Devaluation in the Sex Industry

My YouTube philosophy idol, Kane B, briefly commented on the popular idea that porn (among other things, of course) objectifies women. In a nutshell, he opined that most people who use the word "objectification" are just making noises expressing disgust and disapproval. Their objection to porn doesn't withstand the slightest scrutiny. Kane B's statement resonated with me when I first heard it, and to a degree it still does. I'm very unclear on what many people mean by "objectification." But in this article I address excerpts from one of the most highly regarded popular-level books raising the objectification charge against the sex industry: Matt Fradd's The Porn Myth. Even if I can't tell you what definition of "objectification" Fradd uses, he explains his concern clearly and thoroughly enough to give me some grasp of the concept. To the extent that the charge is meaningful, I conclude that it nonetheless collapses under scrutiny.

Sexually Objectifying Human Beings

Imagine if someone were to argue as follows:

"In producing and consuming images of hair models, we depict and treat the models as mere aesthetic objects, like they're nothing more than animate cosmetology mannequins. That is, we treat the models as mere means to the ends of aesthetic indulgence and cosmetic enhancement. When we buy and sell magazines featuring images of these models, we commodify their hair and dishonor their personhood."

That argument wouldn't convince you of the moral impermissibility of capturing and viewing images of hair models. It takes the superficiality of the hair modeling industry way too seriously. One wants to retort, that's just how modeling is! There's nothing wrong with taking or viewing pictures highlighting superficial assets of models, since the models rationally consent, without being coerced, to have such pictures of themselves taken and viewed. So why are so many people convinced by a strikingly similar argument for the impermissibility of producing and consuming pornography?
We live in an age of commercial sex in which bodies are bought and sold, both physically and virtually.

Fradd, Introduction to The Porn Myth
As well as an age of commercial hair flaunting in which hair is bought and sold, both physically and virtually.
Porn treats sex one-dimensionally, by reducing people to their sexual organs, and then uses them as a mere means to an end. As a result, it cannot offer the experience of real intimacy that we long for.

Fradd, Introduction to The Porn Myth

Of course, pornography itself is not a proper object of moral praise or blame. The relevant objects of moral praise and blame are porn's producers and consumers. Fradd would blame the consumers for treating porn actors as mere means to sexual gratification, rather than as ends in themselves—as useful rather than intrinsically valuable. He would also blame the producers for making porn available to consumers and thereby enabling them to use porn actors as mere means. (Edit: I address this more fully in my follow-up article, replying to Steven Dunn of Hellenistic Christendom. Read from the beginning of the section "Love and Hate" to the end of "I-It vs. I-Thou Relations.")

In addition to this, Fradd is concerned that porn producers degrade the actors by "reducing [them] to their sexual organs." In other words, the producers almost exclusively showcase the actors' sexual assets, and in so doing they don't properly respect the many valuable features and abilities the actors possess as human beings. Consumers, on the other hand, don't participate in the degradation inherent in pornographic content, but the worry is that consuming porn will warp their attitudes toward people of the actors' sex. For example, men who consume porn of women are more likely to view women as having little worth apart from their sexual assets, because that is how porn depicts women.

Again, the same argument can be run in favor of the conclusion that producers and consumers of commodified hair flaunting are blameworthy. In fact, the same reasoning would cast aspersions on any industry offering jobs that only allow one to showcase a few assets rather than the full range of one's abilities and individuating characteristics. For example, the retail industry reduces maintenance workers to their... well, bodies, to the same extent that the porn industry does its actors. Or, to be more specific, the retail industry reduces maintenance workers to their arms and legs, to the same extent that the sex industry reduces porn actors to their sex organs, because those parts carry out the bulk of the essential job duties. Of course, maintenance workers are sometimes expected to speak to customers, so they use parts other than their arms and legs—parts that are arguably more central to their identities. But porn actors also must regularly use their speech faculties. As for the exhibition of talents: neither maintenance workers nor porn actors are allowed to spend their time at work writing philosophy papers or playing the violin, even if they're good at it. Those were very specific examples, but I trust you get the idea.

Now, why is it that we don't worry that maintenance workers are being unjustly reduced to objects of sanitation and organization? Well, Karl Marx actually did worry about this very thing. Virtually any job one can get suppresses one's individuality, autonomy, and humanity by forcing one to do certain kinds of tasks over and over and over again. Of course, one typically has some freedom to get a new job, but that's just to replace one monotonous livelihood with another. Most any job gets old eventually. Marx saw this as a fundamental flaw in capitalism as a whole, not just the retail industry or the sex industry. I'm not saying Marx was right to be so worried about this issue or to address it how he did. But I do think he was right to view this concern as equally applicable to many industries, especially to jobs that few people enjoy or take pride in.

That said, we usually don't worry as much as Marx that maintenance workers are degraded. One reason for this is that maintenance workers choose their job of their own volition, without being coerced. They could've gotten another job. For Marx that's little consolation, because he thinks any other job is nearly as dehumanizing. But as I see it, the prevailing contemporary attitude is that we either don't know how to or don't have sufficient means or motivation to restructure society to thrive without forcing its members to do repetitive work. So, since it lies in human nature to get bored with repeated tasks (except eating, masturbating, and having sex, as it happens), the monotony endemic in the workforce is a necessary evil. 

Another, more important reason we don't worry is that people should and do recognize that maintenance workers have good qualities and abilities that they have limited opportunity to exhibit while working. If people lose sight of that, it's their own fault, not the retail industry's fault. It's simply unreasonable for someone, knowing the nature of jobs, to suppose that what someone else does while working is all they're good for.

Both of these considerations carry over, mutatis mutandis, to pornographic work. The only significant difference I see is that, arguably, porn stars and women in general are commonly viewed (by men) as having little non-sexual value, whereas maintenance workers aren't so commonly viewed as having little value beyond performing maintenance duties. But it remains unclear whether the porn industry causes/worsens this problem, or whether the problem just stems from typical (male) human psychology and patriarchy. Consider how women were disenfranchised, excluded, and belittled in various ways before the porn industry existed or became anything like the modern one in its reach and character. Moreover, whether or not the porn industry contributes to the problem, the blame lies squarely with the people who undervalue pornographic workers (and who undervalue women, etc.), not the industry, unless the industry warps our sense of people's value, by either intentional or careless action.

Also, I think we should be careful not to confuse an attitude that women lack non-sexual value with an obsession with women's sexual value that makes women feel otherwise undervalued. Both are morally problematic, but the former would be more reprehensible.

How about Fradd's last comment, regarding the intimacy we crave? Initially, one might think it's correct but unhelpful to his case against porn. I mean, everyone knows porn (of complete strangers) doesn't offer real intimacy. The point is to simulate physical, if not emotional and romantic, intimacy as much as is possible in a magazine, over the Internet, etc. even though the person the consumer pretends to be intimate with isn't truly interacting with them, or at any rate doesn't know them and isn't near them.

But Fradd can be interpreted as making a more helpful point: that porn tempts people to use it as a replacement for real intimacy, and if they do that, they are sooo missing out. As such, one might think porn producers act immorally toward porn consumers by tempting them to use porn as a substitute for real intimacy. Suppose that's true. Still, porn consumers do not seem to act immorally toward anyone by forgoing real intimacy. They may be thought to wrong themselves by depriving themselves of intimacy. But if that's morally wrong, so is being antisocial or asexual. More broadly, it follows that it's immoral to forgo anything as valuable as intimacy. That's hard for me to swallow. Many opponents of porn should likewise be unwilling to bite this bullet. Morality has very little to do with how one treats oneself, and almost everything to do with how one treats others. The way one treats oneself seems morally relevant only to the extent that it impacts others.

One might object that a person A who forgoes intimacy wrongs some person B (say, an individual who would be interested in, and is capable of, intimacy with A) by depriving B of the opportunity to be intimate with A. But that's pretty absurd, since it implies that A owes B the opportunity to be intimate with A. Surely no such debt exists. There is nothing B can do to take away A's moral right not to be sexually or romantically intimate with B. It's not even a little morally bad for A to refrain from sexual or romantic intimacy. While A's refraining might put B through emotional pain, no one thinks that in itself makes refraining a bad choice on A's part. It's completely up to A.

Another possible objection is that consumers help the porn industry thrive, and thus any given consumer helps producers continue their work that immorally tempts other consumers to forgo intimacy. As such, consumers are indirectly morally responsible for this temptation. This is fair enough. But allow me to highlight a deeper problem.

That the industry immorally tempts consumers to forgo intimacy, which I kindly assumed for the sake of argument, is doubtful. My experience, along with the pair of facts that porn use is at an all-time high and that most people still seek real-life intimacy of some kind (even if it's just loveless sex, or sexless love for that matter), suggests that most who watch porn are about as motivated to seek real intimacy as anyone. In fact, some may be even more desperate than the average non-consumer to experience intimacy, as consumed as they are with sexual fantasies and as lonely as they feel simulating sex, by themselves. After all, it's typically believed that simulated sex pales in comparison to the genuine article.

When consumers do view porn in solitude despite having the option to pursue/have real sex, it's often because of a short-lived circumstance that makes the pursuit of sex less appealing. For example, a partnerless person might be really horny one night and be either (a) so eager to get off that they lack the patience to spend that time socializing with potential mates, or (b) so convinced that attempting to socialize at that time of night would be unproductive anyway that they masturbate instead. Another example: one might recently have had a fight with one's sexual partner(s) and feel that, given the present dynamic, it would be hard to get their consent. And if one were to talk the partner(s) into it, one might still regret it since the chemistry would be off. Need I explain why one might instead opt for porn in that scenario? Note that, in both scenarios, it's either doubtful whether one would make significant progress toward real, pleasurable intimacy if one tried or unimportant whether one uses that time to make such progress, since there's plenty of time in the day to work on that.

But more importantly, it's neither the porn industry's nor porn's fault if consumers succumb to the temptation to avoid intimacy. That's on the consumers. By analogy, we shouldn't deem a cheeseburger joint immoral or the cheeseburgers it sells bad simply because their existence tempts consumers to forgo a healthy diet. We should instead deem the consumers imprudent, at least if they care about their health or longevity. Likewise, we should deem porn consumers who avoid intimacy imprudent, at least if they care about connection, affection, love, or sex.

I can already hear some of my audience exclaiming, "WTF, did you just compare porn actors to cheeseburgers?!?" To that I say, uh-uh. I compared porn to cheeseburgers. Anyway, it's just an analogy. Fret not.

On a more serious note, one might object that we can't expect (esp. male?) humans to be able to prevent their descent into addiction and a solitary lifestyle after they've had a taste of porn. By contrast, we can expect them to be able to maintain a healthy diet, even after they've had a taste of the devilish dish that is the cheeseburger. But this reply sounds unfounded to me. We all know that addiction to excessive consumption of unhealthy foods (though perhaps not of cheeseburgers specifically) is as widespread as porn addiction. And I, for one, strongly suspect these two addictions are equally tough to give up or cut back on. Certainly, some people might find one of these addictions harder to fight than the other. But on average the two are about equal.

Another presentation of the objectification concern:

Anthony Esolen, professor of English at Providence College, said that because human beings are higher life forms than animals, the human body deserves a higher regard. Unlike animals, human beings have both a physical body and a nonphysical soul, which means they are capable of thought, imagination, and freedom of will. As part of the human person, the body is worthy of the same reverence due to the person. Thus, Esolen says, “It is a contradiction to say, ‘I honor the human person,’ while treating the human body as separable from the person, using it as a tool, devouring [pornographic] images of it. . . . One cannot at once love the beautiful and desire to defile it.” 

Those of us who oppose porn’s objectification of human beings are not opposing sexual expression. We stand against pornography in order to stand for the honor of the human person. Anytime we capture the image of another—be it for artistic purposes or for entertainment—the display of that image should lead others to celebrate the mystery and the depth of humanity, not encourage them to treat the person as a cheap assembly of body parts.

Fradd, Introduction to The Porn Myth
The language Fradd quotes Esolen as using practically begs the question. If you think it's okay to watch porn, you probably won't describe the act of watching porn as "devouring images" of, or evincing a "desire to defile," the human body. That sounds monstrous, vile, and evil.

And I don't know about you, but the image below doesn't inspire me to "celebrate the mystery and the depth of humanity" any more than pornographic images do.



Nor does the photographer or the model care if this image has that effect (I asked them ;) ).

Cheapening Sex

Critics also worry that the sex industry cheapens, or devalues, sex itself. Suan Sonna, the bright philosophy student who runs the Intellectual Conservatism Facebook page, raised this worry in conversation with me. I can take this criticism in a number of ways. One is, sexual services are provided at a price much lower than those services are worth. So the sex worker is slighted, and the sexual activity may come to be seen as worth relatively little—only as much as it costs. Another gloss is, sex has become so readily and widely available that it has depreciated in value. That is, we're not failing to appreciate its true value by buying and selling it so cheaply and freely; rather, its true value has lessened as a result. Yet another gloss is, the sex industry often doesn't present sex in its best light. Indeed, the industry is known to bring out the worst in sex, from repulsive or dangerous kinks to violence and rape. And it tends to omit or de-emphasize the best parts: intimacy, love, passion, mutual respect, mutual fondness. A final gloss is, the sex industry has turned sex into just another commodity and business, thereby robbing sex of its uniqueness.
Saying that we need porn to avoid sexual repression is like saying that we need gluttony to avoid anorexia. Pornography is as much a celebration of sex as gluttony is a celebration of food. In both instances, that which should be appreciated isn’t appreciated at all but is twisted into something unhealthy and dangerous. By placing sex—any kind of sex—into the medium of pornography, we gorge the masses on industrialized, commodified sexuality. This does not celebrate sex at all. It cheapens it.

Fradd, Ch. 2 of The Porn Myth
I will address each version of the concern in turn.
  • I have several doubts about the line that sex should be sold for more, if sold at all. 
    • That's similar to saying a pair of shoes that's worth (or that you or many people would be willing to buy for) $70 shouldn't be marked down to $30. Why complain? Usually people are just happy to find such a bargain! But there's a disanalogy in that $30 isn't the usual price of those shoes, whereas even the usual price of sexual services is arguably lower than they are worth. Perhaps it would only be okay to occasionally offer sexual services at a low rate, because in that case, as in the case of the shoes, the usual rate would still be considered what those services are worth. At any rate, the worry that sex should be sold for more persists. To find a better analogy, we should turn our attention to non-sexual commodities that are worth more than their normal cost. Consider the value of food, shelter, transportation, powerful technology, masterful works of art and literature, medical care, education, precious metals and stones, tickets providing access to once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and pets. Each of these items, for reasons I trust go without saying, can be considered priceless. And yet they're all sold all over the world at finite, sometimes surprisingly low prices. If there's nothing wrong with this, I can't see what's wrong with the availability and affordability of sexual services. 
    • Some sex workers, like strippers, receive generous tips on a regular basis. Even if the entry fee and the strippers' wages seem meager, when you add the tips, you may conclude that some strippers get as much as they deserve.
    • A fair number of sex workers, particularly (female) strippers, seem quite happy to make as much as they do, doing what they do. Maybe that's just a sign that they too undervalue their work, but it's worth noting.
    • Even if the sexual services offered by the industry come to be seen as less valuable than they really are, that doesn't mean sex as a whole comes to be seen as less valuable. So, whether or not sex workers and the sexual activity they engage in are undervalued, at least it doesn't follow that sex outside the industry is undervalued. For example, people might fully appreciate the value of sex with their partners, even if those people purchase or provide commodified sex. This isn't to say there's no problem with whatever undervaluing occurs in the industry, but it mitigates the concern. It also suggests that any undervaluing in the industry is less severe than some worry, because commodified sex is in fact less valuable than sex with a real partner (hence the hope that one would have more appreciation for sex with a real partner).
    • If sex were sold for much more, it would seem unfair to those who invested so much time, money, and energy in their education. While there are skills that sex workers need to develop to succeed in their line of work, it's hard to deny that these tend to be easier and less costly to develop than the skills one develops in higher education. Granted, sex work varies in terms of difficulty and experience required, so this might not be true of all sex work.
  • My main reply to the second version of the concern is similar to my fourth doubt above. Even if the sexual services offered by the industry depreciate in value (or become less valuable than sex that isn't bought), that doesn't mean sex as a whole depreciates in value. For example, the value of sex with a romantic partner need not change, even if one purchases or provides commodified sex. Indeed, sexual activity of the right kind(s) with the right person(s) is a special opportunity, one that the sex industry hasn't taken away from anyone. Sex that you have to buy and sex that's freely offered to you are worlds apart, especially when the "sex" you buy isn't actual intercourse. Recall the "real intimacy" Fradd brought up before. And because we have reason to regard sex that's offered freely as way more valuable, we also have reason to suspect that the cost of paid sexual services is high enough.
  • To some extent the force of the third version of the worry will depend on your personal taste. If you think a kink is gross or scary, you might be offended that there are sexual services catering to people who have that kink. My take is that, firstly, this is like being offended by the existence of extreme sports or food that disgusts you. One wants to say, "Hey, if you don't like it, by all means steer clear of it. But what's wrong with someone else's partaking, if it doesn't bother them?" True, extreme sports are dangerous, and even some foods are dangerous. But a person is within their rights to take risks, as long as they're responsible about it. Secondly, at least when it comes to porn, the consumer, and sometimes even the actor, doesn't really take the risk or commit the abuse portrayed. I know this is a thorny issue, but as long as non-pornographic films depicting risk-taking and morally/legally objectionable actions are fine, porn depicting such actions should be as well. The principal difference is that porn consumers often get off by acting out the behavior at issue. The actors in the aforementioned non-pornographic films also act out the objectionable behaviors, though. And viewers of non-pornographic films are known to sometimes imitate the characters. Does that make these people significantly more likely to perform the problematic behaviors in real life? Those who act out the behaviors from non-pornographic films could be less addicted to them, since they don't typically derive sexual gratification from the act. But they may well derive some satisfaction from playing a depraved character.
  • The fourth version is the closest to what Suan Sonna said to me. I hate to sound like a broken record, but again, it's only sex within the industry that is just another commodity and business. All of those things that Suan thinks sets sex apart from commodities can still be enjoyed if one seeks a partner whose sex isn't for sale. And even within the industry, sex is unlike many other commodities in that it satisfies distinct, stronger, more basic desires possessed by consumers. Most adults who go to strip clubs would much rather spend their night there than at the movie theater.

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