Not my view obviously, but it is one conclusion you could come to had you attended the London Word Festival's debate on the future of libraries, No Furniture So Charming, held last week at Bethnal Green Library. The question arises because of the presentations given at the event, and because of some of the reactions to them from librarians.

The were nine talks in total, with the speakers tasked with imagining and describing their vision for the library of the future. "Be it a personal utopia, a visionary work of science fiction, a digital or practical re-imagining of user centred design or a call to action."

Interestingly most of the presenters were not librarians: they were instead artists or game designers, or something called a "technologist". The thing that connected them all was a fondness for libraries, and a sense of what libraries meant to them and might mean to them in the future. Some dismissed this as nostalgia.

One such was Kirsten Campbell whose father ran a mobile library. In fact, she confided, in some parts of Scotland she was still known as the "book bus bird". Her imagined library of the future would be a mobile space to inspire reading, it might also feature a cocktail bar, and a well stocked section of romance titles.

A second presentation followed a similar theme. Creative producer Rachel Coldicutt spoke about the "joy of having nothing to read", the point being that because libraries are limited they push readers to books they would not otherwise pick up: "I’m a big fan of limited choice". [Actually I should point out that Rachel had worked in two libraries in the past.]

She said: "This talk is meant to be about the library of the future, but it’s really about the library of the past. And I’m going to concentrate on one of the best things about libraries: the way they make it hard to find things. My qualification to talk about libraries is that I’ve been to quite a few. And I’ve worked in two."

A couple of presentations talked about libraries as spaces: communal spaces that could be used for philosophical inquiry or political discussion. Not so much a "book building" but a thought-place. A more activist approach was offered by Trenton Oldfield, who suggested we should defend libraries by smashing the coalition. I rather liked Trenton's presentation.

The event was ably compered by the author Travis Elborough, with the use of "shushing" and the noise of a book being stamped to keep the speakers on track. On the panel with me were Nora Daly, digital curator at the British Library; Charles Holland from FAT Architecture; and Chris Meade director of if:book.

The contributions of the panel was pretty minimal. Meade and Holland supported those presentations that talked about libraries as communal spaces; while Nora talked about how libraries needed to curate digital content and this would be a big part of their future. There was a general view that libraries needed to move beyond books, but I argued that libraries were in fact all about the book - not necessarily about the printed book, but certainly about edited and packaged content. There was consensus that libraries needed to be paid for out of taxation, and should not be left to ruination by local councils. "Libraries are not in crisis, it is the commitment to libraries that is in crisis," I said. By then the wine was flowing.

The event provoked strong reactions both online and offline. The most lively was Phil Bradley who attended and made his general annoyance about what he was hearing clear. He has also blogged his thoughts about the "sorry evening".

"The more this went on, the more annoyed I became. Where was the vision? Where was the future? What we got were people remembering what libraries were like in the past - one speaker even admitting that he hadn't had a library ticket prior to being asked to speak at this event so had to go and get one! I thought that the panel was very restrained, although this could be put down to be totally bemused by what was being presented to them."

A second blog was written by Ian, who works in an academic library but is not a librarian, who blogs at thoughtsofawannbelibrarian. Ian also felt the emphasis on books was ill-judged. "It was at this point that a couple of us (one more forcefully than the other!) raised the issue of the strong book bias in a lot of the presentations as well as the event in general. The shushing and book stamping were raised as issues of concern in terms of stereotyping and there was a certain disappointment with the lack of really innovative thinking in terms of what the future library would actually look like. I added that I felt access to information was a crucial component of the library service, and that the format in which it comes in is not important, whether it be ebooks or the Internet, libraries should provide a space for free access to information in all its forms."

The comments on the blog, kicked off by library campaigner Tim Coates are also worth reading, as they further emphasize the split between those librarians on the thread who want to move beyond books, and those who want libraries to be about books. Bizarrely Ian even threatens to block Tim for his use of CIPFA statistics. 

A third response (to the debate) was provided by Sarah Childs. It is entitled "Arguing with fools and drunks", though  I don't think the fools are those of us who thought libraries were about books. In fact, I mention Sarah's blog not to throw further fuel on the fire (she has since made it private), but because she articulates what might be a recurring theme here. She says, "I bloody LOVE  reading, and in my younger days was a massive bookworm – a booksnake, if you will," but when called on to express her vision of what is good about being called a librarian cannot come up with a response she finds appealing.

I think she is wrong: I bloody love reading too. It's a great response. Books are the thing that bind us - whether as librarians, booksellers, readers, or even journalists. Librarians issued more books last year than were sold in book stores. They should be immensely proud of that fact. Books may be changing - they may become digital, and morph into apps - but reading is not going out of fashion and neither is the quest for knowledge. Computers may be essential for libraries, but in twenty years will a similar group of people gather together to talk nostalgically about the days when they surfed the web for free on an ageing Dell. I doubt it.

Yet for a few hours last week in East London a bunch of library enthusiasts stood up in front of an audience of about a hundred and articulated visions of why libraries were and remain necessary. In many ways they had no rights to be there: these were generally young educated technophiles living in an urban environment that offers information and entertainment in a myriad of ways that could and probably should make libraries redundant.

But they weren't saying that: they were saying the opposite, and I am struggling to understand why librarians seem so reluctant to listen to the message begin given out. As one of the presenters Dan Thompson has blogged, the audience, rather than seeing supporters, saw only the enemy. And an underqualifed one to boot!

Nostalgia has a place in the future, in fact what we choose to remember about what was good about the past should inform the future. It may also prove to be a strong weapon in the fight for the survival of libraries. We dismiss this, and the part books play in it, at our peril.