It seems ironic that within a Melbourne exhibition examining the legacy of the late, radical Australian artist Mike Brown, it was a new work of art that should have been found offensive and removed by police. The Linden Centre for Contemporary Arts has not defended artist Paul Yore, or the works in question. Instead, it immediately closed the gallery with no explanation, effectively also censoring the work of the other artists exhibiting. Its position seems a stark reminder that freedom of expression, which artists should be able to take for granted in any democratic country, is steadily being eroded in Australia.

Art can only mirror the culture which produced it. It shows us all of the positive aspects of humanity, but it is also the duty of art to examine the uncomfortable, dark stuff. Sometimes art will be troubling, but then so too will the society it is depicting. Intelligent, rational viewers of art acknowledge that while a work may sometimes challenge us or we may not agree with the artist’s point of view, a different perspective might be equally valid.

Unfortunately, it seems that challenging Australian art is attacked and censored. And if we are only permitted to view “correct”, officially sanctioned work then art’s primary function – to reveal us to ourselves – is destroyed. We only see half of our culture’s story. Like America, isolated Australia is puritanical in mindset and prudish about sexual matters, mistakenly confusing its deep-seated anxiety over sexuality for moral rectitude. This boils into moral panic when it comes to “difficult” art.

In 1963, Mike Brown’s large collage, Mary-Lou as Miss Universe, was withdrawn from an overseas tour after complaints over its content. Charges of obscenity were laid against Brown, who was later sentenced to three months in prison with hard labour, eventually reduced to a fine. More than 30 years later, Brown's work was still causing controversy: in 1999, his painting You're Welcome came under attack from the Catholic Archbishop of Perth – who had not personally seen the work – because it contained anti-religious phrases.

It is not a phenomenon limited to Brown. Juan Davila’s satirical work Stupid as a Painter, which depicted Marilyn Monroe masturbating, was removed from the 1982 Sydney Biennale. It was presumably the close proximity of a crucifix to her vagina that caused the uproar. And we are all very familiar with the Bill Henson case of 2008. The fact that the Australian censorship body eventually stated that Henson’s censored work was "not sexualised to any degree" must have been of small comfort the artist.

In the aftermath of the Henson debacle, extensive new guidelines were drafted by the Australia Council concerning the depiction of children in art, many of which are largely impracticable. Writer Frank Moorhouse told The Age that the protocols were "the most dangerous movement in the arts in my life time” and accused the Australia Council of failing in its duty to protect and promote art.

I'd argue that creating protocols for art is in itself an infringement of artistic freedom.

And now, in 2013, the serious intentions of an artist have again been hijacked and misrepresented by those who seem unable to tell the difference between actual, real life and fictional artifice; who are apparently dumbfounded by such elements as irony and social satire. Why should they have the power to deprive intelligent, rational viewers of engaging with “difficult” art?

Speaking on a television interview, several decades ago, the great Australian satirist Barry Humphries was asked why Australia produced so many excellent sports people. He thought for a moment, and then replied that it had a lot to do with good food, glorious weather, outdoors life – and the total absence of any kind of intellectual distraction.

His joke carried a core of truth. A whole generation of artists, writers and intellectuals, such as Humphries, Germaine Greer and Clive James had to leave Australia to be taken seriously. But then, Australia has never liked its artists. They make you think too much.