On March 21, 2026, we open Banned Books & Co. It feels big, but also inevitable. The idea comes from a simple conviction: a free society needs places where people can encounter texts that someone, somewhere, tried to silence.
Banned books are not only historical artifacts. They are reminders of how power works. When ideas threaten power, words are often the first target. Sometimes through explicit bans, sometimes through social pressure, self-censorship, or language that makes certain questions impossible to ask.
That is why this bookshop is not about provocation. It is about education, curiosity, and intellectual honesty. A society that cannot tolerate uncomfortable books will eventually struggle to tolerate uncomfortable citizens.
Before opening day, March 21
As opening day approaches, I keep thinking about what a small bookshop can actually do. It cannot solve every democratic challenge. But it can create a room where people read, think, and talk without someone else deciding in advance which questions are allowed.
That is the kind of everyday infrastructure an open society needs. Not only abstract principles in ceremonial speeches, but concrete places where those principles are practiced.
If we want a public conversation that is less fearful and more truthful, we need to build environments that train that capacity. For me, Banned Books & Co is one such attempt.