Have They Ruined Our Beloved Scholastic Book Fair?
Oh, Scholastic Book Fair. If you made your way through a public school in North America anytime during the past half-century, you should recall that shiny catalog.
The Scholastic Book Fair is a long-standing event in North American public schools, tracing its origins to 1982, though its book clubs began as early as 1948. The fair was designed to provide affordable books through classroom magazine programs. Early fairs prominently featured Scholastic titles like the Clifford series, which became highly popular. Over time, the fair played a key role in boosting sales for young adult (YA) franchises such as The Hunger Games and Goosebumps. The event also served a financial purpose, generating supplemental funding for under-resourced schools. According to a Scholastic representative, the fairs have raised over $2 billion for American schools in the past decade alone. The fair’s catalog, a recognizable feature for generations, became a cultural touchstone for many Millennials, symbolizing a mix of nostalgia and consumerism.
Critics like Michelle Cyca argue that the Scholastic Book Fair has changed in recent years, with a shift toward offerings tied to popular media franchises such as Lego, Pokémon, or Paw Patrol. These items are often marketed based on their association with existing entertainment properties rather than their literary merit. Cyca’s article highlights a perceived decline in the fair’s focus on independent or imaginative storytelling. The fair’s current offerings include spin-off books and merchandise, a trend that dates back to at least 2002, when a Pokémon guide appeared on a bestseller list. While franchise-based items are not new, the criticism centers on their increased dominance in the fair’s inventory and the perceived erosion of the fair’s original educational and literary focus.
The Scholastic Book Fair has long been criticized for exacerbating social and economic inequalities among students. While some children can afford multiple books, posters, or toys, others may only purchase a sticker sheet or nothing at all due to financial constraints. Danika Ellis, a former bookseller and editor at Book Riot, has criticized the fair for creating a system where access to books is uneven. The fair’s structure, which relies on voluntary purchases, means that its benefits are not distributed equally. Ellis notes that the fair’s goal of promoting reading may be undermined by its for-profit nature, which prioritizes sales over equitable access to books. This critique underscores the fair’s original paradox: buying books does not always equate to reading them or ensuring fair distribution.
The article explores the tension between nostalgia for the Scholastic Book Fair’s past and the reality of its present. Michelle Cyca’s piece reflects on the fair as a nostalgic symbol of Millennial childhood, particularly its order forms and iconic catalogs. However, the article questions whether this nostalgia is justified or if it obscures the fair’s long-standing flaws, such as its commercialism and inequities. The fair was never purely about literary merit; it also included unclassy or commercially driven items like Garfield comics or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles books. The author suggests that the fair’s appeal was often tied to the thrill of coveting items rather than refining literary taste, highlighting the complexity of nostalgia and its potential to distort perceptions of the past.
The article introduces the concept of enshittification, a term coined by Cory Doctorow to describe the process by which user experiences degrade as value is extracted for corporate gain. This phenomenon is often associated with late-stage capitalism and can explain why many products and services, including the Scholastic Book Fair, feel less satisfying over time. Doctorow originally applied this term to digital platforms like those in Silicon Valley, where user data is exploited before corporate interests take precedence. The article suggests that the Scholastic Book Fair may be an example of enshittification, where the fair’s original purpose has been overshadowed by commercialization and the prioritization of profit over educational or equitable goals.
While the article acknowledges valid criticisms of the Scholastic Book Fair, it also cautions against excessive doomerism or nostalgia. The author notes that lamenting the past can distract from addressing the broader economic systems that shape the fair’s current state. The term *enshittification* is described as a useful but incomplete explanation, as it does not provide solutions to the issues it highlights. The article suggests that recognizing the fair’s flaws does not necessarily mean rejecting it outright. Instead, it encourages a balanced view that acknowledges both the fair’s historical significance and its current shortcomings, while avoiding the assumption that things will only worsen without action.
