The struggle starts here

Last month, ASDA removed Jacqueline Wilson's book My Sister Jodie from its shelves after a single complaint from one customer about the use of the word "twat."

Her publisher Random House actually altered the text of the book, changing "twat" to "twit" on all future copies, in response to three complaints.

Best-selling former children's laureate Wilson used the word in the vocabulary of a bad character to epitomise her rudeness.

In one fell swoop, on the basis of four people whinging about a book that has sold over 150,000 copies, the publishers turned that character into a weak caricature, saddling her with a word that no self-respecting bully would ever utter.

I think that twat was a particularly clever word to choose in the first place - striking the right balance between vividly painting the villain and still avoiding the true swearwords that such a character would use constantly in the real world.

Meanwhile, over 800 authors have now signed up to the No To Age Banding petition to fight the publishers who plan to print little logos on the back of young people's books explaining what ages should read them.

And this week, despite having signed up to the petition and stated in no uncertain terms that she opposes age banding, Wilson's latest book Cookie was banded "for 9+" on the hardback edition.

Apparently, Wilson felt that she couldn't stop it happening because Random House had manufactured unusual packaging at great expense - the book comes in a biscuit tin - and placed the age banding on before the controversy broke.

She said that she didn't want to be "mean" or "ungracious" to her publisher. Random House itself said that it would review the situation with Wilson on a book-by-book basis.

Age banding is yet another example of parents and teachers having the responsibility of individual nurture removed from them and placed in the hands of a commercial firm - in this case, the publisher.

This is utterly ludicrous considering that young people develop at such extraordinarily different rates. It also dangerously stigmatises books.

Kids will fetishise the books marked for older readers and take the piss out of people reading the books marked for younger children. How on earth will someone who is young for their age ever make it through to the older stuff?

Worst of all, it says to parents: "You don't need to check this stuff. Some expert has assessed it for you, you can just buy blind and bung it in little Jenny's schoolbag."

Such grand standing-down of traditional responsibilities is a core of the problem of youth today, not a solution. If even Wilson is struggling in the fight, we know where the power lies.

Beyond this single issue, I believe that a fundamental US-style battle for freedom of expression is brewing in Britain. It may have started small, far from sexy political front lines, yet it has started and it's going to be vicious.

There's a man on trial right now for writing a pornographic rape fantasy about Girls Aloud and publishing it on a porn website. Yes, it's gross. But it's the written word, not actions or images - just dirty imagination and a pen.

So, here's a challenge for every author and reader who has signed up to No To Age Banding. We need a direct action response, not just liberal hand-wringing.

I propose guerilla stickering over the age bands on books. Simply acquire a pile of small rectangular stickers. Any colour you like. Blank or, if you've got the resources, printed with some swish message like "You decide, you're the parent!"

Then troop to Borders and Waterstones and get stickering before it's too late.

This sounds daft, but we are going to need to defend expression very hard over the next few years, especially if Britain embraces a socially regressive Tory government. And if we're to win or even survive, the battle will involve prolonged direct action in towns right across the country.

We might as well get practising on the kids' books.

You can contact Chris T-T at chris@christt.com