The current state of affairs in American school districts, some libraries, and arts organization is that it only takes one complaint to cancel what the majority might benefit from if these organizations weren’t so easily intimidated. Two recent cases illustrate this trend, one in Florida and one in Utah.

In Florida, one parent complained to the Miami-Dade School District about Amanda Gorman’s Inauguration poem, “The Hill We Climb” along with several other books. The complaint was promptly referred to a committee, where it was determined that one of the books was “balanced and age appropriate and would remain available for all students.” The others, including Gorman’s poem, were restricted to middle-school students only.

A not dissimilar situation recently unfolded in Utah. Again one parent was the complainant. The complaint was that the King James Bible was unsuitable for children due to “vulgarity and violence.” The parent did provide eight pages of passages to show that the Bible is inappropriate. The Davis School District committee concluded that the Bible “does not contain sensitive material” according to Utah’s criminal code, which defines pornographic and harmful materials. Thus, the book was allowed to remain on high school library shelves. It was, however, removed from elementary and junior high schools. This complaint and result was quickly followed by a second complaint by an individual demanding that the  Book of the Mormon be removed from the Davis School District school libraries due to violent content.” The same committee will review the book.

In both of these cases, the books were not banned outright, but restricted because they were “age inappropriate.” One has to think that all the books in an elementary or middle-school library have been vetted by educators and librarians, only to have their judgment “corrected” by an individual parent.

And the threat of a single complaint is spilling over into public libraries and the arts as well. The complaint of a one parent caused a Texas elementary school trip to James and the Giant Peach to be canceled, thus depriving an entire class the opportunity to experience a children’s theatre production rather than keeping one girl home. A theatre director I know is, because of the touchiness of her administration, very concerned about receiving any complaints at all about any production. Needless to say, this has a chilling effect on the choice of plays and the manner of production.

One wonders whether the schools and libraries who cave to the demand of a single complaint have it right. It is, after all, a single complaint, not a majority clamoring for the removal of a certain title. Wouldn’t it be more responsible to say to that individual, “don’t read it,” or “don’t let your child read it,” rather than penalize all who use the library? Perhaps the library in question could keep a list of restricted patrons rather than a list of restricted titles. That way, the vast majority of those who don’t object to the material being available could be better served than by removing the book from availability because of single complaint.

And all of that goes double for those books that are not just “restricted,” but entirely banned. It is obvious that most of the book-banning and book-restricting demands are politically motivated—and do not represent a majority of library patrons. And let’s not forget that the majority of books being banned are by minority authors, many of whom, as Gorman says, “have struggled for generations to get on the bookshelves.” Perhaps author Stephen King has put it most succinctly: “Book-banners, after all, insist that the entire community should see things their way, and only their way. When a book is banned, a whole set of thoughts is locked behind the assertion that there is only one valid set of values, one valid set of beliefs, one valid perception of the world. It’s a scary idea, especially in a society which has been built on the idea of free choice and free thought.” And it only takes one.