The Ethics of Porn: Dig Deeper

As a new wave of feminism evolves, many debates (specifically those being carried out on platforms like TikTok and Twitter) revolve around the question of if acts deemed ‘empowering’ by aptly titled ‘Liberal Feminism’ are instead thinly-veiled modes of objectification. Much of this debate has revolved around sex work, such as participation in pornography, specifically on platforms like OnlyFans and Pornhub. The logic states that performing for the ‘male gaze’ (this expression has become a blanket term to mean Western patriarchy; the actual idea of a ‘male gaze’ is rooted in film theory) is inherently anti-feminist, and all sex work does is perpetuate the idea that women are objects.  

To those who believe this: I hate to break three fallacies of this argument to you. (1) This idea is extremely heteronormative; can women not be observed or touched physically via sex work by other women? Men by other men? (2) This ideology heavily leans on the notion that sex is an unenjoyable chore for women, and no woman in her right mind would ever do such an unthinkable, terrible task for money. (3) Women, in our society, will be viewed as objects regardless of if they showcase their bodies online or live in a convent. If anything, the pornographic industry has exemplified that sexualization is inherent to the female gender, not to their employment; girls will be sexualized for attending school, women for teaching at school, for being an employer, for being an employee, for being a virgin, for having many partners, etc. The issue here is not sex work, nor is it, by any means, the actual workers.  

One of the greatest arguments in favor of criminalizing pornography expresses concerns about the abuse that is fostered by the industry; websites like Pornhub, though the site works to stay on top of it, can often be hot-beds for posting non-consensual or child pornography. These are disgusting, foul violations that deserve to be eradicated completely, but those who pitch illegalizing pornography miss a crucial point: these crimes are already illegal. The issue here isn’t the industry, but rather the government’s absolutely detrimental inability to crack down properly on sex crimes. In fact, I would even argue that illegalizing porn simply turns it into a black market where anything goes. Then, there is truly no way to monitor or source videos of illegal activity; at least when these are out in the open, there’s a chance at finding the perpetrators and attempting to punish them. Once that falls to the deep web, it becomes a lost cause.  

Moreover, this argument also considers that all pornography is inherently abusive. This perspective discounts categories like ‘amateur porn,’ which typically consists of couples or non-professionals who desire to have their videos seen, whether that be for an exhibitionist fantasy, financial gain, or otherwise. It’s not for everyone, but to each their own, right?  

Catherine MacKinnon made a famous argument in her New York Times opinion piece that platforms like OnlyFans were exploitative, specifically to the ‘economically strapped,’ and could be seen as coercive sexual abuse (the coercive device, of course, being money).  

This argument can be easily deconstructed, however, when one considers that many who use OnlyFans aren’t just wealthy women beforehand, but wealthy men, too. Bella Thorne, DJ Khaled, Trisha Paytas, Tana Mongeau, Jordyn Woods, Chris Brown, Tyga, Trey Songz, and many more celebrities are users of the platform, yet already had their own successful careers and heaps of money prior to joining. Moreover, when we apply the term ‘coercion’ to anything involving financial payment in exchange for undesirable work, we can argue that those who work in sanitation or manual labor are also being coerced. Exploited, perhaps, but not by those paying for their services, and rather by the capitalist structure as a whole.  

Again, why do we even observe sex work as ‘undesirable work,’ especially on platforms like OnlyFans where participation is voluntary and actually performing sexual acts is not required to be successful? Within our society, we shame women so much for enjoying and partaking in hookup culture that even the smartest feminist theorists like MacKinnon are unable to imagine a world wherein a woman would voluntarily partake in sex work. This ideology is fully rooted in the notion that practices like sex work can only be abusive and exploitative because women are not allowed to enjoy sex.  

We see this type of theory carry over into everyday issues beyond participation in sex work. We see it on apps like TikTok, where trends circulate every couple of weeks that judge women who dress or act for ‘the male gaze’/patriarchy. This leaves a few questions to be dissected; first and foremost, why do we still associate women wearing revealing clothing as ‘performing to the male gaze,’ when decades have been spent hammering home the idea that women, their clothing, and their bodies, do not exist for men? Is a woman wearing something more conservative to be viewed as ‘respectable’ somehow less performative?  

Margaret Atwood said it best: “Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”  

We can shame or critique women all we want for a number of sexually-driven activities, whether they be dressing ‘promiscuously’ (whatever that means), engaging in hookup culture or participating in sex work. The fact of the matter is, no one woman is more devoid of patriarchal cultural influence than the next. When you live inside a concrete prison of misogyny, it takes more than one person to break through the walls — it takes everybody, if it’s even possible at all.  

The first step in demolishing these barriers is to support one another; sex work has only become destigmatized-if that-in the last five years. Shouldn’t we allow the industry some time to work out its kinks-so to speak-especially if women are perceived to be somewhat benefiting from it? The truth is, the fate of sex work and those who participate shouldn’t be a decision for the masses; it’s an individual choice. If you’re a woman who wants to create an OnlyFans, do it. And if you’re one who doesn’t, then don’t. It’s that simple. I’m all for protections from the faults of the industry, or regulations to ensure worker safety—just as any sector’s labor laws have. However, what I will not stand for is the same canned 1950s anti-sex misogyny rebranded as radical feminism. If we are going to continue moving forward, we can’t keep looking back.