, Wairoa is the only district that still has library fines on children’s books: 30 cents per overdue day and $3.50 for each reminder letter they send. Six libraries (Hamilton, Whanganui, Marlborough, Grey, Waimate and Wairoa) still have overdue fines for adults. Fine Free Aotearoa quotes dozens of local and international examples – including Upper Hutt, the first library system in New Zealand to drop fines – showing that removing fines increased library usage.

After three years without fines, Christchurch City Libraries has definitely seen an increase in usage. “Following the removal of fines, we have seen an 8% increase in the number of library members using our collections and services,” says Rosie Levi, the acting head of Christchurch City Libraries, where fines were dropped in July 2022. 

The data is positive across all libraries: Wellington City Libraries saw a 30% increase in new customers in its second year without fees, even though the city’s main library is closed. “The problem with library fines wasn’t that the books didn’t come back – it was that the people never did. Now our libraries are truly for everyone,” said Wellington councillor Rebecca Matthews earlier this year, having championed the change. 

Even when fines were collected, it wasn’t a significant portion of the cost of running libraries; in Auckland, 33% of fines were never collected. While it’s difficult to track exactly how much administering fines cost, there was an impact in staff time, negotiating payment plans and calling customers on the phone. Use of electronic books – which return themselves – meant that the number of people getting fines was already decreasing. 

The change was a simple one, says Goulding, but it indicated something more profound. “Having fines is kind of paternalistic – the idea that people can’t be trusted to return things on time.” It’s also a question about what the fines achieved. “Some people say that library fines are good, because they teach people to be civic minded and responsible – but is that really the job of a library?” 

There are some caveats to the data. Councils started removing fines at the same time as pandemic restrictions ended, which brought people back to libraries. And high inflation and job losses tend to be an indicator of library use. “It’s called the Librarian’s Axiom: when there’s a recession, library use increases,” Goulding says.

a young girl reading in a nook with colourful carpet and bookshelves behind her and lots of floor space
Te Awe Library in Wellington is a space designed for community use as well as storing books (Image: Wellington City Council)

The logic of removing fines and making libraries more popular is obvious. People with overdue books might avoid going back to a library and making use of its resources because they don’t want to pay a fine; people might check out fewer books, because fines for five overdue books would be more than fines for one or two. 

Removing fines does impact library revenue streams. The revenue for Christchurch City Libraries for the 2024-25 year was $569,000, less than half the $1,354,000 in revenue in 2020-21, before fines were removed in 2022 and holds became free in 2024. “It’s easier for large library systems in major cities to absorb that cost, smaller ones struggle,” Goulding says. 

As the removal of fines shows, libraries are finding ways to serve their community beyond just providing access to books. “If you ask people what libraries are, the quality of ‘library-ness’ is around books,” Goulding says. But while “books are still at the heart of what libraries do”, libraries have benefitted from expanding their offerings. 

“We know that half the community don’t use our services,” says Mat Logan, manager of culture, content and learning at Selwyn District Council. If you’re regularly checking out books, you get a great deal; not so much otherwise. “Some people have books at home, some have English as a second language, some have poor literacy, some just don’t like books. But they all pay rates.” 

a girl in a tutu and a rainbow top dances in front of a cellist and violinist
A Christchurch Symphony Orchestra performance at Te Ara Ātea in Rolleston (Image: Selwyn District Council)

Encompassing the rural land to the south and west of Christchurch, including Rolleston and Lincoln, Selwyn is New Zealand’s fastest growing district. Lots of people haven’t been in the area long, presenting a challenge to libraries. “People are migrating from metropolitan centres looking for housing affordability, and they bring with them big city expectations of services,” Logan says. 

Selwyn’s libraries have responded with creative event programming: finding people in the local community who have skills to teach. Workshops this winter include pattern drafting, ring making, female self defence, gin making, Matariki crafts and a series teaching te reo Māori. The quarterly brochure has become “an eagerly anticipated release… we have people who are diehard fans of the content,” Logan says.

There’s been a change in who comes into the library: older dads and their 20-something sons attending a beer brewing course, or older Pasifika people attending a dance workshop – demographics the library usually sees less of. “The signs of success are when you look around and think ‘I haven’t seen half of those people before’,” Logan says. 

a group of people bending over a table weaving green harakeke in natural light
A kete weaving workshop with Te Kāhui Hono (Image: Selwyn District Council)

It’s required financial commitment, including a dedicated programming team who find people to teach bonsai cutting or fly fishing. Selwyn Libraries hosts a mix of free and paid events. “We make that money back [through paid events], but there are ways you could do this without spending so much money – a gardening series, a seed swap.” 

As with removing fines, this requires a broader view of what libraries are there for. “Maybe people leave the class with a book about home brewing – that’s great. But maybe they go and watch a YouTube video, or take another class,” Logan says. 

Newly built libraries often include space for a range of activities. “More mobile shelving can be moved around, and lower shelving makes the space lighter and brighter,” says professor Goulding. “There is a conflict there – because it means less space for books.” 

Books remain vital resources – but libraries can be a starting place for all kinds of lifelong learning, Logan says. “We see our role as going as broad as possible, planting a bunch of seeds and seeing what will sprout.”

Keep going!
Five book covers with red satin behind them.
Books with well-written sex scenes ahoy.

BooksJuly 3, 2025

Let’s read about sex: what are the books that do it best?

Five book covers with red satin behind them.
Books with well-written sex scenes ahoy.

Writers nominate novels that include what they consider to be well-written sex scenes.

Writing sex is difficult: there’s quite the spectrum of effects that a writer might be trying to achieve – from sex for sex’s sake (spicy romance novels) to attempting to convey the most intimate of character developments from the awkward to the transgressive. Literary sex, in particular, is so notoriously difficult to get right that there is a long-running Bad Sex in Fiction award that has exposed some real clangers (interesting to note that the majority of the offending authors are men) that rubbed the award’s judges the wrong way.

When I asked a bunch of New Zealand writers to send me their nominations for books with the best-written sex I got a range of responses. You’ll see from the recommendations below that well-written sex includes not only sex that reads as authentically hot, but also sex that can read as authentically awkward, difficult and even disturbing. 

Herewith, a selection of great books with great (at least in the well-written sense) sex:

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

The Ministry of Time offers themes of identity, ethical dilemma, polar exploration, climate change and time travel – what more could you want? Great sex scenes, that’s what. These are truly the cherry on top of what is already a gripping and bizarre-in-a-good-way story. The Ministry of Time’s sex scenes are lightly written but the preceding tensions feel part of the act. These scenes are tender yet steamy and also incredibly banal. They’re funny but hot, a perfect combo. At Auckland Writers Festival, author Kaliane Bradley said: “You’re either a spite writer, or a horny writer.” She is most definitely a horny writer. And a great one at that. / Liv Sisson, author of Fungi of Aotearoa

A Quiet Kind of Thunder by Sara Barnard 

A Quiet Kind of Thunder is a YA that perfectly nails the experience of first-time (straight) sex. Two teens in love spend a weekend rendezvous in Glasgow getting frisky – and it’s clumsy, it’s fumbling, there’s sweat and elbows accidentally pulling hair and awkward laughter and it’s not romantic but it’s safe and it’s gentle and it’s kind and it’s real. Reading it as a young and inexperienced teen, it showed me that my first time wasn’t going to be perfect – and that’s OK. I think the narrator Steffi sums it up best, once it’s all over: “He’s sweaty and hot. I love him, and I’m glad we’ve shared this intense, sensual thing, but ew. Can I push him off?” / Hannah Marshall, author of It’s a Bit More Complicated Than That 

The Safe Keep by Yael van der Wouden

Everything about this Women’s Prize for Fiction-winning book is beautiful, but Chapter 10 shifts the novel from beautiful to steaming hot. Van der Wouden’s debut is a triumph in the genre of historical fiction but also in the genre of sex writing. In this story about a highly anxious spinster oddly attached to a house in 1960s Den Haag, desire and sex comes as a surprise to everyone involved. What the sex scenes offer is a spring of hope and resolution to an otherwise desperately sad and traumatic situation: it offers the characters a pathway that involves love and energy and connection. It’s also an edifying celebration of queer love in the context of a period of history that attempted to suppress it. / Claire Mabey, author of The Raven’s Eye Runaways

Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor

This novel does astonishing things with language. Its depiction of desire and pursuit and sex and longing is surprising and horny and so attuned to the weirdness and potency of those feelings. It never falls into the trap of trying to make desire either all beautiful or all raunchy. Generally speaking I think most of the best sex scenes I’ve read are in queer books – thinking also of Mrs S by K Patrick, anything by Carmen Maria Machado, Eileen Myles’ Chelsea Girls – maybe because they’re all attuned to something other than the hetero power dynamic / the default porn norm? / Maddie Ballard, author of Bound: a memoir of making and remaking

Three nominations for books containing well-written sex.

All Fours by Miranda July

The sex scenes in this are like nothing else I can think of – so unashamed of their horniness, so female, so oblivious to taboo. The tampon scene blew my mind.” / Maddie Ballard

“I love July’s experimentation. It’s such a horny book and fuelled by a fear of ‘falling off the cliff’ – a last gasp before the menopause effects a steep drop in oestrogen and strangles the libido. Such a hilarious, tender book. I don’t really get why women are using it as a catalyst for blowing up their lives (it’s fiction!) but I do get why so many readers are clinging onto this expression of desire for dear life.” / Claire Mabey

Down from Upland by Murdoch Stephens

Murdoch’s books are about social relations and also, in particular, power relations, and he treats sex with the same lens. I reckon Lawrence & Gibson (Stephens’ publisher) in general treats sex in a specific way that is uncommon in NZ literature. 

Murdoch’s influences are the French and American New Narrative writers who are both frank when it comes to sex, and eschew the abstract or the metaphor. It means the sex scenes can often be excruciating or awkward, but it all comes down to power. / Brannavan Gnanalingam, author of The life and opinions of Kartik Popat

Into the River by Ted Dawe

I’ll nominate Ted Dawe’s excellent, award-winning, banned YA novel Into the River. There’s a wonderfully subversive and truthful sex scene in it which I have no intention of describing, because a summary will make it sound crass, whereas Ted’s rendering is mischievous, startling and liberating. Family First, those self-appointed guardians of Aotearoa/New Zealand’s morality, demanded the book be either banned or restricted. And it was in our country for a while. In the meantime, attendant publicity and the book’s merit saw it published in multiple overseas countries. Finally, the book was permitted in our own land – and you’ll all have noticed the dreadful decline in national decency since that happened?? / David Hill, author of Below

Poorhara by Michelle Rahurahu

The scene where Erin loses her virginity in Poorhara by Michelle Rahurahu has stuck with me, not because it is sexy, but because it’s disturbing, at moments comic but in a heartbreakingly sad way, and because it’s multi-layered. 

We’re in close third person so it’s intensely psychological. Like Ocean Vuong does in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Rahurahu describes the physical acts in a gritty, real way but absolutely through Erin’s sensibility – He kept tracing [the pounamu pendant] over her body, kissing the places it went …. Each patch of saliva he left on her dissolved the cells so that her body was slowly breaking down, softening into fleshy, brown strands of wet seaweed.”

On another level, we’re seeing the sexual interaction as a continuation of communication or in this case miscommunication between the characters. “He shoved his tongue down her throat again. The kissing was nice, but she was worried about where it was going. – I’m a virgin, she said hoarsely. He laughed – Oh that’s fine. You don’t have to be self-conscious.” Sally Rooney is such a master of this, too, capturing in exquisite detail both the awkward and transcendent moments in the sexual relationships of her characters. / Claire Baylis, author of Dice

CRASH by JG Ballard

Far be it from me to likely be the only male in this selection of writers on good writing about sex and to wind up pointing to a writer whose publisher said, “The author of this book is beyond psychiatric help” – but here it is.

JG Ballard’s CRASH was published in 1974 and remains as vivid and transgressive today. But possibly way more comprehensible, more funny, more sad. 

CRASH uses preternaturally lucid, sane, and formal English prose to explore the possibility of the intersection of sex and the car crash to heal the trauma of a sanctuary – the dull car – becoming a sudden violent nest of knives. It’s an incredible act of avant garde-ism that effectively uses a classic signifier of class – fine, stylised, controlled English – to investigate the utterly outré – uber-explicit sexuality teamed with violent physical trauma, the long after-effects and how they might be healed. 

The cover of JG Ballard's novel CRASH which is orange with a drawing of a busted car and a woman lying on the ground covered in debris.
Carl Shuker’s copy of CRASH by JG Ballard.

Ballard leans in all the way and articulates the concept with what Amis – perfectly – called “glazed and creamy precision”. The perfectly structured result is mostly sex but utterly unsexy and utterly compulsive. The vocabulary completely non-metaphorical (globes of semen and instrument binnacles), it becomes a kind of abstract instruction manual for a post-Christian, post-humanist sexual healing – access to the sacred – however you can get it and wherever you can find it.

It is the pinnacle of Ballard’s work after the outrageous death of his young wife meant all other forms of writing were rendered inadequate, sentimental and bankrupt. It’s almost impossible to articulate its power and effect; even the closed book hums on the shelf. I re-read it in Japan, aged 24, in mourning combined with a different form of culture shock on top and can confirm – in a state of outraged disturb – only the outrageously disturbing is comfort. 

In 1992 Suede sang, “What does it take to turn you on? Now he has gone?” CRASH is a kind of an answer where “he” could be whatever unbearable thing you’ve lost or that’s happened to you, and the answer to that question could be: whatever it takes. / Carl Shuker, author of The Royal Free