The debate over books in schools isn’t really about protecting students. It’s about glorifying a progressive agenda
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In 2021, a Grade 6 and 7 teacher in Prince George, B.C., was disciplined by the provincial Teacher Regulation Branch for showing the 1962 film To Kill a Mockingbird, which was deemed “not age-appropriate” due to its themes of racism, rape and the use of racial slurs. Yet this same system allows the widespread use of novels with explicit sexual content and graphic depictions of violence.
The inconsistency raises an important question: Is censorship in schools about protecting students, or is it about advancing certain ideological narratives while suppressing others?
Take The Hobbit. This fantasy novel, widely considered suitable for young readers, was also flagged in Prince George. Perhaps the sight of Gollum shrieking for the ring is too intense for today’s emotionally fragile students. Or maybe it’s the dwarves nearly tumbling to their deaths that was deemed too harrowing. Either way, the book’s supposed inappropriateness is questionable when compared to The Kite Runner, a novel assigned to Grade 5 students in Surrey despite containing an anal rape scene. How can one school board justify banning To Kill a Mockingbird while another finds The Kite Runner acceptable?
 Schools push a progressive agenda while shutting out opposing views. |
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The contradictions don’t end there. While moral busybodies in some school districts take issue with The Hobbit, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time—which features multiple F-bombs and the phrase “s— my c—”—is embraced in North American classrooms. If profanity and adult themes justify banning To Kill a Mockingbird, why are The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and The Kite Runner still in circulation?
There was once a time when educators debated whether Shakespeare should be taught in schools due to its linguistic difficulty. Yet, despite the bawdiness of his works—such as the soldiers’ crude talk about taking women’s maidenheads in Romeo and Juliet—Shakespeare has endured. Now, however, we see a growing trend where literary classics are being purged, while explicit contemporary books, such as Gender Queer (which contains illustrations of gender-affirming surgeries and minors engaged in sexual acts) and Let’s Talk About It (which includes graphic depictions of masturbation and guides on how to send explicit text messages), are welcomed into the curriculum.
The most infamous of these is The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, which remains widely taught despite featuring the brutal rape of a young girl by her drunk father. If the goal is to protect children from disturbing content, then why is Morrison’s novel permitted while To Kill a Mockingbird—a book that actually teaches moral courage—is removed?
The problem isn’t just hypocrisy; it’s the deeper issue of who gets to decide what is “appropriate.” The Surrey School District removed To Kill a Mockingbird from its recommended reading list, arguing that modern books provide better ways to discuss race and discrimination. Meanwhile, in Prince George, The Hobbit is deemed problematic. School boards argue their decisions are made in students’ best interests, but the choices raise concerns about selective censorship.
Harper Lee, the author of To Kill a Mockingbird, would have argued that her book was meant for young readers. After all, its protagonist, Scout Finch, is only eight years old. Banning literature—especially books that challenge prevailing social views—does not educate students; it shelters them from history, critical thought and moral complexity.
John Milton addressed this very issue in 1644 in his essay Areopagitica, warning that censorship destroys the very foundation of reason: “As good almost kill a man as kill a good book; who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God’s image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God as it were in the eye.”
Perhaps, in an ironic twist, school districts should take a cue from authoritarian regimes like Saudi Arabia, where censors don’t ban books outright but simply black out offending words. That way, To Kill a Mockingbird could be kept on the shelves—just in a much shorter and less meaningful form.
Of course, we know the truth: The fight over books in schools is not about protecting children. It’s about controlling the narrative. If students are to be prepared for the real world, they should be exposed to the complexities of history, literature and human nature—not just the sanitized, ideologically approved versions handed to them by school administrators.
If the world is filled with dangers, students should be taught how to navigate them, not be sheltered from reality. Shielding them from difficult ideas only leaves them unprepared for the challenges they will inevitably face.
Jim McMurtry, a former teacher and principal, wrote a PhD dissertation titled A Case Against Censorship in Literature Education four decades ago. This commentary was submitted by the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.
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