By Bart King

An urban blight is threatening Portland. No, not condominiums without adequate parking spaces, though those are quite worrisome. Rather, I refer to the scourge of Little Free Libraries.

Pat Opdyke of Portland is one person who has started a Little Free Library, where people can take a book and leave one. Throughout Portland, miniature neighborhood libraries are a growing trend.

I was first introduced to this menace as I walked past a neighbor's house. There, nestled cozily among the front yard's ferns and shrubbery, was a brightly painted box. Like a noxious mushroom, this box had seemingly sprouted overnight -- and behind its double glass doors were bookshelves loaded with fiction and nonfiction titles.

As I read the Little Free Library's sign ("Take a book, return a book!"), a chill ran down my spine. I can spot neo-socialism when I see it.

Little Free Libraries (LFLs) are spreading like an epidemic across the U.S., and there are now more than a dozen in the Portland metro area. The supposed intent of the LFL movement is to inspire reading. That is, since anyone can use an LFL to take (or leave) a book, free literature is available to any and all passers-by.

Some people will maintain that LFLs are harmless, but let's consider some of the threats they pose. For example, what organization polices the contents of these library boxes? What prevents patrons from stealing free books? And is the Dewey Decimal System being properly adhered to?

I'm also concerned that these libraries discriminate against 21st-century readers. To illustrate this, I took my e-reader to my nearby LFL. But after scouring the entire book-box, I was unable to discover any downloading capabilities. The shelves contained nothing but antiquated, physical books -- and on the back shelf, a few grains of what appeared to be salt.

The sharp-edged boxes themselves also pose safety concerns. Are Little Free Libraries constructed with the proper building permits? Are they earthquake-proof? And would a similar structure, like a geodesic dome or rabbit hutch, be allowed so close to a public sidewalk? I think not. For the protection of innocent pedestrians, building codes should be enforced by the book.

Perhaps most disturbingly, as Little Free Libraries spawn, they eradicate the need for actual libraries. At their current rate of reproduction, it's only a matter of time before pods of LFLs fill the spaces once occupied by our legitimate Multnomah County Library branches.

So let me appeal to our city to take a page from enlightened places like Whitefish Bay, Wis. There, the municipal government has restricted LFLs in the community -- and I'm sure the standard of living is all the better because of it.

But perhaps I'm being too hasty. After all, good government is about the arts of diplomacy and compromise. In this spirit, perhaps Portland's most rabid LFL adherents can be allowed to keep their libraries -- in their own backyards.

Yes, this would force patrons to trespass on private property to visit the Little Free Libraries. But surely a misdemeanor is a small price to pay for making our neighborhoods safer? As Robert Heinlein once almost wrote, "There ain't no such thing as a free book."

Author Bart King lives in Southeast Portland.