Is Reading a Banned Book an Act of Intellectual Bravery?

It all depends on what you already assume about the book

My first notion about the meaning and purpose of intellectual freedom was based on a more or less complete misunderstanding of the philosopher Voltaire’s thoughts on the matter. I read a one-sentence summary of them (first mistake!) by one of his biographers (Evelyn Beatrice Hall) which is often misattributed to Voltaire as a quote.

It goes:

”I disapprove of what you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it.”

I took the statement to mean that it was necessary to defend the right of idiots to express stupid, detestable, invalid, or “wrong” thoughts and opinions only in order to guarantee that smart, admirable, valid and “right” thoughts and opinions could and would be protected. Protecting all speech, was the price a society had to pay to create protection for obviously valuable speech. Wheat and chaff, baby. I heartily agreed!

It never occurred to my younger self — ace defender of the right of others to hold stupid, detestable, invalid or “wrong” ideas and opinions — to ask a very important question of my most magnanimous self: What if an idea that I thought inconceivable, harmful, dangerous, ridiculous, or otherwise invalid turned out to contain value or truth? How likely was it that in any moment I was likely to be “right” and able to discern validity and truth in all matters? How would I know if one of my own opinions, conceptions, or beliefs was in some way partly inaccurate or flat out wrong?

I realize that compared to more sophisticated censors (Federal Bureau of Twitter, cough cough), bona fide literal post-publication wannabe book banners are basically the Amish of thought police, sallying forth to try to control the transmission of ideas in their not-very-speedy horse and buggies (apologies to the Amish), and not very often.

Nonetheless, efforts are regularly mounted to keep books out of a library or bookstore, or off a reading or awards list. I appreciate that people vocally protest books targeted for “banning” and pin on buttons that read “I Read Banned Books”, and that something called Banned Books Week occurs once a year, but a part of the way the Week’s ritual is practiced and people tend to related to “banned books” in real life gives me pause.

Not the part of these practices that is about fighting to raise awareness of the benefits of the free circulation of ideas.

Not the invitation to celebrate the whistleblowers, visionaries, humanists, freethinkers throughout history who have expressed their opinions and ideas in the face of ridicule, punishment, threats of violence, and acts of violence. Their stories regularly bring me to my knees.

(I’m sorry the other doctors abused you so righteously, Dr. Semmelweis. Thanks for the washing hands with chlorinated water idea.)

(I’m sorry they burned your newspaper down Ida B. Wells. Thanks for refusing to shut up about the evil of lynching)

And certainly not reading “banned” or “targeted for banning” books as an act of solidarity with their authors, and with the people who identify with a book’s characters or value a book’s perspective.

What makes me pause and consider when reading a banned book counts as intellectually brave, and when it doesn’t, is the nature of many calls to read banned books. They often sound like this plea from author Jessica Herthel in the Guardian a few years ago when she urged people to “…celebrate Banned Books Week by picking up a book that some closed-minded person out there wanted desperately to keep out of your hands.”

Now maybe Herthel meant ANY book targeted by ANY “close-minded person” - just put them all in a sack, pick one out and read it, no matter how you feel about the topic it takes up or its perspective. And if she did, good on her. But these kinds of calls to action seem to most often focus on “rescuing” a book that the person raising the free speech banner already believes to have specific and qualitative value. “How dare you try to keep such an awesome book about veganism (something I’m 100% down with and already practice) out of the world’s hands!” And fair enough. We tend to notice when people and perspectives we value are being treated unfairly. The mistake perhaps lies in assuming that once we have read the book that the “other” wants to ban we have demonstrated intellectual bravery.

In such a scenario, are we really championing intellectual open-mindedness or just throwing elbows for “our team”? Do we really challenge our OWN intellectual limitations and prejudices by reading books that other people “want desperately to keep out of our hands” but with which we are already comfortable? Is choosing our daring reads from a list of books banned by other “close-minded” people the most intellectually brave or useful thing to do?

The impulse to try to “ban” books (take off reading lists, fail to purchase for libraries, stop selling on a platform), when not about naked political power maintenance) often arises from a cognitive habit that is near universal in humans: Resistance to genuine consideration of belief systems, ideas, theories and conceptions which by their very existence challenge the “obvious” “rightness” and “truth” of our own current views. This cognitive habit also effects when and under what circumstances we feel motivated to speak out on behalf of a book being targeted for some version of “banning”.

I wonder what would happen if we more routinely sought out books “banned” only by our own internal “censor”. The censor which steers us away from “that absurd perspective”, or “that dangerous view”, or the author “said to be” a moron. Is that not the ultimate point of not wanting books banned; to provide ourselves as thinkers with a rich diversity of perspectives on current affairs and perennial questions?

As the last three years have shown us (not that we needed more examples!), consensus is no guarantee of ethical or even scientific validity. Dissent is a precious resource. Personal humility about the possible limitations or “wrongness” of what we currently believe to be true and incontrovertible another.

What better way to keep our thinking nimble and frosty and demonstrate actual intellectual bravery than by reading the kind of book that has the potential to put our own intellectual rigidities and unexamined certitudes to the test. We could identify one controversial perspective that we find ridiculous, potentially destructive, or otherwise devoid of value, and seek out a book by an author who believes the perspective has value. A book that those who already hold the perspective hold in high esteem. No cheating by reading the least accomplished, most terribly presented version of the perspective.

We could each pick up a book that we probably wouldn’t notice if anyone banned.