Unconscious Censorship of Social and Political Ideas in Children's Books Patrick Shannon (bio) Most often censorship comes in overt forms: a group seeks to limit the talking, viewing, listening, reading, or writing of others because it contains obscene, violent, or subversive ideas—all in the name of "right thinking." Accordingly, most criticism of censorship attacks this easy mark, in serious studies such as those that usually appear in this column, and in humorous lampoons such as Ogden Nash's "Senator Smoot (Republican UT.) Is planning a ban on smut" (37-38) or Tom Lehrer's "Smut, Give me smut and nothing but, a dirty novel that's uncut, and unsubt . . . le." But a study I conducted on the social perspectives in children's favorite books suggests that the most insidious form of censorship may be not overt at all, but rather a product of our (American) unconscious biases toward certain social and political ideas. Immanuel Kant subsumed the concerns of humankind under three questions: What can I know? What ought I to do? and What may I hope? These questions are fundamental to understanding censorship in America because they show us that it can be not merely the result of an overt act, but also, an unconscious consequence of the times in which we live. Kant's questions assume both individual autonomy and a common thread among us all. They empower us to reason and to act, but also to feel and to dream. They suggest that the world is problematic; that it can be transformed by our actions; for if this were not true, then why should we hope at all? And hope is the key here. During Kant's lifetime, to hope meant to reflect upon the ideas of absolute moral good and social justice. Several groups, recognizing that their societies were neither moral nor just, acted to bring reality into conformity with their hopes. Through these collective acts, many imperfect democracies were born. Kant's critical view of humankind proposes a world in which happiness is based on an essential moral character and in which injustice has disappeared. Since his time, material conditions have improved dramatically, to the point at which Kant's hopes are realizable. But we are far from drawing the Kantian conclusion for ourselves. Rather, we have begun to speak of humankind in a different fashion, and to remove hope from its collective foundations. With material prosperity has come a reorganization of life wherein the objective factors of society seem unalterable, and reason and action appear powerless in opposition. Because of population growth, technological development, economic centralization, and rationalization of public and private life, it appears that we are left only enough autonomy to choose among paths that others prescribe for us. In this materially robust world, the consequent isolation caused by these objective factors pervades social life, until it appears natural that individuals are totally separate entities within all circumstances and that individualism is the cause of our social order and material well being. Where once the word, "humankind," conjured up ideas of moral good, social justice, and collectivity, it now connotes biological data, passivity, and individualism. The ideas which were essential to the rebirth of human rights and democracy now seem to threaten their continued longevity. Today, these ideas in their historic form have been redefined: morality becomes a matter of personal preference, justice a question of protection of property, and collectivity a momentary association to achieve personal goals. We no longer ask ourselves, "What may I hope?" Rather we wonder "Am I better off?" As Lasch suggests, in fact, the historic ideas of moral good, justice, and collectivity become unthinkable as society celebrates the cult of the individual. In this context we can speak of censorship as an unconscious consequence of the times in which we live. Our way of life becomes a censor, as certain ideas are not even considered by most Americans. To many, the past has been redefined in current terms; the future is fixed; and Kant's hopes are hopeless. Thus, as Goethe told us, "The outward is inward," because we begin to rationalize our thoughts and actions to match the structure of our bureaucratic, business...