In 2009, some Amazon Kindle users discovered that books they had purchased from the Kindle store platform, specifically versions of “1984” and “Animal Farm” by George Orwell, were deleted from their devices without warning. Despite Amazon explaining that this was due to those specific versions of the books being uploaded to the platform by a company that didn’t have the rights to sell the book, it still raised concerns over whether this was an abuse of power by the company. 

In 2025, Amazon finally clarified on the Kindle store that “by placing your order, you’re purchasing a license to the content” of that particular book, not that you own the book. This raised concern among consumers and Kindle users about the increasing lack of control they have over their digital book media, including terminating the ability to transfer their licensed books onto physical hardrives. This essentially locks readers who own a Kindle into an Amazon ecosystem if they wish to keep reading the books they licensed; publishers argue that this discourages the purchase of physical media and puts more power in the hands of Amazon, which has been accused of placing a stronghold on low e-book prices across online booksellers. 

The digital purchase and lending of book licenses has long been in use on digital library platforms such as Hoopla and OneDrive, and publishers expressed concern that “library lending of ebooks will ‘train’ readers that the value of ebooks is zero.” 

While the act of “separating the art from the artist” continues to be a debate that divides fans and pop culture enthusiasts, publishing houses have recently found themselves trying to navigate controversy when authors’ personal behaviors have forced their published work to come under scrutiny.

In 2024, the daughter of celebrated Canadian author Alice Munro came forward with allegations that her mother deliberately avoided intervening when her husband sexually abused her during her childhood. The content of Munro’s stories, which often focused on “passive” characters who grapple with feelings of abandonment or betrayal, drew scrutiny from both readers who believed that her personal actions were inseparable from her work, including her famous short stories “Vandals” and “The Children Stay.”

The public backlash was swift, as authors and readers like Rebecca Makkai lamented on social media, “I love her work so much that I don’t want to lose it, but am also horrified to see the meanings of many favorite (foundational, to me) stories shift under us.”

In January 2025, popular British author Neil Gaiman (whose work has been adapted into television and film projects) was accused of sexual misconduct by eight women in an article by Vulture. Critics in academic journals like Ad Fontes noted that it was nearly impossible to believe that these alleged acts didn’t influence his work, as “Gaiman’s fiction doesn’t dabble in sexual debauchery—it’s almost everywhere.” The long list of allegations inspired pop culture critics to create think pieces on YouTube and NPR, arguing whether publishers should play a role in “deplatforming” Gaiman by dropping his projects and whether readers could ethically enjoy his work, including novels like Coraline and comics like The Sandman.

In both of these controversies, the publisher was stuck in the middle of two sides of a raging public debate: either stop publishing the author’s works (which one side argued was censorship) or continue to publish them and be criticized for ignoring serious allegations in the pursuit of financial gain. In the wake of the allegations against Neil Gaiman, graphic novel publisher Dark Horse Comics cancelled the upcoming publication of additional books in Gaiman’s graphic novel series Anansi Boys. Alice Munro’s books remain available and in print after the allegations were made public and are available through sites such as Penguin Random House and Munro’s Books, which also published a statement of support for the victim.

These two controversies demonstrate that “when it comes to the question of whether authors are visible in their works or whether audiences can be complicit in destructive art,” publishers have started to grapple with their long-held role as gatekeepers of the literary world and what responsibility they bear when allegations emerge (Lawson, Ad Fontes).