Book bans can be traced back to the first ever printed book, the 1445 Gutenberg Bible, a text that differentiated between canonical texts and apocryphal texts (from the Greek apókruphos or “that which should be hidden”), that made the latter heretical and, thus, banned. 

For 20 years, I have specialized in banned books and monarchic and religious censorship in the Western world, working in the “archives of the forbidden” in the Vatican, Ireland, France, Spain, Mexico, and England.

My latest book, Offensive to Pious Ears: Obscenity and Censorship in 18th Century Spanish and Mexican Poetry (Vervuert, 2022), analyzes the censorship of poetry deemed as “obscene,” where obscene (from the Latin obs or ‘outside of,’ caenum or ‘dirt,’ and scaenum or ‘scene’) describes texts which, by their ‘dirty’ nature, must be cast off the scene. 

Through my research, I found that the obscene speaks more about the relationship that censors have with themselves (and what they consider ‘dirty’) than about the books they abhor. Furthermore, I noted that censors “create” the obscene and become its best guardians because they identify, obsess over, preserve, and publicize it to the point of making it “go viral.”

Obscenity, thus, changes through time and space. In 16th-century Europe, heresy was obscene; in the 17th, politics; and in the 18th, sex and philosophy. Similarly, what was obscene in Spain (sex, for example) was more tolerated in England or France. But when political turmoil erupted in those freer societies, censorship returned to control the public sphere.

Censorship has been an integral part of American history, too, particularly in the banning of books that have exposed the cruelty of domination. In 1637, Thomas Morton’s New English Canaan was banned for representing colonial abuse of Native Americans; and in 1852 and 1984, respectively, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Alice Walker’s The Color Purple were banned for depicting slavery and segregation.

Today, books centering on African American history, thought, artistic expression, or lived experience are actively being banned. Twenty-eight states have voted or are voting to pass anti-critical race theory (CRT) bills forbidding the circulation of works by
African American authors, such as Nikole Hannah-Jones, Toni Morrison, or the youngest poet to read at a presidential inauguration, Amanda Gorman, who read her poem, “The Hill We Climb” at President Biden’s inauguration when she was 22. 

CRT is a theoretical framework used in legal studies to explain how old systems of domination, such as slavery and segregation, have morphed into new ones, such as red lining, hyper-policing, or mass incarceration. This academic term entered the “culture wars” in 2020 when Christopher Rufo, the spokesperson for conservative think tanks, such as the Manhattan Institute and the Heritage Foundation, chose CRT as the umbrella term to launch a campaign against diversity, equity, and inclusion. He also conflated the promotion of African American rights and studies with the promotion of LGBTQ+ rights—this lumping together of groups and ideas resulted in legislation targeting these concepts like the “Stop WOKE” act and the “Don’t Say Gay” bill signed into law by Governor DeSantis in Florida.

“Woke” is a term that originated in the 1938 song “Scottsboro Boys,” in which Lead Belly asked Black folks to “stay awake” to fight injustice. It became the motto of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013 (after the killing of Trayvon Martin) and returned in 2020 after George Floyd’s murder by the police. To be “woke” is, thus, to be an informed and active citizen. 

“To awaken” has become a rallying cry on the other side of the “culture wars,” too. Extreme conservative factions, such as the QAnon movement, use the “Great Awakening” (from 18th-century revivalism) to rouse their followers and reveal the government’s hidden “truths” (for example, the “cult of children’s blood drinkers” in Hollywood or D.C.). 

Yet the “woke” and the “awakened” have different objectives: whereas the “woke” seek to redesign American values and move from a culture of exceptionalism to one of inclusion, the “awakened” react against the left’s ethical shift, promoting a return to a mythical, glorious past. 

Reminiscent of the Civil War, today’s “culture wars” continue a binary and absolute division along the lines of North/South, urban/rural, Democrat/Republican, Blue/Red, and, depending on one’s political faction, good/bad. With these cultures at war, censorship reappears. On the left, it is through “cancel culture” or “political correctness.” On the right, it is through book and idea bans.

Many people don’t feel safe expressing their ideas or questions. Changing your mind, partially accepting someone else’s viewpoints, or compromising are seen as weaknesses. In 2023, my students analyzed cancel culture, political correctness, hate speech, and freedom of expression. They found that although political correctness tries to dismantle hate speech, it can also lead to the hyper-policing of language and the restriction of discussion, dissent, and curiosity. In a “culture of cancellation,” errors, inaccuracies, or misunderstandings are punished without recourse to appeal. Furthermore, cancel culture is capricious because it follows the logic of the mob, the meme, or the hashtag. 

But if the left uses economic, social, or political pressure to regulate discourse, the right harnesses the power of the state to ban books and legally limit what can be taught in the
public sphere.

In 2022, 2,571 books were challenged, and 3,362 in 2023, a 33% increase, according to PEN America. Moms for Liberty, the social force behind it, has weaponized the notion of “parental rights” to lead this campaign. In 2020–2021, only 11 individuals challenged 60% of the total of books. In Virginia, Jennifer Petersen is responsible for banning 73 books, among them Toni Morrison’s Beloved, for being “sexually explicit.”

The book banning movement denounces the “indoctrination of critical race theory” by the “liberal left” in public education. It claims that depictions of slavery, segregation, or discrimination are “divisive” because they promote “white guilt” and that books representing the diversity of gender identities or sexual expressions are “obscene.” 

Ironically, their movement eagerly foists their own propaganda on others. For instance, Prager U, a conservative media organization, is currently distributing content to Oklahoma’s and Florida’s public schools, presenting the conquest of the Americas as a “civilizing” effort by Europeans and white people as the only demographic who fought to end slavery in America.

In the “culture wars,” shutting up and shutting down seem to be the only strategies. Despite the American myth of freedom of speech, it is evident that neither freedom nor censorship are absolutes or, for that matter, antagonists. Freedom of speech in the U.S. is not absolute. We cannot scream ‘fire’ in a theater, defame a person, steal a slogan, or incite violence against an individual. Similarly, censorship is not absolute nor always negative. We regularly censor ourselves out of fear, social mores, self-interest, or emotional intelligence. Yet, in democracies, suppressive censorship—in the form of book bans—brings us closer to a repressive past (the Inquisition) or a dystopian future (George Orwell’s 1984) in which ideas, identities, communities, and lived experiences are the first to be suppressed.

In 2016, I asked students to explain why Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham was banned in China from 1965 to 1991. They blamed the illustrations or the silliness of the story. Little did they know that the Chinese government banned it because Guy-I-am had the terrible idea of changing his mind. So, when we cancel someone or ban a book, it would be good to ask ourselves: what is it that we are so afraid of?