Why do we buy books that we never read?

Take a quick look around your home. Is there a stack of books by your bed? A bookshelf overflowing, with new books still looking untouched? Is a bag from a recent bookstore trip still sitting there, full of good intentions and future reads? If so, you're not alone. You might be doing something called tsundoku, a Japanese word for getting books and letting them pile up, often unread.

Many book lovers do this and sometimes feel a bit guilty about it. Why do we spend money and make space for stories and information we might never get? The answer is about much more than just reading the words on the page.

Often, the books we buy show the person we hope to become. That copy of Atomic Habits, the thick history book about aeroplanes, or the latest popular science magazine might show our curiosity or desire to improve. We imagine ourselves as the kind of person who knows these things, who understands these big ideas.

The book on the shelf becomes a symbol, a real object standing in for a future, smarter version of ourselves. Buying the book can be a step towards that goal, even if we put off reading it. The book's presence offers a quiet promise that we can grow.

Each unread book holds possibility. It promises escape, adventure, new ways of seeing things, or deep understanding. Just owning the book comforts us that we can access these things.

It's like having a kitchen stocked with ingredients; you might not bake every cake you could, but knowing you have the potential is satisfying. The unread book is like a sleeping world, waiting patiently for us to enter when ready.

However, if we are honest, books are often more beautiful objects than just books themselves. Even with screens everywhere, the appeal of a physical book remains strong.

We're drawn to great cover art, nice fonts, or the satisfying feel of a hardcover book. Collecting books can be like collecting art or music, something we do for enjoyment.

Our bookshelves become displays showing our interests, tastes, and personalities, which is a way to express ourselves.

The books we choose show our values and what we care about learning, even if we haven't opened them yet. They become part of our home's appearance, showing who we are or want to be. A special edition or a book with personal meaning has value beyond just the words inside.

Statistician and author Nassim Nicholas Taleb called a collection of unread books an "anti-library."

He strongly argues that these unread books are more valuable than the ones we've finished. Why? Because they represent a vast number of things we don't know.

An anti-library helps keep us humble about what we know and curious to learn more. It's a constant, physical reminder of all the learning and discovery, pushing us to keep exploring instead of feeling satisfied with what we already know.

Far from being a sign of failure, Taleb suggests that those piles of books show that we are mentally active and want to understand more.

Sometimes, buying a book isn't mainly about reading it at all. It might be a souvenir from a trip, a meaningful gift, or a book purchased during a critical time that reminds you of that period.

These books act as emotional anchors, real things connecting us to memories and feelings. There's also the simple pleasure of buying things, that little burst of happiness we get from getting something new, especially something linked to intelligence or enjoyment like a book. Finding a book you've been looking for or supporting a favourite author or bookstore adds another kind of satisfaction that's separate from, but related to, actually reading it.

While seeing the stacks grow might sometimes make us feel guilty or anxious, it helps to remember that sudoku isn't usually seen negatively in Japanese culture, unlike Bibliomania, which means an out-of-control obsession.

So, the next time you look at your piles of unread books, try not to see them as a failure or a list of tasks. See them as showing your curiosity and hopes and how much you appreciate the endless worlds inside their covers.

They are proof of your desire to learn and grow. Your anti-library isn't a sign you're lazy; it's a map of where your mind wants to go, a beautiful weight full of possibility. And that's something worth feeling good about, even if you haven't turned every page yet.

samin.shahan@gmail.com