Silenced for Her Beliefs, The Poet Who Took a Stand

Who is Sibyl Ruth?

For those who haven’t heard of her, Sibyl is a British poet, editor, and a bold defender of free speech. Her poetry has been featured in anthologies and on BBC Radio 4, and she’s mentored countless emerging writers. But her story goes beyond poetry. She’s made headlines for standing up for her beliefs, even when it’s cost her.

In 2022, Sibyl was deplatformed by Cornerstones Literary Consultancy over her gender-critical views, sparking a legal battle that concluded in 2023 with a financial settlement and a public apology. Her case has become a landmark in the UK’s debate over the limits of free expression, especially in the arts and publishing.

For Sibyl, it’s not just about the words on the page, it’s about the freedom to speak your mind, even when it challenges the norm. With the release of a troubling new report from Freedom in the Arts (FITA), titled Afraid to Speak Freely, we thought it would be the perfect time to ask her about her own story and the larger issue of free speech in today’s cultural landscape.

Unpacking Our Conversation

Sibyl, what first drew you to poetry and writing as a form of expression?

My parents both felt that well-behaved children said very little, and I was always being told to be quiet. I began writing when I was very young – probably because it gave me a way to let my thoughts and feelings out. I also loved escaping into poems and stories, so it felt natural to want to become a writer myself.

You’ve worked as a mentor to emerging poets. What role does mentorship play in shaping a writer’s career?

In my twenties, I attended a women’s creative writing class taught by Michele Roberts at City Lit in London, and later went to Arvon Foundation residential courses. Learning from experienced writers helped me hugely at the start. Mentoring is partly about careful, skilled reading, which can help emerging writers see their work afresh and imagine how it comes across to others.

Much of your poetry explores identity and the human experience. Was writing always political or personal for you?

Yes. Studying English Literature at university exposed me to a rather sterile form of literary criticism, and I wanted to get away from that. I was also very influenced by second-wave feminism in my early years—its ideas naturally made their way into my work. That said, I also write reviews and critical pieces, which I think has helped me stay open to a variety of perspectives.

Your legal battle with Cornerstones became a turning point in your career. What happened?

I had started assessing a manuscript when I was suddenly told to stop. I assumed it was a mix-up. Then an email went round to all editors at the consultancy, saying they wouldn’t work with people who contravened their values or expressed hate. I replied that I supported equality, and that being able to discuss women’s sex-based rights was part of that. I referenced the Forstater case and said my views were protected. Shortly after, my profile vanished from the website. When I queried this, I was told they were reviewing who they planned to work with.

That’s when I reached out to the Free Speech Union, who were incredibly helpful. I later found, through pre-Tribunal disclosures, that the issue was two comments I had made on X about someone transitioning. I had said that someone with heavy five o’clock shadow could wear feminine clothes, but it didn’t make them a woman—and that claiming otherwise created nightmarish situations for women.

Why did you decide to take legal action?

I was a professional editor. I thought it was wrong to have work taken from me just for expressing ordinary views on a matter of public debate, on my personal account. It felt feudal—like displeasing someone at the top meant you could be erased without recourse. I wanted to test whether the law allowed that. Thankfully, the Equality Act protected me.

How did the case affect you personally and professionally?

It was a shock. Litigation is all-consuming, and I had to actively seek moments of normality. Most of my friends and family were supportive, but some people I had been close to insisted my views were “hateful.” Professionally, I stepped back from writing and publishing while the case was ongoing. I realised that the industry had grown hostile to people like me. I remember being horrified seeing a literary agent compare gender-critical people to Nazis and racists—especially painful given my German-Jewish family history and relatives killed in the Shoah.

I didn’t write much during that time. I wasn’t in the right mental space for it. I just tried to stay practical.

Do you think your case will have a lasting impact on free speech in the arts?

I’d like to think it emboldened others, but litigation is costly and draining. Even when successful, people rarely return to their old roles. Most writers earn very little from their work, and understandably fear jeopardising what they have. I’m hopeful that other cases—like Ursula Doyle’s tribunal against Hachette—along with recent rulings, will convince the industry that gender-critical views are lawful and shouldn’t be grounds for discrimination.

Is there a “culture of ideological policing” in the arts?

Yes. It’s less about debating views and more about scaring people into silence. Just look at the vitriol aimed at JK Rowling—a woman whose books have brought joy to millions and who pays her taxes and supports charities. That terrifies others. Kate Clanchy was similarly demonised despite writing an award-winning, compassionate memoir.

Agents openly reject submissions from gender-critical authors. Meanwhile, YA literature heavily promotes gender identity ideology, while ignoring the concerns raised in the Cass Review about the effects of medical and social transitioning on young people.

Has the environment for free speech in the UK’s cultural sector improved or worsened since your case?

Despite some positive rulings, I think the situation remains precarious. Many in the arts are on freelance or insecure contracts, which discourages speaking out. The response to the recent Supreme Court ruling in For Women Scotland has been muted. Part of the problem is a belief that art should serve a narrow vision of social progress. But that often ends up being elitist or exclusionary.

Why is gender such a contentious issue in artistic spaces?

Academia plays a role—many artists have humanities degrees, where theories like “queer theory” are widespread. Also, funding priorities push organisations to demonstrate diversity. That leads to artists pitching work that “ticks boxes,” and distancing themselves from anyone with controversial views.

Add to that the branding pressure from social media, where engagement thrives on outrage and conflict. Stonewall’s “no debate” mantra has also been corrosive.

What responsibility do cultural institutions have in protecting viewpoint diversity?

There’s a tension between pushing social change and allowing dissent. Ironically, some “progressive” views are actually regressive or elitist. Helen Joyce recently said publishing isn’t progressive—it’s reactive. It jumps on bandwagons. That means only certain views get published or promoted.

In an ideal world, literary bodies would better reflect their audience. But because publishing is dominated by a narrow social class, they often ignore alternative viewpoints. I think universities also need to do more to promote critical thinking and embed free speech as a cultural value.

Looking back—from poetry to litigation—what keeps you going?

You can’t write well if you can’t express yourself freely. I care deeply about good writing, and about people being able to access a variety of perspectives. My mother was born in Berlin in 1926. Her childhood was spent under a regime that silenced dissent. That family history gives me a very clear sense of how dangerous it can be when voices are suppressed. You have to stand up for your principles, even when it’s scary—because you will find others who stand with you.

If you could redesign the UK’s cultural sector to better protect freedom of expression, what three changes would you make?

What’s next for you: as a writer, an advocate, and someone who has faced the challenges of standing up for your beliefs in the arts world?

I am writing articles on cultural issues, as well as some reviews. I would like to get back to writing some fiction and/or poetry before long. I shall keep on speaking about the need for freedom of expression in the arts. It is vital that the conversation continues.

What Can We Learn from Sibyl's Journey?

Sibyl's journey from poet to defender of free speech underscores the need to protect diverse perspectives in the cultural sector. Her legal battle highlights the fragility of free expression and the dangers of ideological conformity in the arts. Through her courage, she has become a symbol of resistance against a culture that silences dissent.

Read more on censorship in the arts here.

Alexandra Audrey Tompson

Editor-in-Chief | Lawyer (Admitted in New York; England & Wales)

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Sibyl Ruth

British Poet | Editor | Free Speech Advocate

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