It seems like a dubious claim – censorship can teach us about dialogue? It is far too ironic to be true and, yet I would like to propose that it is.

Over the past few weeks, I have been researching censorship, its history in the Church, its role in current and past events, and the way it is viewed by the Church today. While I began my research solidly in the “no banned books” camp, I have found that the reality is much more complex and nuanced than I understood. In fact, what I have discovered led me down a path away from extremes and towards a more central, balanced position. This journey required that I accumulate and gather various ideas. As I developed a more comprehensive understanding of how these ideas interact, I realized that the issue of censorship provides us with a model for dialogue that can be used to navigate many of the contentious issues that we face.

According to theologian Aurelie Hagstrom, censorship is “the restriction, by proper authorities, of intellectual, literary, or artistic materials in any format.” Her definition makes it clear that, while we often think of censorship in relation to the spoken or written word, it can be applied to fields of study and to any of the creative arts. According to Hagstrom, censorship has been occurring since the time of ancient Greece with Socrates being a famous target of early censors. In Roman times, an office of censor was established which eventually expanded its role to include not just keeping track of citizens for purposes of taxation and government functioning (hence the censuses we read about in the Bible), but also preserving cultural expectations and morals. Since that time, censorship has occurred in societies throughout the world and Hagstrom suggests its prevalence in history is due to its embeddedness in culture: through censorship, communities identify and preserve who they are, while ensuring that they avoid becoming what they are not.

In her analysis, Hagstrom makes a distinction between two types of censorship. She calls the first type of censorship “in house” censorship because it is conducted within a specific community with shared values and is enforced within this community. An example of this sort of censorship can be found in Biblical exhortations to shun and reject community members whose lives or teachings go against Jewish and later Christian beliefs. This sort of censorship often stems from a desire to protect the weakest members of a community from being led astray by incompatible information or ideas.

The second type of censorship is more external and directed towards protecting a community from the influence of the outside world. An early example of this can be found in the book of Acts when St. Paul gathered new believers in Ephesus to burn their pagan books. A more recent example can be found in, the Index Librorum Prohibitorum (Index of Forbidden Books), a list of books that Catholics could not own or read without permission from the Church. The Index was discontinued as recently as 1966. This form of censorship may protect the community from outside ideas, but it comes at the cost of limiting the impact that community members can have on the larger world. Still, this sort of censorship remains limited to those who exist within a specific community and those who are willing to be influenced by that community for financial or some other sort of gain. Consequently, it is limited in scope.

I suggest that there is a third type of censorship which impacts multiple communities with different beliefs and norms. This sort of censorship is imposed externally by a powerful entity – usually a government. In this type of censorship, the groups that are impacted do not share a common moral framework and are instead forced to conform to the ideas of the powerful censor. The banning of books from public school libraries and the exclusion of religious beliefs from public dialogue are good examples of this. It is on this form of censorship that this article focuses.

However, categorizing censorship into these three types remains inadequate, because they focus on the parties involved in censorship rather than the nature of the censorship itself. When viewed from this angle, there are four basic types of censorship: suppression and distortion of truth, suppression of intellectual and artistic products of a particular person or subgroup, filtering content to ensure that it upholds community standards and protects the vulnerable, and restricting content that is inherently harmful (such as pornography and works that exploit vulnerable people groups). Any censorship that involves the suppression and distortion of truth or the suppression of the intellectual and artistic products of a person or subgroup is always unacceptable, with the caveat that it may be preferable to conceal explicit details while refusing to suppress facts. This exception is based on the understanding that there can be a difference between content and facts. For example, while it may be appropriate to suppress the more graphic details of slavery in materials intended for certain vulnerable groups, it is inappropriate to censor the story of slavery and its wrongness all together. Pope Francis referenced a similar thought in his message to Catholic communicators this past January:

“Not all stories are good, yet they must be told. Evil must be seen to be redeemed, but it must be told well, so as not to wear down the fragile threads of coexistence.”

With these distinctions in mind, let us turn to the issue of censorship in settings where multiple communities with varying beliefs all fall under one authority.

To Censor

As we have touched on in this article, while the word censorship tends to leave a bitter taste in our mouths, it can play a vital role in protecting society. Consider, for example, movie and television ratings that allow viewers to filter the content they consume. This is a form of censorship, yet it is also a powerful tool for self-protection and the protection of families.

From this perspective, censorship is a means of helping individuals to avoid offensive or potentially dangerous content. When used in this way, it ensures that possibly objectionable ideas and content are not imposed on a particular group. For example, within my Christian community, treating sexuality in a respectful way within the context of marriage is an important value. However, this is not true for many other people living in my society. In fact, there are some communities that consider my values to be in opposition to their own. Does their difference in belief make it acceptable for myself and my children to be subjected to media that portrays casual or even violent and vulgar sex? Certainly not.

Pope Paul VI’s encyclical Dignitatus Humanae, says:

“The family, since it is a society in its own original right, has the right freely to live its own domestic religious life under the guidance of parents. Parents, moreover, have the right to determine, in accordance with their own religious beliefs, the kind of religious education that their children are to receive.”

Since our consciences are formed by what we read and watch, it is firmly within the rights of family and parents to restrict and avoid content that is contrary to their religious and moral beliefs. This is especially true in respect to content that is inherently harmful.

Dignitatus Humanae also states that “all men are to be immune from coercion on the part of individuals or of social groups and of any human power, in such wise that no one is to be forced to act in a manner contrary to his own beliefs, whether privately or publicly, whether alone or in association with others, within due limits.”  If this is true, then a compelling argument could be made that the production of implicitly harmful or potentially controversial material should not be supported by tax dollars, since taxes are mandatory and men should not be coerced to pay for something that goes against their beliefs. Obviously, this is a complicated issue to tease out – pacifists must pay taxes that support wars, for example – but it is a point worth debating and it is applicable here because not funding certain types of projects is a form of censorship since it inevitably suppresses these projects.

Pope Francis himself has suggested that there are limits to what types of communication should be allowed within the public sphere. In the wake of the 2015 attack on the Charlie Hebdo magazine, Pope Francis defended freedom of expression but said that “there is a limit.” He noted that certain types of inflammatory speech can provoke a predictably hostile and even violent response. The Holy Father encouraged us to recognize “You cannot provoke. You cannot insult the faith of others. You cannot make fun of the faith of others.” Importantly, his comments did not suggest that religious truth must be restricted.

The Holy Father’s remarks may seem foreign to Americans who are used to existing in an environment of almost completely unchecked freedom of speech, but they are likely much less surprising to Europeans who, given their not so distant past, recognize that the benefits of restricting hateful communication like Nazi salutes supersede the value of the freedom of expression. To impose such limitations is to censor, in this case for the good and protection of societies whose memories of WWII and fears of future similar atrocities are strong. Even most Americans accept certain limitations to their freedom of speech, though for most these limitations have minimal impact on daily life. For example, making violent, actionable threats will land even the freest American in a world of trouble. This is true even in my home state where the motto is, “Live free or die.”

We must not take the fears that often drive calls for censorship lightly since they can be reasonable and valid. The Decree on the Instruments of Social Communications that came out of the Second Vatican Council makes it clear that the media can either make humanity better or lead it to grief and evil. Thus, concerns about the impact of information and communication on our communities, families and children are not unfounded.

So, then, if the purpose of censorship is truly to protect and guard something that is more valuable than personal freedoms, an argument can be made for censorship. Consider, for example, the real fears that many parents have when it comes to their children’s spiritual (and sometimes even physical) safety at public libraries. Most Catholic parents, myself included, have been blindsided while reading aloud a book that contained unexpected content that they do not want to expose their children to. In these situations, parents may be uncomfortable but at least they are aware of the information that their children are learning and can help their children to understand it through the lens of their beliefs. This ceases to be true, however, when children begin to explore libraries on their own and can borrow books with their own cards. Thus, it is reasonable for parents to ask for accommodations to be put into place so that their children do not have access to harmful or objectionable content while they are away from their parents’ direct supervision.

Similarly, consider the reality that children can be exposed to inappropriate content even while playing seemingly innocuous computer games or watching children’s programs on YouTube. Is it right that children who are given an iPad to watch Daniel Tiger during their mother’s physical exam end up watching advertisements or video content that is unnecessarily scary or morally repugnant? Is it unreasonable to ask that filters be put in place so that advertisements and follow-up videos match the content of the video that a parent originally chose for their youngster? Is such censorship not common sense?

Or Not to Censor

Still, we have good reason to be fearful of censorship and to be wary about forfeiting any of our rights. Dignitatis Humanae made clear that “the freedom of man is to be respected as far as possible and is not to be curtailed except when and insofar as necessary,” and cautioned that “Many pressures are brought to bear upon the men of our day, to the point where the danger arises lest they lose the possibility of acting on their own judgement.” God Himself has given man free will, so it could be asked, “Who is man to restrict this freedom through censorship?”

Throughout history, the Church itself has been the victim of unjust censorship. From citizens of Rome to Catholics living in early protestant nations, faithful Catholics have often found that their very lives are endangered by laws that restrict the freedom of expression. This knowledge, gained through difficult experience, is why the USCCB has stated that “Government censorship across a broad range of media is not feasible under our constitution, nor is it desirable.” Our history as Catholics has taught us the very real dangers of censorship and we are wise to acknowledge them.

The issue is compounded by the historical reality that, as author and priest Jim McDermott, S.J. wrote, “Censorship is like lighting a fire. Once started, it tends to get completely out of control. There is no such thing as burning just one book.” In part, this is because there is no clear line delineating good, wholesome content from that which is dangerous. Harry Potter serves as a good example of this. Many genuinely faithful Christians consider the Harry Potter books to be classic works of fiction that can help to shape children’s consciences, not to mention their love of reading. Yet, there are also many other Christians who consider the portrayal of wizardry and witchcraft to be dangerous and potentially a gateway into the demonic. How do we know who is right so that we can determine whether the reading of Harry Potter should be allowed? It seems it would be best to leave such decisions up to individual families.

Another factor which contributes to censorship spinning out of control is that it often serves as a convenient cover for more sinister agendas. For example, according to America Magazine, in 2021, six out of the ten most frequently censored books were written by or about people of color. This is not because people of color write more dangerous books, but because too many of us consider people of color themselves to be dangerous. This pattern of banning books that feature members of minority groups plays out over the preceding years as well. By eliminating the knowledge gleaned from these books, attempts at censorship promote misunderstanding, ignorance, and stereotypes that further sideline already marginalized groups of people. As Pope Francis wrote,

“Free, responsible, and accurate information is a treasure of knowledge, experience, and virtue that must be preserved and promoted. Without it we risk no longer distinguishing truth from falsehood; without it we expose ourselves to growing prejudices and polarizations that destroy the bonds of civil coexistence and prevent us from rebuilding fraternity.”

The idea that censorship can disguise dangerous agendas was recently made clear to me by an exhibit at the Maltz Museum in Beachwood, OH. The exhibit, Degenerate! Hitler’s War on Modern Art explored the ways that the Nazi party restricted art under Adolf Hitler’s leadership. In the early 1920s, modern art was booming. Many artists had survived the brutality of WWI and used their art to work through some of the tragedies that they had encountered. Others, particularly those in Germany (a nation which continued to face economic challenges following the war), saw art as a way of exposing and addressing societal problems. Many artists became political activists, using their art to influence society.

“A Soldier in a Lunatic Asylum” by Conrad Felixmuller. His prints were stark expressions of social issues, many of which were used in the main communist newspaper in Germany. The Nazi government destroyed most of his work. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conrad_Felixm%C3%BCller#/media/File:A_-soldier_in_a_lunatic_asylum._Lithograph_by_Conrad_Felixm%C3%BCller.jpg)

Around this time, a man named Hans Prinzhorn collected art from patients at German asylums. His collection became a source of inspiration for modernists, including Max Ernst and Salvadore Dali. Charlie English, in his book The Gallery of Miracles and Madness – Insanity, Modernism, and Hitler’s War on Art, details how these modernists used art from the asylums to help them to understand humanity and the emotions that make human life so rich and complex. Tragically, this incorporation of art from psychiatric patients proved disastrous. The museum exhibit includes a quote from Max Nordau who wrote that modern art is

“The work of those so corrupted and enfeebled by modern life that they have lost the self-control needed to produce coherent works.”

This quote cemented the link between “degenerate art” and mental health in Nazi ideology. Ultimately, modernists’ “misperception” of the world was used to signify illness, deformity, and genetic inferiority. Cesare Lombroso’s proposed connection between genetic defects and hereditary criminals fueled the Nazi urgency to deal with such “degeneracy.” Eventually, Paul Schultze-Naumberg picked up on this theme and used racial theories as weapons against modern artists. He suggested that “healthy art” could only be created by the “racially pure.”

The exhibit at the Maltz Museum explains that, while such theorizing about the degeneracy of modern art was occurring, Hitler, a twice-rejected applicant from art school, embraced the idea that modern art was dangerous and indicated genetic inferiority. Interestingly, his own pursuit of an education in art ended in part because his works were too reality-based and looked “like postcards” rather than the emotive, exploratory art that intrigued the masters in the German art schools. This rejection of his own art seems to have triggered some of the virulence of Hitler’s hatred for modern art and there is more than a little bitterness in his quote, “Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized.”

But modern art posed more than personal concerns for a corrupt, totalitarian dictatorship. The activism and social critiques of modern artists inspired viewers to think deeply about their current situations rather than accepting them at face value. Consequently, they challenged a government that demanded absolute loyalty from its citizens.

Untitled Lithograph by Ludwig Meidner who began painting religious art related to his Orthodox Judaism. He was exiled during WWII. This image is in the public domain.

To manage this threat, the Nazis gathered and destroyed many works of modern art, banned some artists from continuing their craft, and dictated what other artists were allowed to create. Much of the art the Nazis collected was put on display as part of a “degenerate art exhibition” meant to publicly shame artists and incite the people against such creations of “depravity.” Under the direction of the Nazis, an unknown number of artworks were lost. The fate of the artists was often not much better: some artists became refugees or went into hiding, some, like Alfred Helberger, took their own lives, and others, like Elfriede Lohse-Wachtler, were committed to asylums. Once committed, people in Lohse-Wachter’s situation were often deemed “lebensunwertes Leben” (life unworthy of life), sterilized, and killed in the Aktion T4 program which served as a blueprint for the genocide of Jewish victims in the Holocaust.

“Self-portrait” by Alfred Helberger who commited suicide after the Nazi party banned his work from exhibitions and murdered his Jewish wife in a concentration camp. This image is in the public domain.

In this way, the consequences of censorship in Nazi Germany are personal for me. My husband’s great-grandmother died in a mental institution shortly after the German invasion of Czechoslovakia. At the time, the family was told that she died after jumping from a window of the institution. Based on genealogical research, however, it is quite possible that she was being treated in a hospital that we now know participated in the murder of those deemed “unworthy of life” through the Aktion T4 program. The fact that she lived on the border of the Sudetenland and the Czech Protectorate, the timing of her death, as well as her status as a widow who had no immediate family in the local vicinity, would all have made her a target for the Nazis because she, like some “degenerate artists,” was deemed “unworthy of life.” As a result of her death, my mother-in-law never knew her grandmother.

“Women in Front of the House” by Martel Schwichtenberg. Though she had sensed the coming storm and relocated to South Africa, Schwichtenberg was visiting a friend in Munich when WWII began. Stranded, she went into hiding until her death. This image is in the public domain.

Nazi censorship of modern art is a not-so-distant example of the ways in which censorship can spin out of control as it advances hidden, secondary agendas and restricts human freedom while promoting blind obedience and devaluing human life. It is obviously an extreme example, but this chapter of history rightly continues to evoke fear when the concept of censorship is raised.

Which brings us to another problem with censorship – it restricts the flow of ideas and knowledge, potentially restricting the formation of conscience and leaving people vulnerable to manipulation. In his Letter on the Role of Literature in Formation, Pope Francis explains why books are essential to spiritual formation in a way that only a true bibliophile can. He points out that reading can “open up new interior spaces,” enrich us and “help us to grow inwardly,” help us to understand and dialogue with culture, make us more compassionate, prepare us for future events in our own lives, open us to the full range of human emotions, challenge our world views, listen deeply, and seek deeper meaning in mundane experiences. He writes, “Literature helps readers to topple the idols of a self-referential, falsely self-sufficient and statistically conventional language that at times also risks polluting our ecclesial discourse, imprisoning the freedom of the Word.” All these things that literature does help to form our consciences and are essential to our growth as Christ’s people living in our modern world. But if we eliminate the voices of those who are different from us, then how will we learn to listen, be compassionate, and challenge our own perceptions?

In the document  Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, the USCCB says that part of the formation of conscience involves “examining the facts and background information about various choices,” but if censorship restricts our access to such information or actively distorts it, how can we examine it in a way that helps our consciences to mature? And if parents are not able to guide their children as they access and wrestle with various views and beliefs because such views and beliefs are restricted, then how are they to shepherd their children’s spiritual growth?

That Is the Wrong Question

So, we find ourselves at an impasse. On the one hand, there are strong reasons to censor information that is potentially dangerous to society or to groups within a larger society. We also recognize that all people deserve the freedom to prevent the invasion of objectionable material into their homes and minds. On the other hand, fears about limited freedom of expression are well-founded as has been evidenced throughout history – both globally and within the Church itself. Additionally, censorship can stunt the formation of conscience. This leaves us with the nearly impossible task of discerning and choosing the lesser of two evils.

But what if the question of whether a society should use censorship is not the question we should be asking? What if we asked instead how we can protect the most vulnerable in society from objectionable content while simultaneously maintaining freedom of expression and thought? What if we acknowledged the very real, very valid needs on both sides of the argument and developed solutions that, while compromises, satisfied both?

If we dared to imagine, could we develop rating systems that are like those we use for television and videos and use them to rate books, music, and even museum displays? Could we expand those rating scales to provide lists of specific controversial topics that are addressed so that parents can exercise their control more precisely within their own families while leaving the rights of other families to make different decisions intact? My children have library cards that limit their ability to use the computer or borrow DVDs without my permission. These restrictions were ones that I was able to choose to put in place when they received their cards. Could we expand the restrictions on library cards so that parents can decide what objectionable content they want restricted? Could we allow citizens to redirect their taxes from certain objectionable artistic projects and performances while allowing other citizens to continue to support them? Could we maintain a separate room in school libraries that can only be accessed with parental permission, much like the adult movie sections that used to be in the back of movie rental stores?

Yes, all these solutions demand ingenuity, effort, resources, and change. They also involve a form of censorship, but not the heavy-handed, top-down sort of censorship that so many of us fear. In fact, they make concerted efforts to preserve the freedom of individuals to access information while allowing them to control what they choose to consume.

To develop solutions that get us past the problem of censorship versus no censorship, we must dialogue with one another. We need to think about what we can do to lower the level of fear that drives the opposing side. We must ask “how will a particular decision impact those who disagree with me?” and once we have the answer, we need to charitably take those repercussions as seriously as we do the ones that we fear for ourselves. We need to ask how we want our concerns and needs to be addressed and ensure that we move forward in ways that treat all concerns and needs as equally important. We need to not just build bridges to help us connect with and understand one another, but to erect a common bridge that we can all use to get to a place where we are heard and our needs are mutually met.

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Featured Image: Google AI