The books sleep untouched, reading is 'such a drag', and every reading moment at home ends in resistance or a yawn. You worry that he doesn't read, and at the same time you fear that insisting will make him hate it even more.
His refusal to read worries you —you know how much it matters— and tempts you to force it, reward it, or compare him with the sibling who does read. Breathe. A child who doesn't want to read is almost never a 'lazy' child: either he hasn't found what hooks him, or reading is harder for him than he shows, or he associates it with obligation and correction. Forcing reading as punishment is the perfect recipe for making him hate it. Your task isn't to impose it, it's to make it appealing again — and, if you suspect it's genuinely hard for him, to find out why.
Separate the 'won't' from the 'can't'. That a child isn't drawn to reading has very different causes that call for different answers. Sometimes it's that he hasn't yet found the kind of reading that hooks him (comics, topics he's passionate about, audiobooks, not just school novels). Sometimes it's that reading was always presented to him as duty and correction, and got associated with something tedious. And sometimes —this is key to rule out— reading is genuinely hard for him because of an undetected difficulty (dyslexia or another), and he avoids reading because it feels exhausting or frustrating, not because he's lazy. The love of reading is caught and cultivated far more than it's imposed: with access to materials that interest him, with adults who read and read with him for pleasure, without turning every page into a test. And comprehension matters more than quantity. Watch for the warning sign: if the resistance hides a real difficulty, the sooner it's detected, the better.
Don't use reading as punishment or as a painful obligation: it's the fastest way to make him associate it with something hateful. Don't correct every word or turn every reading moment into a comprehension test: it kills the pleasure. Don't compare him with siblings or classmates who do read: it adds shame. Don't force him to finish books he doesn't like just to finish them: abandoning the boring is legitimate. Don't dismiss what he does like to read (comics, magazines, 'minor' topics) as if it didn't count: it counts, a lot. And don't ignore the possibility that it's genuinely hard for him: insisting he 'try harder' in the face of a real difficulty only increases the frustration.
No ranking, on purpose: no two children are alike, and yours isn't even the same as yesterday. Read which one fits your home, today — or combine them.
Instead of imposing 'reading', help him find WHAT to read: comics, books about what he's passionate about (dinosaurs, soccer, mystery), audiobooks, magazines, even manuals for his games. Let him choose and abandon what he doesn't like. 'You don't have to read this; let's look for something that grabs you.' The goal is for him to discover that reading can be pleasure, and for that the material has to be his, not what you think he should like.
The taste for reading is contagious: let him see you reading for pleasure, read aloud to him even when he can already do it alone (it's a shared pleasure, not a regression), take turns with pages, comment on what you read like someone sharing something delicious. A cozy reading moment with no evaluation —in bed, on the sofa— associates books with closeness and enjoyment, not duty. Modeling and the bond do more than any obligation.
If you suspect it's not 'won't' but 'can't' —he reads well below his age, avoids reading aloud, tires or gets frustrated very fast, mixes up letters, has poor comprehension despite trying— talk with the school and consider an assessment. A reading difficulty detected in time is worked on very well; undetected, it's lived as failure and lowers self-esteem. Ruling it out is an act of care, not alarm.
The pleasure of reading is cultivated daily and without pressure, in cozy moments, not in forced sessions with the clock and correction on top. The best moments are the relaxed ones: before sleep, a weekend, unhurried. Align with whoever parents with you and with the school on not turning reading into a battlefield. If a difficulty needs ruling out, talk with the teachers soon. And be patient: the love of reading awakens at different ages and by strange paths; holding the access and the example without forcing pays off more in the long run than winning tonight's fight over the book.
The lack of interest in reading is usually worked on at home and at school with access, example and patience. It's worth talking with the teachers and considering an assessment —with the school, a learning specialist, or the pediatrician— if you suspect there's a real difficulty behind it: he reads well below what's expected for his age despite trying, avoids reading with distress, mixes up or reverses letters persistently, has very poor comprehension, or the rejection of reading comes with intense frustration and a blow to self-esteem. Detecting dyslexia or another learning difficulty in time completely changes his school experience. This is peer commentary, not clinical or pedagogical advice: when in doubt, an early assessment tells disinterest apart from a difficulty that deserves support.
Everything in this house is peer commentary and suggestion — it does not replace professional help. It's every mother's and every father's responsibility to notice the situation and to seek it when it can serve. If you need a number, check the directory of helplines by country. The full disclaimer, here.
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