Suppose that, in 2022, the legislature of Ramerica — a modern, industrial nation — voted to build a wall on its borders, the stated intent of which would be to deter enemies from attacking the nation via horseback. Ramerica’s president knows that modern technology renders the wall useless, but he fears that he’ll lose the upcoming election if he doesn’t sign the bill into law. (He had campaigned on “keeping our land safe from marauders on horseback wielding bows and arrows.”)
I’m not naive enough to think that all of Ramerica’s citizens know how ridiculous this plan is, but I’m hopeful that most will see its cynical political posturing. Polling has not determined how effective people believe the wall would be, but it doesn’t really matter. Politicians understand that their survival depends on their constituents feeling safe — even from dubious threats. Regurgitating baseless talking points has had, alternately, an anesthetizing or an invigorating effect on their voters.
This metaphor is an apt proxy for a real scenario that is playing out across our nation regarding efforts to ban books in public schools — and even on college campuses. Of course, the great irony is that the people who complain the loudest about “censorship” tend to be the very ones who lead book banning campaigns.
I understand — and genuinely sympathize with — the parental impulse to shield children from materials that they find to be objectionable or not age-appropriate. (Conversely, as a parent of teens, I frequently feel that I am the one who needs protection from the media that they consume.) The challenge is that most children, even ones who are in elementary school, can access essentially any content if they have internet access. Thus, the “wall” of book banning is useless. Further, the greatest incentive for youth to access such materials is to be told that they shouldn’t do so. (Far too many legislators and parents have forgotten what it’s like to be young.)
Most parents who think that they have their children’s online habits “on lock” are fooling themselves. Place parental controls on kids’ phones? At least seven of their friends lack such controls. More importantly, children have spent years dissecting their parents’ words and observing their behaviors. If I had a dollar for every time my kids have called me a hypocrite … I’d have a lot of dollars. That’s a story for another day.
To be sure, this issue doesn’t always break down along ideological or political lines. A couple decades ago I worked for a major corporation that was headquartered in a small town. Several members of the Black community, including some who held senior positions in the company (and were politically liberal), wanted to ban Huckleberry Finn from classrooms. The rationale was that Mark Twain’s classic text makes repeated use of the so-called N-word. The town had an egregious racial history, and, to make matters worse, the Black population was very small. Given that there were often fewer than five Black children at a time in any given classroom, these parents’ and community members’ concerns were very understandable. But attempting to ban that book was not the best response; it was the easiest one.
So, how should we address this issue as a society? First and foremost, we must embrace open, honest and respectful dialogue across racial, class, religious and political lines. Democracy cannot be sustained when teachers, administrators and school board members face harassment — and even death threats — for merely doing their jobs. Second, we must implement policies and processes that balance parental input with the right of school officials to do their jobs without fear of excessive interference or the threat of retaliatory termination. Third, we must collectively confront the small number of hyper-aggressive people who threaten violence against those with whom they disagree. In some cases that means personal intervention with friends and family members; in others it means swiftly involving law enforcement and, when necessary, the court system.
The pandemic has exacerbated, or even caused, widespread psychological trauma. Add to that the cynical, insidious and intentional injection of poisonous politics — especially the stoking of racial fears about people of color — into virtually every aspect of our society. Our future looks bleak. Yet, I remain hopeful that those who write the story of these times won’t be hampered by people who believe that building walls is better than building bridges.
Larry Smith is a community leader. Contact him at larry@leaf-llc.com.
