The Rise of Book Bans: Should We Be Worried?

By Rowan Rutherford

Book bans are nothing new. Across the US and UK, attempts to suppress certain texts have spanned centuries. The first recorded American book ban dates back to colonial times, when New English Canaan by Thomas Morton was condemned for challenging Puritan orthodoxy and defending indigenous groups. Since then, the act of restricting books has enabled those in power to shape the ruling ideology of their time.

Today, book bans have re-emerged as a striking sign of the times, with Donald Trump’s first election in 2016 inciting a decade of “culture wars”. In the US, competing moral beliefs between Democrats and Republicans increasingly play out not only in Congress or the Media, but also in classrooms and libraries. According to PEN America, the 2022–2023 school year saw a 33% increase in book bans, marking a sharp rise in attempts to limit access to certain ideas.

Surprisingly, the UK has also witnessed a similar trend. A recent report from Index on Censorship found that more than half of UK librarians have faced pressure to restrict or remove books within the past year. UCL Professor Alison Hicks deepened these findings, revealing that in recent years librarians have received anonymous propaganda, endured social media harassment, and even found vandalised copies of ‘undesirable’ books. Such intimidation points to a growing cultural unease over what information should publicly accessible.

The most frequently challenged works tend to centre on LGBTQ+ themes and issues of sexual identity. Texts such as Heartstopper, Billy’s Bravery, and This Book Is Gay have been recurrent targets of removal efforts in the UK. In general, right-wing groups will campaign against books dealing with race, gender, and sexuality, while some left-wing movements seek to challenge or remove literature viewed as discriminatory or religiously intolerant. In both cases, books become battlegrounds in a wider struggle over whose voices deserve to be heard.

In the US, critics argue that book bans fundamentally undermine the First Amendment, which guarantees both the freedom of speech and the right to receive information. When government institutions, including public schools, remove books because of their viewpoints, such actions may be considered unconstitutional censorship and viewpoint discrimination. The landmark 1982 Supreme Court case Board of Education v. Pico held that school boards could not remove books simply on the basis of disagreement with the ideas portrayed. The Court affirmed that access to information is a crucial element of democratic freedom.

 However, even following above ruling, the issue remains ambiguous. Public schools occupy a unique constitutional space where students’ rights to free expression are somewhat limited. As Chief Justice Burger noted, “local control of education involves democracy as a microcosm,” meaning that schools retain authority to make educational judgments. If material is considered “pervasively vulgar” or “educationally unsuitable,” administrators may have legitimate grounds to restrict it. Because many book-ban cases are decided by narrow majorities, legal precedent remains inconsistent, leaving the boundaries of censorship in education largely unsettled.

 In the UK, similar tensions exist, though the legal framework differs. Statutes such as The Obscene Publications Act 1964 permit the banning of works deemed likely to “deprave and corrupt” readers through sexual or violent content. Likewise, The Public Order Act 1986 allows for the restriction of materials inciting racial or religious hatred. These laws reflect a persistent governmental belief in the moral and social power of literature, with censorship signifying the proscriptive role books play in shaping public values.

Yet, the central question is not whether governments have a constitutional right to censor, but rather how they decide on which works qualify as censorable material. What one person views as immoral, another might see as an essential truth. The subjectivity of terms like “offensive” or “inappropriate” ensures that debates over censorship will always be matters of interpretation.

 So, should we be worried? Yes — but not necessarily due to the existence of book bans themselves. What is most concerning is the growing politicisation and intimidation surrounding them. Librarians should never be pressured by public outrage or online harassment to remove titles. Decisions about access to books should always follow ethical and legal frameworks, such as professional bodies like CILIP.

If the rise in parental and political pressure continues, it will be vital for authors, publishers, and educators to resist unjustified censorship. Legal challenges to questionable bans could help establish stronger precedent and clarity for future cases. As long as the UK continues to recognise the social, moral, and cultural importance of libraries, and ensures they are properly funded and protected, we have reason to be cautiously optimistic.

Ultimately, the joy of books lies in their fiction. We gain catharsis from tragedy, confront our fears in dystopia, and learn morality from parables. Literature is an illuminating reflection, and we should only censor what we absolutely must. As put in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray: “The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.”

Edited by Artyom Timofeev

Image source: https://www.axios.com/2023/10/29/prisons-books-banned-report-censorship