The Irony of Banning the Bible and Controversial Books in a World Full of Internet
Thanksgiving is a time for gratitude and connection, but it can also spark lively debates. This year, a conversation with someone I deeply respect—though we often see the world differently—left me reflecting on a topic I’ve been considering for a while: school library books and the Bible. The discussion began with Ohio’s approach to Bible education in public schools. I initially said, “That’s illegal,” assuming the idea of teaching the Bible would violate the separation of church and state. However, I quickly learned the situation was more nuanced than I’d realized.
The program, I discovered, involved off-campus, privately funded Bible instruction during school hours with parental consent (Ohio Capital Journal, 2024). While legal, the concept raised concerns for her. When I suggested that the Bible could simply be included (if not introduced) in school libraries under “fiction,” she rejected the idea outright, saying, “no.”
I understood her perspective and the concerns that come with it, especially for those who value a strict separation of religion and public institutions—a principle I strongly support, having felt deeply uncomfortable as a Christian minority in Japan. At the same time, I couldn’t help but notice the irony: her strong opposition to the Bible or any religious text felt, in some ways, as rigid and dogmatic as the very religious beliefs she resists. To dismiss a piece of literature outright, without engaging with its broader cultural significance, mirrors the kind of unyielding attitude often associated with religious dogma. It reminded me of how deeply complex and personal these conversations can be.
This interaction made me reflect on why I value biblical knowledge, even as someone who has moved beyond the religion of my upbringing. The Bible isn’t just a religious text—it’s a cornerstone of Western culture, shaping literature, art, music, and even everyday conversations. Without some familiarity with the Bible, one might miss references in works like Shakespeare or fail to grasp the symbolism in classic paintings, films, or music.
Phrases like “the writing on the wall” or “David and Goliath” come directly from the Bible. These aren’t just idioms—they’re cultural touchstones that help us understand themes of triumph, failure, and morality. My knowledge of these stories has allowed me to connect with people in the West, appreciate timeless works of art, and understand a deeper layer of cultural heritage. Growing up as part of the 0.2% Christian minority in Japan, I consider this knowledge an unexpected advantage, even though it came alongside an extremely strict upbringing and the weight of some harmful Christian dogmas.
This brings me back to the role of libraries. My daughter, like most teenagers, spends plenty of time on TikTok, claiming she “knows everything” (half-jokingly). But while I trust the critical thinking skills we’ve nurtured together, I can’t help but feel that reading anything—whether it’s a novel, the Bible, or controversial books—is often better than mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. Books invite deeper engagement with ideas, offering a chance to think critically, ask questions, and explore new perspectives.
That said, it wasn’t the Bible itself that led me to the Christian faith—it was the authority figures who framed it as divine truth. In fact, I believe that if I had encountered the Bible independently, I might have questioned the faith more deeply. By letting the Bible speak for itself, I might have laughed, scrutinized, and challenged it—exactly the kind of critical engagement I hope for my daughter and all children.
Today, school libraries are no longer the “universe” they once were for most children. The internet has expanded access to books and knowledge in unprecedented ways. In 2010, Google Books estimated there were approximately 129,864,880 unique titles worldwide (PCWorld, 2010). Since then, with an average of over 2 million new titles published annually (ISBNdb), that number likely exceeds 150 million. Add to that the sheer volume of blogs, articles, and other digital content, and it’s clear that children today have near-infinite access to ideas—more than we could have imagined.
The internet is also a great equalizer, often more affordable and accessible than clean water or a warm meal. With this abundance, I believe we should focus on three priorities for children’s futures:
Ensuring free internet access for all children, everywhere.
Teaching critical thinking to foster independent thought, not groupthink.
Encouraging resilience to navigate the overwhelming flood of information.
At the same time, I also recognize that “more” isn’t always better. Too many choices can overwhelm us, making it difficult to find what truly matters. In this sense, careful curation—whether of library books or online resources—could hold great value in guiding children toward knowledge and ideas that enrich their lives.
The tension between infinite access and careful selection is a paradox of our time. Perhaps the solution lies not in choosing one over the other but in finding a balance: embracing the limitless possibilities of the internet while thoughtfully curating the spaces where children begin their journey of discovery.
photo by Tracy Yang
Citations:
Ohio Capital Journal. "Released time religious instruction programs expanding." 2024.
King James Bible. Daniel 5:25-31.
PCWorld. "Google estimates there are 129 million unique books in the world." August 2010.
ISBNdb. "How many books are in the world?" 2023.
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