Thinking of this as a caching problem, there need to be hyperlocal borrowing like at the level of apartment buildings or city blocks. The 6-unit apartment building I live in has a shared area in the basement—power tools, a shop vac, brewing equipment, knife sharpener, pentalobe screwdrivers, a weedwhacker, a multimeter, etc.) This complements the tool lending library (which my city has) which furnishes lower frequency needs. The hyperlocal thing is also a nice way to meet your neighbors (oh wow you also have a lot of pentalobe screwdrivers!) and share skills (I just learned how to fertilize houseplants).
For higher value items, I've been meaning to extend the above apartment-wide setup with a Google Doc inventory of things that people are willing to share, but want where participants want face-to-face confirmation, like loaning a camera or a mountain bike. I wish there were a way (a social institution moreso than a technical solution) to make quick contracts for borrowing things. I'm privileged enough to be able to replace minor things, but I am definitely relucatant to loan big things if I don't know if a friend can/would replace the thing if something bad happened on their watch. And no I don't want to rent them—I don't like the cognitive overhead of markets, and that's not the point.
This reminds me somewhat of a social conundrum I've been experiencing lately; the thing is, in some cases I love most of my neighbors, however there are always the few who won't/don't value communal items/space. The group of those residents who want to just live harmoniously with their neighbors outnumbers the subset of residents who care enough about the rules to confront those breaking them. The passive group vilifies and subjugates those who try to mention anything to bad actors abusing the space, because they feel it will only rock the boat, and the ones breaking the rules shout the loudest.
If this sounds oddly specific, that's because it is- In my community we have a communal pool for our apartment block of 10-15 units. In general, everyone gets along, but there do exist problems where self governance and trust have failed, as far as taking care of shared property. Those who just want to live peacefully are retreating into their homes, those who care enough to say anything have been dismissed by the tenant in question, labeled as racist, bigoted or otherwise are browbeaten by the more fearful tenants into not reporting the problems.
In our case, it is a swimming pool, and a struggle with a tenant and her friends who sit around the pool drinking alcohol loudly all day, never once leaving, who enter the shallow end of the pool about twice an hour for 10 seconds, swishing their hands in the water around their waist before they exit. There is a restroom in her apartment which is less than 20 feet from the pool; I'm not positive what's going on in those 10 seconds, but people like myself who's balconies overlook the pool are noting this, and nobody wants to swim anymore because of it. Any suggestions about just talking to the tenant elicit a gasp and dirty look from the pacifist crowd. How would you, dear reader, handle a delicate situation like this?
After realizing how futile any complaints would be, I've stopped swimming until I find the respectful and correct way to put a resolution on this.
This personal anecdote may have strayed from its target, but relating the situation to the void felt somewhat cathartic.
For higher value items, I've been meaning to extend the above apartment-wide setup with a Google Doc inventory of things that people are willing to share, but want where participants want face-to-face confirmation, like loaning a camera or a mountain bike. I wish there were a way (a social institution moreso than a technical solution) to make quick contracts for borrowing things. I'm privileged enough to be able to replace minor things, but I am definitely relucatant to loan big things if I don't know if a friend can/would replace the thing if something bad happened on their watch. And no I don't want to rent them—I don't like the cognitive overhead of markets, and that's not the point.