The following is my response to a piece posted by my colleague Ellie Mae O’Hagan last month. Ellie has graciously allowed me to respond at much greater length than she gave herself in her original post so I would urge readers to please read Ellie’s comments on her piece and any comments she makes here.
I read with interest my colleague Ellie Mae O’Hagan’s blog post a few weeks ago, “Why we should accept pornography as part of our society”. Engaging with the work of pro-pornography feminists is invariably a dispiriting experience – typically such writers misrepresent the feminist anti-porn critique, trivialise the effects of pornography, and downplay or simply deny the blatant misogyny that dominates the genre. Ellie’s piece is more subtle and considered than much of the pro-porn oeuvre. Nonetheless, I take issue with Ellie at a number of points, in particular her view of what pornography is and her overly-generous account of the feminist pro-porn group ‘Our Porn, Ourselves’.
Porn and Me
First off, a brief confession. I have been a regular user of pornography and I continue to this day to struggle with the purchase porn has on my sexuality. Having been a user confers both advantages and disadvantages for commenting on this topic. One advantage is that I can feel directly the effect porn has had upon my sexuality. Porn for me has been a lived experience, I can recognise and feel the impact that porn has had on me psychologically and emotionally. I believe that porn has increased my tendency to objectify women (to see women as targets of sexual conquest rather than as full human beings). I believe it has encouraged in me a taste for sex which conforms to that standard porn dichotomy – dominant male, subordinate female – and that it has had a negative effect on my relationships. Porn for me has thus not been a liberating force and far from developing my sexual horizons (a supposed benefit of porn often claimed by its advocates) my use of porn has sharply narrowed my sexual imagination. The principal disadvantage of being an “insider”, so to speak, is that there is a danger that I may unfairly view my experience as typical, that I may project my own feelings onto others, assuming that porn usually has a negative effect upon users when this may not be the case. Many anti-porn writers have of course come to their views without having been porn users themselves, but it seems to me to be only fair to the reader to acknowledge my own subjective experience regarding the topic.
What is Pornography?
Ellie states that “porn, in one form or another, has been part of our lives for thousands of years”. Artistic depictions of human sexuality, which is what Ellie seems to have in mind, are indeed as old as the hills - but that is not a meaningful definition of pornography. It strikes me as pretty obvious that when people talk about pornography they are talking about material that is very different from Victorian peep shows or the erotic art of the Romans. Instead, I believe, they are referring to the production of visual images of the human body to be masturbated to (mostly by men) on an industrial scale, largely using real people, and typically suffused with misogyny. This is a phenomenon that originates in the twentieth century. It contains important discontinuities from previous forms of sexual imagery.
What is of course controversial in this definition of porn is the claim that it tends to be misogynist. A variety of considerations justify this. Firstly, there is the evidence from content analysis studies of typical pornographic material: for example, in 2007 Robert Woztnitzer and Ana Bridges published an analysis of 50 of the most popular porn videos. 88% of the analysed scenes showed physical aggression; nearly half included verbal insults or threats; 70 percent of the acts of aggression were carried out by men and 87% of those acts were committed against women. Only 5% of the acts of aggression were responded to by requests to stop – overwhelmingly women were portrayed as wanting/enjoying violence. Despite the apparently successful normalisation of porn that has occurred in recent years, the misogynistic nature of the genre is further revealed in the ways in which the term ‘porn’ is and is not deployed. For instance if porn was not, at some level, understood as being hostile to the notion of equality between the sexes then we would have little use of the term “erotica”. The attributes that mark erotica out from porn are: comparative blurring of the gender divide, greater reciprocity and displays of affection between participants, and the depiction of sexual relations between long term partners with deep feelings for one another (in porn, as a general rule, emotional depth and fidelity are shunned).
Consider also sex scenes in films and novels – if we were to accept Ellie’s very broad definition then ought we to describe such scenes as “pornographic”? There are of course scenes within mainstream fare that are so described, but typically that is a criticism (Tinto Brass’s 1979 film Caligula, for instance) or it applies in cases where a writer has deliberately imitated porn for a particular artistic purpose (e.g. Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho).
So the claim that we must accept pornography because it has always been with us does not, I think, hold up, unless we render the term meaningless by conflating it with any and all depictions of human sexuality.
Our Porn, Ourselves?
Regarding the pro-pornography group Our Porn, Ourselves, Ellie writes:
“many argue that porn doesn’t have to be anti-feminist. Groups like Our Porn, Ourselves are part of a long-term campaign to close the gap between feminism and porn. There is a difference, they argue, between endorsing abuse, and observing a good old shag. Even when a woman is being dominated, she can still have agency and be an equal in the act. Surely we can resist genuine oppression while embracing our sexuality?”
The claim here seems to be that unless outright abuse is occurring then porn ought not to be subject to criticism. But even if all porn were made under the most laudable conditions imaginable and with the full and happy participation of the performers, the dominant narratives of porn would still render it deeply problematic at best. Most (all?) leftists recognise the importance of dominant narratives within mainstream media in facilitating inequality and violence (structural or otherwise) . Whilst leftists do not deny the capacity of ordinary people to interrogate mainstream media and come to a more realistic picture of reality, we all know that the biases of the media have real effects upon people’s beliefs, feelings, and actions. Oddly, this crucial understanding all too often evaporates when the media under consideration is the porn industry. Porn, we are told, is mere fantasy, with no effects on the user or the wider culture. But the stories that the media tell us always matter and the story that most porn tells is a pretty simple and a pretty depressing tale: pornography transmits the message that women are not equal human beings but that they are mere sexual objects to be used and discarded by men. OPO appear to be largely blind to this message and its significance, their website utterly failing to address the troubling narratives that are so prevalent in contemporary porn .
OPO’s evasion of reality also extends to their description of working conditions within the industry. Consider this apparently serious statement from their website:
“Contrary to the popular fables about pimps and helpless, lost little girls who need someone to save them; today’s porn performers are feminist-identified, strong-minded CEO’s of their own multi-million dollar companies.”
Read that again. Not “some porn performers are feminist-identified, strong-minded CEO’s”; not “10 per cent of performers”; not “0.01% of performers” (a more likely figure); no: apparently most (all?) female porn performers today are raking in millions and ordering their hired underlings around (in standard third wave “feminist” fashion, women assuming the roles of moneyed alpha males is of course a good thing).
If OPO merely want to create genuinely feminist depictions of sex then I have no real issue with them (though I seriously doubt they will find much of a market for it – there is nothing stopping men from using erotica rather than porn right now). However, if OPO were serious in their claim to be pro-women they would not obscure the current reality of pornography. Well intentioned or not, OPO and other pro-porn feminists (“sex positive feminists” is the inaccurate and self-regarding term they prefer) are providing a service to the porn industry by allowing pornographers to use their approval and their denial of porn’s reality to boost the pornographers’ claims to be at the vanguard of women’s sexual liberation. That is a pretty poor service to women and not much help to men trying to extract themselves from the misogynistic mindset of the porn industry.
Responding to Pornography
In his writings on porn Robert Jensen has suggested that given how little recognition there currently is of its misogynistic nature, now is not the time to be deciding what to do about porn – rather, in the present, we ought to be focused on consciousness raising. However, the question of unionisation of porn performers that Ellie raises is a live issue and it would be callous not to address it. Porn is not going anywhere any time soon and while it exists we ought to do what we can to improve the situation of porn performers. Ellie suggests that we need to accept porn as part of our society and grant it a role in order to improve the position of women within the industry. However, it is not at all clear to me why one cannot be both opposed to pornography and be fully prepared to support reforms within the existing industry. The world would be much better off if the coal industry disappeared overnight but the existence of the industry is a fact and opposing it in the long term does not preclude one from supporting workers within that industry in their efforts to organise and improve their conditions. To take that position is not to patronise or to insult but to recognise the complexities of reality: the porn industry ought to vanish and we should do all we can to improve the situation of those working within it.
With regard to longer term solutions there have been a variety of proposals for dealing with porn suggested by radical feminists, the most high profile being the ‘Antipornography Civil Rights Ordinance’ drafted by the American radical feminists Andrea Dworkin and Catharine Mackinnon. Whether or not one agrees with such proposals, however, the advantage of engaging with such work is that unlike pro-porn literature it at least has the virtue of being prepared to honestly confront the reality of porn. Now is not the time to hide from that reality. While pornography has always been misogynist, its present trajectory is especially disturbing - porn has never been as cruel and hate-filled as it is now. It is increasingly usual for women to be depicted enjoying highly unusual and likely painful acts such as “DPs” and “double anal”, accompanied by a range of gender-specific insults (‘cunt’, ‘whore’, ‘slut’, etc) and a broad menu of deliberately humiliating acts: ‘facials’, ‘gagging’, ‘ass to mouth’, ‘bukkake’, etc. Acts of aggression – face slapping, spitting, choking – are increasingly normalised, and acts of affection and gentleness such as kissing or hugging are ever rarer. The desire to hide from the nature of contemporary porn is understandable – it is disturbing and frightening to consider how many men (and women) are sexually aroused by this type of material. It is understandable, and also, in my view, a serious mistake.
Alex Doherty is a co-editor of NLP and has written for Z Magazine, Counterpunch and Dissident Voice.
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29 Comments on "Accepting Porn?"
By Ellie, on 13 March 2011 - 20:54 |
This is really interesting Alex. I have a lot of points to make, which I won’t make tonight as I have a virus and am currently burning up!
I just want to make the point that you occasionally misinterpret me. For eg, I am not advocating OPO, but I don’t think it’s possible to write what is essentially a pro-porn piece without acknowledging them in some way. I agree with some of what they say, but not all of it. The statement re porn performers you quote was indeed absurd, and should be criticised severely. I think the issue here is that your piece is a lot longer than mine. No matter though - all the more reason for a good debate in the comments!
By Jim Jepps, on 13 March 2011 - 22:09 |
Whilst an intersting peice I really think you should make clear that you’re talking about straight porn exclusively here. There is quite lot of porn out there that has no women in it - at all - and is very difficult to define meaningfully as misogynist.
This piece has nothing to say about gay porn yet is written as if straight porn were the be all and end all of the subject. Gay porn is porn, whether you personally watch it or not.
I have a similar misgiving about the study you cite that says 88% of porn scenes have acts of violence in them, and I would question their methodology and/or definitions, this seems like a very dubious statistic to me that undermines your case about the violence and misogyny in porn with its over blown claims.
I guess my concern is you *appear* to be cherry picking evidence and how you define porn in order to make the points you set out to make in the first place. It *feels* like a very narrow piece.
By Mary Tracy, on 14 March 2011 - 01:27 |
It is interesting that increasingly it is young men who are coming out against pornography. Fancy that.
It is important, I believe, to remember that porn has a real impact on people’s lives that goes beyond the effect it has on its users. At the end of the day, it’s not our opinion on it that counts but rather how much damage it’s causing.
By Rolandish, on 14 March 2011 - 04:14 |
Probably one of the most incredible damnations on porn is found in a book with no feminist agenda. Chapter 4 in “The brain that changes itself: stories of personal triumph from the frontiers of brain science” by Norman Doidge, makes a powerful case that porn fundamentally rewires the brain with negative unintended consequences.
By Alex Doherty, on 14 March 2011 - 11:45 |
@ ellie - I’m not sure that I am misrepresenting you here however. You do make reservations regarding porn but you make what seemed to me a pretty positive statement regarding OPO without stating clearly your reservations about that particular group. Perhaps your reservations regarding OPO are implicit in your other comments but I didn’t read it that way and I’m not sure others did either. If it’s my error then my apologies - and yes of course you had much less space than myself to make your views clear.
@ Jim - Thank you for your comment. I had planned to address gay porn as well but with the constraints of space I decided not to in the end. I’m glad you bring it up though as it’s an important point which on the face of it has some merit. I don’t claim to be an expert on gay porn but what I would say is that from what I’ve read and seen of the genre it is noticeable how similar gay porn is to straight porn. So again we see relations of domination and subordination and we see the general absence of emotional depth. It’s important to remember that being homosexual does not insulate one from mainstream gender dynamics. I would reccomend this book on the topic: http://www.ubcpress.ubc.ca/search/title_book.asp?BookID=3782
Defenders of porn also sometimes point to examples of role reversal (female domination of men) However, even in these sub-genres the pornographers’ view of women’s inherent subordinate status remains. In the case of domination of men by women, although the roles are indeed reversed, the reversal leads to the male participants being addressed with the insults usually reserved for women – so now the men are labelled as ‘whores’, ‘sluts’ and ‘bitches’ by the dominating women. However even if depictions of female dominance did not ultimately renforce porn’s view of women as subordinate, given that we live in a society and an economy typified by relationships of dominance and subordination we ought, I think, to be deeply sceptical of the fetishisation of such relationships (and the same I think applies regarding gay porn. )
By Alex Doherty, on 14 March 2011 - 14:24 |
@ Jim - sorry I forgot this: “I have a similar misgiving about the study you cite that says 88% of porn scenes have acts of violence in them, and I would question their methodology and/or definitions, this seems like a very dubious statistic to me that undermines your case about the violence and misogyny in porn with its over blown claims.” It’s fair enough to be sceptical about a statistic if it feels at variance with one’s own experience. However unless you have a substantial point to make about the methodology aside from your own feelings there is nothing really for me to address.
By rek, on 14 March 2011 - 16:29 |
“I have a similar misgiving about the study you cite that says 88% of porn scenes have acts of violence in them, and I would question their methodology and/or definitions, this seems like a very dubious statistic to me that undermines your case about the violence and misogyny in porn with its over blown claims.”
As a male with a similar lived experience as Alex, I can definitely say that this statistic appears completely and depressingly accurate.
By Sofie, on 14 March 2011 - 20:13 |
@Alex and @Jim, I have several substantial points to make on methodology, terminology and the general practice of linking to (one) non-publicly available study to make a political point hard to argue against. But rather than clog up comments I’ll write a lengthier response soon and link it here. Thank god for university database access…
By Alex, on 14 March 2011 - 21:32 |
I look forward to your comments Sophie. Regarding the study I cited - I referenced it with regards to what is really a self-evident point: that the overwhelming majority of porn is misogynistic (a point I think Ellie concedes). Being unable to recognise the prevailing misogyny of the genre is about on the level of being unable to recognise the racism evident in the black and white minstrel show.
By Ellie, on 14 March 2011 - 22:33 |
Sofie - yes I miss JSTOR so much from my university days! Writing articles these days is so hard without it. While we’re on that subject, I read your article for CiF and really enjoyed it. I did my B.A. and M.A. in English, so it struck a chord with me.
Alex - I said ‘misinterpret,’ not ‘misrepresent.’ Given that I reiterate OPO’s opinion and then go some way to contradicting it, I thought it was clear that I don’t unequivocally agree with them. Also, later in the comments I say: ‘I think it’s very disingenuous to suggest that men and women suffer equally from porn’s problems. They don’t - there’s no denying that, regardless of your politics. Women are overwhelmingly trafficked into it, and where porn is unhealthy and damaging, it is almost always the woman who comes off worst.’ So I do think it’s a little unfair to quote them in order to contradict me, when I didn’t say I agreed with their statement that most porn performers are willing and happy. For the record, I don’t.
There are lots of issues here to get to grips with, but the one I want to address for now is this:
However, it is not at all clear to me why one cannot be both opposed to pornography and be fully prepared to support reforms within the existing industry. The world would be much better off if the coal industry disappeared overnight but the existence of the industry is a fact and opposing it in the long term does not preclude one from supporting workers within that industry in their efforts to organise and improve their conditions.
I don’t think that is a valid comparison. In the coal industry, you condemn the commodity but forgive the worker, which is why you can push for workers’ rights and disapprove of the industry at the same time. In porn, the commodity and the worker are the same thing, so by condemning the former, you automatically condemn the latter too. I don’t think they’re separable as you seem to.
So, by extension, you can’t condemn the porn industry as seedy, misogynistic, degrading, damaging etc. and then expect those who embody it to unashamedly fight for their rights.
Anyway, I’ve got 3 articles this week and I’m really poorly, so I’ll leave it there for now.
By Alex, on 14 March 2011 - 23:28 |
Hi Ellie, sorry to hear that you are still feeling unwell. Regarding OPO - in my article I was responding to the article you wrote - not to subsequent comments. In your original piece I think you were much too generous towards OPO and far too soft in your criticism of porn. You described OPO as part of a “long term project to close the gap between feminism and pornography”. Given that OPO blatantly downplay the misogynist nature of porn and disgracefully misrepresent working conditions in the industry (those Porn star CEOs again) that struck me as a pretty remarkable statement - can an organisation which behaves in such a way be meaningfully described as “feminist”? As for the comparison with the coal industry - you’re right it is not as tight a comparison as I would like. However even if one believes, as I do, that porn largely transmits a message of misogyny that does not preclude one from extending understanding and support to those working within the industry. There are limits to that support however; while I would happily support porn performers in fighting for improved working conditions, or to increase female representation in production, or to change the nature of the product away from misogynist themes I do not think I or anyone else should be obliged to extend support to efforts made by performers to deny the present reality of pornography. In a similar way while I would support soliders in efforts to organise the military I would not be interested in supporting claims that the military (at present) was anything other than a destructive institution. Good luck with the articles.
By Mary Tracy, on 15 March 2011 - 13:47 |
@ Rolandish
“Probably one of the most incredible damnations on porn is found in a book with no feminist agenda.”
Go figure. Did he have a scientist agenda, I wonder.
By Mr Workaday, on 15 March 2011 - 17:25 |
“I don’t think that is a valid comparison. In the coal industry, you condemn the commodity but forgive the worker, which is why you can push for workers’ rights and disapprove of the industry at the same time. In porn, the commodity and the worker are the same thing, so by condemning the former, you automatically condemn the latter too. I don’t think they’re separable as you seem to.”
Are you kidding? That’s the rebuttle? Because pornographic workers allow footage of sex acts to be commodified, they are no longer distinguishable from their output? The output is the product, not the workers. Therefore Alex’s comparison to coal mining (disliking the output and consequences of the industry, but nonetheless supporting the right of those engaged therein to “organise and improve their conditions”. I’m sorry to labour this, but just for the benefit of anyone joining at this point, THE COMMODITY AND THE WORKER ARE NOT THE SAME THING. Please rethink this point, because it is so so faulty and it’s predicated on a series of horrible assumptions about people’s relationships to their work.
By Ellie, on 15 March 2011 - 20:27 |
But those assumptions do exist in the porn industry don’t they? For porn to work, you have to buy into what you’re seeing - you have to, to an extent, believe it’s real.
People watch porn footage, believing that the woman involved is slutty, deserving, enjoying herself, not enjoying herself - whatever. If they didn’t suspend their disbelief like that, they wouldn’t get off on it.
In fact, I’d argue that part of the problem with porn is that those involved ARE often indistinguishable from the output. Your argument might work for an industry based on inanimate lumps of rock, but I don’t think it holds water in porn - an industry based on intimacy, human interaction, and people’s bodies and feelings.
By Mary Tracy, on 16 March 2011 - 00:32 |
Oh for the love of everything that’s holy.
You can’t turn sex into a “commodity” and you can’t turn coal into a commodity either. Human sexuality belongs to people, just as coal belongs to the land. One may “interact” with sex or coal but one cannot “exploit” them, turn them into a commodity and sell them for profit. The problems start when we believe the world, us included, are there for the grabs, stricly for human indiscriminated consumption and exploitation.
You can always read Derrick Jensen.
By Ellie, on 16 March 2011 - 11:48 |
I agree with you. Only problem is that the entire economic system of the planet, the one that causes millions of people to live in poverty and is responsible for the entire sex industry, is predicated upon the belief that you CAN turn people and things into commodity and sell them for profit.
By Mary Tracy, on 16 March 2011 - 14:17 |
Yes, but the entire economic system is predicated upon many beliefs, all of them wrong. And we should point this out whenever we can, if only to remove its legitimacy. If people stopped believing that you can turn everything into a commodity and sell it for profit, the system would collapse.
By Mr Workaday, on 16 March 2011 - 16:28 |
You originally said “In porn, the commodity and the worker are the same thing, so by condemning the former, you automatically condemn the latter too. I don’t think they’re separable as you seem to.” Why? Do you really mean this? If you were trying to say that “as a whole, society as it consumes porn struggles to disentangle the on-screen fiction from the individuals participating in it”, then I wouldn’t have anything to say. But you’re saying the distinction simply doesn’t exact - baffling! A porn actress is someone’s daughter / mother / friend / confident / dependant / carer. She has an entire world of tastes, opinions and a place within the social collective; she has the right to organise and improve her working conditions as surely as anyone else. Surely this is obvious? I don’t need to like porn in order to recognise her agency in these matters. Therefore she is seperable from the output she is featured in. You’re conflating the issue of many porn consumers’ inability to meaningfully define the distinction with the distinction itself. Alex’s point stands.
By Ellie, on 16 March 2011 - 16:42 |
Sorry, I would have thought that - as a feminist, lefty and intelligent person - it is obvious I can make the distinction myself. I thought my comment at 14 was clear. ESPECIALLY given that the thrust of my post was arguing for unionisation of porn actors.
Of course I’m talking about the consumers’ inability to make a distinction. Although I would argue that it goes beyond porn consumers and is actually a prevalent attitude in society. Particularly as the porn stars who do rise to the surface are ones that embody power, confidence, and embracement of promiscuity - like Jenna Jameson.
Mary Tracy - I see unionisation as a way of achieving what you’re talking about. Unionisation turns workers into human beings who are valuable and have rights. It just does it within a capitalist system, which I view as necessary because that’s what we live in.
By mr workaday, on 16 March 2011 - 17:54 |
phew, i see i was confused, i appreciate the clarification; so your clarified position is that by ‘condemning the former you are by no means condemning the latter too.’
By enan, on 16 March 2011 - 18:40 |
I’ve followed this interesting exchange from the sideline so far. Let me now add a question to Ellie. Alex argued like this in the original post:
“However, it is not at all clear to me why one cannot be both opposed to pornography and be fully prepared to support reforms within the existing industry. The world would be much better off if the coal industry disappeared overnight but the existence of the industry is a fact and opposing it in the long term does not preclude one from supporting workers within that industry in their efforts to organise and improve their conditions. To take that position is not to patronise or to insult but to recognise the complexities of reality: the porn industry ought to vanish and we should do all we can to improve the situation of those working within it.”
Can you now restate your objection to that? You first seemed to object by challenging the coherence of a the distinction between producer and product in the case of porn. But now you clearly do accept that distinction. So what then is your objection?
Mary Tracy: when you claim that we “can’t” turn sex into a commodity, “can’t” exploit someones body, “can’t” sell it for profit then you seem to use can’t in a very unusual moral sense. That appears to be only a semantic move. Clearly people can and do such things every day. That is the problem. We should as clearly as possible state the moral reasons that weigh against such actions. But switching to an unusual sense of the word “can’t” does not help that moral task, I think.
By Ellie, on 17 March 2011 - 12:35 |
That is still my objection. I can see the distinction, which is why I argue for unionisation, but as I make clear in comments 14 and 19, I don’t think society does, as a whole.
By enan, on 17 March 2011 - 17:23 |
Ok, but I still don’t grasp the point you’re making. I am not convinced that
society has a whole has a hard time distinguishing between porn producer/product. I get the point that people porn consumption are “living the lie” so to speak. But that is compatible with them afterwards being very clear on the product/producer distinction. But for the sake of argument, let us assume sufficiently many in the general public have a hard time making that distinction at all. How does that (assumed) fact provide a reason against Alex argument? Do you mean that political action aimed to abolishing the product will, given that social fact, be somehow practically incompatible with at the same time supporting (reforming) the working conditions and life situation of the workers? Can you give problem examples? Will political action aimed at limiting/abolishing the product necessarily cause decreased wellbeing for individuals producing porn? What causal processes do you have in mind?
By enan, on 17 March 2011 - 17:25 |
I omitted a word: that people DURING porn
By Mary Tracy, on 17 March 2011 - 20:40 |
Enan: Oh, but it does help a great deal. I state that you “can’t turn sex into a commodity” and it is true in a real concrete sense, not just in the moral one. What you get when you try to turn sex into a commodity is something that appears to be sex, but isn’t. The very act of commodifying something turns it into something else. A poor copy of the original which, by definition, cannot be bought or sold.
That is why when feminists charge against “porn” they do not see it as attacking sex.
By enan, on 17 March 2011 - 21:09 |
Mary Tracy: I hear you. But then you have moved to using the term “sex” in a very specific sense that is much more narrow than the sense that I take to be much more common. I see little use in making such a semantic shift. Why not say that it is sex but a form of sex that is morally problematic?
By Alex Doherty, on 08 April 2011 - 13:17 |
Great new interview with Robert Jensen: http://uweeklyaustin.com/blogs/f-bomb/posts/the-full-interview-with-robert-jensen-116/
By Laura Agustín, on 25 January 2012 - 21:12 |
How in the world can someone write ‘right-thinking progressives’ without blushing I don’t know. That’s what turned me off about this typical anti-porn piece, the assumption that there is a single politically correct / virtuous / righteous point of view. Terrible.
By Alex, on 25 January 2012 - 21:17 |
Did you mean to post this on the more recent blog post I wrote Laura? Anyway - the “right thinking progressive” thing was supposed to be tongue in cheek.