Ms Naughty Porn for Women Blog

I need to say something. Something that’s pretty obvious really: I’m a capitalist. I make porn to make money. It’s how I earn my living.

And it seems that some would argue that because I’m trying to make a profit from porn, this immediately means that anything I have to say on the topic of censorship or feminist porn is therefore tainted or hasn’t any weight. I got this aggravation from a certain angsty and light-on-for-facts female blogger last year and I’m feeling it again in the wake of the Our Porn, Ourselves conversation.

Audacia Ray, who I very much admire and respect, wrote this in her piece about the current stoush:

…there are plenty of people involved in the mainstream hetero porn world who are proponents of free speech being generously applied to the adult industry (dicey legal construction of “obscenity” be damned!), but their commitment to free speech is more about protecting their business interests than being renegade First Amendment advocates. Violet is very much not one of the motivated-by-porn-profit people, her interest in porn is actually about having an interest in the sexualities of women.

Audacia’s dichotomy makes me rather uncomfortable. It suggests that any effort to protect free speech should be somehow pure and untainted by the profit motivation. It’s a troubling assertion because it seems to suggest that those of us making a living from porn and protesting censorship (as I do regularly) are only motivated by a desire to protect an income stream. That’s a little too black-and-white for my liking.

Yes, I hate the idea of censorship because it means I wouldn’t be able to earn a living making porn. But that’s not the only reason, nor is it the biggest motivation. I hate it when other people tell me what I can and cannot read, see, hear, film or say. It offends me as a human being. Running a commercial adult business does not change that motivation. And I don’t doubt that John Stagliano, who is facing obscenity prosecutions, feels the same way.

The same applies with regards to the discussion of adult material, what it means and whether it may be a problem in our society. I’m a webmistress who is part of the adult industry but that doesn’t mean I don’t strongly believe in the ideals of feminist porn or automatically reject any valid criticism of porn. Yes, I have commercial issues to consider but it doesn’t negate my ideals or determination to make porn better. I’m not a saint, but then, is anybody?

Gail Dines, the organiser of the Stop Porn Culture conference, has dismissed me, Violet Blue and any other women who enjoy porn thusly:
“Women defending porn are likely deluded by the near trillion dollar industry.”

Ah, false consciousness is fun, isn’t it? You can dismiss almost anything by patting the other person on the head and telling them they “just don’t understand.”

I’m not deluded. I’m also not engaged in a purely cynical exercise just to make a buck in this alleged “trillion dollar industry”. If I were, I would have been selling Jenna Jameson products from the moment I started, not making porn for women like myself.

And I seriously doubt that all the women who are coming forward to defend the idea of freedom of speech and sexual expression aren’t just dupes of the evil porn industry. No doubt most of them have spent time thinking about porn and also struggling with the idea that women aren’t supposed to like it, on top of fact that so much of it is just plain bad. A woman who is brave enough to say she likes porn has given the issue some serious thought.

Unlike Boston Herald columnist Margery Eagan who happily wrote an entire column supporting the anti-porn conference without bothering to do a skerrick of research.

In any case, my point is this: Yes, I’m a capitalist but I also care deeply about feminism and freedom of speech. And I think that one should not preclude the other.

I want to say thanks to Violet Blue for working her butt off over the last couple of days, organising a new pro-porn group that she’s called Our Porn, Ourselves.

Violet was spurred into action by news of an anti-porn conference to be held in Boston by the Stop Porn Coalition, an organisation that calls itself feminist but in fact has hidden fundamentalist Christian roots. This “conference” is long on speakers who condemn porn but pretty short on alternative views or real science. They’re happily pushing the “porn addiction” paradigm which is, as I’ve previously said, bullshit.

Also this group were happy to make use of extreme hardcore images in their presentations without checking the age of viewers or obtaining 2257 records. Most of the images were taken from online sites without attribution. I recommend you read Violet’s article from 2008 for more information about this organisation.

I’m completely in support of Violet’s efforts to counteract the “Feminists Against Porn” (FAP) argument. Too much of it is based on dodgy science, hysteria and a real misunderstanding of sex and gender relations. Throw in a dash of religious fundamentalism and you have a dangerous ideology. And I think one of the worst effects of their Chicken Little crap is that this stuff gets in the way of real discussion about porn and what it means.

I call myself a feminist and I like porn. And yet I do have problems with a lot of the porn out there. I think we need to be talking about it and thinking about how to make porn better without it turning into a “them versus us” war. Unfortunately, the way this conference is framed, there’s no room for questioning the anti-porn line.

This new movement is a way for sex positive women to stand up and tell that world that not all feminists accept the Dworkinesque arguments pushed by these puritans. And I think it will also give us an opportunity to start a real dialogue about what we really want from porn.

So I’m standing behind Our Porn, Ourselves and For The Girls is sponsoring the film competition.

Please also check out Violet’s Facebook page for the movement (at least, until FB gets puritanical and takes it down).

You might also want to read a few of my previous posts about porn, feminism and “porn addiction”
Naomi Wolf talks porn… again
This load of guilt and shame brought to you by Dirty Girls Ministries

Here’s the little image I made for the campaign:

A couple of years ago I expressed disappointment that Naomi Wolf had come out and declared “modesty” in the form of religious veiling to be feminist. Before that I was sick of her endlessly recycled article on porn.

Now she’s touring Australia and is once again talking porn, this time in an interview in the Sydney Morning Herald. I waded in, begrudgingly and emerged with mixed feelings about what she had to say.

Put briefly, Naomi Wolf still thinks porn is bad, mmmkay. Her reason for this is that “it’s definitely affecting young women and men’s sexual development deeply, deeply, deeply.” She argues that seeing porn from an early age is changing the way young people have sex and that it is not encouraging women to embrace their sexuality properly. She bases this mainly on anecdotal evidence, tales of female students fronting up to doctor’s offices with anal fissures after a first date. She says: “Young women do compare themselves to pornography and they do have porn running in their heads when they’re in sexual situations. I’m not a prude, but I don’t think that’s good for their sexual confidence or confidence in their bodies.”

I’m conflicted about these kinds of statements because I do acknowledge the concern there. Mainstream porn can send a lot of negative messages about body image and sexuality and we need to be talking to young people about it.

What I’m uncertain about is whether all these frightening anecdotal stories of girls being fucked over by ignorant porn-loving guys are true on a large scale. Are young people really imitating what they see in porn? Have anal and facials really become de-rigeur? Or are today’s young people actually more sex-, tech- and porn-savvy than that? Where’s the actual research?

One of the things that’s never mentioned during these “teens look at porn!” panics is the idea that, alongside all that easy access to porn is a simultaneous easy access to information. Girls in my day (and Naomi’s) weren’t able to find porn within a few keystrokes but we also weren’t really able to easily find information about sex. Cosmo “101 positions” articles and Dolly sex advice columns were about the best we could do.

Now things are different. Your average teen can easily look up information on any aspect of sex (type “sex advice into Google”). There is a vast amount of sexual information available on the internet, including sites like Go Ask Alice and Scarleteen that are specifically focused on young people. Add to that the many feminist sites discussing porn and sexuality and even sites like Make Love Not Porn which seeks to counter misconceptions about sex and porn.

So while I’m happy to acknowledge that it’s a problem if teens are using porn as sex education, I’m wondering if they’re really the startled ingenues everyone assumes them to be.

And I guess the question is: if we are worried about how young people use porn, what’s the response? I’m all for education and communication, talking about sex and the way that sex is depicted in porn and in society as a whole. Naomi’s solution, unfortunately, is abstinence:

Research shows that pornography desensitises; if you consume it a lot, you need more or more extreme or more and more intense images in order to get the same sensations over time… The best thing we can do is try to persuade young women and men that it’s not good for their sex lives, it’s not good for their self-confidence, and they’ll have better sex if they choose not to let this stuff shape their sense of sexuality.

My question is: what research? Are we talking the same research done by those earnest Christians who are out to prove that porn is “addictive”? Because their philosophical position and Naomi’s end up in a similar place: Porn is bad, mmmkay. (See my previous post on Dirty Girls Ministries to see just how similar their arguments can get.)

Naomi was asked about where non-mainstream and queer porn fits in. Interestingly, she acknowledges that some porn can be liberating and self-affirming but then she quickly skirts around the issue, returning to her main argument that it is desensitising. It’s not surprising she brushes past the topic because I think it’s one of the great sticking points in her case.

There are plenty of people who are enjoying non-mainstream porn and discovering new aspects of their sexuality through erotic imagery and writing. Porn can revive relationships and help women to orgasm for the first time. It can showcase different sexualities, different body types, different techniques and different experiences and this can be very reassuring to see. Porn like the films of Tony Comstock can also affirm the beauty of the sex act and the way it expresses love and intimacy. I simply can’t accept that fact that porn is, in essence, a completely negative thing that will always impact badly on a person’s sexuality. This assertion is just not true.

It really keeps coming back to the idea that porn is this giant, heterogeneous thing, something that only ever shows hetero sex where the woman is submissive or abused. Sure, there’s far too much of that out there and we do need to be talking about it and discussing its merits or lack thereof. But to dismiss the whole idea of porn as automatically damaging is far too simplistic an argument.

On Saturday the 10th in Toronto, Good For Her announced the winners of the 2010 Feminist Porn Awards. They are:

Best Bi Movie – Fluid: Men Redefining Sexuality | Madison Young | Reel Queer Productions
Hottest Dyke Movie and Hottest Kink Movie| River Rock Women`s Prison | Kathryn Annelle | Triangle Films
Most Deliciously Diverse Cast | Dangerous Curves | Carlos Batts | HeartCore Films
Hottest Feature Film | The Band | Anna Brownfield | Hungry Films
Most Tantalizing Trans Film | Speakeasy | Courtney Trouble| Reel Queer Productions
Sexiest Short | Handcuffs | Erika Lust | Lust Films
TheSmutty Schoolteacher Award for Sex Education | Tristan Taorminos Expert Guide to Anal Pleasure for Men | Tristan Taormino | Vivid Ed and Smart Ass Productions
Best Direction | Des Jours Plus Belles Que La Nuit | Jennifer Lyon Bell & Murielle Scherre | Blue Artichoke Films + La Fille’ D’O
Sexiest Straight Movie | The Deviant | Nica Noelle | Sweet Sinner Video
Good Releasing Emerging Filmmaker Award | Tobi Hill-Meyer
Heartthrob of the Year | April Flores
The Boundary Breaker | Jiz Lee
The Visionary | Shine Louise Houston
The Trailblazer | Tristan Taormino
Hottest Website: Rubysdiary.com

Honorary mentions
Dirty Diaries: 12 Shorts of Feminist Porn
Women Love Porn
Sensual Massage for Pregnancy
Cocksucker

Congratulations to all the winners. You’ll find more info about them and their films on the GFH website.

For The Girls was nominated for Best Website but I’m not really surprised we didn’t win. Maybe when this bastard of a new member’s area is done and we are finally able to forge ahead with all our plans for new content… next year we’ll get the gong. And even then if we don’t, not to worry. To me, seven years of amazing success and happy members is reward enough.

Edit 13th April: Here’s a couple of news stories:
The New Pornographers – Torontoist
San Francisco’s 2010 FPA Winners – The Examiner
Beyond that, there wasn’t much press coverage.

You may have noticed that my blog was kinda dead for a week. That’s because I’d tripped off to Melbourne to attend the Global Atheist Conference.

I wasn’t going to write about it on this blog. After all, it should be about porn, right? And I don’t want to alienate any of my readers who may be religious in their own way. But I feel the need to have a bit of a ramble about myself and what I experienced at the convention because it touches on the two things that define this blog: feminism and porn.

As a teenager I was a Christian but we never went to church. My family were very liberal in their beliefs and we didn’t go in for all the hymn-singing and praying stuff. As the years went by I whittled down my idea of religion into a fairly nebulous blob of “spirituality”. I thought that I’d probably go to heaven when I died because I was nice and surely God would see that. Beyond that, I didn’t think about it much. I’d read my bible, knew a lot of it was horribly violent and nonsensical but figured I liked the philosophy of Jesus. He was a good guy, like Ghandi. Still, I had serious problems with his followers and their idea of morality, particularly sexual morality.

It all changed when I read the God Delusion last year. I couldn’t fault the argument of Richard Dawkins against the existence of God/gods. I realised that I was actually an atheist but I hadn’t really examined my beliefs properly up until that point. It was confronting to realise that yes, I was going to die and that would be the end of me. At the same time, that realisation is rather freeing. I’ve got one life, I need to make the best of it. When I die, my non-existence will be exactly the same as it was before I was born.

SO… what’s this got to do with porn and feminism?

Fact is, religion is a major factor in the way we approach sex and gender. Unfortunately, the impact of religion on sexuality has been largely negative. The Christian/Jewish/Muslim view of sex as being sinful and dirty informs how we construct our own sexuality; it shapes what we find to be sexy. The idea of women as either Madonnas or whores is reflected in porn’s treatment of women.

You see the results in the very language of porn: how women are sluts and whores, how porn titles often use the words sinful, secret, dirty, filthy. I’ve seen people say that sex is best when it’s dirty. There’s so much guilt and shame surrounding the act that we rope in these emotions and fetishize them. The result is sexual expression that is often problematic, sexist, unrealistic and demeaning.

On top of that, so much of the opposition to porn comes from religious people and is informed by a religious morality that dictates a very narrow view of sexuality: that monogomy is the only acceptable form of relationship; that homosexuality is wrong; that “promiscuity” is sinful; that certain sex acts such as anal sex are evil; that masturbation is harmful. The push to label all porn as “addictive” has its roots in the desire of some religious people to control the sex lives of others.

Similarly, I find that the lives of women the world over are negatively affected by religion. All the monotheistic religions, Hinduism and even some strands of Buddhism teach that women are inferior. The entire basis of Islam seems to rest on the idea that men cannot control their sexual desires but it is women who are responsible for the sexual behaviour of men. Across the world oppression, violence and rape are regularly perpetrated against women in the name of God.

One of the best things about the atheist convention was that it was openly feminist. There was no animosity towards the concept of feminism whatsoever. The equality of men and women was accepted as self evident by everyone there. It occurred to me that I’ve rarely felt so comfortable with expressing feminist ideas. There was no animosity, no nervousness from the guys, no hesitant expressions of “I’m not a feminist but…” It was all relaxed and intelligent. Imagine how far we could get if all discourses on feminism were like that?

One of the highlights for me was the speech by Bangladeshi author and feminist Taslima Nasrin who is currently in exile from her home country and under the threat of several fatwas from Islamic fundamentalists. She was forced out of India in 2007 because she dared to write an article criticizing the burka and the way women are treated by Islam. She said: “Religion is made for the pleasure and comfort of men. I don’t know why any woman would subscribe to it.” For her, there is no compromise between Islam and feminism. She believes that a woman who wears the veil cannot call herself a feminist because she hasn’t properly analysed the religion that seeks to oppress her. This is from a woman who was brought up as a Muslim.

As she described the pain of living in exile and the constant fear of assassination, I blinked back tears. The audience gave her a standing ovation. Here is what feminism is really about, I thought. Here is a woman risking death in order to speak her mind, speaking out against women’s oppression.

And then I thought, I’m a feminist because I’m an atheist and I’m an atheist because I’m a feminist.

At the convention, we discussed a lot of things: philosophy, ethics, evolutionary biology, science and politics. While there was a huge diversity of opinion on show, one thing we all agreed on is the idea of a secular society. Church and state need to be separate. Political action should be based on evidence and reason, not personal belief.

Everyone has the right to their own religion (or lack thereof) but they should keep it to themselves. When we start telling each other how to behave according to religious beliefs, conflict and oppression are the inevitable result.

Every day I see examples of the way that religion is exerting too much influence on our society and causing harm. The bans on gay marriage, the growth of abstinence-based sex education in the US, the Catholic church’s sex abuse scandals, the Pope saying that condoms are not the answer to AIDS, the plan to censor the internet in Australia, the ongoing oppression of women in Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan and Iran, the widespread practice of female genital mutilation, the attacks on reproductive choice and the right to abortion for women, the tax-free status given to churches so they can prosletyse, the death threats against those who speak out against Islam. The murder of Dr Tiller. The whole Arab/Israeli conflict. 9/11… I could go on.

Because I oppose these things, I’m an atheist. And it’s part of my larger philosophy, one that includes feminism and what the psychologists stupidly call “erotophilia” – an enjoyment of sex without shame. I’m also a humanist; I believe in a secular society, freedom of speech and universal human rights.

I hope that there are religious people out there who also believe in these things and will stand up for them. In that we have lots of common ground.

I hope this post hasn’t put off any of my readers; I realise this is one of those issues that can be confronting and I certainly didn’t want to upset anyone with it. Rather, it’s simply a statement of where I’m at right now, and why I felt it important to attend that convention.

I think that the path to atheism is a very personal thing; you can’t really “convert” people to this way of thinking. They have to be ready to go there themselves. There’s no dazzling miracles on display, no mystical experiences to be had. Only the wonder of the physical universe and life on Earth and a sense of amazement at the improbable fact of your own existence.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled porn.

This week sees the premiere of Dirty Diaries, a new feminist porn film helmed by filmmaker Mia Engberg. The movie features twelve shorts created by different women, each offering their own version of what’s sexy. The above pics are stills from three of the films: Skin, For The Liberation of Men and Flasher Girl On Tour.

“Erotica is good and we need it,” says the Dirty Diaries manifesto. “We truly believe that it is possible to create an alternative to the mainstream porn industry by making sexy films that we like.”

Mia talks about her film in this article from a Swedish news site.

Throughout the history of art, the image of woman has been created by men. The gaze has been a man’s gaze and female sexuality has been limited to a few identities that have suited the patriarchal system (and the male artistic ego): whore, wife, mother, muse.
…
We have been faced with many questions. Is there a female sexuality that can be differentiated from its male counterpart and, if so, what does it look like? Is it possible to be subject and object at the same time? How can we liberate our own sexual imagination from the commercial images we see every day and that seep into our subconscious minds?

Unfortunately, some people have objected to the film. They’ve taken exception to the use of public money to fund the project and also have a problem with it being approved because it’s feminist.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Art is subjective. For the state to decide that feminist porn is art but ‘regular’ porn is reprehensible is little more than paternalistic moralising and sends out all the wrong signals in the equality debate. Equality is an important issue, but it should never function as a cloak for state funding of ideologies that are somehow deemed correct in the eyes of the authorities.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have public funding and the subsequent abuse. In Australia we could go to jail just for MAKING feminist porn.

In any case, I welcome yet another addition to the growing pantheon of feminist porn and I can’t wait to see Dirty Diaries. Will try and review it soon.

Bam. Two negative, almost hateful diatribes against female-focused erotic fiction books in as many days.

Instead of being condemned as a cheapjack book slut pandering to male fantasies, you will be profiled in the serious press, with a photograph of you dressed demurely, and women will not be ashamed to be seen reading your book on the Tube. Feminist websites will praise you for “provoking debate in intellectual circles” and claim your book “does not intend to function as porn” (even though it sort of is porn).
- Feminist slant for female erotica writers – The Times Online

and

Roche and others from the new wave of women shock-jocks tell us that baring their fantasies, or recounting their love lives in lurid and exhaustive detail, is uniquely emancipating.

While I would fight tooth and claw for women’s right to sexual freedom, I’m not sure the sisterhood has gained much if it sees that freedom as a chance to brag about sex and conquests in the same kind of tedious and lewd manner that made the new lad so obnoxious back in the Nineties.
Un-erotica? As another female writer publishes an explicit novel is this new feminism or a tawdry betrayal of women? – The Daily Mail

The first piece derides all those nasty women writers for daring to dabble in erotica, because it’s really just porn, you know. And porn’s for men, after all.

The second piece happily indulges in all the usual false consciousness assumptions about how women who explore their sexuality mustn’t really know what they’re doing. That they’ve been duped, somehow, and isn’t it a shame they’ve lost their femininity like that?

The shoes-in-handcuffs idea pays lip service to the concept that exploring your sexuality equals being enslaved or degraded by it.

There’s this ongoing idea that writing about sex is inevitably tawdry, that writing something to induce arousal is a less noble and certainly less literary pursuit, one that should only be done by dirty old men in raincoats.

Facts. It IS feminist to have sex whenever and however you want. That’s a choice that women should be free to make. It’s a feminist act to express your thoughts and feelings about sex. And when a woman challenges the whole Madonna/Whore myth by publicly revealing that she is a voracious sexual being, she does all women a favour.

Now, go and read Girl With A One Track Mind. I’m sure she has a heap more to say on this topic.

Well, I think Naomi Wolf has lost it.

I was less than impressed with her endlessly-repeated article about porn which relied heavily on assumptions about what men think. And I was also puzzled by her fascination with the idea that Jewish Orthodox modesty was “so hot.”

Now she’s taken that concept and run with it, declaring that Muslim women are far freer in the expression of their sexuality while covered head-to-toe in a chador than we stupid Western chicks.

A few quotes:

This may explain why both Muslim and Orthodox Jewish women not only describe a sense of being liberated by their modest clothing and covered hair, but also express much higher levels of sensual joy in their married lives than is common in the West. When sexuality is kept private and directed in ways seen as sacred – and when one’s husband isn’t seeing his wife (or other women) half-naked all day long – one can feel great power and intensity when the headscarf or the chador comes off in the the home.

Among healthy young men in the West, who grow up on pornography and sexual imagery on every street corner, reduced libido is a growing epidemic, so it is easy to imagine the power that sexuality can carry in a more modest culture. And it is worth understanding the positive experiences that women – and men – can have in cultures where sexuality is more conservatively directed.

and

When you choose your own miniskirt and halter top – in a Western culture in which women are not so free to age, to be respected as mothers, workers or spiritual beings, and to disregard Madison Avenue – it’s worth thinking in a more nuanced way about what female freedom really means.

I’ve got more than a few problems with what’s being said here. It’s hard to know where to start.

I should begin by saying that I am philosophically opposed to Islam. I’m an athiest, for a start, so that means I’m not keen on any kind of religion or the ridiculous rules they impose on people.

I’m also opposed to the sexism and entrenched discrimination that exists within the Muslim religion and within societies that are primarily Islamic. I’ve read the Koran and it (like the Bible) has numerous edicts that explicitly deny women their human rights. As a feminist, I cannot support that.

I reject the Islamic stance on sexuality and male-female relations – the very thing that Naomi Wolf is defending. This view of the world sees all men as sexual predators and all women as sexual prizes. It essentially defines individuals according to preconceived ideas about how men and women will interact if they are allowed to mingle freely with each other. In Islam, all men are rapists, and all women are victims (sounds a bit like Andrea Dworkin, now I think about it.)

Women must be protected, hence the veil, hence the curtailment of their freedom, because their virginity and sexual useability are the only thing considered valuable by Islam. Men, meanwhile, cannot be trusted to control their lustful, animal instincts. Even the sight of a woman’s ankle will incite a man to rape.

But, of course, if he does rape, it’s not really his fault. And the woman will need four witnesses in a court to prove otherwise, according to the Koran. And her testimony is only worth half that of a man’s.

When this is the sort of attitude that lies behind the idea of “the veil”, I find it very difficult to feel sympathetic towards it. And yet that’s exactly what Naomi Wolf is asking us to do. She’s suggesting that this kind of philosophical opposition is just “Western misunderstanding”.

She talks about choice, saying that some Muslim and Jewish women who choose to cover up feel that they are treated more as individuals and less as sexual objects by others. Note, by the way, that she really is only talking about some women, but she writes as if ALL of them feel that way.

It’s certainly an interesting idea and I can respect their choice to live according to their own beliefs. At the same time I think they’re buying into a world view that still defines them according to sex. I mean, think about it. You walk around covered up from head to toe and wearing a head scarf, you’re essentially saying that every man you meet is only interested in your body. And you’re signifying your belief that you can only be taken seriously if your skin isn’t showing.

I don’t know about you, but I like to think that men aren’t quite that bestial.

And I think that Naomi’s defence of choice is problematic in this context, simply because the vast majority of Muslim women in the world aren’t given the option. Wearing the veil is either written into law or it’s considered the cultural norm, to the point that those who don’t cover up are harassed, abused or worse.

And let’s think about those little girls who are also made to wear the veil and denied the freedoms that their brothers enjoy. Where’s the choice or the sexual freedom there?

The whole concept of “modesty” might be a little more acceptable if it were applied to both sexes and if individuals were freely allowed to make that choice, but the fact is that it’s only women who are required to hide their bodies and hair. It’s the women who get the rough end of the stick. Why defend that as a feminist virtue?

I take umbrage at the idea that a hidden sexuality is somehow better than one that is freely expressed. I think it all depends upon your point of view. You get good and bad marriages within Islam and within the Western world. If a relationship is happy and successful it doesn’t really matter what you wear, I suspect. And if either partner develops feelings of jealousy because the other is looking (looking) at the opposite sex, I would say that it’s not the clothes that are the problem.

I also reject the idea that Western women are “forced” to wear skimpy clothing or to be overtly sexual. This assertion is part of that whole “raunch culture” moral panic which interprets autonomous female sexuality as merely an expression of victimhood (i.e. women only pole dance or watch porn to impress the guys, they never make that decision just to please themselves). Yes, you can argue that fashion and popular culture are fairly determined to dress women up like Barbie dolls, but that doesn’t mean we have to actually do it.

And yes, there are men out there who are determined to treat all women like sex objects. But why should their opinions impact upon how I live my life? Why should I restrict my own movements or change my dress because of what they think or say? Fuck them, is the correct answer here.

I’m a Western woman. Most days, I wear clothing that is decidedly unsexy, mainly because I find it comfortable – and I don’t give a damn about what other people think of me. I don’t bother with makeup or high heels and I don’t spend hours doing my hair. I just wear clothes and go out, very much in the same way that men do.

You could argue that I too am treated as an individual rather than as a sex object because I’m wearing my sensible shoes, trousers and unfashionable top. I do understand what those Muslim women are saying about not having to adhere to a certain expectation of “femininity”.

But I don’t feel that my choice of clothing magically enhances my sex life and I certainly don’t think I’m somehow morally superior to those who may be wearing less clothing, for whatever reason.

And when it’s summer, I myself will be wearing less clothing, again because it’s comfortable (even if Naomi says that I’m actually brazenly walking around “half naked”). And I have a major problem with anybody or any religion that tells me I’m a “whore” or not truly free because I might wear a halter top in hot weather. I have a choice and I take responsibility for myself. That’s the whole point of feminism, right?

Naomi’s assertion that Western men are suffering from reduced libido is not based on any research or statistics that I’m aware of. I think her whole argument relies on vague anecdotes and – dare I say it – her own yearnings for the old-fashioned notions of noble marriage as described in romance novels.

If Naomi is genuinely concerned about women’s freedom and sexuality, she needs to go back to addressing attitudes and societal expectations about how women should look and behave and how men should treat women. And she needs to take a more critical view of religion and its role in how women are treated around the world.

Those women who are able to choose the chador or the veil are welcome to it. It’s their life. Just as I reserve the right to wear what I want and to hold my own beliefs. But I will not accept the assertion that their choice and their life is somehow more feminist or free than mine. I think that covering up and hiding sexuality merely gives in to (and feeds) existing sexism, rather than fighting it.

Pic is from this blog page, I can’t find the original image or the artist, unfortunately.

Obsessing about my place in Google once again I found a rather long winded feminist essay about women’s porn, entitled: Rape Culture: Renegotiating Sexual Subjectivity on Porn Sites for Women. The piece takes a rather large philosophical stick to Sssh.com, which is an adult site for women that’s been around for roughly the same time as For The Girls. It does this in an attempt to make a general point about porn for women, which is that it somehow upholds the patriarchal “rape culture.”

Unfortunately the author, Caroline Godart, does not bother to define what “rape culture” actually is so I was confused from the very beginning about what point is being made. I can only assume that it’s the same ol’ same ol’ – that women’s erotica, in the form of adult sites like Sssh.com and FTG, reinforces gender roles and stereotypes. At least, I think that’s what she’s saying, although the piece is so full of academic-sounding references to Foucault, the Panopticon, the Lacanian Symbolic order, “haptic space” and other obscurities that I started to glaze over a little. I may call myself a feminist but that doesn’t mean I’ve done any study or serious reading on the topic, and this means I get kind of bored with extensive critical academic discussions about feminist theory.

Yes, I’m a philistine. What do you expect from an evil pornographer?

In any case, what did get my attention was the bizarre argument the author uses to conclude that Sssh.com reinforces “rape culture.” She says that because Sssh.com does not depict any rape fantasies, which many women have, it’s essentially not empowering women to fight against patriarchy and thus helps to perpetuate rape. So, no rape on the site equals rape.

I can almost see the logic here… but then it eludes me. Especially when the author is using descriptions like these:

Far from being traitors to their own kind, women who indulge in rape fantasies disguise themselves and poly-identify; they transform and appropriate a prototypical narrative that inherently dismisses the possibility for them to access power, especially in order to reach sexual satisfaction. They enable the fantasizing subject to use an oppressive culture over which she has no agency, by a clandestine appropriation of cultural “products,” i.e. the omnipresence of rape.

Hmmm. But of course. It’s far more complicated than I thought.

My understanding of the idea comes from Nancy Friday’s original research into women’s sex fantasies. In My Secret Garden (1975), she first discovered the prevalence of rape fantasies among the women she interviewed and concluded that they were primarily about women escaping sexual guilt by having pleasure forced upon them. In Women On Top (1991) she found that rape fantasies had actually declined among the younger generation because the guilt about sex was not nearly as prevalent.

In any case, in pondering the rather confusing idea that no rape = rape I found myself wanting to defend Sssh.com and, by association, FTG. While I don’t mind a good philosophical feminist argument about what constitutes porn for women and what it means for feminism, I’d like to at least be able to understand what the hell the critics are on about.

How do you depict heterosexual sex in a feminist way? That’s the big question here folks. Because for some feminists, any depiction of hetero sex is about men oppressing women. They can only see a negative power exchange and patriarchy in the act of penetration – this may be the “rape culture” the author speaks about.

But an awful lot of women don’t buy that. It’s why you get so many young chicks disavowing that they’re a feminist. I’ve argued before that women shouldn’t be made to feel ashamed of their fantasies or desires if they are “stereotypical” or sexist… what gets you off may be seriously politically incorrect, but it does the trick, giddy up.

So who is Caroline Godart to applaud rape fantasies but reject the “normative” depiction of hetero sex? If porn’s intent is primarily to arouse, then you need to consider that fact when making a critical judgement of what’s being depicted.

I also want people to remember that, in the end, it’s just a porn site. That means it essentially exists to make money. In doing so, a site like Sssh.com aims itself at as broad a market as possible and tries to make the majority of surfers happy. Usually that means catering to middle class women who are keen to indulge in a little porn without all the offensive crap. They also want to feel comfortable with their sexuality and not alienated or threatened. This means that you’re probably not going to find cutting edge sexual representations on that kind of site.

I like to think that FTG has a strong feminist ethic and we do feature a range of perspectives and ideas within the site. At the same time, we still rely mainly on the stuff that others brand as “stereotypical” because that’s what our members (and we the site owners) want to see.

I like to think we could feature a rape fantasy within our Wicked Ways (letters) section at some time in the future although that would depend on someone actually submitting one. I acknowledge that women do have rape fantasies and that they should be expressed. But even making sure it’s in context may cause problems. We have to deal with our credit card processor who occasionally does a scan of our content and orders us to change certain words or content if it is deemed offensive. Thus, I once had to change an article discussing rape so that the “r word” became “sexual assault.”

As with a great many things, commercial factors do come into play and they do make a difference to the final product. I’m well aware that I straddle a line between my feminist philosophy and my desire to make a living from porn. No doubt I could sit down and produce a adult site that ticked all the boxes when it comes to critical feminism but I’m not sure it would be very sexy, or that it would make much money.

Something has been bugging me for a long time now, so I’m going to have a little rant about it.

It seems that there are a lot of people out there who don’t like the term “porn for women.” I realise this – and I’ve discussed the ins and outs of it plenty of times on the blog. But I’m just gonna have to talk about it again.

The thing is that it seems any new female-focused erotica or porn now has to be prefaced with all sorts of disclaimers, disavowing that it’s this thing called “porn for women” in case someone assumes it’s soft focus romance porn similar to Candida Royalle’s work (and not that there’s anything wrong with that, I might add.)

The determined quotes on the back of the Dirty Girls erotica anthology being a case in point.

Another example: Whenever the sex blog Fleshbot posts about a female-friendly film such as Petra Joy’s Female Fantasies, or Erika Lust’s Five Hot Stories For Her, they have to always – ALWAYS – make some little comment at the start about how they don’t even know what “porn for women” is and how it’s such a silly concept. Thus:

We can’t help but roll our eyes a little when someone starts going on and on about “porn for women”—like men can’t appreciate well-shot productions featuring sexy models who look (and fuck) like real people and not porn star caricatures? Snark aside, UK director Petra Joy’s second film “Female Fantasies” looks so good we could eat it… Link

Sure, Fleshbot, I can see your point, but what’s with the bias? Especially when you have an entire category labelled “porn for women.” What’s wrong with identifying a particular audience for your porn movie?

Another example: a review of Anna Span’s latest film at Strictly Broadband spends several paragraphs reassuring readers that even though it was made by a woman and aimed at a female audience, they could rest assured that it had none of that nasty romance stuff and was just as hardcore as the next movie on the shelf.

I keep seeing this a lot lately.

And then there’s this post at Boinkology, discussing another blog’s lame joke idea that “porn for women” involves missionary position sex and choosing baby names afterwards.

A commenter says: “Smart thing would be to stop addressing the question as Porn For Women or Porn for Ladies or what women want from porn altogether.”

OK… so it would seem that an awful lot of people have decided that the term “porn for women” means softcore or boring porn. And then a whole bunch of other people have got their backs up because they feel the term “porn for women” isn’t valid because it somehow makes sweeping statements about “what women want.” Add to that all those people who feel that vanilla sex or romance in porn is either boring or not worthy of consideration.

And here I am, the antichrist, with my porn for women blog and various sites. And I run For The Girls which may very well be everything these people hate. Even though it’s such a huge and diverse site, a lot of people make assumptions about what it stands for.

It’s all getting a bit much.

Now I think it’s time I put this backlash against “porn for women” into perspective.

Cast your mind back ten years to 1998. Porn on the internet was starting to become a fairly major business. Paysites were popping up everywhere and the internet wasn’t flooded with cheap free porn like today. Photos were pretty much all you could get.

In 1998 I wrote an article for Australian Women’s Forum about what porn there was on the internet for women like myself. I wanted to find ANYTHING that spoke to me as a female. It took me a long time to find anything much. And remember, I’m a librarian so I wasn’t just stumbling around hoping to get lucky. I did eventually find two sites that were specifically aimed at women, one of them being Purve, the first women’s erotica paysite (now defunct).

So, in 1998, “porn for women” was pretty much a non-existent thing. A couple of websites and Candida Royalle’s film catalogue.

In 2000 when I became an adult webmaster, I focused on porn for women because it was something I was passionate about and I knew there were other women like me who were looking for something different – something that spoke to women as a viewer.

In those early days there was a small group of female webmasters who got together and discussed women’s erotica – what it should be, what we liked and who we were marketing to. Most of us liked similar stuff – naked guys, hardcore couples pics without the sexism, and erotic fiction. None of us thought much of facial cumshots.

We each made our own sites but we were also on something of an evangelical mission. The vast majority of the adult industry dismissed the idea that women would seek out and pay for porn (it still does). We constantly made an effort to get our message out to other webmasters that what we were doing was worthwhile. We told them that they should stop assuming that every porn surfer was male.

I even wrote an article for AVN about it.

It took a long time, but a lot of industry people listened. That’s why, folks, you’ll find “for women” categories at every major linklist and TGP out there. That’s why some major companies created paysites for women (although I must admit they were pretty crappy, hence I made my own). And that’s why there is now a distinct “niche” within porn known as “porn for women.” Type the phrase into Google and you’ll get thousands upon thousands of sites.

Fact is, I was one of the people who helped shape the idea of “porn for women.”

The idea is – and always was – to create a separate space in the pornosphere that said “Yes, girls, we know you’re here. Come on in and enjoy yourself.”

So, now it’s 2008 and there’s a desire to question the whole concept of “porn for women.” I understand this and I think it’s a debate worth having. I agree that you cannot pick one particular form of sexual content and say “that’s what women want.” And yes, the word “women” is vast and nebulous and includes lesbians and straight chicks and bi girls and everything.

Nonetheless I still believe that the term is valid and useful and will remain so while ever mainstream porn remains so overwhelmingly aimed at men.

Consider, if you will, the way it is still difficult for a straight female porn consumer to find what she wants and the way she is largely ignored by the porn industry:

* A woman types in “porn” and she ends up an adult site where every photo is of a naked woman and all the language assumes the reader is male.
* A woman types in “naked men” and every site is aimed at – and speaks to – gay men
* The vast majority of straight DVD boxcovers feature a naked woman
* The vast majority of porn movies don’t feature a female orgasm
* The vast majority of porn sites and movies focus on male fantasy
* The vast majority of porn sites and movies give priority to male sexual pleasure and satisfaction.
* The vast majority of straight porn films and photographs make an effort to cut the man out of the frame.
* Porn still perpetuates sexism, gender and racial stereotypes and it portrays women who like sex as sluts, bitches or whores who don’t deserve respect.

Until ALL those things are gone, women who like porn will be on the outer. And they will go looking for something different. Using the term “porn for women” is a great way to raise a flag, to get their attention, to say “Hey! Here’s something that’s different!”

Yes, things are changing. Indie porn producers are abandoning the old cliches and stereotypes and there is a genuine effort to create adult material that appeals to both men and women.

But even when the heady day comes that all porn is equal and has left behind the baggage… I still think the term “porn for women” will be useful. Because how else can you describe a movie that is aimed specifically at women? One that features female fantasies and focuses only on a woman’s pleasure? One that doesn’t give a damn if it turns on the male audience or not?

I’d say that was porn for women.

Giving credit where credit is due: Pic is of Candida Royalle’s Femme – her first film and the very beginning of what is now called porn for women.

The newspapers seem to have gone into a gurgling meltdown this week over the upcoming Sex and The City Movie. Which prompts me to rant.

Me and Sex and The City were not friends. It pissed me off. I think I only managed to watch a couple of episodes before I gave up in frustration.

Sure, it was nice to have a show that talked so openly about sex, but I just had no time for any of the female characters. I had no empathy with them, no central point of reference. These single, shoe-obsessed, cocktail drinking city women seemed exactly like the kind of Cosmopolitan chicks I gave up on years ago. They seemed horribly self-obsessed, too thin and kind of vapid. Their relationships with men were shallow and painful to watch.

So I found it increasingly frustrating when SATC become a standard media signifier for the “liberation of women’s sexuality.” Every article and TV show saw the series as a zeitgeist, something that all young women loved. The four main female characters were women we were supposed to admire.

The thing is this: I don’t live in a city. I don’t lust after high heel shoes, go on diets or drink expensive cocktails. I actually drink chardonnay and wear pyjamas to work (though not necessarily at the same time). I don’t spend hours complaining that my date was “too nice” because I’m happily married to the nicest, most wonderful man in the world. And I am perfectly sexually liberated, thank you very much.

And now it’s all back, with extra plastic surgery on top. And the media will soon be making the same statements about “post feminism” (ugh) and how it’s OK for women to have a vibrator because it was on Sex and The City. Sigh.

The other thing is this: Sarah Jessica Parker… what happened? I used to put her on my teenage lists of coolest ever girls, back when she had a big nose and starred in ditzy 80s movies like Girls Just Want To Have Fun. God I loved that movie when I was 13. It was Dirty Dancing before anyone knew who Patrick Swayze was. Sarah and Helen Hunt were just it on a stick to me and I used to dream of going on Dance TV and winning the competition and the gorgeous hunk’s heart. (Cue big dreamy girly sigh).

You know, when So You Think You Can Dance started I actually found myself thinking of that movie, musing that it was only 20 years too late for me.

You know what else? I’ve successfully turned this angry rant into a trip down memory lane. Time to go and drink some chardonnay…

On October 20, 2003 an article called “The Porn Myth” by Naomi Wolf appeared in NYMag. The article suggests that porn desensitises men to real women and thus ruins relationships. She says that women now have to compete with a porn star aesthetic:

Now you have to offer—or flirtatiously suggest—the lesbian scene, the ejaculate-in-the-face scene. Being naked is not enough; you have to be buff, be tan with no tan lines, have the surgically hoisted breasts and the Brazilian bikini wax—just like porn stars.

The article begins with Naomi saying that “at a benefit the other night, I saw Andrea Dworkin.” Dworkin died in 2005. Naomi also writes that she is 40 in this article. She was born in 1962.

In the almost five years since The Porn Myth first appeared, the article has popped up as a new item in Google news several times, even though the text remains exactly the same. There’s no actual date on the piece. And NYMag has recycled it again this month, prompting another wave of commentators to use it as an excuse to rail against the evils of porn (latest example: Is porn making men too picky?).

I find the whole thing rather frustrating. Why is a five-year-old piece of opinion being recycled like this? Doesn’t Naomi have anything new to say on the topic?

And it’s bothersome because I’m not sure if Wolf’s conclusions are correct. There’s a lot of assumptions going on and not much evidence to back it up beyond anecdotes from friends.

Fact is, five years later we still don’t know what men really think about porn, or what affect it’s having on our sex lives. You only have to see the enormous debate on a post called “How Porn Ruined Sex” at Jezebel to know that this is a complex issue that nobody has really researched.

It’s entirely possible that young, inexperienced men are getting the wrong idea about sex because of porn. If that’s the only info you’re getting, chances are you’ll be a little confused. But it’s a long bow to draw to say that all men are becoming desensitised, that porn is addictive and ruins relationships, yada yada yada. If we’re only going to rely on anecdotal evidence, then there are plenty of guys out there refuting Wolf’s argument on the net, saying “nothing is better than the real thing.” Example here.

And I have to say, Naomi really loses me when she starts to argue that the headscarves and conservative religious attitudes to sex are somehow sexier than the freedom of dress and association that a liberated Western women enjoys.

While I appreciate the point she is trying to make, this article is just too problematic to keep reappearing in the media like this. Where is the new commentary on this?

Ever since reading the Jezebel debate I’ve been thinking about the issue of how porn affects men and relationships and whether porn reflects male fantasy or creates it. It’s probably time I got on with posting about it. Stay tuned.

The Dominion has an article about porn for women and the feminist porn awards. Admittedly, they’re six months late with the awards, but the piece does discuss women’s erotica in an interesting way.

As for the opposite of feminist pornography, “any film made with female coercion” would qualify, says [Chanelle] Gallant. She stresses that feminist porn is not a genre. You can’t identify it by pointing to certain aspects of storyline, sexual content, or its status as soft or hardcore. Feminist porn does not look like something in particular; it acts like something in particular.

The article also says there’s “no feminist porn community” but I’m not sure that’s entirely correct. Over the last year or two I’ve got to know a group of writers and filmmakers – Tristan Taormino, Audacia Ray, Violet Blue, Petra Joy, Erica Lust, Tony Comstock and even Chanelle Gallant – who are all striving to create their version of porn. We may not all agree on what that should be, but there is a lot of discussion and interaction happening between us. I think that could qualify as a community, as much as any other on the internet.

While I was away enjoying life a small debate erupted about porn, facials, blowjobs and feminism. It started because Petra Joy wrote this on her blog:

A woman receiving head, a woman fucking a guy with a strap-on, a guy tasting his own cum and also to feature female ejaculation – those techniques that show a woman in control might be “feminist porn”. If you want to show cum on a woman’s face that’s fine but don’t call it feminist.

Petra made the comment while discussing her appearance at the Berlin Film Festival in a seminar called Good Porn for Good Girls. Her fellow panelists, Audacia Ray and Erika Lust, weren’t so impressed with this. Audacia made this post on her blog, and Erika wrote a long, angry post in defence of blowjobs.

I was off bushwalking and guzzling wine at the time, so I didn’t make any serious posts about it. And I was tempted to just let it slide, figuring I’d missed the boat on it. But I feel the need to write a few things on the whole subject.

I’m a huge fan of Petra’s and I really support what she’s trying to do. I understand where she’s coming from with that comment, but I also understand why it caused such an extreme reaction. I copped something similar when I wrote I Hate The Money Shot several years ago. When it comes to feminism and porn, everyone has a different view, and it helps to lay down caveats at every stage.

I’ll say this: I still hate facial cumshots. I’m pretty sick of external cumshots. And the fact is that porn blowjobs bore the hell out of me.

This is a personal opinion and does not apply to all women. I don’t, however, believe I’m alone in thinking this, not by a long shot.

Facial cumshots always look fake and stupid to me. The usually involve the woman kneeling before the guy, her mouth open or smiling like a blowup Barbie doll. We only ever get to see the man’s cock and his hand while he jerks off. The cum goes on her face, in her hair, in her eye, and then she smiles and licks it all off like it’s manna from heaven, often smiling and looking directly into the camera.

I don’t think that is sexy. It just looks dumb.

Facial cumshots suck because:
1. We don’t get to see the guy’s face when he comes, which is always a sexy thing to see.
2. They’re often carefully staged, are disconnected from the sex and look fake.
3. They can be very easily interpreted as a degrading thing. Wait, my fellow rabid feminists! That’s not to say they always are, but within the context of a very misogynist porn industry where facials are the norm, and where it’s often assumed the viewer is a male who likes to see women in their place, the facial can be a sexist thing.
4. It’s always assumed that a facial will occur at the end of sex, there’s no discussion of it and no indication that either party wanted it to be that way. It just happens as though that’s the way everybody does it.

I’ll also restate my position that I hate the way the male orgasm (as engendered in the money shot or facial) is always the “final whistle” in porn. It’s considered to be the ultimate act, the most important thing in a whole scene. And often there’s no female orgasm whatsoever.

Imagine how ground breaking it would be if we got to see the woman come AFTER the guy? Even if that meant bringing in a vibrator. Sure, it would be just as set up as a standard facial but at least there’d be a bit of equality happening.

So, can a facial ever be “feminist”? My answer is yes. As always, context is everything.

There’s a scene in Candida Royalle’s Eyes of Desire when Chloe asks Tom Byron if she can watch him come. It’s one of the few “money shots” in Candida’s films but it works because we the viewer know that Chloe wanted to see it. And I think that’s how a facial can be feminist (and more enjoyable) – when the viewer knows that there’s consent and desire involved.

Audacia and Erika also point out that the intentions and ethics of the filmmaker make all the difference, I do agree with them there, but as a viewer I don’t think it’s enough to make me want to watch it. Let me hear the woman on screen say “Come on my face, I love that” and I’ll find the scenario a whole lot more believeable. I’m still not going to find it sexy, but that’s just personal taste.

And the other thing is this – blowjobs are boring! I’ve been reviewing so many porn movies lately and the one thing I’m guaranteed to fast forward is the blowjob scenes. Of which there are many.

Again, this is personal taste. I don’t doubt there are plenty of women who love watching blowjobs, but I’m not one of them. Give me clit licking any day.

I’ve been pondering why I find porn BJs to be dull. It may well be because I’m a woman and I want to see the woman pleasured, not the guy.

It may also be due to the excessive screentime given to blowjobs as compared to pussy licking. Sucking dick always seems to get more airtime in most mainstream porn. Look at the recently released “Oral themed” category nominations at the AVN awards and all but one of the films are about blowjobs.

Or it may be due to porn’s insistence of focusing only on the woman as she’s going down. From a female point of view, that’s not what’s hot about blowjobs. Fact is, when you’ve got a mouth full of cock you don’t look so great. What IS hot is knowing that you’ve got a guy right where you want him, squirming and under your control. And it’s hot to see his face as he gets lost in that pleasure. Porn steadfastly refuses to show the guy’s face.

I did enjoy watching Mr Marcus receive a blowjob in Tristan Taormino’s Chemistry, mainly because the camera stood back and showed us both Marcus and Dana. We could see how much Marcus was into the whole thing, and that was hot.

It doesn’t happen often.

So, is it ever reasonable to dictate what kind of sex acts are “feminist”? Well, no, because then you turn into Andrea Dworkin, and none of us want that.

It is reasonable, however, to think about the way mainstream porn gives priority to certain sex acts and the context in which they’re presented. And it’s OK to stand up and say “No, I don’t think those particular sex acts in that context is female-friendly or feminist.” Choice, consent and desire are what makes the difference and if I’m not seeing that, I will tend to think negatively about certain sex acts in porn.

It’s also OK to say “I want to make feminist porn and my vision of it does not entail certain sex acts or scenarios because I personally find them to be unsatisfactory or degrading.”

Feminist porn is a nebulous concept and it’s worth having a debate about what it is, what it means and what it should entail. We’ve all got different ideas about what we want to see but that’s a good thing because it means that there’s a diversity and energy involved.

And the important thing is that feminist porn – whatever that encompasses – gets out there and starts to overcome the stagnant, sexist, boring offerings that comprise the vast majority of the porn industry. Because that’s something on which we can all agree and strive for.

* Pic is from a site I made ages ago called Penis Karaoke. I had so many photos where it looked like the girls were singing into a dick, I had to make up some funny galleries.

* Update 3rd December: I missed this post when it originally came out, but it’s worth adding here. The Girl With A One Track Mind reveals a disturbing personal experience with a guy who was overly keen on facials. The comments are also worth reading.

This article in the Observer concludes with four quotes by “feminists who have rocked the boat.” The quotes included:

“In a patriarchal society all heterosexual intercourse is rape because women, as a group, are not strong enough to give meaningful consent” – Catherine MacKinnon, feminist author (attributed)

“When a woman reaches orgasm with a man she is only collaborating with the patriarchal system, eroticising her own oppression.” – Sheila Jeffreys, lesbian feminist

I read those and felt quite offended by them (even though, as it turns out, the first one was never actually uttered by McKinnon). I then started musing about how the anti-sex stance taken by many radical feminists resulted in feminism coming to equal man-hating in many young women’s eyes.

I think it’s fair to say that any woman who loves sex with men would feel offended by those sentiments. The quotes cast all women into the roles of victims without choice and all men into the role of violent aggressor. That’s not how most modern Western women see their lives, or their relationships with men.

I went looking for similar anti sex comments and found a bunch of them on this page – which is run by an aggreived father’s group – and here. Both sites are distinctly anti-feminist.

Now, given the sources, I can’t claim that these are authentic, but that’s not my point here. I wanted to gather them together as evidence of why so many people have an ingrained bias against the idea of feminism. These quotes exist in the public consciousness as prime examples of the what’s wrong with feminism.

These quotes are why so many women will say “I’m not a feminist, but…”.

“All men are rapists and that’s all they are” – Marilyn French, The Women’s Room

“I claim that rape exists any time sexual intercourse occurs when it has not been initiated by the woman, out of her own genuine affection and desire.” – Robin Morgan

“Heterosexual intercourse is the pure, formalized expression of contempt for women’s bodies.” – Andrea Dworkin

“And if the professional rapist is to be separated from the average dominant heterosexual [male], it may be mainly a quantitative difference.” – Susan Griffin, Rape: The All-American Crime

“The institution of sexual intercourse is anti-feminist” – Ti-Grace Atkinson, Amazon Odyssey (p. 86)

“The simple fact is that every woman must be willing to be identified as a lesbian to be fully feminist.” – National NOW Times, Jan.1988

“Men who are unjustly accused of rape can sometimes gain from the experience.” – Catherine Comin, Vassar College. Assistant Dean of Students.

“Satan-like, men possess women, making their wicked fantasies and desires women’s own. A woman who has sex with a man, therefore, does so against her will, ‘even if she does not feel forced.’” – Judith Levine

To end this post on a positive note, here’s a whole bunch of interesting feminist quotes that aren’t quite so radical or man-hating.

It includes this one:

“During the feminist revolution, the battle lines were again simple. It was easy to tell the enemy, he was the one with the penis. This is no longer strictly true. Some men are okay now. We’re allowed to like them again. We still have to keep them in line, of course, but we no longer have to shoot them on sight.” – Cynthia Heimel, Sex Tips for Girls, 1983

Pic is from Feminist Ezine.