Canadian Public LIbraries and the Democratic Belief

The ‘Library Faith’ in Books, Reading, and Democracy

A longstanding belief in the positive influence of the public library in 20th-century North American librarianship was encapsulated in the short term, ‘the library faith,’ a visionary construct best articulated in an examination of public library service commissioned by the American Library Association (ALA), the Public Library Inquiry, which published its research from 1947 to 1952. The Inquiry developed this descriptive model of prevailing beliefs guiding the evolution of public libraries to understand and interpret the past in a structured way. Modelling can be helpful in identifying central ideas, beliefs, and opinions during an era when a prevailing consensus exists within a conceptual framework. The extensive Inquiry study noted that librarians, indeed, many educators and political leaders, believed in the beneficent power of books and reading. Ideally, the library, as a responsible democratic institution, provided free access to printed resources of recreation and knowledge to every person in its community. In this process, the libraries contributed to the democratic value of life by offering selected sources of knowledge for personal growth and an informed citizenry to make sound judgements in public affairs. The tax-supported public library also served broader social and cultural functions by preserving and organizing printed knowledge for its communities and, ultimately, for the nation. Libraries and librarians were a positive force in an effort to transform individuals and society for the better through the power of reading. The library faith was interwoven with democratic structures and ideals: free library access, the appetite for public reading, the freedom to exchange ideas and opinions, permissive library legislation, government tax support, and the power of knowledge to contribute to the betterment of society.

However, the Inquiry concluded that libraries too often failed to achieve the ideals described in the library faith, such as being a centre of popular education. The reality of everyday library services in 1950, including a limited clientele that read serious books, public apathy, the exclusion of many citizens, a lack of funding, and regional inequities, revealed an institution that did not (and could not) live up to its humanistic articles of faith identified in the Inquiry. For librarians and library users, the library faith was a guiding spirit—a virtue—rather than an everyday reality. Censorship was a common feature in libraries where objectionable books were not purchased or safely relegated to restricted shelves. Many citizens were either not eager readers, preferred ‘lightweight’ literature, or were excluded unjustly. In fact, many American communities were without library services. The Inquiry advised that the library faith was still relevant as a guide for developing services, but less useful as an argument to secure public support. Instead, libraries should fashion clear, uniform statements about the public library’s purpose.

It is axiomatic that democracy means the ‘rule of the people.’ Free and fair elections give expression to the ‘will of the people’ that provides the basis of the authority of government. But there are conflicting viewpoints concerning priorities and perspectives about the use of power and  the actual desires of citizens. Fundamental civil liberties protect against government interference: freedom of speech and the press, freedom of assembly or association, freedom of worship, and equality before the law. Yet, the public regards many civil rights that provide equal treatment under the law as equally important, such as the right to vote and hold free and fair elections, protection from discrimination, various rights of persons before the law, and the right to a public education. In Canada there are a host of problems besetting representative liberal democracy, issues such as blatant racism, discrimination, suppression of minority rights, sexism, alienation, government transparency, hatred, violence, and political corruption. In this environment, educational concerns and the freedom of expression and thought have been central issues in library history. The traditional democratic library role, as expounded by promoters and librarians, has encouraged people to think for themselves and helped them become enlightened citizens. Democracy requires people who understand and believe in its principles and institutions and are determined to work together to preserve, criticize, and improve it as the public interest evolves. Over the course of time, the library’s collections have served as an educational resource, informing citizens, circulating useful knowledge for self-improvement, and incorporating immigrants into the life of the nation. These are desirable roles for fostering and maintaining an educated citizenry in a democracy. But one might question whether an ‘informed citizenry’ is a necessary condition for a democracy or simply wishful thinking.

No comparable national study to the Public Library Inquiry occurred in 20th-century Canada. Even so, there are numerous statements after 1900 that document the commitment to the idealism embodied in the model outlined in the ‘library faith.’ An insightful thesis by John Wiseman in 1989 cited the metaphorical concept of ‘temples of democracy’ to describe the aspirations of Ontario library promoters to bring literature free of charge to the public before 1920. John Hallam and John Taylor, the enthusiastic champions of the free library established in Toronto in 1883, spoke to the need for an intelligent and enlightened populace. Hallam stated, “I know of nothing more useful, nothing more genuinely ornamental or creditable to a community, than the possession of a good free library, by means of which may be enjoyed the productions of the finest minds.” Taylor outlined the progress of public libraries in the United States, and opined: “We cannot, of course, compare Toronto with such cities as Boston and Chicago, but surely we should not be outdone by every small manufacturing town in New England in the matter of intelligence.” 

Ideally, the library was maintained and belonged to the people who benefited equally from the minds of the past through books, newspapers, and journals. In the early development of Canadian free public libraries, successful library referendums on bylaws reflected the ‘will of the people’ who often accepted the underlying utilitarian argument that free access to books in public libraries produced a greater amount of well-being for a greater number of people. When Hamilton ratepayers voted to establish a public library in 1889, the Hamilton Spectator editorial summed up the matter concisely: “It will make the people better able to govern themselves.” The requirement for local plebiscites followed by municipal bylaws to establish public libraries was a standard feature of public library legislation into the second half of the 20th century, augmented by provincial government decisions to convert older mechanics’ institutes and association libraries into public libraries.

But the rationale for tax-supported libraries and adequate accommodation for services was sometimes rejected by electors, as in two large Canadian cities, Kingston and Halifax. At Kingston, on 24 September 1899, the Whig-Standard editor complained, “The libraries have not been doing adequate public service, intellectually and as a source of moral recreation. There is a great want in the line of profitable resort [resource] and ready reference.” In Halifax, on 5 November 1912, when the issue of establishing a municipal public library arose at a town hall meeting, library supporters were defeated despite requisite democratic oratory from the noted suffragist, Dr. Eliza Ritchie, the first Canadian to receive a PhD (Cornell University). The Evening Mail reported: “She defined the aim of the citizens’ library as distinctly democratic—that of providing all citizens with the literature they need or desire. It is FOR THE PEOPLE.” Kingston (1925) and Halifax (1951) continued to resist tax-supported public library service with suitable buildings for many years.

The Democratic Conviction in Canadian Librarianship before 1940

Canadian librarians often relied on the persuasive power of democratic rhetoric to advance the cause of public library development, especially in times of war when the founding principles of democracy faced the prospect of suspension. At the 1916 annual ALA meeting at Ashbury Park, New Jersey, an astute promoter of libraries from Toronto, Edwin Austin Hardy, the secretary of the Ontario Library Association (OLA), told his American audience:
The dynamic of library work is the vision of democracy in the coming years. The present giant struggle will leave no nation untouched. One result will be the rush to North America of millions of new population. Another result will be the recasting of the federal relations within the British Empire. Another will be the revision of the international relations of all the great powers. Who can be sufficient for these mighty tasks of the future? An enlightened and ennobled democracy, of sound knowledge, wide sympathy and broad vision can render the highest service in the great days to come. The United States and the Dominion of Canada must be such democracies and the librarian must rank alongside the teacher, the legislator, and the preacher in the making of the new world.

In 1918, another prominent librarian, Mary J.L. Black, told her OLA colleagues:
If a library is not an embodiment of democracy and universal in its service, it is not fulfilling its functions. As a democratic institution the public library stands alone. In it, the scholar and ditcher, the school boy and the society dame are on an equal footing, and service should be rendered them accordingly. In it, the monetary relationship does not exist, for the public are only coming to their own, and if it does not contain material that is of special interest to each one of them, then they indeed have a grievance.

She was not alone in espousing the value of free access to resources. Another early instance was a presidential speech by Helen Gordon Stewart, Victoria Public Library, to the Pacific Northwest Library Association in Spokane, 1921.
There is no way of telling truth from error, but the best test of the power of a truth is to get itself accepted in free competition in the market place, and the Public Library should be the intellectual market place of every community. Democracy needs all the ideas it can get, and a stuffed press or a stuffed library, instead of safeguarding civilization, lead to atrophy and decay.

The democratic theme, coupled with the power of reading, was a key argument to establish public libraries. In 1927, when Canada celebrated its sixtieth anniversary by asserting its national identity more confidently, the Fort William (now Thunder Bay) library entered a parade float with the popular verse, “Books are keys to wisdom’s treasure.” This phrase came from a short rhyme by the American author, Emilie Poulsson, which included another expression librarians often employed to draw attention to entertaining literature: “books are gates to lands of pleasure.” When economic conditions worsened in the 1930s and threatened the economic livelihood of many people, librarians reinforced their ties with democratic ideals and public education. Foremost was George Locke, chief librarian of Toronto Public Library, who declared in 1933, “It is as necessary to provide for adult education as for elementary education, and so the library and the school are necessary for the perpetuation of democracy.” Locke and Mary Black, together with John Ridington, included multiple references to democracy in their Carnegie financed commission survey of libraries published in 1933, Libraries in Canada. They put the case for the public library:
The realization that, by ten thousand people each paying the cost of a single book, to be kept available for all in a general collection, each contributor would have access to ten thousand volumes, long ago commended itself to general public judgment as a worthwhile piece of co-operation. This realization is the foundation on which the public library is built—and that foundation is as broad and as strong as democracy itself. (p. 9)

They also contended that the library’s resources for reading were a force for personal development and societal good:
...if it is recognized that no one can be educated without books, it inevitably follows that a government should put libraries in the same class with schools, making both compulsory. This contention rests on the basis that modern thought realizes that education of all the people is necessary to the preservation and the permanence of a democratic form of government. (p. 135)

Yet the democratic spirit did not appeal to everyone, and successes were few outside major cities. As the 1933 survey admitted, three-fourths of Canada’s population of 10,500,000 were without public library service of any kind at a time when the rise of ruthless authoritarian regimes threatened the tenets of democracy itself. The depression era devastated national economies on a global scale, thereby halting opportunities for library growth. Cooperative partnerships were one solution with the development of regional library systems through local referendums, being most evident in British Columbia. The American economist, Alvin S. Johnson, reinforced another response in 1938. He authored The Public Library—A People's University, giving greater currency to an earlier phrase, and he devoted an entire chapter to “The Public Library in a Democracy.” He called upon librarians to be more proactive in educating adults to be knowledgeable citizens, to go beyond book lending and to withstand pressure to provide ephemeral publications. The phrase gained popularity with librarians, but the outbreak of war dimmed immediate prospects for improvement.

Changing Perceptions after 1940

The Second World War was a struggle for freedom and a dramatic period of change for Canada and America. During the war, Canada emerged as a prosperous nation by producing weapons, ships, airplanes, vehicles, and agricultural products for itself and for its allies. Canadians realized that peaceful international relations were vital for their security and came to regard the United States as their primary ally. In May 1940, the Librarian of Congress, Archibald MacLeish, issued an influential paper to ALA members that argued librarians should become stronger agents of democracy and assume a more vital role in civic life. Earlier in March, at the annual OLA conference, the president, Kathleen Moyer Elliot, addressed the theme of ‘The Library and the Community,’ stressing interaction with people and suggesting a refashioning of the ‘library faith’ by placing more emphasis on community involvement.
But while Books for People as a fundamental purpose of libraries has remained unchanged through the years in which both the character and the care of book collections have changed greatly, the emphasis has shifted. Once it was on Books, now it is on People.
Liberal librarians, believing in the importance of the individual, encouraging every man to read as widely as he will and form his own opinions, are defenders of democracy.

In 1941, a few leaders formed a small national body, the Canadian Library Council, to expedite progress in the library field. It issued a pamphlet, Canada Needs Libraries, in 1945, stating that the library possessed resources and educative and recreational potential for all ages. In short, “it has a very special part to play in the life of the community which no other agency can fill.”
...the information and enlightenment oi the people of Canada from printed sources is a vital force in the growth of the intelligence, character, economic advancement, and cultural life of the nation. An adequate supply oi books should be available to all citizens, whatever their geographical location or economic status.

In a review of Canadian trends for the Wilson Library Bulletin in November 1944, a Windsor librarian, Eleanor Barteaux, reiterated confidence in the beneficial association of books and democratic well-being that librarians were attempting to achieve.
Librarians know from past experience that when this war is over, there will be an abnormally large demand for library service of all kinds in all the provinces. Upon this postwar library, in a country where democracy is the way of life, must fall the task of providing the materials for continuing education and intellectual recreation for an enlightened citizenry.

In another booklet, The Public Library (1944) by Angus Mowat, the inspector of public libraries for Ontario, also outlined of a broader vision—the value of libraries to communities and organizations. By developing reliable resources for carrying on more active adult education programs with other agencies, public libraries could become “an essential sinew in the body of community life.” He said,
The free public library belongs to the community and it is supported by the community, just as the school, fire, and police services are supported. This is the normal and intelligent practice in a democracy. Not all libraries are successful but the free public library has an infinitely greater chance of success than has the association library.

Another cornerstone of the library faith came under scrutiny by John Grierson, the dynamic Commissioner of the National Film Board of Canada from 1939–45. The NFB had produced a documentary, the Library on Wheels, in 1944, demonstrating how bookmobiles could serve twenty rural communities in the Fraser Valley region of British Columbia. In an address to American and Canadian librarians at Buffalo in June 1946, Grierson warned, “the old library outlook is over and done with.” He challenged the primacy of the book and the passive role of simply circulating resources and dispensing information. He suggested librarians adopt new methods to spread popular education by reaching out to community organizations and being more proactive beyond the confines of library buildings. 
I do not say that the day of the book is over, but the day of the book only is certainly over. It is not information that is needed today; in fact, it is not information that is sought. It is enlightenment, and that is a very different thing involving, as it does, the dramatic process of sparking the mind and the heart into new hope, new vision, new realization, and new efforts in citizenship.
You can no longer think that the work is done if the information is made available or even conveyed. The work is not done until we spark the gap between the citizen and the world of his citizenship, bring into his imagination the great and beneficent struggle of man which we see today, and finally secure his creative participation in that struggle.

Writing in the Canadian Forum in July 1946, Nora Bateson, a champion for regional library development, argued for the need to employ modern methods of communication to reach rural communities, nonusers, and underserved groups. She reflected on the value of the older concept of using books to edify the public:
In less turbulent days it was another function of the library that was usually put first and it is still as important as it ever was: the enriching of individual lives in a thousand quiet ways. In literature, art, philosophy, science, history, many find their delight and refreshment. One of the more tangible effects of such reading is that it makes people live more fully, enables them to see more and deeper meaning in their own lives and experiences. And the largest possible number of fully developed individuals is the aim of any robust democracy.

Library recruitment, 1945

 As the national population grew and the pace of life picked up in postwar Canada, public libraries sought to expand their range of services. The establishment of new regional systems and library outreach were noticeable features. More effort was made to reach non-users (the majority) or underserved rural populations. Public relations, attendance at community events, in-house film festivals, park programs, partnerships with groups, work with hospitals, and delivery of books to people with disabilities. Libraries placed greater emphasis on language resources and sponsored classes for immigrants because ‘New Canadians’ sought assistance in their new homeland. The concept of the library as a major hub for community activity beyond book lending was taking a firmer hold. It became a place where adults and children could discover books, films, radio programs, recordings, educational television broadcasts, or newspapers, thus satisfying their desire to learn. It was becoming in the popular parlance, a people place, and the University of Toronto created a recruitment poster with an expression that took hold: “You like people, you like books.” In 1949, the Canadian Library Association (CLA) inaugurated Young Canada’s Book Week to promote good reading, cultivate personal values, and introduce children to Canadian literary authors. The Book Week national campaign unabashedly aimed to inspire a love of reading by connecting children with authors and illustrators through communal events, such as essay and poster competitions.

In a conservative era, the older reliance on the enlightening power of books and the democratic theme retained some currency in library thinking. When the Canadian Library Association issued Suggested Standards of Service for Public Libraries in Canada in 1955, the National Librarian, William K. Lamb, introduced the guidelines using a familiar theme:
In the world in which we live, adequate library service is becoming more and more vital. Few institutions can make a greater contribution to democracy than an adequately staffed and equipped public library. It offers wide opportunities for general education, ready access to books expressing varied points of view on questions of the day, vocational help of many kinds, books on all sorts of hobbies and handicrafts, and a wide range of recreational reading. It can help to make our working hours more effective and successful, and to ensure that leisure time is passed in some pleasant and socially desirable way.
Nevertheless, the brief purpose statement in the 1955 standards did not reference a democratic theme. It relied on the utilitarian principle: “the basic purpose of public library service is to provide a sufficient number of books of quality, so housed and organized, and with their use so promoted, that they reach the greatest possible number of people, thus making their local contribution to the education and to the cultural growth of the community.”

Informed Citizenship through Intellectual Freedom

Through the 1950s and 1960s, reliance on the efficacy of books diminished as it became evident that libraries were avoiding the selection of objectionable or controversial literature that some citizens would prefer to borrow or consult. In 1951, the newly formed OLA Intellectual Freedom Committee tendered a resolution, which was successfully passed at the general meeting, requesting that the CLA adopt a Canadian Library Bill of Rights that all Canadian libraries might embrace. But the proposal was not acted upon: librarians were reluctant to investigate self-censorship in book selection. In principle, the CLA opposed official censorship. In April 1953, the association forwarded a brief to the Senate Special Committee studying ‘salacious and indecent literature’ criticizing the prohibitive government approach used to censor books. The prevailing attitude to book selection often crystallized around the mindset that the antidote for bad books was good book selection and the establishment of more libraries across the country to supply acceptable literature. The 1955 CLA Standards provided a succinct summary: “A high quality of book selection is assumed.”

The practical matter of localized adult services and programs for groups resonated more strongly, driven by planned community needs and cooperation with other agencies. Librarians were more inclined to curtail interest in individual ‘readers’ advisory’ work and emphasize literacy and basic lifelong adult education programming. The promotion of an enlightened citizenship and assistance in realizing democratic ideals was melded with more functional, systematic goals as specialized services developed. The formal expression of these trends appeared in the revised CLA standards of 1967, which provided an expanded statement of the purpose and objectives of a Canadian public library:

1. To provide opportunity and encouragement for continuous education for every individual in the community—children, young people, men and women.
2. Through guidance, stimulation, and communication of ideas, to promote an enlightened and enriched citizenry.
3. To assemble, preserve and administer in organized collections the library's print and non-print materials to support the educational, cultural and recreational program of the community.
4. To provide an accurate, reliable information service.
5. To support and co-operate with groups and organizations in the community in presenting educational and cultural programs.

But the most important change in library thinking for engaging an informed citizenry came with the CLA’s adoption of a statement in support of intellectual freedom in 1966. There was growing realization that public libraries sometimes acted as an obstacle to free democratic debate and open expression of ideas precisely through the composition of collections and delivery of services. Canadian librarians had not been outspoken advocates in resisting censorship until they adopted the precept that access to the broadest range of ideas coupled with the rights of readers was essential in a democratic society: “Intellectual Freedom comprehends the right of every person (in the legal meaning of the term), subject to reasonable requirements of public order, to have access to all expressions of knowledge and intellectual creativity, and to express his thoughts publicly.”

For decades, Canadian librarians had been reluctant to uphold freedom of expression and thought formally. They adhered to restrictive ‘community standards’ and believed the perfunctory lending of good books and reliance on democratic rhetoric would suffice to improve society and validate the library’s standing as a fundamental service. Intellectual freedom was a significant accomplishment of librarianship that linked libraries more closely to democratic freedom of expression, thought, and opinion by supporting the lawful diffusion of ideas and information without restriction. It had evolved in part from the beliefs associated with the ‘library faith,’ but moved far beyond its simpler comforts. Into the 21st century, the contribution public libraries make to offer citizens access to all points of view continues to be considered a vital component in supporting and encouraging democracy. 

My previous blogs are available on John Hallam and John Taylor.

The blog on the 1966 CLA intellectual freedom statement is at this link.

The blog on the 1933 Libraries in Canada commission is at this link.

My blog about the Canadian Library Council’s Canada Needs Libraries (1945).

My blog on the issue to counter undesirable literature in postwar Canada is at this link. 

Contested Spaces: A Critical History of Canadian Public Libraries as Neutral Places, 1960–2020

Contested Spaces: A Critical History of Canadian Public Libraries as Neutral Places, 1960–2020 by Whitney Kemble. Sacramento, CA: Litwin Books & Library Juice Press, 2024.

Whitney Kemble, a librarian at the Scarborough Campus of the University of Toronto, has contributed an important work in the growing field of ‘critical librarianship’ about the contentious issue of ‘library neutrality’ in public library event bookings from 1960 to 2020. She has identified thirty-three controversial events held in Canadian public libraries using various resources, such as contemporary newspaper articles. Although eight gatherings were cancelled, the vast majority of events took place. There are too many episodes to discuss in this review; still, readers will likely remember more recent events, such as the 2017 cancellation by Ottawa Public Library of the controversial film, Killing Europe, which examined terrorist activities, street riots, a migrant crisis, and societal polarization. Another instance was Meghan Murphy’s 2019 presentation on gender identity at Toronto Public Library’s Palmerston branch, which sparked notable opposition from LGBTQ organizations. Her event did take place with protestors outside the branch and it highlighted different perspectives on TPL’s adherence to intellectual freedom (IF). Older readers likely remember Mississauga’s cancellation of its 1978 screening for the BBC film, The Naked Civil Servant, a depiction of a man’s gay lifestyle that was ‘ahead of its time,’ at least for the library board that countermanded the original decision to hold the event.

What do we learn from all these Canadian experiences? Defining neutrality in a liberal democracy is difficult—in Contested Spaces, we find references to ideas like impartiality, absence of bias, equality or equity of treatment, tolerance, even-handedness, objectivity, and indifference. Since the 1960s, librarians have been particularly vocal about embracing neutrality or fostering social responsibility in a community context. There is a tension in the neutrality-advocacy debate regarding librarian proactiveness rather than passivity or indifference on societal issues. The traditional stance supposes that the public library uncritically dispenses information or avoids inappropriate influence or improper advice. This philosophy was evident a century ago in  March 1919 when George Locke, TPL’s chief librarian, told the Toronto Star, “If people have enough intelligence to look on the two sides of the question they will have enough to know how to act, and our public libraries here teach this.” But of course, on certain societal values, such as literacy, racism, poverty, social justice for disenfranchised minorities, and the very nature of democracy, libraries cannot be value-neutral. I believe attaining neutrality is a laudable goal, but an unattainable ideal.

Indeed, the author concludes that the stance of IF adopted by Canadian library associations since the 1960s can be problematic. This policy maintains the right to hold, receive, and disseminate all points of view without restrictions, but, as Kemble notes, “the values of safety, inclusion, and diversity regularly are trumped by the values of intellectual freedom and freedom of expression in libraries” (p. 130). For many librarians, a neutral stance is necessary to maintain IF because this enables individuals to form their own ideas. The author critiques the ‘myth of neutrality’ and questions the prioritization of IF above other library core values, for example, social justice or social responsibility. For her, “community, relationships, and protecting those who are most vulnerable are the values I prioritize personally...” (p. 138).

Although the author links main opposition to neutrality with the formation of the American Library Association (ALA) Social Responsibility Round Table (SRRT) in 1969, to be sure, library neutrality was an issue even before the ALA adopted its Bill of Rights in 1939. This bill emphasized unbiased book selection, a balanced collection, and the statement that “library meeting rooms should be available on equal terms to all groups.” At the time, the ALA’s short-lived Progressive Librarians’ Council (est. 1939) opposed the concept of neutrality, a challenge renewed in the 1990s when the independent Progressive Librarians’ Guild formed in the United States and opened chapters in Canada. To be truly progressive, one must believe in the need to redress social inequities and de-prioritize neutrality. Many American librarians believe the SRRT falls short in this regard because its voice is muted in a large bureaucratize organization devoted to many interests.

Also, concerning value-neutrality, it would have been helpful for Kemble to touch on the growing influence of the New Public Administration (NPA) theory that developed in the United States after the 1960s. Since this time, public managers in North America at all levels of government have given more emphasis to social equity alongside the more traditional concept of social equality. Equity recognizes that different levels of support for persons or groups should be provided to achieve fairness in service outcomes. Equality seeks to treat people in the same way regarding opportunities or rights, with less regard for their needs or differences. The two ideas overlap, but there is a difference between practicing ‘fairness’ and ‘sameness.’ The NPA deemphasized neutrality and stressed the ethical responsibility of public servants to stand against injustice and advocate for marginalized communities. Yet, this theory is rarely mentioned in the library literature.

Citizens’ Forum discussion at LPL, 1945

Fittingly, in terms of social responsibility, Kemble begins her history with the London Public Library’s 1960 decision to screen the American film, Iron Curtain Lands, in a park. Not surprisingly, at the height of the Cold War, some people objected to this post-Stalinist documentary. On this occasion, the event was postponed and rescheduled for viewing without further problems. London had been a leader in organizing and sponsoring events with groups since its new modernist-style library opened in 1941, featuring rooms and an auditorium for use by the public. The postwar era was an era of community based groups and clubs devoted to photography, books, National Film Board viewings, citizens’ forums, women, youth, music, fraternities or sororities, and a host of other local associations. Librarians were beginning to give more attention to community concerns rather than focusing on individuals.

However, the 1960s would introduce new social movements on a national and even international scale, focusing on nuclear disarmament, feminism, animal rights, environmental concerns, pro-life advocacy, civil rights, and bilingualism. These organizations formed local groups and emphasized contentious issues related to identity, human rights, free expression, and broader social problems, such as poverty. The tried-and-true adoption of neutrality allowed many librarians to believe they were insulated from controversial subjects comparable to career public servants. But in April 1962, their reticence was called out by a keen observer, J. Bascom St. John, in the Toronto Globe & Mail: “They have a mistaken idea that professional ethics in the book field requires them to preserve a discreet silence, or at any rate, a virtual inaudibility. There are a few welcome exceptions to this generalization, but what librarians need more than anything else is a new concept of dignity. Dignity is not submission; it is pride. It is not a masterful withdrawal, it is an absolute determination to be heard and respected.” It was in this societal environment that IF statements were finally adopted by library associations in Ontario (1963) and Canada (1966). These statements were primarily concerned with book selection and free expression, but the Canadian Library Association statement added the responsibility of libraries to facilitate “the right of expression by making available all facilities and services at their disposal.” IF was a step towards librarians seeing themselves as part of a social process of educating citizens by offering a wider range of resources and views.

Contested Spaces charts various issues that have challenged or bedevilled library authorities across the country for more than half a century: anti-communism, LGBTQ rights, environmental activism, Indigenous identity, anti-Muslim prejudice, drag queen story times, and anti-vaccine protestations, to name a few. Statistics for the book’s thirty-three events show that twenty-five events were allowed to proceed (76%), six events were cancelled by the library (18%), and two other events were dropped by the organizers (6%). The twenty-five events that were held usually embraced normative library statements upholding IF and library neutrality. The rationale for cancelled events also included the contravention of library anti-discrimination policy, security issues, or arguments related to unacceptable racial or controversial views, and hate speech.

In the case of the Mississauga 1978 film cancellation, the library responded by updating its policy on film selection and use. In 1990, Ottawa Public Library cancelled a lecture on reducing immigration and withdrawal of foreign aid because it was “inappropriate” (p. 14). The 2009 cancellation of events proposing to discuss assisted suicide in Vancouver was vetoed by the library because it received legal advice that it was a potential violation of the Criminal Code of Canada (p. 41–44). The public library in Saskatoon cancelled a speaker scheduled to speak on the matter of abortion due to its controversial nature, citing logistical safety concerns in 2017. The author notes this was an interesting decision because safety concerns trumped IF (p. 58). In the 2017 case of Killing Europe, the Ottawa library cited its stance vis-à-vis its internal anti-discrimination policy. Eventually, legal challenges upheld the library’s position because it was not legally obligated to protect IF when private events were held on its premises (p. 72). Although Vancouver originally approved Megan Murphy’s session on gender identity and feminism for March 2020 based on IF and neutrality, her event was called off due to COVID-19 closures. In terms of politics, Kemble designates four of these library decisions as a progressive force and two as conservative reaction (Mississauga and Vancouver in 2009). 

Contested Spaces closes by critiquing the reliance on the principle of IF and assertions of neutrality. Kemble believes that libraries too often reinforce the status quo of societal power imbalances by protecting ‘ideas over people.’ Although on occasion security and safety come to the fore in the decision-making process, too often values related to social justice are ignored or relegated to secondary consideration. This state of affairs does not fit with the author’s concept of progressiveness or value-neutrality: in many instances, neutrality can be a malleable concept. Nonetheless, the concept of neutrality is still a recognized value in library work because it espouses tolerance and accommodation of people and groups with different ideas and goals.

Whitney Kemble’s criticisms in her well-researched monograph stand out in a Canadian context and make us consider whether our current policies that uphold neutrality are adequate or a fruitless ethical search. Of course, progressiveness is not without its critics, but the author concludes that she is ready for these conversations (p. 39). Her publisher, Litwin Books & Library Juice, is known for its academic quality, and this book is a valuable addition to the debate on neutrality in a liberal democratic society, which no doubt will continue.

Additional sources:

My blog on the Canadian Library Association adoption of its intellectual freedom policy at Calgary in 1966 is at this link.

A YouTube video news report of the protest in support of the transgender community against controversial speaker Meghan Murphy’s appearance at the Palmerston Branch is at this link. 

INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM STATEMENT: THE INSTITUTE OF PROFESSIONAL LIBRARIANS OF ONTARIO, APRIL 1972

In the 1950s and early 1960s, Ontario librarians began to believe they should have a separate provincial body to speak for ‘professional librarians’ on issues related to unions, library boards, and governments. In 1958, the Institute of Professional Librarians became a section within the Ontario Library Association. Two years later, in 1960, the IPL sought incorporation and became an independent organization. This separation was followed by private legislation in 1963, An Act Respecting the Institute of Professional Librarians of Ontario. Through the 1960s, IPLO served as a clearing house for professional information, helped its members (about 300 by 1970) with employment conditions, offered workshops, and published a newsletter and then a journal to keep members informed of its activities on current issues

Membership in IPLO required librarians to have a bachelor’s degree from a recognized university as well as a postgraduate degree from a library school (usually a BLS) accredited by the Canadian and American Library Association or training which the Institute's Registration Committee considered equivalent to a postgraduate library science degree. Older librarians who did not possess these qualifications before 1960 also gained admission. However, IPLO began to face difficult financial conditions in the early 1970s because there was a legislated maximum membership fee and declining membership. New library science graduates considered IPLO outmoded, a remnant of unsuccessful efforts to achieve independent professional standing. Librarians were becoming more vocal about working conditions, low salaries, and sex bias in management. Academic librarians were collaborating with faculty unions and public librarians were joining the Canadian Union of Public Employees. In 1976, the Institute came to an end. Greg Linnell recounts its story in detail: his article can be downloaded at one of my earlier blogs in 2009: https://libraries-today.blogspot.com/2009/04/.

IPLO was reasonably active in the field of working conditions. The Institute developed general guidelines for employment, drafted sample contracts for individuals, and set forth guidelines for grievance procedures. A code of ethics for librarians was adopted, and briefs were presented to the provincial government on various issues. One notable statement appeared in 1972: a statement on intellectual freedom. There were already two statements by the Ontario and Canadian library associations that were readily available for libraries, but the IPLO Board of Directors and general membership felt a need to address certain issues that were librarian oriented. IPLO had engaged with two newly established colleges, Conestoga and St. Lawrence, in 1970, about issues arising from intellectual freedom. In the case of Conestoga College, while an IPLO committee found insufficient evidence to support a charge of censorship of materials even though three librarians had resigned in September 1970, citing cancellation of an underground magazine, The East Village Other. The committee recommended that the college prepare a written statement on the role of the library and that the librarian prepare a statement on its book selection policies. Two years later, IPLO emphasized the need for more explicit selection standards and librarians’ responsibility to resist censorship when it issued the following policy.

STATEMENT ON INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM

Adopted by the membership at its Annual Meeting on April 22, 1972

The Institute of Professional Librarians of Ontario affirms that library service is based upon the fundamental right of citizens to freedom of speech and the underlying tenet of a democracy that a citizen has the right to choose courses of action, public or private. In order that a democracy can function, the citizenry must have free and unhindered access to information and ideas as presented in a variety of media.

The I.P.L.O. therefore asserts:

1. that a professional librarian will take steps to establish a meaningful materials selection policy for the institution or constituency he serves, and that within the limit of the library’s particular function the librarian will select materials in a manner to avoid the undue influence of opinions of the selectors, to represent a variety of opinions or approaches and to assert that materials will not be rejected because of the race, nationality or political, religious or unpopular views of the creator or because the materials may be considered as depicting the ugly, shocking or unedifying in life.

2. that the censorship of materials is not a valid activity for a librarian, library management or library board.

3. that attempts to curtail access to library materials, or to withdraw books or other materials from library circulation by individuals or groups must be resisted, and that librarians under such pressure should seek the support of fellow professionals, through their professional organization.

4. that the professional librarian will seek to encourage the climate of intellectual freedom and freedom of access to library materials and that he will adhere to the I.P.L.O’s Code of Ethics and to procedures as outlined in the I.P.L.O. guidelines for handling grievances where these concern censorship and intellectual freedom.

5. that no member of the I.P.L.O. shall knowingly apply for or accept a position in an institution which has consistently yielded to pressure to censor, withdraw, or restrict access to materials for citizens’ use or which subscribes to such policies in either a formal or informal manner.

The statement was directed to IPLO’s members in public, academic, school, and special libraries and it differed in some respects from other associations, e.g., there was no reference to the use of library facilities. The statement referred to IPLO’s policies in one instance (clause 4) and in another (clause 2) included library trustees (virtually all who were ineligible to join IPLO). It called for the formal creation of collection policies to guide book selectors and inform administrators and the public about collection development in its broader context.

IPLO was not reluctant to rely on its newly adopted statement. In December 1972, it issued a press release criticizing letters issued by the municipal council of Pembroke to other Ontario municipalities for stricter enforcement of censorship. Of course, it cited its new policy; however, the statement was only in effect for four years until the Institute’s demise in 1976 and did not influence librarianship in Ontario in the way IPLO intended, e.g., ethical guidance. However, the idea of policies for collection development, while not original, would become standard practice in subsequent decades.

Intellectual Freedom Statement adopted by the Canadian Library Association in 1966

Canadian Libraries and Intellectual Freedom

Although the Canadian Library Association-Association Canadienne des Bibliothèques did not adopt an intellectual freedom statement until 1966, its development had a long genesis. As early as 1951, at its Toronto conference, the Ontario Library Association requested CLA-ACB to develop a statement on a “Library Bill of Rights,” i.e., a national library policy on intellectual freedom similar to the American Library Association’s statement revised in 1948. As a result, the CLA-ACB appointed a special committee to explore a “Library Charter” chaired by Gerhard Lomer (McGill University). Over two years, the committee worked on a statement in three sections: the rights of the Canadian people, the services and responsibilities of libraries, and the duties of the government. However, the committee was discharged in 1953, perhaps because CLA-ACB chose a reactive “watch and ward” position focused on its Undesirable Literature Committee (est. 1950).

Yet, this latter committee did not attempt to draft a policy, although it did submit a 1953 brief to a Senate committee concerning indecent publications that declared censorship could be problematic. For many years, meetings and conferences of CLA-ACB mostly dealt with “bread and butter” issues, such as salary standards for employees, standards of service for public libraries, or the development of a projected national survey on the state of libraries. The welfare of librarians and libraries, not issues of national or public policy, was the prime interest of the membership.

The lapsed mandates of the two 1950s committees were eventually incorporated into an Intellectual Freedom committee in 1961. This committee, chaired from 1962–66 by John Archer, began a more purposeful program first of providing information for libraries and the public through a series of articles and then the composition of a statement on Intellectual Freedom for CLA members to debate. John Archer was a 1949 BLS graduate (McGill University) who had advanced to the positions of Legislative Librarian and Provincial Archivist of Saskatchewan. He came to the committee after the Canadian Criminal Code adopted a more permissive view of obscenity in publications—the new test was the interpretation of an author’s “undue exploitation” of sex, crime, violence, or cruelty. This legal application opened the door to works of artistic merit to circulate freely; thus, challenges in the early 1960s swirled about novels of apparent “ill-repute” such as Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Naked Lunch, Tropic of Cancer, Women in Love, and Memoirs of Fanny Hill. As well, a federal statute enacted in 1960, the Canadian Bill of Rights, provided citizens with certain legal rights, such as a free press, in relation to other federal laws and government actions. However, its scope was limited. For example, it did not apply to provincial laws.

A general principled approach, not statements on individual authors or works, was adopted by CLA-ACB. John Archer’s first step came in the March 1962 issue of the Canadian Library, where two articles appeared: “The Freedom to Read” and the “Library Bill of Rights.” Both statements were reprints originally adopted by the American Library Association, which had begun to address the right to read and libraries’ responsibilities as early as 1939. Later, in November 1962, Rev. Edmond Desrochers, S.J., the President of CLA, published an article, “A Catholic Librarian looks at Intellectual Freedom in the Canadian Setting.” Desrochers identified some problems with the ALA statements in a Canadian context. He emphasized the need for a policy that “embodies due respect for the different philosophical and religious beliefs of the Canadian people.” However, he did not oppose adoption of a statement, rather he encouraged the creation of a policy that recognized the diversity of Canada. Finally, in March 1963, the Canadian Library published a final article by Archer, “This Freedom.” It became obvious from its two-page text that “watch and ward” should be jettisoned.

Libraries must play a vital role in the maintenance of intellectual freedom. As a responsibility of library service to the public, the reading materials selected should be chosen for interest and for informational and cultural values. The freedom of an individual to use the library should not be denied or abridged because of factors of race, national origin, or political views. Library service should offer the fullest practical coverage of materials, presenting all points of view concerning local, national and international issues of our times. The libraries and those responsible for libraries must stand as leaders for intellectual freedom and must resist social influences tending to restrict the legitimate right to provide Canadians with worthwhile books.

A CLA-ACB annual meeting was scheduled for Calgary in June 1966. The Intellectual Freedom Committee wisely decided to hold a two-day pre-conference meeting at Banff that attracted about seventy registrants. On the first day, there were topical addresses followed by four breakout discussion groups: two for public libraries, one for academic libraries, and one for government/special libraries. John Archer, now Director of Libraries at McGill University, was the incoming President of CLA-ACB and led a strategy group that condensed the findings of each group and provided a draft for discussion and adoption on the second day. Then, the CLA-ACB Council fine-tuned the draft to be forwarded at two open meetings of conference delegates at the Calgary conference. The following statement, slightly revised at these meetings, was approved Twenty-first Annual Conference held at Calgary on June 21, 1966.

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The Canadian Library Association Statement on Intellectual Freedom, 1966

Intellectual Freedom comprehends the right of every person (in the legal meaning of the term), subject to reasonable requirements of public order, to have access to all expressions of knowledge and intellectual creativity, and to express his thoughts publicly.

Intellectual Freedom is essential to the health and development of society.

Libraries have a primary role to play in the maintenance and nurture of intellectual freedom.

In declaring its support of these general statements, the CLA-ACB affirm these specific propositions:

1) It is the responsibility of libraries to facilitate the exercise of the right of access by acquiring and making available books and other materials of the widest variety, including those expressing or advocating unconventional or unpopular ideas.

2) It is the responsibility of libraries to facilitate the exercise of the right of expression by making available all facilities and services at their disposal.

3) Libraries should resist all efforts to limit the exercise of these responsibilities while recognizing the right of criticism by individuals and groups.

4) Librarians have a professional duty, in addition to their institutional responsibility, to uphold the principles enunciated in this statement.

* * * * * * * *

Following the adoption of the statement, conference delegates also passed a resolution that they believed (hopefully) would secure legal recognition for libraries.

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED that the Government of Canada be requested to recognize both this role and this responsibility by introducing amendments to the Criminal Code specifically exempting libraries from such provisions of the Code as may now or in future restrict or forbid individual citizens from acquiring books or other materials within the scope of the CLA-ACB statement on Intellectual Freedom, such materials to be acquired by libraries for purposes of research.

Not surprisingly, many matters pertaining to the federal Criminal Code were deemed more important by government officials in Ottawa. The impetus for following through on the statement and the resolution soon lapsed.

Although CLA-ACB had produced a succinct and clearly worded document that acknowledged libraries and librarians should be proactive, not reactive, in terms of censorship and freedom of expression, the association’s interest in asserting its policy diminished for several years until a revival occurred in the mid-1970s. In 1974, the Church of Scientology served writs on the Hamilton and Etobicoke libraries because both libraries refused to remove books critical of Scientology, such as Cyril Vosper’s The Mind Benders. Eventually, the Church withdrew its civil action, and CLA successfully redrafted its position on June 17, 1974 (the so-called Winnipeg Manifesto). The revised statement cited the 1960 Canadian Bill of Rights and used more assertive wording, such as “guarantee,” and broadened its scope by referencing “employees and employers.” In many ways, this revision improved and simplified both the OLA 1963 statement and the previous CLA-ACB effort adopted at Calgary in 1966. One interesting CLA point on facilitating access to library spaces and services (#2) did not seem to be contentious until the late 1970s when libraries in Mississauga and Oakville decided to screen the film, The Naked Civil Servant. Nevertheless, issues involving pornography, child pornography, and hate propaganda would require CLA’s continued attention, especially in the 1980s: the 1974 statement was revised in November 1983 and November 1985 to reference the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Shortly before CLA disbanded, it would be revised a final time on September 27, 2015.

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John Hall Archer was invested with the Order of Canada in April 1982. The University of Regina’s main library is named in his honour. He died in 2004.

The Bibliothèque Edmond Desrochers at the Centre justice et foi in Montreal, specializing in the social sciences, was named in his honour in 1985. Father Desrochers died in 1987.

Read the contemporary statement adopted by the Canadian Federation of Library Associations upon review on August 26, 2016.

Intellectual freedom statement adopted by Ontario Library Association in 1963

Ontario Libraries and Censorship

Throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, the Ontario and Canadian library associations formed specific committees to deal with the issue of obscene literature and censorship. At mid-century, many librarians reasoned they were selecting books, not prohibiting access or advocating freedom. They worked within an environment where Canadian law did not always always ensure civil rights and liberties for everyone. In this situation, library neutrality was often cited as the best course. Most librarians believed in the concept of treating patrons equally and providing resources for multiple viewpoints. During this period, the general stance by both associations was to issue reminders that self-censorship by librarians in book selection was often a greater threat to intellectual freedom than actions by external local groups, governments, or federal laws. “Watch and ward” became a byword for both the OLA and the CLA when periodic eruptions of censorship occurred that involved libraries. In principle, the library stood as a watchman protecting the public from harm. The associations felt that the answer to a bad book was a good book.

    Of course, “bad books,” even ones legally published, often could not be found on library shelves. An experienced librarian, Grace Buller, in her 1974 court testimony, said, “when I first went to the Toronto Public Library in 1949, we didn’t have a copy of Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath.” William Riggs, a Windsor trustee, told journalists at the OLA’s 1951 conference that, “we know librarians sometimes hide books containing strong language under the counters, and often refuse to give out literature on specialized subjects [e.g., birth control] to groups requesting it.” In the late 1950s, Vladimir Nabokov’s critically acclaimed but contentious novel, Lolita, presented difficultly for library selectors: a survey in 1959 revealed only four of twelve libraries in the metropolitan Toronto area had the book available. Sometimes, libraries complied with police investigations: the Toronto Public Library Board surrendered copies of Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer in 1961 after Canada Customs ruled it ineligible for importation.

5th edition, Paris, 1938

     In Ontario, film censorship and restrictions on access by classification was more evident until 1960, when the Ontario Attorney-General formed an advisory body, the Obscene Literature Committee, to review controversial books or periodicals and the “pulps.” Book publishers and distributors mostly welcomed the committee’s reports to the Attorney-Generals office because it was a way to avoid expensive, time-consuming legal proceedings. The OLA also believed this provincial administrative process was reasonable and requested a librarian be appointed. Robert B. Porter, the chief librarian at Peterborough Public Library, joined the committee in May 1960. He had served as a lieutenant with the Regina Rifles when the regiment landed on D-Day, June 6th 1944. He had also been a member of the OLA’s Intellectual Freedom Committee in the late 1950s. Like many librarians, indeed most citizens, Porter was reluctant to alter existing conditions in the sphere of intellectual freedom but he was also fair-minded. In many ways, library trustees and librarians preferred consensus based on local, fluctuating “community standards.” Ontario libraries seldom rose to the defence of controversial books or authors. A notable exception occurred in 1955 in Flesherton when the library board and the librarian successfully defended the removal of several books accused of promoting “atheism, profanity and sex.” On balance, Robert Fulford’s 1959 assessment in the Toronto Star was well founded: “Libraries, in this country at least, have never been in the vanguard of the fight against censorship.”

    However, the OLA’s Intellectual Freedom Committee began to adopt a more proactive course after the Supreme Court of Canada narrowly ruled (5–4) Lady Chatterley’s Lover, a novel by D.H. Lawrence, was not obscene in March 1962 because, on balance, it was a serious work of literature. Shortly afterwards, the committee members decided it would be an appropriate time to state clearly OLA’s policy on the question of intellectual freedom and to issue a statement on its position. A new committee chair, Peter Revell, London Public Library, forged ahead for the 1963 annual meeting in Kitchener. He was an English librarian working on his MA in literature at the University of Western Ontario. Revell was familiar with censorship issues and would later pen a short article, “Propaganda and Pornography,” in Library Journal. The OLA committee members worked through 1962–63 to agree on a policy statement. Then, at the first session of the OLA annual general meeting on May 29, 1963, in the theatre-auditorium of Waterloo Lutheran University [now Wilfrid Laurier University], the following statement on Intellectual Freedom was passed by the unanimous vote of the members present.

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Ontario Library Association Statement on Intellectual Freedom, May 1963

In affirming its support of the fundamental rights of freedom of the press and freedom to read, the Ontario Library Association declares its acceptance of the following propositions:

(i ) That the provision of library service to the Canadian public is based upon the right of the citizen, within the limits of the law, to judge for himself on questions of politics, religion and morality.

( ii ) That it is the responsibility of librarians to maintain this right and to implement it in their selection of books, periodicals, films and recordings, subject only to the provisions of federal and provincial laws governing the suppression of treasonable, seditious and obscene literature.

(iii) That freedom of the press requires freedom to examine other ideas and other interpretations of life than those currently approved by the local community or by society in general, including those ideas and interpretations which may be unconventional or unpopular.

(iv) That freedom of the press requires freedom of the writer to depict what is ugly, shocking and unedifying in life when such depiction is made with serious intent.

(v) That the free traffic in ideas and opinions is essential to the health and growth of a free society.

(vi) That it is therefore part of the library’s service to its public to resist any attempt by any individual or group within the community it serves to abrogate or curtail the freedom to read by demanding the removal of any book, periodical, film or recording from the library.

(vii) That it is equally part of the library’s responsibility to its public to ensure that its selection of materials is not unduly influenced by the personal opinions of the selectors, but determined by the application of generally accepted standards of accuracy, style and presentation.

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    There was little public fanfare about the OLA Statement on Intellectual Freedom. The OLA was a small body of less than a thousand members. A few newspapers in Toronto, Kingston, Brantford, Kitchener, North Bay, and Windsor covered the new policy with brief articles. Yet, the statement marked a new era in thinking about censorship issues for Ontario’s libraries. It provided library boards with a framework, which was non-binding, to develop local formal policies on collection development and defend contentious purchases. In line with contemporary attitudes on social responsibility, it evoked a different approach to censorship and free expression. No longer would it be sufficient to guard ever changing “community standards.” A more proactive approach was necessary to allow freedom of expression for authors and the legal circulation of unconventional materials to the public. The public, not librarians, would judge the morality of an author’s work.

    Of course, the Ontario library declaration coincided with the liberalization of Canadian law in terms of censorship, obscenity, and customs seizures. The OLA statement arrived several months before police in Richmond Hill and Toronto confiscated John Cleland’s Memoirs of Fanny Hill at the end of 1963 and the start of 1964. The novel made a long transit through the court system until December 1964 when the Ontario Supreme Court ruled Fanny not obscene. Later, in 1964, two years after Lady Chatterley’s Lover was legalized by the Supreme Court of Canada, the Ontario Obscene Literature Committee ruled that Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn were serious works of literature that could circulate and be sold in Ontario. The threat of criminal prosecution for publishers or distributors was thereby lifted for similar works and more permissive standards adopted.

    The OLA Intellectual Freedom Statement served Ontario libraries for three decades before major changes were introduced. While many library selectors continued to rely on various interpretations of what was sometimes termed “library neutrality,” their arguments on selection could be sharpened by reference to the “standards of accuracy, style and presentation” that the statement advocated. Of course, complaints about books continued to erupt from time to time, Xaviera Hollander’s The Happy Hooker being a case in point. In the early 1970s, it was apparent that reliance on a statement alone was not sufficient—libraries and the OLA needed to respond forcefully when censorship challenges arose. The 1972 OLA Kingston conference theme was Intellectual Freedom and Censorship. A revised statement was prepared for approval but, ultimately, rejected by the membership: some delegates believed its principles actually interfered with a librarian’s decision in the selection of library resources. However, the OLA original statement would be revised to suit changing legal definitions and societal changes. The development of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and passage of the Constitution Act in 1982 followed by the growth of the Internet in the mid-1990s accentuated new issues, such as access and social responsibility. In 1990, the OLA issued an Intellectual Freedom Handbook to assist libraries with the changing times. The OLA statement was revised in 1990, 1998, and more recently in 2020 to reflect the rights of individuals as well as the concept of intellectual freedom in a democratic society. Still, there are recognizable passages from the 1963 version, especially the first and fifth clause, that continue to resonate six decades on.

    The OLA spokesperson on censorship in the mid-1960s, Peter Revell, returned to Britain to earn a PhD in librarianship at the University of Wales. He published important studies about American poetry and was chief librarian at Westfield College (London) from 1975 until his death in 1983. The Obscene Literature Committee continued its work until 1972 when it was dissolved because it was no longer needed. Bob Porter continued at Peterborough until his retirement announcement in 1980. He died in 2010.

Further reading:

The current Ontario Library Association Statement on Intellectual Freedom and the Intellectual Rights of the Individual (2020)

Peter Revell, “Censorship Facts.” Ontario Library Review 46 (May 1962): 95–96

Peter Revell, “Viewpoint: Propaganda and Pornography.” Library Journal 88 (October 1, 1963): 3562 and 3585.

D. Granfield and N. Barakett, Intellectual Freedom Handbook (Toronto: Ontario Library Association, 1990)

Pearce J. Carefoote, Forbidden Fruit: Banned, Censored and Challenged Books from Dante to Harry Potter (Toronto: Lester, Mason & Begg, 2007)

Alexander Calhoun defends The Grapes of Wrath in Calgary, 1940

“The problem of obscenity in books is undoubtedly a very thorny one for librarians. Possibly the only confident statement one dare make on the subject is that there has been in the last generation a marked increase of tolerance on the part of the public toward obscenity in literature. In the main, I think, this is a sign of progress.” — Alexander Calhoun, March 16, 1940, Calgary Herald.

    When the Viking Press published John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath in 1939, it was generally greeted with critical acclaim in North America. Steinbeck’s masterful story followed the fictional Joad family’s trek to the promised land of California and their struggles once heartbreaking reality shattered their hopeful vision. The novel quickly reached the top of bestseller lists. Its renown gained Steinbeck a Pulitzer Prize for Novels and a National Book Award for Fiction within a year. The 1940 movie version starring Henry Fonda was equally successful at box offices.

    Canadian customs officials did not prohibit the importation of the novel into Canada. It was legally published and available for sale. But the novel was also greeted by many opponents who felt Steinbeck employed obscene/foul language, described overt sexual affairs, indulged in religious profanity, and sympathized with dangerous socialist/communist ideas. Some libraries in the United States, such as Buffalo, refused to purchase it; there were a few book burning as well. In Toronto, there were complaints from library patrons that The Grapes of Wrath was not available even a year later, in early 1940. The Chief Librarian, Charles Sanderson, told the Toronto Star that it was one of the books that the library would not buy. Higher literary standards—the highbrow culture of exclusion—often prevailed among library selectors and cautious library administrators.

Alexander Calhoun makes the case for The Grapes of Wrath  

 However, one library director in Canada, Alexander Calhoun at Calgary Public Library, defended Steinbeck’s work and made a case for its selection and retention in libraries. Calhoun had tentatively decided not to order it when the first reviews came out in early 1939. The American Library Association’s review publication, Booklist, had called attention to Steinbeck’s use of “natural language” and recommended the book be read prior to purchase. Later in the year, Booklist published Helen E. Haines’ article “Values of Fiction” which praised Steinbeck’s novel. She was a reputable American library educator whose judgements were noteworthy. Calhoun decided to read the novel; then he placed an order for the Calgary library.

    Faced in early March 1940 with a complaint by a Calgary city alderman, Hedley C. Chauncey, Calhoun explained his rationale in an opinion piece in Calgary Herald: “My own opinion is that it is so significant as a social document that no library worth of the name should be without a copy.”  He said that a few libraries had banned Anthony Adverse by Hervey Allen, although it contained passages of a pornographic nature more shocking than anything in Grapes. He pointed to an American judge’s decision in 1933 to lift the ban on James Joyce’s Ulysses. This important ruling clarified a few matters about what could be judged pornographic:

1939 book cover

(1) what was the author’s intention: to write a pornographic book?
(2) a book should be judged as a whole, not by any of its parts or excerpts;
(3) the standard of reference for obscenity should be for a typical adult, not minors;
(4) “dirty,” realistic language is not necessarily pornographic or obscene when taken in a broader context of the book.

This landmark decision eventually opened the door for the publication of serious works of literature that used coarse language or depicted sexual subjects.

    Calhoun explained that his own judgement was only one part that formed his decision. He asked his staff to read the book, and he also looked into the opinion of Calgary library readers. All eleven staff reported they favoured the book’s retention. Calhoun mentioned there had been no demands from readers to have the book removed from library shelves by its many readers. And he had listened to the NBC Network’s radio talk show, America’s Town Meeting of the Air program, “What should America do for the Joads?” Calgary’s library director, along with millions, had tuned in to hear this program on March 7th. He felt the show likely would lead to further investigation of social problems raised in the book by Steinbeck. He closed his opinion piece by commenting that “no minor will be given the book to read without the clear approval of his parents.” His assessment countered the argument that Grapes posed a threat to taint younger teenage minds. Nonetheless, it was a conservative view. Just a few years later, at the end of WW 2, an Ontario teacher, Mary Campbell at Harbord Collegiate Institute, Toronto, expressed her view at a librarians’ discussion group that, “The Grapes of Wrath is a realistic book for senior students. I recommend it for the validity of period and social situation. The profanity is incidental. We should have confidence in our standards. We shouldn’t consider narrow-minded opinions.”

    The controversy over The Grapes of Wrath raised the issues of censorship and intellectual freedom for public librarians and trustees at a time authoritarian regimes threatened democratic nations. In June 1939, at San Francisco, the American Library Association issued a brief three-point “Library’s Bill of Rights.” It stated libraries should provide materials and information presenting all points of view. Library selections should not be subject to the influence of race, nationality, or the writers’ political or religious views. Further, library meeting space should be made available to all community groups on equal terms regardless of their beliefs or affiliation. In Canada, the short ALA statement was published in the British Columbia Library Association Bulletin in November 1939 without comment. Indeed, intellectual freedom would remain an subterranean issue in Canadian libraries until the Cold War commenced.

Further Reading:

“Calgary Librarian’s Case for the Joads.” Calgary Herald, Saturday, March 16, 1940, p. 30.

Listen to RadioEchoes.com archive recording of the Town Meeting of the Air panel discussion on the social issues raised by Steinbeck that Calhoun referenced [approx. one hour].

Alexander Calhoun’s biography at Ex Libris Association.