Beyond One Book: the wider impact of school library censorship

 As part of the recent CILIP Members’ Fest, I was asked to take part in a panel discussion for the Midlands Member Network, speaking about an issue I was working on within my sector – school librarianship. There were several possibilities I could have chosen; the deprofessionalisation of school library staff, the lack of statutory requirements for school libraries or the widespread public misconceptions about the role and impact of school libraries. In the end, I chose to focus on book banning and censorship – an issue that relatively few other library sectors encounter so directly, yet one that is becoming an increasing concern within school libraries.

A couple of weeks later I was delivering training to a group from LIPSEE (Librarians in Prep Schools) on this same topic. The session included a practical, hands-on exercise on writing a Collection Development Policy and establishing a clear procedure for responding to concerns about books. Coincidentally, during the morning an article about book banning in a Manchester school was published by Index on Censorship. This was not news to me; the CILIP School Libraries Group (SLG - of which I am currently Vice Chair and Treasurer) is supporting the librarian involved and we were aware she had chosen to go public – albeit anonymously and without naming the school. 

I’ve delivered similar training before, both via webinars and in-person, and the reactions have been mixed. Some attendees have embraced the process enthusiastically, drafting policies, securing approval and publishing them on their school websites. Others, however, have been more hesitant. I have heard comments such as, ‘this policy isn’t statutory so we don’t need one’ yet many schools maintain policies that are not statutory - homework and uniform polices, for example, - and no one suggests these are unnecessary.  Occasionally there has even been a reluctance to make a policy public with concerns that doing so might give parents ideas about challenging books. Yet, having a policy that requires parents to read the book in question and clearly outline their specific concerns, alongside a transparent process for reviewing challenges, may in fact discourage some from taking the matter further. 

During the training session I read the article aloud and the collective response in the room was one of shock and concern, with a clear recognition that any one of the librarians present could find themselves in a similar position. I suspect that for quite a few of them, writing or updating a collection development policy has now moved significantly higher up their to-do list.

School libraries hold curated collections by necessity; we simply don’t have the budgets, space or  purpose to purchase and retain every book that is published. Nor should we - school libraries are not archives, they contain dynamic, responsive collections that evolve over time with their holdings reflecting the interests of the students, the requirements of the current curriculum and wider trends in genres, authors and formats. At the same time, materials are selected with careful consideration of students’ reading levels, emotional maturity and age. For that reason, you are unlikely to find an A Level Chemistry textbook in a primary school library, just as you would not expect to see a novel by Louise O’Neill on the shelves of a Key Stage 1 reading corner.

Anyone who has been following the wave of book bans in the United States, or who has seen the recent documentary film, The Librarians, will recognise how serious the situation has become. PEN America has tracked 6870 book bans in the 2024-2025 school year alone and has documented nearly 23.000 bans in US schools since 2021, the majority with themes of identity, race and sexuality. While there is currently no official centralised list tracking challenges in the UK, the cases that have been reported follow very similar patterns and it is increasingly clear that such challenges are becoming more frequent. 

At first glance, book challenges may appear to only affect individual titles within individual school libraries – after all, what difference does the removal of one book make in a collection of 12,000 items? In reality, the implications extend beyond a single title and affect students academically, socially and emotionally. They also raise fundamental questions about authority and representation: who decides what’s appropriate for young people to read, and why should the views of a single parent determine what’s available to every student in the school? Those 23,000 book bans – 72% are from organised movements including pressure groups and government entities wanting to exert influence and control over education.

Research consistently shows that choice and representation play a significant role in increasing reading frequency and comprehension. When students see themselves reflected in books they are more likely to read frequently and with greater understanding. Reducing the range of books available therefore risks undermining motivation and engagement with reading altogether. Removing all of a type of book, for example, books featuring LGBTQ+ characters, not only reduces representation but risks breaching the Equality Act 2010. More importantly,  it sends a message to the school community that LGBTQ+ students are somehow unwelcome or invisible, which can contribute to feelings of marginalisation and isolation. The same would be true if books featuring Muslim characters or other minority groups were systematically removed.

Restricting access to books also reduces opportunities for students to encounter diverse perspectives and viewpoints; exposure to different ideas and experiences is a key component of developing empathy, cultural awareness and what we often refer to as cultural capital. Limiting what students can read therefore has broader educational implications; it constrains intellectual freedom, weakens critical thinking and narrows access to information at precisely the stage when young people are learning to engage with the wider world.

The removal of books from school libraries sets a powerful and troubling precedent. It normalises the idea that restricting access to reading material is an acceptable response to discomfort or disagreement, gradually shifting expectations about what constitutes ‘appropriate’ content – a judgement that is, by its very nature, subjective. At the same time, it challenges the professional expertise of librarians, undermining their role as trained specialists in selecting and managing collections. Libraries themselves are reframed in the process: instead of being recognised as valued, safe spaces for exploration and learning, they begin to be seen as sites of controversy, risk or liability.

This narrative shift has wider consequences. It shapes the way decision makers talk about libraries, influences attitudes towards funding, erodes public trust and invites greater scrutiny from those who may not fully understand the purpose and practice of librarianship.

The effects also ripple far beyond the removal of a single title:

• Librarians begin to self-censor their collections for fear of complaints or repercussions

• Teachers become more cautious about the books they share and the discussions they facilitate in the classroom 

• Reading lists and set texts - including those studied for exams - become narrower and less representative

• Authors and illustrators feel pressure to ‘play it safe’ when writing for children and young people

• Publishers may hesitate to commission or promote books they believe are likely to attract challenges or bans

In this way, censorship is not an abstract concept or isolated incident. It reshapes the cultural and educational landscape in which all libraries operate - school, academic and public alike. Each removed book quietly redraws the boundaries of what can be read, discussed and imagined. And if those boundaries continue to shrink, it is not just individual titles that disappear from shelves but the diversity of voices, experiences and ideas that libraries exist to protect.