Two Acoustic Environments

Libraries have long been perceived as quiet temples of scholarly silence. For hundreds of years, they have been likened to—and, in some cases, were—monastic repositories of knowledge, free of noise and existing in a perpetual contemplative hush separated from the clamor of worldly activity. Libraries were synonymous with silence and focused, self-directed work.

In the recent past, however, attitudes toward libraries began to change. Over the past twenty or so years, an increased emphasis on collaborative and cross-disciplinary work has shifted expectations of the experience and environment that a library will provide. As group work took on a more prevalent role in higher education, libraries were expected to offer collaborative spaces where conversation was not only accepted but encouraged. Quiet reading rooms gave way to a boom in learning commons spaces, seen as the new laboratories for learning.

Yet, as attitudes changed regarding the ideal utilities and services that libraries should provide, there remained many users who required them to be spaces for quiet study. As numerous articles and case studies have demonstrated—including our publication on the value of silence in academic library spaces (Goodnight & Jeitner, 2016)—there is no shortage of demand for silent study spaces (Cha & Kim, 2020; Chaputula, 2021; Massis, 2012; McCaffrey & Breen, 2016; Zhu & Xie, 2023). And while recent events, such as the COVID-19 pandemic, have affected higher education and students’ expectations for learning, recent, post-pandemic studies continue to find that quiet study spaces are in high demand among library users (Chaputula, 2021; Zhu & Xie, 2023). As much as collaboration and discussion are now required components of the modern college student’s workload, quiet and contemplative solitude seem to be as desirable.

An Ambient Alternative

After having provided our students with both a new learning commons and designated Quiet Study Zones, we realized there was still a gap in user satisfaction at our library. Patrons gave us positive feedback on those areas; yet, from informal conversations with students on campus, we also received occasional, anecdotal feedback that some users were still not able to find library spaces conducive to their needs. For these patrons, the learning commons was too loud, and the quiet areas were too quiet. These patrons found both spaces too acoustically extreme. They were seeking a middle-ground: a space that had some background noise in it, yet not so much that it became distracting.

Despite the anecdotal, casual manner in which this feedback reached us, the students who shared these thoughts felt strongly about the acoustic conditions of their ideal study environment, and we were intrigued by the possibility of this small-yet-underserved population within our library. We thought that since we had come across this perspective with no deliberate effort to survey for it, there were likely more students on campus who also felt this way. We turned our attention toward ambient sound and its potential role in library spaces. Just as our initial approach caused us to overlook a subset of our patron population, our framing of the discussion meant we overlooked an important middle ground of the acoustic spectrum. We expanded our focus beyond the binary considerations of “silence versus noise” to include low-level ambient sound.

Artificial ambient background sound is often categorized as “white noise” or “pink noise.” While both are designed to be non-disruptive and to mask audible conversation within a space, there are technical differences. White noise is an artificial mixture of the entire range of audio frequencies that humans can hear, “generally from 250 Hz to 8,000 kHz … in equal amounts” (Mehta et al., 2012, p. 785). Pink noise does not include all frequencies in equal amounts, instead favoring lower frequencies and reducing higher frequencies. The Oxford Dictionary of Psychology states pink noise contains “more energy in the bass than the treble because high-frequency sound is more energetic than low-frequency sound” (Colman, 2015). Pink noise has an acoustic similarity to certain natural sounds, such as flowing water or light rainfall.

We investigated whether low-level, machine-generated, ambient pink noise that approximated the sound of flowing water influenced student use of library quiet-study spaces. Would ambient sound within a quiet study space attract or repel students? Would some students consider such an atmosphere ideal for studying and seek it out?

Negative Approaches to Sound

Of the literature focusing on the impact of sound in libraries, the majority framed sound as “noise,” an unwanted, detrimental intrusion into a work space (Abbasi et al., 2014; Aremu et al., 2015; Asher et al., 2016; Bowron & Wordofa, 2016; Braat-Eggen et al., 2017; Brothánek et al., 2020; Cha & Kim, 2020; Chaputula, 2021; Franks & Asher, 2014; Gardner & Eng, 2005; Lange et al., 2016; Manna & De Sarkar, 2024; McCaffrey & Breen, 2016; Nichols & Philbin, 2022; NVW Editorial Staff, 2017; Pierard & Baca, 2019; Wiemer, 2022; Yelinek & Bressler, 2013). Or, as Kelman (2001) put it: “Noise is what you hear when you don’t want to hear anything at all” (p. 24). While those articles acknowledged that many library users seek collaborative workspaces that are friendly to noise and discussion, the authors tended to focus on people who used the library as a quiet study space. To meet the needs of these patrons, noise must be controlled, policed, and, wherever possible, reduced—and those articles outlined various approaches to doing this.

One obvious and common method of controlling noise in library study spaces is a structural, architectural approach, limiting the spread of noise through physical barriers, walls, partitions, and sound-absorbent materials (Dokmeci Yorukoglu & Kang, 2016; Lin et al., 2011; Na et al., 2007; Rajagopalan et al., 2017). McCaffrey and Breen (2016) stated that Ireland’s University of Limerick reduced intrusive noise in quiet areas after “doors were installed at the entrance to many wings and reading spaces” (p. 786). A study of four academic libraries in Florida reported on one that used book shelving as sound barriers and another that planned to enclose quiet areas within double-pane glass walls (Franks & Asher, 2014). One library even incorporated sound mitigation solutions into their architectural planning for a new library space (Mattern, 2007).

Of course, not all sound control is addressed through architecture; and, in some cases, the architectural arrangement fostered poor acoustics. The Salt Lake City Public Library’s Urban Room is one such example. It

succeeds as a vibrant public space—but, in orchestrating a habitus for study, this arrangement seems disconcerting: in order to gain entry to a space for quiet, silent reading, one must cross a cavern of commerce with footsteps echoing from the stone floor below. (Mattern, 2007, p. 289)

One 2020 study sought to determine if the building architecture of the National Library of Technology in the Czech Republic promoted an ideal acoustic environment for conducting academic work (Brothánek et al.). Researchers measured both “continuous noise measurement and noise propagation” and “sound pressure levels” (p. 3–4) in the building atrium during times of peak library occupancy. They compared them with measurements taken when the building was empty, and the authors concluded that the mere presence of a certain number of patrons, each creating a degree of ambient noise through movement and mundane activities (such as using a computer keyboard), had an effect on the soundscape due to the atrium’s particular spatial configuration.

Another popular means for controlling sound is the use of zones (Bell, 2008; Brothánek et al., 2020; Franks & Asher, 2014; Lange et al., 2016; McCaffrey & Breen, 2016; Nichols & Philbin, 2022; Palin, 2014; Pierard & Baca, 2019; Yelinek & Bressler, 2013). By demarcating specific regions and then establishing no-talking policies for them, libraries create a shared set of expectations surrounding behavior in such zones (Bell, 2008; Yelinek & Bressler, 2013). This is effective for maintaining quiet in these spaces, as patrons will police themselves and one another.

Still another effective method of managing noise is through signage and noise policies. A number of libraries reported having quiet policies that governed noise in certain areas (Bedwell & Banks, 2013; Yelinek & Bressler, 2013). Several libraries also stated that signs were an important step in communicating those policies and reminding patrons to reduce noise (Lange et al., 2016; McCaffrey & Breen, 2016; Yelinek & Bressler, 2013).

In two instances of trying to use signage to police quiet study areas, both McGill University Library and the Zimmerman Library at the University of New Mexico employed NoiseSign devices, which provided patrons with real-time displays of the current decibel measure within quiet study spaces, similar in purpose to speed feedback signage on roadways, which were shown to reduce speeding. In the McGill study, the NoiseSign failed to cause any decrease in noise levels throughout the study area, and students’ reported perceptions of quiet within the area remained unchanged (Lange et al., 2016). However, Pierard and Baca (2019) found one period of the afternoon during which noise levels dropped by a statistically significant degree.

Positive Approaches to Sound

Not all approaches to sound in libraries adopt a stark, negative position on the matter. Some librarians advocate for mediating noise with a different approach: instead of trying to turn study spaces into soundless vacuums, these libraries seek to direct certain kinds of noise toward positive, helpful ends. As Mattern (2007) put it, “We need to think of [noise] not as something to be eliminated or controlled, but as something to be orchestrated, and even designed for” (p. 279–280). Some approaches to library environments even involve creating “soundscape frameworks” to better understand the way that libraries function acoustically (Dokmeci Yorukoglu & Kang, 2016).

Bowron and Wordofa (2016) reported on a library employing specialized technology to control the scope of sound. Tennessee’s Austin Peay State University’s library used parametric speakers to project extremely focused beams of sound within a limited spatial range. These speakers could generate “focused sound in a targeted location to provide information to library users without creating disturbances outside the intended area” (para. 5). According to the authors, this system was used to balance the need for purposeful sound with the need for quiet within a large, single-room space.

Still considering sound as an environmental positive, we found libraries who actively used sound within their study spaces. By emitting low, all-frequency/broadband background sound, or white noise, through speakers—a practice called “sound masking”—some libraries created a sound-dampening acoustic blanket, changing patrons’ perception of the noise level in a space (Clancy, 2011; Manna & De Sarkar, 2024; Palin, 2014). Typically, a “constant, unobtrusive hum, 3 to 5 decibels higher than the human voice” is used to create an effective sound mask (Clancy, 2011). At Sunapee Middle High School, one librarian created a simple sound masking system: “… the noise masking … is accomplished inexpensively through a small speaker and MP3 player located atop a bookshelf … [the] system plays sounds of rain or soft classical music” (Palin, 2014, p. 19).

It is useful to remember that sound is a spectrum, and some degrees of sound can be beneficial to library users. As Bedwell and Banks (2013) pointed out, “individual studiers sought out quietness, not silence” (p. 11). The act of reading is itself varied when it comes to degrees of quietness, sometimes less silent than we might think. Looking at people using public spaces “reveals myriad practices of reading: solitary, partnered or collective; silent, aloud, or accompanied by a musical soundtrack; upright, seated, or prone; indoors or outdoors” (Mattern, 2007, p. 290). Reading environments often have variable levels of sound, some included in the reading and learning process by necessity, as in the case of tutoring or reading aloud to practice pronunciation. Some sounds are necessary characteristics of study environments. “People walking, writing, typing are all involved in the performance and production of the civic, and therefore these sounds amount to little more than the white noise of the machinery” (Kelman, 2001, p. 38).

For some students, the presence of low-level, ambient sound makes a space more attractive for study use. As Bedwell and Banks (2013) reported in their study at Dalhousie University’s Killam Memorial Library, ambient sound had a “significant effect” on students choosing to study in the South Learning Commons and atrium (p. 9). Though the spaces were active throughways filled with sound, both were popular spots for studying and tutoring. Additionally, “the atrium contained water features that emitted the sound of running water” (p. 9). Another study reported a similar phenomenon, observing that some students studied in a busy space with background noise, preferring that to a traditional silent study area (Bryant et al., 2009). Yet another study reported that some ambient noise aided in studying, quoting students as saying “‘I like ambient noise,’ and ‘it’s too quiet and intense’” (Lange et al., 2016, p. 55).

A 2015 cross-institutional study found “many [students] listed noise as something that actually helped them to concentrate” (May & Swabey, 2015, p. 784). Further, Helps et al. (2014) found that, for participants with attention deficits, the presence of white noise improved performance in a variety of cognitive tasks. Mehta et al. (2012) argued that moderate levels of ambient sound “induced higher processing disfluency,” which resulted in higher levels of creative thinking (p. 794).

Given these findings, it is likely that libraries would be facilitating the broadest range of student success by providing study spaces with ambient sound in addition to quiet study spaces. However, such study zones would need to be separated from regular quiet study areas so as not to disrupt the silence or compete for available seats.

The Bjork Library Soundscape

Our case study focuses on Stockton University, a public, four-year college in the New Jersey higher education system. We serve almost 10,000 students, the majority of whom are undergraduates from New Jersey. The Richard E. Bjork Library at Stockton University is a 3-story wing of the main building on our campus in Galloway.

Richard E. Bjork Library contains multiple Quiet Study Zones. These are areas of each floor reserved for individual studying in which audible conversation is prohibited. One Quiet Study Zone occupies a large portion of the rear of the main floor, and the entirety of the second floor is a Quiet Study Zone. The main floor had two natural buffers—two ranges of current periodicals shelving—which allowed us to create zones in which to study sound and the desire of students to sit in each area. The second floor has taller, more numerous book shelving units and walled-off spaces that create natural zones of space. Furniture in the Quiet Study Zones primarily consists of study carrels, upholstered solitary seats, and small tables—ideal seating for individual work and not conducive to group use.

Ambient Sound Zones

Of the total space designated for quiet study, we identified four focal areas for this study, characterized as Ambient Sound Zones or AS Zones. We placed the pink noise generator in these four areas, and we gauged how far the sound would carry. Once we could no longer hear the sound, we noted the boundary of that Ambient Sound Zone. In order to have spatial buffers for each data collection period, we also established areas between the Ambient Sound Zones where none of the pink noise would reach. When we mapped these zones, we labeled them A, AB, B, C, CD, and D. Due to the openness of the library’s architecture, some areas naturally overlapped. We put the pink noise generator inside a secured case, so no one could tamper with it, and we placed it in one of the four Ambient Sound Zones at the beginning of the study.

The generator rotated through each Ambient Sound Zone for approximately four weeks at a time, during which we collected data. Ultimately, over both semesters of the 2016–17 academic year, the generator cycled through all four Ambient Sound Zones, pausing only during the winter intersession when no students were on campus. See Table 1.

While the generator was present, signage within these areas explained the reason for the sound and requested that students not tamper with the device. After we relocated the generator to another AS Zone, we changed the signage to inform students of the device’s new location in case anyone was seeking to work in the AS Zone.

We collected locational data that consisted of seat occupancy counts from all quiet study areas within the library. We created floor maps depicting all seating and then marked which seats were occupied. For the duration of the study, we made counts of these areas at 9 a.m., 12 p.m., 3 p.m., 6:30 p.m., and 9:30 p.m. (See Figures 1a and 1b.)

Figure 1a:

Maps with coding and AS Zones in shaded areas.

Figure 1b:

Maps with coding and AS Zones in shaded areas.

It is important to pause here and address the age of the data we present in this case study. We intended to publish the results of the study once it was completed. Indeed, following the first semester of data collection, we presented some promising initial findings at a professional event. However, a mix of personal and workplace events—along with a global pandemic—delayed our sharing of the concluded work. Nonetheless, because there is a lack of published research on the use of pink noise in libraries, and because our study is more exploratory than conclusive, the age of the data does not diminish its relevance.

Recommendations

Our library prioritizes a user-centered approach to service design. To meet the needs of this newly identified student constituency, we recommend creating a third type of study space infused with low-level ambient sound. We can repurpose one seating area normally reserved as quiet study into this new Ambient Sound Zone, provided it is removed from the main Quiet Study Zone to preserve the latter’s dedication to complete silence.

We also recommend, given the exploratory nature of our data collection, that college and university libraries and other campus spaces experiment more with ambient sound. Students crave a variety of spaces to study in, and many now find spaces that mask other noises or provide calming background noise within which they can focus their attention on academic work. Additionally, a study on whether students are supplying their own ambient noise through the use of personal headphones or other technology would be informative. The idea of traveling with your own sounds is quite popular now and would add to our understanding of how students interact with space and sound.

Limitations

We acknowledge that our study contains some limitations we could address if we repeated it. While we monitored and recorded seat occupancy on the main and second floor of the building, we did not track seat occupancy on the library’s lower floor. An exhaustive record of seat occupancy within the building could demonstrate further that students chose to sit in our Ambient Study Zones over other areas. Additionally we could strengthen our results through the use of surveys or focus groups targeting students who used the Quiet Study Zones or/and AS Zones during our data-collection period. Survey feedback would allow students to detail their preferences and opinions on library seating and might add greater depth or additional dimensions to our conclusions.

Yet another limitation of our study arises from the lack of data concerning other factors that might affect students’ choice of seat. For example, Seats A7 and C5 are both in corners with large windows on both sides. They overlook a wooded part of campus with Lake Fred visible in the distance, offering a pleasant view, privacy, and a great deal of natural light. During our study, these were the most consistently occupied seat in the library. Seat B56, on the other hand, is a single seat with no table or electrical outlets nearby, near two doorways within Section B. We encourage future studies that build on our explorations to consider these factors when examining student use of library spaces.

Additionally, we acknowledge that, were we conducting this study today, some aspects of our methodology may well be altered as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. Students’ overall quiet study needs are likely much the same today as they were pre-pandemic, and their search for spaces with particular sound characteristics would probably remain unchanged. However, other seemingly unrelated factors could impact personal choices regarding space. For example, might the widespread awareness of social distancing as a means of combating contagion affect students’ seat selection? The choice of seat might become more dependent on whether many students are also seated in that section, and how close those other seats are to the one being considered. This would place even more importance on surveys and other means of insight into students’ decision-making processes. What constitutes a popular seat in a Quiet Study Zone could be different now than when we conducted our original study.

Local Plans and Impacts

Following our recommendation for a permanent Ambient Sound Zone within our library, the librarians discussed where we might place such a zone and how to produce the pink noise. We planned for the installation of a fixed Ambient Sound Zone during the next academic year.

However, not all library service plans come to fruition on schedule. After some logistical setbacks—including an extended shutdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic—we still have not implemented a permanent Ambient Sound Zone in our library. This initiative was placed on hiatus due to an imminent, extensive renovation of our library’s layout and spaces. We intend to revisit this plan once the renovation is complete, in the hopes of launching a pilot project within the new library space.