By Karen Sternheimer

While visiting Roosevelt Island in New York, I came upon a park named for President Franklin Roosevelt’s Four Freedoms speech, which I discuss in this blog post. I vaguely remembered this speech, and as I re-read it, I stumbled upon the phrase “social economy,” or institutions that are created with a social mission.

This seemed a perfect description of some of the beautiful buildings I visited while in New York: art museums, Penn Station, Grand Central Station, and the New York Public Library. These buildings are not all owned by the public, but exist to fulfil a public service. It made me think about how and why communities decide to invest vast resources in making spaces like these beautiful, ornate, and works of art themselves when they could easily be simple utilitarian buildings.

I had been past the iconic New York Public Library building on Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street many times, but had never gone inside. On a recent visit I discovered that the library offers free, docent-led tours and signed up for one. The building’s grandeur exceeded my expectations. While describing the building’s history and materials used in its construction, our guide stressed that this was no museum, but a functioning library with a variety of special collections. From original manuscripts of famous authors, a photo collection that includes pictures stolen by artist Andy Warhol, a large map collection and a genealogy database, the library’s assets alone would have been impressive enough. But the building is stunning, as you can see in the photos below.

Entrance to the New York Public Library. Photo courtesy of the author.

Ornate reading rooms in the New York Public Library. Photos courtesy of the author.

The library’s construction began in 1895 and opened in 1911, largely financed by the city during the Gilded Age, with large contributions by wealthy donors. You can see some of their names if you zoom in on the first image. It cost about $9 million to build (roughly $307 million in 2026 dollars). From the ornate columns, marble, and painted ceilings (plaster painted to look like wood), it is clear that this was not just a building built to hold books for people to read or sign out. The building is a celebration of knowledge.

The library’s opening came just a year after the first version of Penn Station opened, also a grand Beaux-Arts building that would be demolished in 1963 after demand for rail travel dramatically declined (the current Penn Station was built shortly after and opened in 1968). Grand Central Terminal opened a few years later in 1913 to compete with Penn Station, also Beaux-Arts style. This architectural genre served as a means of projecting wealth and new engineering techniques of the late nineteenth century.

We might think of buildings like these as extravagant, reflections of flush times when resources allowed construction of opulent buildings. Today some might think of such projects as wasting public money. But they can also be seen as celebrations of a city, both projecting its importance and celebrating certain types of spaces, reflecting the priorities of a time and place—and the people who make them realities. Donors and civic leaders play a large role in constructing these spaces, contributing money in exchange for their names on wings or in the case of the library, special collections or reading rooms.

These buildings reflect a belief in the social economy; places that are meant to benefit the public, not just individuals. There is something transformational about being able to walk into one of these beautiful buildings regardless of your socioeconomic status. You don’t need to buy a ticket to enter the library like you might for a museum or a concert hall, spaces that are often associated with wealth.

Across the country from the grandiose buildings of New York, the Griffith Observatory opened in 1935, perched on a hill overlooking downtown Los Angeles. Featuring a planetarium and numerous space-related exhibits, the building itself—like the New York buildings noted above—is worth a visit for its grandeur. Crowds filter in and out of the building to enjoy the exhibits and the view of the city from the hill.

The observatory sits within Griffith Park, an expanse of land initially donated by the controversial industrialist Griffith J. Griffith (yes, he had the same first and last name, and yes, he his shot his wife and went to prison.) But his name lives on as a patron of science and parkland, the ultimate identity cleanse. Contributing to the social economy can have personal benefits too.

Griffith Observatory, Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of the author.

These buildings tell us a lot about public and private priorities. As celebrations of knowledge, science, and art, such spaces send powerful messages. I am living near the Observatory now, and regularly see it from neighborhood walks, my nearby Target parking structure, when I check out at the grocery store. It’s a daily reminder of the ongoing commitment to science and learning. It’s also free for visitors.

Back in my original community, the 2025 Los Angeles firestorm took our local public library. It will be rebuilt after receiving funds from the state and is seeking donations from the public. Some community members are hoping this will be more than a replacement of the small midcentury modern building that held books, DVDs, and some computer terminals, but a more grandiose campus that celebrates the community’s renewal. It will take a significant amount of money to make a reality. Will wealthy industrialists answer the call, as they did over a century ago?

At a time when public budgets are tight, and those with internet access can download eBooks and audiobooks, libraries might not seem as necessary. But they are a central part of the social economy, as libraries remain one of the only true public spaces. I was struck by the beauty of the marbled entrance of the “We the People” exhibit below, where everyone is encouraged to share what the 250^th anniversary of the United States means to them. For me, libraries and beautiful public spaces are among the best of what we the people have created.

Exhibit at the New York Public Library. Photo courtesy of the author.