Every year, World Book Day offers us the chance to pause and recognise something both timeless and urgent: books matter.
They matter not as nostalgia, and not simply as a childhood rite of passage, but as living tools of imagination, empathy and opportunity. In a world defined by speed, distraction and constant information flow, the simple act of reading remains quietly radical.
I see that first-hand in my role as Chair of Governors at Byker Primary School. In classrooms full of energy and potential, the difference that reading makes is visible every day. Confidence grows. Vocabulary expands. Curiosity sharpens. The child who begins the year hesitant can, with encouragement and support, become absorbed in a story – and from that absorption comes belief.
Because reading asks something of us.
It asks us to slow down. To concentrate. To imagine.
What happens when we read?
When a child opens a book, they do not simply receive images or information. They become a collaborator in creating the world of the story. They decide what the landscape looks like, how a character sounds, and how emotion unfolds across the page. In an age of instantly delivered visual content, that imaginative partnership is something distinctive and precious.
That process strengthens independent thought.
Through stories, children can be anyone and go anywhere. But it is important to remember that reading is not only for children.
Books belong to all ages,
Teenagers find identity and understanding in stories that speak to their experiences of change and uncertainty. Adults turn to books for knowledge, reflection and sometimes escape from the pressures of modern life. For many people, reading is restoration – a way of processing experience, finding calm, or simply enjoying a quiet moment of focus.
Stories allow us to travel without moving.
We can stand on distant shores, walk through history, explore imagined futures or understand lives very different from our own. That is not merely entertainment. It is the cultivation of empathy.
Empathy is not a soft skill. It is a civic strength.
A society that reads widely understands nuance. Stories resist easy answers. They reveal complexity. They remind us that people are shaped by context, history and circumstance. At a time when public conversation can feel polarised and accelerated, books offer patience, depth and reflection.
My commitment to the power of reading is grounded in experience.
Seven Stories and Imagination Library
For ten years, I served as a trustee of the Seven Stories: The National Centre for Children’s Books, a national institution dedicated to celebrating children’s literature. There I saw how exhibitions, archives and author events could bring stories to life. Children encountering original illustrations and manuscripts often realised something important – that books are created by real people, people who once sat where they sit now.
That realisation is transformative.
It demystifies creativity and sends a powerful message: you can be a reader, a writer, and a creator.
When I was leading Newcastle City Council, I worked to bring Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library to the city. The principle behind it is beautifully straightforward. Each month, a carefully selected book is delivered to children from birth until the age of five. There are no barriers to access, no complexity, and no cost to families – simply the opportunity for every child to grow up surrounded by stories, language and imagination.
The programme reflects something fundamental: literacy starts long before school. Stories shared at home, pages turned together, and voices reading aloud help build vocabulary, emotional security and curiosity.
If we are serious about social mobility, we must be serious about literacy.
The gap in language development can emerge early. Children who hear and engage with language from the earliest years tend to build stronger foundations for learning across their lives. A book delivered through the letterbox is more than paper and ink. It is a signal that reading belongs to everyone.
But books are not only about childhood.
Reading is a lifelong companion
My greatest pleasure is finding myself lost in a new book – disappearing into unfamiliar worlds, discovering a new author, and feeling that familiar pull to read “just one more chapter”. There is something deeply human about that experience. The moment when a story captures your attention and time seems to slow. The joy of discovery is not only in finishing a book, but in starting another, in following curiosity from one voice to the next, and in feeling that quiet hunger to understand more.
That thirst to read is one of the most enduring gifts that books give us.
It can be an extraordinary experience to lose yourself in a book – to step away from the pressures of daily life and find escape, reflection or simply quiet distraction within the pages of a story. In open societies, books are among the most democratised cultural resources we have. They are available across class, geography and generation through strong public provision. That is why supporting and visiting our public libraries matters so deeply.
Public libraries are not relics of the past. They are foundations of the future.
They are spaces where knowledge is shared rather than owned, where curiosity is welcomed, and where people of all ages can learn without barriers. Whether it is a child discovering their first story, a student researching ideas, someone seeking employment advice, or an adult returning to reading after time away, the library remains one of the most quietly powerful civic institutions we possess.
It is also important to recognise the work of New Writing North, and the vital role it plays in encouraging new and diverse voices to be heard, supported and ultimately published. Organisations like this help ensure that storytelling reflects the breadth of lived experience across our communities. They provide pathways for emerging writers, particularly those who may not otherwise see themselves represented in the publishing world, and help to build confidence, skill and opportunity. Supporting institutions that nurture creativity is essential if we want our literary culture to remain vibrant, inclusive and genuinely representative.
This should be a campaign for everyone.
I would encourage every politician standing for election in the coming years to recognise that literacy, reading access and library provision are not peripheral cultural issues. They are central pillars of opportunity, equality and social progress. Investment in reading, early language development and public access to books is one of the most effective long-term investments any society can make.
If we are serious about social mobility, we must be serious about literacy. If we are serious about economic growth, we must be serious about education. And if we are serious about the next generation’s ability to think, create and lead, then we must protect and strengthen the places where stories live.
Books are not a luxury.
They are a foundation.
Books open minds. They build empathy. They strengthen language. They expand opportunity.
And sometimes, quietly and without ceremony, they change the direction of a life.
That is why reading matters – for children, for adults, and for communities.
And that is why stories will always endure.
