When Bernardine Evaristo shared the Booker Prize stage in 2019, it was more than a literary win—it was a moment of visibility for Black British writers in an industry long criticized for its narrow lens. But visibility is not parity.
While Black authors in America have seen rising momentum in recent years, thanks to public pressure campaigns like #PublishingPaidMe and significant DEI investments, the British publishing landscape remains cautious, under-resourced, and opaque. The disparities run deep: from the size of book advances to access to editorial teams, award nominations, and career pipelines.
In this article, we examine the structural inequalities that shape the experiences of Black British authors and ask: Are they really given the same shot at success as their peers across the Atlantic?
Black British authors face markedly different publishing conditions than their American counterparts. In the UK market – smaller and more centralized – only 23 Black‑authored titles reached the top 1,000 bestsellers in 2023, generating £10.1 million versus £700 million for all titles; this underrepresentation limits visibility and bargaining power for advances. In contrast, U.S. Black authors, while still underpaid relative to white peers, benefit from a larger market, more pronounced advocacy movements, and established DEI initiatives – though gaps remain, with only 6.28% of authors identifying as Black despite comprising over 12% of the workforce. Systemic biases in both markets manifest in lower advances, fewer award nominations, and limited editorial diversity, but the U.S. industry’s scale and recent transparency efforts offer pathways that UK publishing has yet to match.
The U.S. trade publishing market, valued at over $25 billion annually, dwarfs the UK’s £6 billion industry, providing American authors broader distribution channels and higher sales ceilings. In 2023, only 23 Black‑authored books appeared among the UK’s top 1,000 bestsellers, a paltry 2.3% – with total sales of £10.1 million compared to £700 million for all titles, highlighting a stark visibility gap. By contrast, while exact bestseller counts for Black authors in the U.S. are similarly limited, the larger overall market means even niche successes can translate into higher absolute sales and more substantial advances.
Advances are calculated based on projected sales, comparable titles, and author platform. In the U.S., the #PublishingPaidMe campaign revealed that Black authors often receive mid-five‑figure advances, whereas white peers on similar trajectories secure six‑figure deals; this transparency has spurred publishers to reconsider pay equity. In the UK, lack of advance transparency and fewer high‑profile Black authors contribute to even smaller upfront payments; Hachette UK’s 2021 “Changing the Story” audit acknowledged these gaps but has yet to produce published targets for Black author advances. Without standard benchmarks or public disclosure, UK Black writers negotiate in the dark, limiting their leverage.
The U.S. benefits from established fellowships such as PEN America’s Emerging Voices Fellowship, and industry‑wide DEI programs that offer multi‑month mentorships, workshops, and paid residencies, helping writers build credentials and negotiate stronger deals. In Britain, initiatives like the Oxford “Diversity in British Literature” project have documented underrepresentation—fewer than 100 non‑white British titles among thousands published in 2016—and spurred local mentorship schemes, but these remain fragmented and underfunded. The result: American Black authors more often access structured career pipelines, while UK counterparts rely on ad hoc festivals or charity‑led support.
A majority‑white UK publishing workforce correlates with fewer acquisitions of Black‑authored manuscripts; recent industry insiders report UK publishing is “less accessible” to Black authors now than five years ago, as DEI efforts recede into trend‑based initiatives. In the U.S., Lee & Low’s 2024 Diversity Baseline Survey documented slow but measurable gains in staff and acquisition diversity across major houses, though progress remains uneven. These structural differences mean American Black writers often negotiate with more sympathetic editorial teams, whereas UK writers confront greater implicit bias in acquisitions.
U.S. Black authors have achieved high‑profile wins – the Pulitzer, National Book Award, and National Book Critics Circle – fueling media coverage and stronger subsequent advances. In the UK, Bernardine Evaristo’s 2019 Booker Prize win for Girl, Woman, Other marked a breakthrough, yet few Black British writers have followed suit; industry reports show nomination diversity remains limited, especially in children’s and commercial fiction. This disparity in accolades further amplifies the opportunity gap between UK and U.S. Black authors.
Both markets leverage festivals to boost visibility, but the U.S. boasts larger-scale events (e.g., Harlem Book Fair) with national media reach. UK festivals like the Black British Book Festival provide vital stages and on course to providing commercial infrastructure to drive bestseller status in the way U.S. fairs can. While UK festivals generate local buzz, American events often secure broadcast partnerships and major sponsorships, translating into broader market impact.
The disparity between Black British and African-American authors isn’t just a publishing concern; it’s a cultural reckoning. It asks: Whose stories get preserved? Whose voices are considered literary? And who gets to be called a success?
Publishing isn’t just about books, it’s about power, permanence, and permission. And for far too long, Black British authors have had to write against a current, pushing not only to tell their stories, but to prove that those stories are worth telling at all.
But we are not without agency. Festivals like the Black British Book Festival are shifting the narrative, bringing readers, writers, publishers, and gatekeepers into the same room, and daring them to dream bigger, braver, and bolder. We need more than DEI statements; we need enduring structures: mentorships, marketing muscle, meaningful money, and a publishing ecosystem that nurtures, not just notices, Black talent.
To level the playing field, UK publishers must look inward with courage and outward with commitment. Invest not just in diversity, but in development. Don’t just acquire Black stories, amplify them. Build careers, not moments.
And to every Black British author who continues to write in the margins and between the lines, know this: you are not behind. You’re ahead – writing futures many have not yet dared to imagine.