At first glance, the Ministry of Culture’s decision to hold the seventh Tehran International Book Fair in a virtual format is an understandable response to the country’s “special conditions” and the ongoing wartime situation. For many observers of the book sector, it had already been foreseeable that holding the country’s largest annual cultural event in person would not be possible this year, and thus the announcement did not come as much of a surprise. Yet beyond this obvious reality, what emerges at a deeper level is a sign of the fragile—indeed, in a sense “emergency”—state of Iran’s publishing industry. The decision to move the book fair online, more than simply altering its format, lifts the curtain on a long-standing truth: Iran’s publishing sector suffers from weak resilience and is seriously shaken by any external shock.

The Tehran Book Fair is not merely a cultural event; it is the backbone of the publishing economy in Iran. In years when the fair was held in person, the presence of millions of visitors over a short period provided a relatively deep breath for publishers, booksellers, authors, creators, and, of course, readers and customers. In some years, daily attendance approached one million people, generating financial turnover amounting to several thousand billion tomans within the publishing sector. Many publishers realized a significant portion of their annual sales during those ten days.

Now that the event has been compelled to move online, a key question arises: do the country’s publishing infrastructures have the capacity to replace this vital function? A look at current conditions suggests that the answer is not encouraging. These inadequate infrastructures are not unique to the present wartime period; even under normal circumstances, they have not functioned effectively in serving the book sector. That said, war and both internal and external tensions clearly exacerbate these shortcomings. In this light, rather than focusing on whether the exhibition is virtual or physical, attention should be directed toward organizing and strengthening the industry’s sustainable infrastructure.

The first and perhaps most fundamental crisis is paper—an input whose production in Iran is severely limited and whose dependence on imports has made the publishing industry highly vulnerable to currency fluctuations and trade disruptions. The continuous rise in paper prices has sharply increased the cost of book production, pushing final prices beyond the reach of a large segment of readers. This vicious cycle has led to reduced demand and, ultimately, declining print runs. Today, book print runs in Iran in many cases have fallen below 300 copies—a figure that not only marks a significant departure from the industry’s past but also compares unfavorably even with less-developed countries. This decline is not merely an economic indicator; it signals a shrinking “circle of real book readers.”

Alongside these challenges, Iran’s book distribution system suffers from serious structural weaknesses. The concentration of resources in Tehran and a few major cities has made access to books in many smaller cities and less-developed regions both difficult and costly. The book fair had, to some extent, helped bridge this gap; but with its shift to a virtual format, the question arises whether all audiences have equal access to the infrastructure required to benefit from it. Disruptions in free, equal, and easy access to the internet—stemming from the country’s security conditions—provide a clear answer.

At the same time, shifts in patterns of cultural consumption must not be overlooked. Intense competition from digital media, social networks, and short-form content has reduced the share of books in the cultural consumption basket. In such conditions, any disruption in supply or increase in prices can further erode that share.

That said, the decision to hold the fair virtually should not necessarily be seen as a step backward. The experience of the COVID-19 period showed that this model can offer advantages, including broader geographic reach and reduced participation costs for audiences. However, the reality is that a “virtual exhibition” can never fully replace the “cultural life of an in-person fair”—a setting in which direct engagement with books, conversations with publishers and authors, and the collective experience of culture play a decisive role in promoting reading.

The core issue, therefore, is not whether the fair is held physically or virtually, but the absence of a comprehensive and coherent strategy to rescue the publishing industry. What is felt today more than ever is the need for “centralized, urgent, and fundamental management” in the book sector—management capable of going beyond short-term, stopgap measures to reform the flawed structures of the industry and fundamentally facilitate its processes. Such management must place several key decisions on its agenda:

First, organizing the paper market, reducing dependence on imports, addressing the imported paper market, and confronting the “mafia” involved in the trade of paper and publishing supplies. These goals can be achieved through targeted support for domestic production and greater transparency in the supply chain. Without resolving this issue, any other supportive policy will remain temporary and limited in impact.

Second, redesigning the book subsidy system. Subsidies that are currently distributed mainly in the form of exhibition vouchers should be targeted in a way that both strengthens real demand and ensures the sustainability of bookstores across the country.

Third, reforming the distribution system. Establishing and supporting efficient distribution networks, backing local bookstores, and leveraging technological capacities to deliver books to remote areas are essential requirements in this field.

Fourth, strengthening digital publishing infrastructure without sacrificing print publishing. The future of publishing will undoubtedly be a combination of both, and policymaking must facilitate this coexistence.

Fifth, redefining the place of books within the country’s broader cultural policies. Books are not a luxury commodity but a foundation for cultural, intellectual, and even economic development. Ignoring this position will carry costs far greater than today’s temporary crises. The marginalization of this strategic good in cultural policymaking is, indeed, both surprising and regrettable.

This year’s virtual exhibition, more than a solution, is a “warning”—a warning about an industry that has long been kept afloat with temporary remedies and now requires fundamental treatment. If this warning is not taken seriously, there is a real risk that in the not-so-distant future there will be neither a vibrant exhibition nor the readers who once eagerly stood in long lines to buy books.