Book banning or Book Bans — a practice as old as the printed word — is making a troubling return in the UK. What was once thought of as a relic of history is back in the headlines, with queer literature often finding itself at the centre of the storm. The question is no longer “Could it happen here?” but “Why is it happening again?”
A Legacy of Censorship
Britain’s history of banning books is long and uneasy, often tied to sexual “obscenity” laws. Radclyffe Hall’s The Well of Loneliness (1928) — a sympathetic portrayal of lesbian love — was swiftly banned for daring to exist, despite containing no explicit content. Havelock Ellis’s Sexual Inversion faced a similar fate in 1897, vanishing from English shelves for nearly 40 years.
Even in modern memory, Section 28 (1988–2003) cast a long shadow, banning local authorities from “promoting homosexuality.” While it didn’t target specific titles, it gutted library shelves of anything queer-positive for an entire generation.
Other classics faced the censor’s hand too: D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover endured a public obscenity trial in 1960, while James Joyce’s Ulysses remained banned until 1936.
The New Wave of Bans
Fast forward to today, and the bans are back — often quietly, sometimes loudly — with LGBTQ+ books in the crosshairs. A survey by Index on Censorship found that over half of UK school librarians had been asked to remove books. In most cases, the request came from parents, and in far too many cases, the books vanished.
Among the most targeted:
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This Book Is Gay — Juno Dawson
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Julián is a Mermaid — Jessica Love
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ABC Pride — Louie Stowell, Elly Barnes & Amy Phelps
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Heartstopper series — Alice Oseman
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Billy’s Bravery — Tom Percival
Some librarians have faced intimidation, even threats to their jobs, for resisting. In extreme cases, every LGBTQ+ book in a library was purged after a single complaint.
Quiet Censorship: The Bans You Don’t See
The most insidious trend? “Quiet censorship” — where books never make it to the shelf (a clandestine form of censorship), and book bans. Some authors have been told not to bring their own LGBTQ+ books to school events. In 2025, Kent County Council took further action, ordering the removal of all transgender-related children’s books from its 99 libraries.
Following the US Playbook
Many of these UK cases mirror US campaigns, where book challenges have hit record highs. This transatlantic influence, coupled with political rhetoric framing trans existence as “ideological,” has created fertile ground for censorship.
Fighting Back
Banned Books Week UK returns in October 2025
There is resistance. Banned Books Week UK returns in October 2025, rallying libraries, bookshops, authors, and readers. Groups like Index on Censorship, Stonewall, and the Society of Authors continue to push back, reminding us that libraries are for everyone — and that children exploring sexuality and identity are safer with accurate books than with the unfiltered internet.
The fight isn’t just about shelves. It’s about empathy, understanding, and the refusal to let fear dictate what people can know. As author Simon James Green put it, book banners trade in “hate and fear” — but the counter is “love and acceptance,” which, in the end, will win.
If Britain’s past teaches us anything, it’s this: the freedom to read is never permanently won. It must be defended, again and again.
Links:
- The Censorship Acceleration An Analysis of Book Ban Trends After 2020
- The Belfast Anarchist Collection, Just books
- Crescent Arts – Books Festival
- School Is In: LGBTQ Picture Books
- Firm apologises for saying it would not process LGBTQ+ payments
- Free speech row as National Library of Scotland bans book opposing gender self-ID after staff complained of ‘hate speech’
camaraderie, their interactions subtly revealing the way friendships can both protect and stifle.
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Ace hasn’t so much resolved as it has gently folded itself into you. It’s a story about connection as much as it is about fear, and about the fragile, human hope that the person you can’t stop thinking about might just be thinking of you too.
Now and then, a short film comes along that says more in 16 minutes than some features manage in two hours. Mrs. McCutcheon, directed by John Sheedy and co-written with Ben Young, is one such gem — a heartfelt, unapologetic embrace of childhood difference, gender identity, and the bravery it takes to simply be yourself in a world that prefers conformity.
‘El Paisa’ is a raw, heartfelt journey that vividly captures the vibrant pulse of East LA’s streets and the hidden layers of its communities. Fernando’s story—a gay goth skater navigating the shadowy corners of love and identity—resonates with an authenticity that speaks to anyone who’s ever felt torn between worlds. The film’s portrayal of his rescue by a stern vaquero isn’t just a plot point; it’s a powerful symbol of unexpected kinship and the breaking down of barriers.
There’s something elusive, almost spectral, about August (Août), Louis Thines’ short film about youth, identity, and the electric charge of uncertain desire. Like the haze of a sun-drenched French summer, it is beautiful to look at but often slips through your fingers the moment you try to hold onto it.
ased on a true story, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, the musical follows 16-year-old Jamie New from Sheffield, a young dreamer with a big heart, a supportive mum, and the courage to live authentically. His journey of self-acceptance reaches a climax when he prepares to attend prom dressed in a dress—a moment that celebrates identity, pride, and the power of being true to oneself. As Director James Huish emphasises, “Jamie isn’t just a musical; it’s a message about growing up, finding your tribe, and standing tall in your truth.” Lead actor Dara Setanta McNaughton sums it up perfectly: the story will resonate with any young person who’s ever 
felt like an outsider.
earsals buzzed with energy, and the cast—comprising talented young adults and seasoned performers from across Northern Ireland—delivered performances described as absolutely superb. The opening night was a hit, with audiences loving every moment.
On Saturday, July 26th, Belfast held its Pride March, with noticeably a lot of political parties and politicians missing, also a lot of employers, but there was still a large turnout, which you can see from the photos in this article.
Public visibility remains a vital act of defiance. Each year, as the city’s streets fill with colour and music, they also fill with stories — stories that challenge ignorance, dismantle prejudice, and foster understanding. Visibility is revolutionary in a city where silence once reigned, transforming the parade into a living, breathing testament to the power of being seen.
It’s not every day that a story finds you — especially one as moving and improbable as that of The Letter Men. But that’s precisely what happened to director Andy Vallentine. In his own words, he stumbled across the love story of Gilbert Bradley and Gordon Bowsher while scrolling online, yet what followed was no casual discovery. It became a deeply personal pilgrimage to honour lives lived in secret, with love expressed in ink but forbidden in the flesh.
This short gay film, Escapade, is a raw, unflinching portrayal of teenage rebellion and the desperate search for freedom—a stark mirror to the suffocating realities of home life. At just under 22 minutes, it delivers a punch of realism that hits hard from the opening scene on the bridge, capturing the turbulent emotions of 17-year-olds Quint and Thijmen as they clash with their oppressive parents.
Today, we must remember these stories—not as relics of the past, but as proof of an enduring struggle. We demand acknowledgement of those who dared to love in secret, who fought against the walls of repression—who, in their silence, roared resistance. The sodomy campaign was never just about criminality; it was about stripping us of our humanity, our right to love freely.