Freedom to Read: Why books should scare no one

By Lethbridge Herald on February 28, 2026.

MORNING JOE- Joe Manio Lethbridge Herald

Ever since Gutenberg unleashed mass-produced books on the world in the mid-1400s, someone, somewhere has been convinced it’s their duty to save the rest of us from them. Not from fires. Not from floods. From books.
Freedom to Read Week has concluded for another year, but the debates it sparks linger. It’s our annual reminder that the most dangerous object in the room can be a paperback with opinions.
Here’s a radical idea: you don’t have to like every book. You don’t have to approve of every book. You don’t even have to finish it. That is your right in a free society.
There’s one small detail often overlooked in these debates: it helps if you’ve actually read the book…the whole thing. Not a screenshot. Not a paragraph shared on social media with 47 angry-face emojis.
If you’ve read it and still dislike it? That’s your right. If you decide a particular title isn’t appropriate for your child? Also your right. Key words: “your” right. When personal preference turns into attempts to restrict everyone else’s access, that’s no longer personal taste. That’s censorship.
And when these groups lobby the government to give their preferences legal muscle, the situation approaches a really dangerous slippery slope. Decisions about what is “acceptable” are no longer private or local.
Freedom of thought and expression are rights most people take for granted — until they are visibly threatened by those who want to control them.
Across North America, books have been challenged or removed from libraries for reasons ranging from sexual content and LGBTQ+ themes to racial issues, language, and violence.
Titles such as The Handmaid’s Tale, The Hate U Give, and To Kill a Mockingbird regularly appear on challenged lists. Even the wildly popular Harry Potter series has been a frequent target.
Yes, even the boy wizard.
Harry Potter has been challenged by people who have never read it, merely objecting to the presence of witches, wizards, and magic; as if depicting something is endorsing it. By that logic, mystery novels promote murder and spy thrillers double as recruitment brochures.
The rationalizations follow a familiar script: “It’s inappropriate. It’s harmful. It doesn’t reflect our community values. We must protect children.”
Protecting children is appropriate and librarians already curate age-appropriate collections. That’s their job. But “inappropriate” and “harmful” are subjective and “community values” are not uniform. What unsettles one family may resonate deeply with another.
Literature has always grappled with difficult themes. Even the Bible, a sacred text for millions, includes murder (Cain and Abel, Genesis 4:8), incest (Lot and his daughters, Genesis 19:30–36), and vividly romantic poetry (Song of Solomon 7:2).
Acknowledging these themes doesn’t diminish its spiritual significance. It illustrates that context, interpretation, and maturity matter. Complex content does not automatically make a book unfit.
Books are not instruction manuals, but invitations to think. Sometimes thinking is uncomfortable. That discomfort is often the point.
Stories explore racism, sexuality, violence, identity, and injustice because they exist. Shielding young people from difficult subjects does not prepare them for the world; it narrows their understanding of it.
Public libraries are not in the business of endorsing ideas. They provide access. A book’s presence on a shelf is not a moral stamp of approval, but acknowledgement that diverse readers will make different choices.
Freedom to Read week has never been about forcing anyone to read something they object to; but defending the principle that ideas in a free society are debated, not removed because some find them objectionable.
You’re free to re-shelf a book that’s not for you. Just don’t confuse personal choice with the authority to decide no one else can read it.
History offers sobering reminders of where suppressing ideas can lead. Book burnings didn’t begin with flames; but with the conviction that certain stories were too dangerous to exist.
The irony? Attempts to ban books often boost their popularity. Nothing drives readership like controversy.
Here’s a modest proposal until next year’s Freedom to Read Week: exercise your freedom. Read widely. Read critically. And if a particular title isn’t for you, simply move along.
In a free society, the real power isn’t in banning books.
It’s in choosing for yourself.