Lots of discussion about porn and the “Girls Gone Wild” phenomenon this week. Last Friday, Garance Franke-Ruta made the case in the Wall Street Journal for raising the minimum age for performers in porn from 18 to 21. She makes a good point about the huge changes that take place for most folks in those vital three years, and argues that — especially for the drunken spring breakers who lift their shirts and scribble on a model release form handed them by Girls Gone Wild, Inc. — raising the age to 21 would provide much-needed protection against enduring regret and exploitation.
Franke-Ruta’s modest proposal has been much discussed in the feminist blogosphere; I am late to the party again indeed. Amanda at Pandagon leads the charge of those who weigh the idea sympathetically, and then discard it as ultimately unworkable and paternalistic. Ultimately, I’m not big on the idea either. Allowing young women to get blown up in Iraq at 18, but not allowing them to lift their shirts for the camera until they’re 21, seems silly to me.
My objection to Franke-Ruta lies in this middle section of her WSJ piece:
Curtailing the demand side of such a “market” is difficult, requiring moralistic sermons and abridgements of speech. But the supply side is more vulnerable to change. It is time to raise the age of consent from 18 to 21–”consent,” in this case, referring not to sexual relations but to providing erotic content on film.
I’m a big, big proponent of fighting most social vices by reducing demand first. I’m a historian and a recovering alcoholic who knows damned well Prohibition was largely a failure and Alcoholics Anonymous has been, by and large, a phenomenal global success. Pot is illegal, and I didn’t have trouble finding it in my youth and my students seem to have very little trouble finding it today. Using the power of the state to reduce the supply of an addictive commodity often ends up raising its price and making it more dangerous for those who work to produce it. Reducing demand, the seemingly more difficult task, is ultimately the more successful strategy.
Smoking has been greatly reduced in this country. Yes, higher prices for cigarettes and greater restrictions on where one can smoke have played a part, but the real source in the drop in cigarette consumption has been the growing awareness of just how bad tobacco is for living creatures. The slow but clear success of the anti-smoking movement has proceeded primarily by reducing demand; the tobacco industry until very recently received colossal subsidies from the government in order to continue producing supply.
Why not the same for pornography? When we show school children cigarette ads from the 1920s that promised tobacco could help cure sore throats, they giggle. Who could ever have believed that cigarettes were not only harmless, but positively therapeutic? Today, we have legions of folks who insist that pornography provides a healthy release for those who have no other sexual outlet; occasionally, we have a dimwit claim that the availability of porn reduces rape (rather than making it more likely). Many feminists, troubled by mainstream porn’s narrow and male-centered depiction of women’s sexuality, long for an alternative pornography, perhaps one in which women as well as men are encouraged to ogle, lust, and masturbate from the resulting excitement.
But in the internet age, there is growing evidence that online porn addiction is bringing devastation and heartache. There is growing evidence that as with cigarettes, there are few “casual” users. As with any drug, casual use quickly turns habitual, and what is habitual often turns compulsive. Of course, some folks can use porn once every five weeks and not think about it again. They remind me of my great aunt, who famously smoked a cigarette once a year with great ceremony. The porn industry makes its money on those who are willing to run up credit card bills, stay up late at night on the computer, and often compromise their social and romantic obligations in order to hunt down the next exciting image of a stranger (usually young, poor, and female) unclothed.
Franke-Ruta has no taste for “moralistic sermons.” Neither did Phillip Morris (whoops, Altria), who spent years waving the flag of “personal choice” to defend their staggering profits from the toxic leaf. Now, I like me the occasional moralistic sermon. A good sermon — delivered either in secular or openly theistic tones — challenges people to think about themselves and their behavior in a radically new way. A good sermon doesn’t have to be modeled on a William Wigglesworth or a Jonathan Edwards. It can be modeled on a Dr. King, who had a clear and compelling way of delivering uncomfortable truths to an overly comfortable audience. Moralistic sermons, delivered by ordained ministers and backed up by public action, changed this nation’s views on race. Is it okay to use religious language to inspire people to turn away from Jim Crow, but not okay to use that same language to inspire them to stop buying the Girls Gone Wild DVD set? Is it okay to use “moralistic sermons” to change white hearts and minds until they see blacks as their full equals, but not okay to use those same sermons to challenge men to see young women as deserving of love and respect rather than objectification?
Sermons alone didn’t change America’s attitudes on race. Sermons, backed up by direct action (often including civil disobedience) did. We live in an era that sees the male sex drive as overpowering; we live in an era where we have so little faith in our brothers we daren’t ask them to stop masturbating to porn because we doubt, in our hearts, they have either the desire or the will to change their lives. (Italicized parenthetical aside: If I had a dollar for every woman I’ve heard say “I don’t like that he looks at porn, but I won’t tell him to stop. If I say I’m okay with it, then at least he’s not lying to me and doing it behind my back.” Talk about the false dichotomy built on low expectations: men will either use porn with your consent or without it, so you might as well give it so you won’t get deceived. God, how depressing.) A good sermon — which can be given on the blog, in the classroom, in a casual conversation at work as well as from a pulpit — inspires people to believe that they can do what they had not previously believed was possible. A good sermon, given by preachers and fathers and brothers and mothers and sisters and lovers, can work wonders. A good sermon, filled with anecdotal and research-derived evidence about the effects of porn on families, about the effects of the industry on those who are its “stars”, can really begin the process of changing hearts, changing minds, and more to the point, changing behavior and spending habits.
Most folks agree Voltaire never said “I despise what you have to say, and will defend to my death your right to say it.” Still, it’s a fine sentiment, and one with which I generally agree. (I still have a soft spot for the ol’ ACLU.) I have no interest in using the power of the state to stop porn, just as I am not (at least yet) ready to endorse the use of the state to mandate veganism. The way to put an industry out of business that profits from exploitation and degradation is through taking away their customers, one at a time. And we do that by changing their hearts. And we change their hearts by holding them accountable, by refusing to accept or enable, by lovingly challenging them. I’ve seen it work in my life, and in the lives of friends of mine. And that’s how I intend to keep fighting against pornography.
Brilliant. I like me some moral sermonizing, too–the word “morals” has taken on a pejorative quality over the years, and it simply means “core values.” Nothing wrong with havin’ ‘em and speaking freely about them.
I think you miss the strongest objection to Ms. Franke-Ruta’s proposal, something which infects many of the criticisms of “girls gone wild”: its strong class bias. The vast majority of women exploited in pornography (note that this list does not necessarily coincide with all nude models, or even all erotic performers) do not need to worry about how their posing will affect their careers at prestigious law firms. If we single out the case of women on “spring break”, meaning women with the resources or social support to attend a university in the United States, we will not ask what realistic steps we can take to ensure that the women with none of these advantages who pose for nude photographers or appear in pornographic films have at least provided knowing and fully voluntary consent.
As for the moralistic sermons and the rhetoric about “addiction”, I see those as riddled with class and racial bias as well. I remember vividly one conservative Christian website, which blamed “pornography” for a terrible crime committed against a younger child by a twelve year old boy from a “good family”. Forgive me if I see this kind of exercise as something of a diversion from the reality that, with or without pornography, guys a lot like us do some very bad things. Looking at pictures or films, whether erotic art or serious smut, also constitutes a choice. Rather than wringing our hands over the “addictions” of people with privilege, perhaps we could first address the question of ensuring that our choices do no harm to others. Believe it or not, people in the sex/entertainment industry have started to ask these questions, and to address the issue of exploitation and how to deal with it. I’d frankly suggest we join them in worrying more about rapes in the back rooms of studios in Prague and Volgograd, and less about the “addictions” in the dens of suburban America.
Which brings me (again) to the issue of moralistic sermons. I have no taste for moralistic sermons myself; I have a very deep aversion to telling people what they ought to think and feel. I also distrust the impulse, in me or anyone else, to try to dictate other people’s beliefs without first asking the question: what if I have this wrong? Just as I don’t propose to try and get into someone else’s head (say Hugo’s) and try to convince him of my views on solidarity with First Nations hunter/gatherer cultures, I don’t propose to let him or anyone else dictate my attitudes. Rather, let us work together on the problems we can agree on. If that work changes him or me, fine. In that case, the changes will proceed naturally, in response to the world around us.
You seem to believe it’s an either/or thing, John: either we focus on porn’s impact on the poor women who are exploited by the most extreme producers of smut, or we focus on porn’s impact on the lives of those who consume it (who in this age, belong to virtually all social classes. The poor often have access to cable TV, after all). I propose a both/and: we focus on the harm done to the women raped in Prague, and the remorseful teen in Fort Lauderdale; I propose we focus on both offering comfort to the woman whose husband stays up all night staring at Girls Gone Wild, and on confronting the man who does so about the social, economic, and familial consequences of his decision.
I have to argue with your definition of “effective” here. Saying that advocating for reducing demand for pornography is the most effective way of decreasing its existence is like saying the most effective way of reversing trends toward universal obesity is reccommending a certain type of diet and exercise. Or for that matter, it’s like relying on abstinence-only education to keep kids from spreding STDs. It would be effective – if it were effective. But there has been a governmental and cultural push towards healthy eating and exercise for quite some time now – with little to no overall effect. You know the story with abstinence-only education. With the legal changes Franke-Ruta is loosely proposing, at least there is some ability to ensure that there will be an effect, even if the effect isn’t the intended one. I don’t begrudge your pushing your moral ideals one bit, but it would be a lot more likely that I would go vegan if grocery stores stopped selling animal-derived products than if I just continued reading your blog. Making large-scale changes in the way society works requires much more than deciding that it should change and how it could if it wanted to.
A lot of this comes from a cultural bind: Sex must be repressed; sex is a consumer item. How does NA reconsile these views. Well, they could legalize prostitution – I mean, one way to eliminate watching so much more is to make casual sex much more available (I something don’t think that was the point of the sermon?) – but one which many cultures have found works. Or you could de-tantilize the female body (but how to do that in the US….?).
I do think that a comparison between watching porn and smoking only reminds me of books of “physical health” from the turn of the century showing twisted people in wheelchairs who had succummed to “self abuse” and othe diseases of masturbation. Are you against masturbation? Or just porn? Casual sex? Or just porn? lap dancing? Pole dancing? Or just porn? Two guys in a room telling each other their sexual fantasies in order to masturbate? Or just porn? If porn kills, I wonder what casual sex with a government sanctioned healthy prostitute does? Make people explode?
I can see you are passionate on the subject, but I haven’t quite followed the logical connections, not after living in Europe and going to co-ed saunas, and living currently in a place where escort/prostitution work IS legal, for individual licence only – and whose famous film maker incorporates many aspects of Porn in his films (Cronenburg) – I am wondering if this idea that porn ala smoking is just a US illness?
And, FWIW, I don’t smoke pot precisely because it’s illegal. I like it, but I don’t like it enough that I want to take even the small risk of getting in legal trouble.
A good set of response to Garance, Hugo, but I still come down thinking the supply-side argument is stronger. The primary reason is I don’t have the same optimism you do that better education and activism against porn will have much of an effect. I think there’s a big difference between a desire to watch porn and a desire to smoke or drink. Smoking or drinking are not innate, biological drives whereas the sexual drive is something innate in most everyone. So, for example, in a world without negative societal pressure a teenage person would not desire alcohol (on their own, apart from outside pressures) but starting at puberty they would have a desire for sexual release — even if they were alone on an island. Because of this desire they’ll seek out some form of sexual release and, given today’s access to porn, they’ll likely find it, find immediate release, and start forming a habit. Perhaps the sort of education they would need to prevent this cycle would need to start at a much younger age, and maybe this is what you are advocating. However, if plain sex-ed has been controversial and notoriously difficult I can only imagine that porn-ed will be magnitudes more difficult.
In regards to your other fitting objection, that a woman can join the military and head off to Iraq at 18: I think in your example you’re proving just the point Garance is making. Which is that (many) women (and men) aren’t ready developmentally to make the decision to join a war and take up arms against another at that age. I think the better solution would be to change the somewhat arbitrary age limit for entering the military than to use it as an example for why we shouldn’t raise the age for performers in porn.
True, demand is a key part of it. In a free market, if no one wants it, it will cease to be available. I do find it interesting that Hugo brings up the civil rights movement. Civil disobedience was important, but it was the direct protective action of the state through the national guard and federal troops that so often kept those protesters from being wiped off the face of the earth by armed mobs in the south. Let’s not kid ourselves. The coercive power of the state CAN make all the difference at times.
Wonderful post, Hugo. I do think state action against the porn industry is also necessary and can be effective, but not by targeting consumers. Prohibition rarely works in a country that’s so wedded to the ideology of personal choice, and raises too many First Amendment issues. However, zoning and regulation of sex-industry workplace conditions are tools we shouldn’t abandon. Franke-Ruta’s proposal may be a very trivial step but I like her focus on protecting porn performers, which sidesteps the free-speech issues. I see the porn industry as akin to the 19th-century factories before the New Deal and OSHA. The shibboleth of “consent” is like “assumption of risk” in 19th-century negligence law, i.e. “you agreed to work on the railroad so you assumed the risk of having your head taken off by a train-car coupling”. American labor law long ago accepted the principle that workers’ consent, no matter how “informed,” is no excuse for an unsafe workplace — yet the porn world is still uniquely exempt. Why?
Let me amend what I’m saying: I don’t think the state has no role to play. As long as our primary focus is on reducing demand, then certain efforts to reduce supply are indeed helpful. I was objecting to Franke-Ruta’s dismissal of “moralistic sermons” and a demand-focused strategy, not to all supply-focused efforts to end porn or other injustices. I’m willing to embrace at least a partial both/and, understanding that nothing really changes until we change hearts and minds.
I think it’s important to agknowledge that the capitalists who get rich both by selling people unhealthy food and by selling them innefective solutions to the problems they cause are a far more powerful obstacle than tobacco companies ever were.
Hugo wrote: “I’m willing to embrace at least a partial both/and, understanding that nothing really changes until we change hearts and minds.”
I agree — inner transformation is primary. In our own anti-porn work, my husband and I struggle to balance how much of our demand-side efforts should be negative (anti-porn) and how much should be positive (presenting alternative life-affirming vision of sex & relationships). It can be depressing focusing on the “anti” side! From an effectiveness standpoint, it’s also not enough to tell people not to want porn, unless you give them something better to want. Hugo, or anyone else on this thread, do you have any suggestions or success stories in that regard?
Have you considered another alternative to reducing demand so that it ultimately goes out of business — where we make it legal and acceptable for women to sue pornography companies for things like aiding in their rape (since many rapists use pornography as a script), and make it so that if a porn actress wants to take the films she made off the market, the company MUST stop selling any videos with her in them immediately, etc.?