It is comforting to know that no one is censored in France. Really. No ministry bans books, no authority deletes sentences, no police confiscate manuscripts. Freedom lives. It breathes. It probably sits somewhere in a well-ventilated conference room – and waits for its next “entrepreneurial decision.”
The case of Éditions Grasset shows how this works. You don’t have to abolish freedom. It is enough to reorganize it. A personnel change here, a signal there – and everyone understands what is meant. Those who write learn faster than any student: there are texts that advance careers. And texts that end careers.
The dismissal of the publishing director Olivier Nora is so instructive because it comes across so unspectacular. No coup, no scandal, no big gesture. Just a decision. Objectively justified. Supported by economics. Politically – of course – completely neutral.
Neutrality is a remarkably active state in such times.
More than 130 authors then left their publisher. One could dismiss this as an overreaction. As a literary drama. As the sensitivity of an industry that tends towards pathos anyway. One could.
Or one could read it as what it is: a vote of no confidence against a development that politely disguises itself yet is unmistakable. Those who leave rarely do so on a whim. They leave because staying is no longer seen as an option.
And then there is Vincent Bolloré – right-wing conservative and extremely influential. A man who forbids nothing and yet makes many things possible – or impossible. He does not build censorship authorities. He builds structures. And structures have one characteristic: They do not decide what may be said. They decide what is said.
This is the modern form of influence. It is quiet, efficient, and free of any coarseness. No one has to remain silent. It is enough if some are allowed to speak louder than others. And if everyone knows who decides on the volume.
Of course, there are alternatives. Other publishers. Other platforms. Other possibilities. This is always said when concentration becomes a problem. The market is open. The doors are open.
Only some doors lead to large halls – and others to very small rooms.
None of this is forbidden. It is allowed. It is legal. It is probably even economically sensible. And that is exactly what makes it so unpleasant.
Because freedom no longer dies today in a state of emergency. It disappears in normal operation.
Quietly. Efficiently. And completely compliant.
A commentary by Andreas M. Brucker