Friday 14 October 2011

The Porn Wars never ended: why we're still getting it wrong decades later.


In an effort to bring the sexual proclivities of modern Britain in line with the Tory vision for society – middle class couples with 2.5 children spending their Saturdays gardening and their Sundays performing the ritualistic once-a-week missionary position– Prime Minister David Cameron is looking to restrict access to internet pornography.

Lining up meetings with four top Internet Service Providers, Cameron is pushing for an ‘opt-in’ scheme to access adult content. Ostensibly the scheme is to protect children from being exposed to porn.  Faced with the cheek-scalding embarrassment of having to discuss your Sunday evening masturbatory habits with Sal in the BT Internet call centre, however, it seems likely that scores of people will essentially be goaded into locking themselves into a no-sex contract. Not a problem for a government that aims to recreate Victorian Britain, work houses and all: dismantling the welfare state and relying on private benefactors; leaving the poor to languish in gutters and beg for loose change; and making sure no-one thinks about, let alone takes part in sex that isn’t for the sole purpose of producing children inside a stable marriage.

It would not be unfair to suggest that a desire to instil a stiff-upper-lip-and-not-much-else attitude to sex might have something to do with the proposals. This is the party that introduced Section 28 – banning the discussion of homosexuality in schools – and recently attempted to make sex education optional. Essentially, they sent a message to a whole generation that you should only hop on the good foot and do the bad thing within the confines of a heterosexual monogamous marriage – and even then, you shouldn’t really talk about it.

 This proposal is another step in a long line of prudish and unhealthy proclamations and laws around sex that only serve to directly hurt thousands of people and make millions more unhappy.  HIV infections amongst the heterosexual population have skyrocketed because of consistent scaremongering around homosexual transmissions in the 1980s. Section 28 undoubtedly led to confusion, depression, and isolation for gay children and teenagers seeking legitimacy from teachers instructed by law not to provide it. Chlamydia infections amongst the under-25s in Britain have soared as a result of chronically underfunded sex education.

I certainly don’t want to argue that pornography is on a par with sex education and anti-discrimination laws in terms of what it can teach us about sex. Much mainstream pornography teaches teenagers that women love being doused in semen without being asked first; that the female orgasm happens in five minutes through penetration alone (not the case for 70% of us); that a man’s role in sex is to be a disembodied penis slamming relentlessly into a shaven vagina. The proposal, however, is non-discriminatory; videos of foreplay, (actual) female orgasms and real, sweaty, smelly sex between two consenting adults is made as taboo as the grotesquery of Barbie-style plastic porn.

Sadly, prominent critiques of the proposal in the Guardian this week by Brooke Magnati and Anna Arrowsmith have veered down an equally worrying road – for entirely different reasons.

In pieces for Comment is Free, both women draw attention to what they call ‘content theft’ – in other words, the online distribution of mainstream pornography through peer-to-peer file sharing, and YouTube-style user-generated porn sites. They argue that this is the real problem, as it allows teenagers to access porn online as well as reducing the profit margins of directors and producers. Arrowsmith asserts that “they need to take down the (handful of) porn torrent sites, which give teenagers free, easy access to hardcore scenes – scenes whose copyright has been stolen from the producers”. The women are essentially calling on the services of Mr Cameron to prop up huge pornography firms. It’s a clear-cut case of capitalist moralists versus capitalist pornographers; and it stinks. The issue here is not that teenagers are accessing porn, nor that content is being stolen from pornographers turning over a huge profit margin. The fabricated binary of sex being hush-hush or garish, boring and secret or loud and crass, means the biggest danger is that children will grow up with an entirely distorted vision of sex. A confusing garble of facials and profit margins; taboo and desire; shame and repression.

Imagine that instead of this mad crusade against depictions of sex, we had properly funded and comprehensive sex education in all schools; that diagrams of the female reproductive organs labelled the clitoris; that Personal Social and Health Education lessons in schools discussed active consent instead of encouraging students to wait until marriage, as my Catholic school did. And imagine that instead of sleazy shaven hugely profitable pornos, we had something which vaguely resembled real life.

Instead of engaging in a moralistic frenzy, or fretting about profit, we should give our teenagers the tools to successfully navigate a sexual minefield of commodification and shame.