Photo by Jean Thornton. George Orwell’s Books sold out.

The next time you visit a bookstore, make sure to observe what books were recently banned. They often contain the ideas and perspectives that those in power are desperate to suppress. 

These books are the ones that unsettle, complicate history, and refuse to offer easy answers. They don’t just tell stories; they hold up mirrors. That makes them dangerous to those who benefit from selective reflection.

In 2023 alone, more than 2,500 books were challenged in schools and libraries across the U.S., according to the American Library Association. 

The pattern is not random. The most targeted books amplify marginalized voices, confront systemic oppression, and address realities that some would rather deny. 

The fight over books isn’t really about protecting children, it’s about controlling narratives, shaping history, and deciding which voices get heard. Books that evoke ideas in young minds seem to be dangerous.

I don’t quite understand the danger in reading The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, Beloved by Toni Morrison, and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. These books are all targeted due to their themes of social injustice. Why is a book that urges us to think critically about our society considered a threat? 

Book bans thrive on fear, fear of discomfort, or conversations that force change. The justifications we’ve heard are familiar but don’t hold up to scrutiny. Many say they want to protectchildren from inappropriate topics, but who defines inappropriate?

And, why does this concern overwhelmingly and consistently target books about race, gender, and sexuality? A single objection should not dictate what an entire community can read.

 Bans are less about content and more about maintaining ideological control. If they were about content, they would be applied fairly and consistently, but that rarely happens because similar content is often allowed if it supports the beliefs of those in power.

A good number of books are banned in schools for discussing racism too openly, yet history textbooks that neglect or justify past injustices remain unchanged. The issue isn’t the topic itself, but whose perspective is being shared.

George Orwell, author of 1984 and Animal Farm, warned us about the slippery slope of history erasure, so it’s no surprise that his book sales surged in 2021. In 1984, history was rewritten to serve those in power. In Animal Farm, language is manipulated to control the truth.

Book bans follow the same blueprint: deciding what ideas are safe, what perspectives are acceptable, and what knowledge is too “dangerous” to be widely available. The danger, of course, isn’t in the books themselves but in what their suppression signifies: a growing willingness to rewrite reality to fit a more convenient narrative.

Censorship has never succeeded in burying ideas; if anything, it amplifies them. Organizations like PEN America and the ALA’s Office for Intellectual Freedom are fighting back. States like Illinois are passing legislation to prevent libraries from removing books under political pressure. 

Readers are pushing back by reading banned books, discussing them, and ensuring they aren’t erased from collective memory. 

Whenever I hear that a book has been banned, it only makes me more eager to read it. I believe this generation views censorship as a sign that something is worth understanding, especially when it challenges authority. 

If a book is banned, ask why. When an idea gets challenged, it’s often the one we should pay attention to. The debate over what we are allowed to read goes beyond access, it is an argument to guarantee that all perspectives are represented and that the narratives shaping our morals and values are told by voices that are both credible and worthy of being heard.