One of the most oft-read and beloved books in the United States public school system is Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Named for the temperature at which paper burns, Fahrenheit 451 chronicles a dystopian society where reading has been replaced by fast driving, excessive television consumption, and a general homogeneity of opinions and beliefs. The novel’s protagonist Guy Montag is a fireman, but instead of putting out fires, he starts them—burning books at the behest of the state. The novel follows Montag’s awakening to the dangers of book burning and ultimate radicalization against the culture in which he lives and works.
Ray Bradbury was born in 1920 in Waukegan, Illinois, where he spent the majority of his childhood until his family moved to California when he was 14. An avid reader, Bradbury spent most of his time in libraries and fell in love with horror, science fiction, and comic books. Despite growing up in a small town, he had a deep curiosity about the world. Bradbury was nine when Germany invaded Poland, and his adolescence was spent watching the horrors of the Nazi regime unfurl abroad. This historical period was crucial not only to the young author’s growing sense of self but also to the plot and ideology of Fahrenheit 451.
Like the ruling government in the novel, the Nazis believed in a single cultural and ideological canon and were quick to ban and destroy any books, media, or artwork that fell outside of it. The Nazi criteria for banned books was broad, including the works of Sigmund Freud, Jack London, and many more. Scholar Rebecca Knuth has called this practice “libricide,” referring to the “large-scale, regime-sanctioned destruction of books and libraries” within “a framework of genocide and ethnocide.”
For the young Bradbury, this practice was deeply disturbing. He states: “When I heard about Hitler burning the books in the streets of Berlin, it bothered me terribly. I was 15 when it happened, I was thoroughly in love with libraries and he [Hitler] was burning me when he did that.”
While this formative experience would plant the early seeds of what would become Bradbury’s most famous novel, the crucible in which it was forged was yet to come.
With the onset of the Cold War in 1939, anti-communist sentiment in the United States spiked, leading to deep fears about the Soviets’ ability to infiltrate the U.S. In 1947, President Truman issued the Loyalty Order, which mandated that all federal employees be analyzed to gauge their loyalty to the government. In 1938, the Republican-led House of Representatives formed the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) to expose Communists supposedly working inside of the federal government.
And while the fear of Communist agitators was largely contained to the federal government in the early to mid-1940s, in the late 1940s and early 1950s it began to bleed into American culture at large. In what became known as the Red Scare, the anti-communist crusader and Republican Senator from Wisconsin Joe McCarthy hurled allegations of disloyalty and pro-communist leanings (many of which were unfounded) at celebrities, authors, intellectuals, and anyone who was even remotely skeptical of McCarthy and his views. The culture of fear and paranoia, both of actual Communists and of being labeled one, reached dizzying new heights—many lost their jobs and were blackballed from their industries.
Bradbury was in his 30s and had become a successful science fiction author when the Red Scare reached a fever pitch. His first collection of short stories, Dark Carnival, was published in 1947, and his first novel, The Martian Chronicles, was released in ’49. At the same time, the anti-authoritarian views that began upon learning of the Nazi book burnings had fully blossomed. During the 1950s, the FBI, led by Director J. Edgar Hoover, accumulated a 40-page cache of documentation on Bradbury that suspected him of “spreading distrust and lack of confidence in America.” Government agents interviewed his peers and even put him under surveillance before determining he was not a genuine threat.
Despite the paranoia of the time, Bradbury was not withholding about his political views. During a debate about whether Communist Party members should be allowed to join the Screen Writers Guild, Bradbury supposedly stood up and shouted, “Cowards and McCarythyites!” at those who believed they should not. In 1952, he took out an advertisement in Daily Variety in which he wrote: “I have seen too much fear in a country that has no right to be afraid. I have seen too many campaigns in California, as well as in other states, won on the issue of fear itself, and not on the facts. I do not want to hear any more of this claptrap and nonsense from you. I will not welcome it from McCARTHY or McCARRAN, from Mr NIXON, DONALD JACKSON, or a man named SPARKMAN. I do not want any more lies, any more prejudice, any more smears. I do not want intimations, hearsay or rumour. I do not want unsigned letters or nameless telephone calls from either side, or from anyone.”
A year later, Bradbury’s frustration with the direction of American society would officially boil over in the form of Fahrenheit 451. He later said: “I wrote this book at a time where I was worried about the way things were going in this country…Too many people were afraid of their shadow; there was a threat of book burning. Many books were taken off the shelves at the time…I wanted to do some sort of story where I could comment on what would happen to a country if we let ourselves go too far in this direction, where all thinking stops and the dragon swallows its tail.”
One has to wonder what Bradbury would make of our current political and cultural moment. One in which government employees are not being interrogated, but simply laid off en masse—while the Trump administration claims this is to reduce government spending, White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy Stephen Miller said plainly that federal workers are “overwhelmingly left of center” and that it was “essential” for Trump to “get control of the government”—and culture wars over transgender and LGBTQ individuals and Diversity Equity and Inclusion rage.
One area in which these hot-button issues appear most stark is in public education. In 2023, the American Library Association’s (ALA) Office for Intellectual Freedom saw book bans surge by a terrifying 65%, the highest amount they have ever documented. 47% of these challenges were leveled at books that featured the lived experiences of LGTBQ or BIPOC individuals.
While Fahrenheit 451 was not one of them, it has, ironically, faced several book bans and censorship attempts, largely due to its supposed vulgarity and discussion of drug use. It was censored in 1967—the original references to drunkenness were changed to sickness. More recently in 2006, parents in Texas challenged the book, citing religious differences because a Bible is burned in the novel. In 2017, a Florida mother complained about the language in the novel after her eighth grader asked what a “bastard” was.
Inspired by Nazi Germany and born in the frenzy of the Red Scare, Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 is a powerful reminder of the necessity of independent thought, and how crucial books are to cultivating and sustaining it. As Captain Beatty says to Montag when explaining the dangers of literature: “A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man’s mind.”
To learn more check out…
“Book Ban Data.” American Library Association. Accessed March 10, 2025.
Flood, Alison, “Ray Bradbury investigated for communist sympathies”, The Guardian, August 30 2012.
“Red Scare.” History.com. June 1, 2010
Rothman, Lily, “The Real History Behind Book Burning and Fahrenheit 451”, Time, May 18, 2018.
