The Problem with White Authors Writing Black and BIPOC Characters

In recent years, the publishing industry has seen an increased push for diversity, with more books featuring Black and other BIPOC characters hitting the shelves. On the surface, this seems like progress. But a deeper look reveals a troubling pattern: many of these books are still being written by white authors. While some may have good intentions, this practice raises serious concerns about cultural appropriation, authenticity, and systemic biases within the publishing world. Who gets to tell these stories—and who gets paid for them—matters.

Cultural Appropriation vs. Appreciation

There’s a fine line between cultural appreciation and appropriation, and white authors writing BIPOC stories often cross it. Cultural appropriation occurs when elements of a culture are taken and used by outsiders without understanding or respecting their significance. In literature, this means white authors mining Black and Indigenous experiences for stories while BIPOC writers struggle to get published.

Take Gerald McDermott, for example. If you grew up reading picture books, you’ve likely encountered his work. While his art and storytelling introduced many to mythology, but much of his work draws from marginalized cultures. Dr. Debbie Reese of Nambé Pueblo has pointed out multiple cultural inaccuracies in McDermott’s Arrow to the Sun—issues he wouldn’t have recognized because he isn’t from the Pueblo communities.

Today, there are more BIPOC-authored children’s books available than ever before, yet many public and school libraries still hold onto books like Arrow to the Sun. The question remains: Are we making space for authentic voices, or are we still prioritizing outdated perspectives?

Issues of Authenticity

Authenticity in storytelling matters because books shape public perception. When white authors write BIPOC characters, they often rely on secondhand research, stereotypes, or shallow portrayals rather than lived experience. This leads to misrepresentation, whether it’s the trope of the “magical Black best friend,” trauma narratives, or characters that don’t sound like real members of the communities they’re meant to represent.

For example, books like The Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell have been widely criticized for their inaccurate and romanticized portrayal of Indigenous history. Though long considered a classic, the book misrepresents the real-life Nicoleño people and erases their true history. When authenticity is missing, these books don’t just fail as literature—they actively harm real communities by reinforcing false narratives.

Systemic Bias in Publishing

One of the biggest reasons white authors dominate BIPOC narratives is systemic racism within the publishing industry. The industry remains overwhelmingly white at every level, from literary agents to editors to marketing teams. According to Lee & Low’s 2023 Diversity Baseline Survey, 72.5% of publishing employees identified as white, while only 5.3% identified as Black, African American, or Afro-Caribbean. This disparity creates a bias in which white authors are more likely to be published and promoted—even when writing stories about communities they don’t belong to.

A 2024 study by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center found that, for the first time, over half (51%) of new titles contained “significant BIPOC content”—whether through a main character, secondary character, or cultural theme. However, only 41% of these books had at least one BIPOC author, illustrator, or compiler, while 70% had at least one white creator.

A troubling trend has emerged: white authors (often listed first) are frequently paired with BIPOC illustrators or co-authors. While increased diversity in publishing is a positive step, this pattern does little to address the deeper issue of white authors telling stories from cultures they don’t belong to.

The publishing industry also treats diversity as a trend, prioritizing books that fit a marketable “diverse” narrative over those that reflect authentic BIPOC experiences. This is why white authors writing about race and identity frequently receive book deals, while BIPOC writers face systemic barriers—lower advances, fewer marketing resources, and pressure to ensure “universal” appeal. As a result, white authors continue to profit from Black and BIPOC stories, while BIPOC voices remain overlooked.

The Impact on Readers and Communities

The consequences of these publishing trends extend beyond bookshelves. When inauthentic stories dominate the market, they shape how BIPOC communities are viewed by outsiders and even how individuals see themselves. Harmful narratives contribute to stereotypes that influence real-world attitudes and policies.

For example, books that portray Black and Indigenous people only through trauma narratives reinforce the idea that these communities are defined solely by struggle. This can affect how they are treated in schools, workplaces, and even the justice system. Likewise, romanticized or inaccurate depictions of cultural traditions can distort historical realities and erase lived experiences.

BIPOC readers deserve stories that reflect their full humanity—not just through pain, but through joy, love, and everyday experiences. When publishing prioritizes white voices over BIPOC voices, it deprives readers of the representation they deserve.

What Needs to Change?

To create a more equitable publishing industry, real systemic changes need to happen:

• Prioritizing BIPOC authors writing their own stories. Publishers must actively seek out and support authentic voices rather than rewarding white authors for writing “diverse” books.

• Challenging the dominance of white authors in BIPOC narratives. White authors should recognize when their voice isn’t needed and use their platform to uplift BIPOC writers instead of taking space.

• Readers being intentional with their support. Readers can help shift the industry by choosing to buy, read, and recommend books by BIPOC authors instead of white authors writing about BIPOC experiences.

Conclusion

Diversity in literature is crucial, but true representation requires more than just inserting BIPOC characters into stories written by white authors. It means ensuring that BIPOC voices are heard, valued, and given the opportunities they deserve in publishing. Readers, writers, and publishers all have a role in dismantling these systemic issues.

The next time you pick up a book about a BIPOC character, ask yourself: Who wrote this story, and whose voice is missing?