May 10, 1933 went down in Germany’s history as the beginning of the National Socialists‘ book burning. The party and its henchmen felt called upon to rid the German people of writings and books with „un-German“ content. The works of numerous, mainly Jewish authors fell victim to the campaign, including such famous names as Erich Kästner, Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Tucholsky and Heinrich Mann.
Nowadays, in the 2020s, such striking means are no longer used. Nowadays, the problem is solved more elegantly by Brussels issuing completely senseless and unenforceable regulations and laws. Authors or publishers who do not belong to the elite club of the big names in the industry are to be deterred with such regulations and prevented from spreading their – usually unpopular – ideas.
Admittedly, the printed book poses a serious danger. „If you have it black on white, you can take it home with you.“ Old Johann Wolfgang von Goethe already let us know that in his famous work „Faust“. Facts and historical evidences pressed between two book covers are not so easy to recapture once they are in circulation. A blog article on the Internet is quickly deleted and a video channel on YouTube is blocked within seconds.
A book remains and, above all, remains unchanged. Yes, of course distribution can be banned and existing copies destroyed if they can be obtained. But somewhere in a basement or attic there will always be a copy that has escaped destruction. Even the main work of that Austrian with the moustache resurfaced – although banned – after the end of World War II.
Books also have another invaluable advantage: you can still read them by candlelight when all the windmills have failed and the sun is not shining. So they greatly hinder the planned dumbing down of the people.
Despite all the obstacles that are put in their way and despite all the discounts for e-books and audio books, the book traders still generate 95 percent of their sales from printed material. That is why heavier artillery is now being brought into play so that the average citizen does not get the idea of getting intellectual stimulation from his bookshelf in the event of a power outage.
No, of course this has absolutely nothing to do with a possible restriction of freedom of expression. „There is no censorship,“ says Article 5 of the Basic Law of the Federal Republic of Germany, and of course this is adhered to. There is no doubt about it!
The EU Commission is only concerned about nature. Since books are made of paper, they pose a fundamental danger to our ecosystem – just like the farting cows that ruin our climate with their methane emissions. Therefore, the new EU regulation for deforestation-free products (EUDR – EU 2023/1115) has now been issued, which is mandatory from December 30, 2024. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find out why not from January 1, 2025. Presumably the ladies and gentlemen in Brussels want to celebrate New Year’s Eve undisturbed by annoying official business.
I am a freelance author and a so-called self-publisher, partly because I don’t want any editors to mess with my stories. They are my babies, you know? So keep your hands off them.
So until 2021 I sold some of my books through the shop on my website. Then I closed it because the administrative work became too time-consuming for me. I want to write stories and not fill out forms. In view of this new EU regulation, this idea turns out to be spot on, but let’s play through what would happen if…
If I were crazy enough to reopen my shop on January 1, 2025, I would have to provide the following information with every copy:
- an HS code
i.e. a customs tariff number, even if the book is only sold domestically. There are certainly corresponding tables on the Internet for this. So that would be one of the less strenuous measures. - the country of origin in which the relevant raw materials for the respective book were produced.
Okay, so the question is which raw materials are relevant. Is it just the inner paper or does the cover count too? And what about the color used to print the letters and the cover? - the geo-coordinates of all the plots of land on which the relevant raw materials for the respective book were produced.
That means I now have to find out where in Finland or in which Canadian forest the tree for my book was felled? There might even be – God forbid! – a tree trunk here and there that had been lying next to a tree trunk from Siberia in some lumberyard! So how can I guarantee that a small Russian twig hasn’t smuggled its way into my freshly printed book on page 214?
Or in short: what nonsense is that? - the time of production.
I really hope that this means the time of production of the book, because that alone is complicated enough. My last printing company was in Poland. Unfortunately I don’t speak Polish, but let’s assume that Pjotr from Poznan speaks German. Then I would call him and ask:
“Did you print my book before or after lunch?”
“I don’t know,” Pjotr would probably answer. “We printed part of it yesterday.” Damn it! - a confirmation that due diligence has been fulfilled and that each product was produced without deforestation and in accordance with the relevant legislation of the country of origin.
So I am supposed to confirm with my signature that no children were employed in logging in Brazil. I am supposed to confirm that no working elephants were used in Indonesia and no brown bears were harassed in Canada?
And what does “deforestation-free” even mean? Paper is made of wood and wood is made of trees and trees are usually found in some forest. So how do you turn a tree into paper without removing it from its forest? Questions upon questions… - the reference number of the due diligence declaration from the European Commission’s information system.
OK, that should be the least of all the problems.
This nonsense reminds me of my golden years as a young adult. I started my career as a clerk in foreign sales for the then very renowned German camera manufacturer Rollei-Werke Franke & Heidecke. My tasks included compiling the invoices and shipping documents for our deliveries.
Even back then, the world had a problem with Israel, or vice versa – depending on how you look at it. So if we had to deliver cameras or accessories to Israel’s neighboring countries, for example to Saudi Arabia or the Emirates, we had to enclose a so-called black list certificate with the shipment. It began with the heading „To whom it may concern“ and that actually said everything about the meaning and purpose of this piece of paper. The statement basically was:
„We hereby solemnly swear that not a single screw in this camera has ever touched Israeli soil and has never seen an El Al aircraft even from a distance.“
Even back then, we regularly smiled at this nonsense and wondered how our Arab customer would ever have proven us wrong. So we signed the paper and went on with our day. Back then, we could do that with a clear conscience. Back then, Germany still had a steel industry and, accordingly, companies that manufactured domestic screws.
Nowadays, my strawberry yogurt travels around the entire world before it lands on my table and I can sink my spoon into it…
Dear EU, you surely realize what nonsense this is, don’t you? Or do you no longer realize anything at all?