Nothing Is Apolitical

Not long ago, I saw a comment online that made me smile. Someone was complaining that an actor had “gotten political,” and the commenter was quite indignant about it.

“Why can’t entertainers just entertain?” they asked.

It’s a sentiment that pops up regularly. Actors shouldn’t talk about politics. Musicians shouldn’t talk about politics. Writers definitely shouldn’t talk about politics. Apparently the moment a creator expresses a view about the world, they have somehow stepped outside their lane.

I’ve never quite understood this expectation.

Stories don’t come from nowhere. They come from the air we breathe, the systems we live under, the values we were raised with, and the moment in history we happen to inhabit. All of that is shaped by politics. Even the decision to avoid politics entirely is, in its way, a political stance.

As writers, we know this instinctively. A novel about class is political. A novel about war is political. A novel about family roles, justice, poverty, gender, freedom, or power is political. That is true whether the author intends it or not.

Even works that seem purely escapist carry assumptions about how the world works and what matters in it.

Art has always been in conversation with the society that produces it. From ancient plays to modern novels, creators have reflected, challenged, mocked, or defended the political structures around them. Sometimes subtly, sometimes loudly, but almost never not at all.

So when people ask artists to “stay out of politics,” what they often mean is something slightly different. They mean, “Please don’t express political ideas that make me uncomfortable.”

That’s understandable. Nobody enjoys discomfort.

But expecting art to exist in a vacuum is a little like expecting weather without climate. The conditions of the world shape everything that grows within it.

Including stories.

I am an American, and being an American right now is extremely trying, worrying, and embarrassing. I heard a story on National Public Radio last month about Utah banning books from libraries, one of which was Slaughterhouse-Five, and how Vonnegut’s daughter was one of the people suing the ban. Here is a snippet of the interview:

INSKEEP: The book has been banned in various places for decades, sometimes even burned. Now, two Utah school districts have removed it from their libraries. If a third makes a final decision to remove it, the ban goes statewide. Nanette Vonnegut and the Vonnegut estate joined the suit along with several living authors whose books are also affected.

N VONNEGUT: I feel the urgency. I've never felt this urgency before about what's going on. Maybe because I have a granddaughter, I don't want to see her in a world where words are taken away from her and choices.

INSKEEP: Utah's legislature passed the law on sexual material in 2022. Terry Hutchinson of Utah has no doubt about their wisdom.

TERRY HUTCHINSON: Certain types of sexual material put in school libraries is harmful to students. It's harmful to student safety.

INSKEEP: Hutchinson is a Utah lawyer, broadcaster, former local school board member and current candidate for the state board of education. He says he's also a fan of books. For many years, he reviewed them on a Utah radio station.

INSKEEP: Hutchinson once was on the board of a public library, which also removed books sometimes, although he says it at a broader standard. In a school library, he says, parents may object on behalf of their kids.

Let me ask about the other example. What about a parent who insists, I want my child to have available in the school library, which is the most convenient library for them, a variety of literary works, including ones that might be on the edge of controversial?

HUTCHINSON: If it violates the standard, then it's not our obligation to put it in a school library. We're using taxpayer funds.

INSKEEP: Yeah, but what if the taxpayer is saying, I want that?

HUTCHINSON: Doesn't matter. I mean, heck, parents might want a pony. Does the school district have to provide the pony?

That exchange makes the point rather neatly. Politics determine what one state allows people to read while another does not.

What I want, in the end, is autonomy.

If I write a novel about war and you do not want to read a novel about war, pick another book. But you do not get to stop everyone else from picking up mine because you do not like it.

If I want to have a same-sex marriage, or not go to church, or go to a temple, or be vegan or a carnivore, the same principle applies. As long as no one is being forced into someone else’s choices, why not simply leave it be?

That, to me, is the real point. Politics shape the world we live in. Pretending they do not exist does not make them disappear. It only makes it easier for someone else to decide for the rest of us. That, to me, is the real point. Politics shape the world we live in, and therefore the stories we tell.

You can choose not to read a book. What, in my humble opinion, you should not be able to do is decide that no one else gets to read it either. 

Everything is political.

Check out the full NPR interview.

Meanwhile, on Old Scratch Press' blog I'm discussing the forthcoming Judy Blume biography that she is unhappy about.

Dianne Pearce is the chief editor and bottle washer at Current Words Publishing, and the half-cocked imaginer behind Old Scratch Press and Instant Noodles. Pearce loves helping writers realize the dream of having their work published. I mean she is really crazy about doing that for some reason. To that end, to join in the fray, to look at the thing from the other side, to stand in another’s shoes, and all of those things, she is fully expecting and promising to publish her first collection of poetry, In the Cancer Cafeteria, spring of 2026. Please don’t hold your breath. For very long. Happy 2026!