Kinokuniya's downsizing: A blueprint for the bookstore of the future?

While wandering through Ngee Ann City last week, I momentarily forgot which floor Kinokuniya was on and asked a mall employee for directions.

"Oh, the stationery shop?" she replied. "That's one floor up."

I clutched my metaphorical pearls. Stationery shop? That's like calling the Louvre a frame store. Since when did Singapore's most iconic bookstore get demoted to become a purveyor of pens?

Perhaps she had a point. To many, the Japanese book retailer has become less about books and more about beautiful notebooks and washi tape.

After all, Singaporeans seem to be reading - and buying - fewer books. A 2021 National Library Board survey found that only about one in three adult respondents reported reading six books or more a year.

Yet, when the news broke in February that Kinokuniya's 26-year-old flagship store in Ngee Ann City would be downsizing from its current 38,000 sq ft footprint to make room for a cafe, among other things, the outrage from book lovers was instant and impassioned.

Social media lit up with emotional eulogies about the death of bricks-and-mortar bookstores. Many feared a future where serious literature will be shelved for flat whites and lifestyle fluff.

But let's not close the book just yet. Maybe this isn't the end of the plot, but a fresh new chapter for Kinokuniya's long-overdue evolution.

From sanctuaries to social spaces

We tend to romanticise bookstores as quiet, contemplative sanctuaries. But they are increasingly becoming social spaces.

In our hyper-online world, there's a growing appetite for offline moments, and savvier bookstores have re-imagined themselves as safe spaces where bookworms can emerge from their shells and connect.

At independent bookstore Book Bar, author talks and book launches continue to draw healthy crowds.

Book clubs have also proliferated - at least seven have emerged in Singapore over the past two years.

Many of them have quickly found a following, especially among niche professional and social circles.

The Awaken Book Club draws entrepreneurs interested in personal development, while the women-led No Readgrets Book Club focuses on empowering marginalised voices.

According to ticketing platform Eventbrite, listings of Singapore-based book clubs grew by 58 per cent in the first five months of 2024 alone - 26 times higher than in 2019. Another event-listings site, Meetup, says book-club events doubled year on year in May 2024, hitting a five-year high.

In an age of digital distractions and endless doomscrolling, book clubs offer what we all need: focus, accountability and a healthy dose of peer pressure to finish the book before the next meeting.

But they also reflect a growing trend of reading as a team sport. Even online, the #BookTok movement on TikTok has made it cool to post book hauls, reviews and recommendations, turning solitary reading into social virality.

It's not that we no longer prize slow reading and critical thinking. We still do, but we don't want to do it alone. Book culture is going communal - and readers are hungry not just for stories, but also connection.

If bookstores are bold enough to reinvent themselves, they can be the perfect platform for this.

Less warehouse, more warmth

Kinokuniya's encyclopaedic inventory has long been its calling card.

But this edge has dulled in the era of e-commerce and next-day delivery.

Add Singapore's excellent public library network - with its free access, digital loans and diverse programming - and the need for bookstores to evolve becomes clearer.

To stay relevant, bookstores must offer what online stores and libraries can't: human connection, serendipity and personalisation. The future of physical retail lies in creating high-touch spaces that spark discovery and delight.

Imagine a bookstore that remembers what you've bought and gently nudges you towards something new you might love. Or where staff pen handwritten notes championing a forgotten gem. A store where you're invited to leave your own recommendations for fellow readers, or explore a rotating table of picks by thought leaders, entrepreneurs and local personalities.

There could even be intimate journaling or bookbinding workshops for writers, and open-mic nights for storytelling. Collaborations with local artists or designers could yield limited-edition merchandise that blends literature with craft.

In short, less warehouse, more warmth - a modern-day kampung for book lovers.

We can see how bookstores overseas have done it.

At Shakespeare and Company in Paris, aspiring writers sleep among the shelves. Buenos Aires' El Ateneo Grand Splendid hosts weekly piano performances in its converted theatre space. Cook & Book in Brussels lets you dine in themed rooms lined with books, while Libreria in London bans phones entirely to encourage deep reading.

By weaving memorable programming and immersive experiences into the book-buying journey, these bookstores have evolved from local retailers into thriving global literary landmarks, inspiring readers worldwide.

These are not gimmicks but intentional choices made to give people more reasons to come, and fewer excuses to leave.

Not just square footage

As Singapore's leading book retailer, Kinokuniya has a prime opportunity to redefine what a modern bookstore can - and should - be.

A well-designed, community-centric space - be it a cafe, a test kitchen for cookbook demos, or an interactive family zone - can blur the boundary between browsing and belonging.

Japan's Tsutaya Books could serve as a model, Knight Frank's head of retail Ethan Hsu suggested to me. The Japanese chain is known for incorporating lifestyle experiences like cafes, playgrounds and co-working lounges in its outlets.

He suggested partnerships with complementary businesses to draw diverse footfall and defray rental costs.

After all, Kinokuniya itself once had an in-house cafe, while Borders at Wheelock Place set the blueprint for the books, music and coffee combo.

But why just have a run-of-the-mill cafe? Consider a rotating slate of home-grown chefs serving up literary-themed treats, like whimsical Alice In Wonderland afternoon teas or Crazy Rich Asians kueh, to keep things fresh and fun.

Beyond partnerships, bookstores can rethink digital media as an opportunity, not a threat. As sustainability pushes readers toward e-books and audiobooks, why not integrate them on-site? Picture digital sample stations, audiobook previews in immersive soundscapes, or live performances by local arts groups bringing books to life.

Former Kinokuniya Singapore store director Kenny Chan also told me he sees potential in pop culture tie-ins, such as spotlighting Disney+'s popular series Shogun on in-store screens, to drive novel sales.

And if there's ever been a time for Kinokuniya to harness its vocal, loyal community, it's now. Crowdsource ideas, run polls, gather suggestions, or create space for community-led events. People clearly care. Give them a say, and they'll show up - and keep returning - to a destination they helped to create.

The bookstore industry is not dying - it is simply evolving. Let's stop measuring its worth in square footage alone.

After all, it's not the number of shelves that matter, but what happens between them. A smaller Kinokuniya that sparks conversation, nurtures curiosity and keeps readers coming back could be far more valuable than a cavernous one people breeze through.

If Kinokuniya and the next generation of bookstores it inspires can reimagine themselves as curators of literary culture, not just sellers of cold brews and calligraphy brushes, then maybe we're not witnessing the end of an era, but the start of a more exciting one.

And hopefully no one will mistake it for a stationery shop again.