Porn - Philosophy for Everyone: How to Think With Kink (4 page)

The Art of Dirty unit concerns the question whether porn has artistic merit. Porn and art share media: print, film, photography, painting, and so forth. Can porn be elevated to the status of fine art? Are artworks ever
also
pornographic, or is art necessarily non-pornographic? Christopher Bartel, Lawrence Howe, and David Rose address these questions, and others, in the scope of this section. Bartel argues that the distinction between what is pornographic and what is artistic is not a function of the work in question, but is given by a distinction in ways of valuing that thing. We can take an artistic interest in a piece, e.g., appreciating its formal qualities, or a pornographic interest in it, e.g., getting turned on by the content of the work. These attitudes, he argues, are mutually exclusive; one cannot take an artistic interest in a painting, say, while one takes a pornographic interest in it. Bartel also wonders whether it is possible to gain an artistic attitude for an artwork
via
having a pornographic interest in it, and concludes that this is impossible on the basis of the exclusivity of our interests. Howe, on the other hand, works to sharpen distinctions between fine art, erotica, and pornography, and considers whether the categories overlap. Howe argues that what shows or supports the distinction is the aesthetic attitude, i.e., contemplative distance, or disinterestedness in the object of one’s appreciation. Pornography does not allow us to enter the aesthetic attitude, partly due to its apparent lack of other aesthetic qualities; e.g., proportion, unity in diversity, and so on. Porn differs from erotica, on the other hand, in that erotica promotes a sympathetic relation between the viewer and represented objects, which is missing in porn.The distinction between erotica and fine art is harder to draw, he concedes, but he ultimately concludes that erotica is closer to fine art than to porn. David Rose, in the unit’s last essay, considers reasons generally given to treat pornographic works as different from other aesthetic objects. Rose argues that standard moral reasons, e.g., that porn is exploitative, coercive, harmful to women, and so on, are insufficient to ground legislation against porn because they neither identify a characteristic wrongness unique to porn nor ensure consensus. However, Rose argues that there is such a ground for legislation because proper artistic objects play a special role in the promotion of societal values, relationships, and a culture’s self-identity, whereas porn degrades them.

The next unit is about the interpenetration of technology and porn. Clearly, improvements in technology have opened new horizons for the porn industry; its product is easier than ever to obtain and use, is cheaper to produce and distribute via Internet sites, and digital interactivity expands rapidly. Roger T. Pipe, a porn critic, offers an insider’s perspective on the affects of this technological explosion. He takes us through the history of the contemporary adult film industry, from the raincoater days of XXX theatres to the current Internet era, and wonders whether or not these “advances” have been for the better. Matthew Brophy recognizes new moral problems emerging with innovative porn technologies, and prognosticates further issues as more advanced virtual realities arise. If porn becomes qualitatively indistinguishable from normal sex, and we can determine the precise characteristics of our ideal lovers with a click of a button, Brophy argues this will undermine traditional virtues requisite for human flourishing, and promote moral vice.

Our final unit, Kink, takes up special issues in “alternative” or “fringe” porn.With McKittrick’s essay being the sole exception, our earlier essays have dealt with “mainstream” porn. Defining mainstream porn is difficult, but I think the standard form is the sort of porn that is found on most websites and adult videos; i.e., heterosexual porn, usually with some oral sex and a few positions thrown in for spice, culminating in “the money shot.” Alternative or fringe porn deviates from that model.

The first essay in this section, by Chad Parkhill, investigates the seeming oddity of heterosexual men enjoying girl-girl pornography; since male sexuality is excluded in lesbian porn, why do men find it so attractive? Appealing to Lacanian psychoanalysis, Parkhill distinguishes between kinds of pleasure men can have in watching lesbian porn,
plaisir
and
jouissance
, arguing that the latter involves an “ego shattering” pleasure that precludes male “intrusion.” For that reason, he concludes that
jouissance
is the morally preferable kind of pleasure for men to feel when watching girl-girl porn. In the next essay, Ummni Khan argues against the rough legal treatment of sadomasochistic porn. Khan argues that in the case of SM porn, legal systems have systematically ignored the role of consent in mitigating “violence” in SM contexts, and as a result have propagated violence against the SM community.The violence comes in three forms: physical, phenomenological, and epistemic. Physical violence consists in disproportionate legal punishments and imprisonment in violation of the principle of proportionality of punishment. Phenomenological violence consists in enforcing a stipulated “true” sexuality that is likely not consonant with an individual’s experiences, and epistemic violence restricts the freedom of individuals on the basis of judgments that are false or obscure, or lacking in sufficient justification.Thus, governments
systematically wrong
those who are into SM porn. The final essay in this section, and indeed, the anthology itself, is an interview with the Fabulous Mz. Berlin. Berlin is a popular dominatrix who acts in, directs, and produces BDSM films. Additionally, she works as an actress in “vanilla” XXX. In the interview, Berlin answers questions about the porn industry in general, as well as her experiences as a dominatrix. She discusses the nature of informed consent, the role that concept plays in determining acceptable contexts for filming dirty movies, the nature of torture, fluid gender roles, and various other exciting topics. Her thoughts are fittingly the last – ruminations from an educated woman both on the inside and at the boundaries of the porn industry.

In closing, I hope that you enjoy this volume as much as I enjoyed working on it. I also hope that it helps you think philosophically about porn. Enjoy!

PART I

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION! SUNDRY SEXY THOUGHTS

DYLAN RYDER AND DAVE MONROE

CHAPTER 1

THE JIZZ BIZ AND QUALITY OF LIFE

Dylan Ryder, co-author of this essay, is a contemporary porn star. Her job involves having sex with various men and women, and having that sex recorded for the voyeuristic enjoyment of others. It goes without saying that this job is unlike most of ours; we spend time in offices daydreaming at water coolers, slaving away on factory floors, cooking and serving food, teaching classes, or at sundry other occupations. She gets paid to have sex on camera, to bare what most of us would not dare – our naked bodies and sexual activities. Dylan’s job is not a “normal” occupation, at least in the sense that it is unusual. But what do you think of when you think about
the life
a porn star leads? Some of you may romanticize about the sexual pleasure they seem to enjoy, or perhaps think that the “rock star” lifestyle many porn stars, like Jenna Jameson, lead is attractive and fun. Being a porn star holds a taboo allure, one might think, a way of life that is more “exciting,” and better than, the life one currently lives. Dylan and Dave suspect that those beliefs are held by a small minority. More likely, the majority opinion is that the life of a porn star is
worse
than average.

It seems that the pre-reflective, common-sense opinion about a porn star’s quality of life holds that because (as the arguments usually go) porn stars are objectified, coerced, degraded, or exploited, their lives must be
worse off
than the lives of “normal people.” Don’t movies like
Boogie Nights
show us that “something must be wrong or missing” in someone’s life that drives one into the porn business, and that once in things only get worse? Most people believe that porn professionals are drug addicts, have been sexually abused in their present or past, or are coerced or forced into the business by someone else, usually an abusive pimp. After all, what sort of decent, self-respecting person would have sex on camera – for money?

Our essay explores the prudential question of whether a porn actor’s life is necessarily better or worse off by virtue of his or her profession. The issue, we take it, is about one’s individual welfare, or the
quality
of one’s individual life.That is, one might say, how “well” or “ill” one’s life is going.We will call this “prudential” value: the value of one’s own life to oneself. So, in short, the claim for which we will argue is that being involved in porn does not necessarily interfere with one’s having a prudentially “good life.”

Our arguments will attempt to demonstrate that popular opinion is mistaken; even if it is true that the
porn business
is an immoral institution, which we do not believe it is, it does not follow that the individual porn actor’s life is worse off. In defense of our claim, we will discuss what we take to be the “common-sense” popular opinion sketched above, elaborate what we take to be mistaken assumptions behind it, and argue against them.We will also distinguish between various ways of valuing a human life, and suggest that part of the impetus for the common-sense view rests on confusing a distinction between the “moral” quality of life and prudential quality of life, aka “wellbeing” or “welfare.”
¹
We will argue in favor of this distinction in an effort to show that there is no necessary connection between moral or immoral things happening to a person and the quality of that person’s life. Furthermore, we will consider potential objections to our conclusion, including the classic “Happy Slave” thought experiment that seems to give reason to reject our claims. In the end, we do not think these objections succeed. Being a porn star does not necessarily impede the prudential value of one’s life.

Eeew! Sucks to be a Porn Star!

Before we get into a discussion of our rejection of popular opinion, we ought to outline, in a little more detail, just what that is. Again, we take the main thesis to be the belief that something must be wrong in a porn star’s life if they are making porn, and that the wrongness perpetuated by the porn industry must affect the individual welfare of that porn star. For instance, a defender of the popular opinion may point out that it is not “normal” to have sex for money and record it for others’ enjoyment; porn actors display an abnormal level of exhibitionism, and that must reveal some kind of psychological defect, more compelling addiction, or coercion.There are voids in that person’s life, in other words, that she or he mistakenly turns to porn to fill. Furthermore, one may say, it is not normal to place so little “value” on sexual activity, and that may indicate a history or current track record of sexual abuse. On the basis of this thinking, getting into the porn business seems to show that there is
already
some diminution of welfare that drives one into the business.Thereafter, it may appear, things get worse.

Popular opinion also sees the porn industry as propagating poor quality of life.Those who produce porn films are guilty of coercing performers into doing things they may not be comfortable with, degrading them, exploiting their damaged circumstances (e.g., taking advantage of the fact that a porn star may have a drug habit to support), and objectifying them as a matter of course; that is, treating them as “things” rather than persons. Given that they are victims of, or complicit in, so much “wrongdoing,” we must conclude that the lives of porn stars are worse off than most of ours.

We believe that the popularity and plausibility of this opinion rests on several assumptions. First, there is the assumption that departing from “normal” sexual behavior represents a kind of character defect. Second, there is an assumption that sex acts have a special significance that the porn actor does not recognize or ignores due to some interfering factor. Third, and most significant, is the assumption that there is a necessary connection between morality and welfare. One could attribute these assumptions to certain religious-based views about the significance of sexual activity and definitions stipulating “normal” sexual behavior. Undoubtedly, many who hold the popular opinion accept these assumptions on the basis of their religious backgrounds. However, that may not be true, especially with respect to the belief that moral quality of life is essential to one’s welfare.
²
Aristotle defends this view, telling us that virtue is a necessary condition for
eudaemonia
, or “faring well.”That is, if we are not virtuous, we have no hope of a satisfying, good life. Of course, we reject this view and its assumptions, so we will turn now to our arguments against them.

Get Out Of My Bed!

It is manifestly false that porn stars are scummy people universally lacking in character, have drug problems, were sexually abused, have bad family lives, have mental defects, or any of the panoply of assumed flaws. Dylan, for example, has spent a great deal of time doing non-profit work for charities that “normal” people tend to praise; in fact, she was a substance abuse counselor for prison inmates preparing for their release. She has lived a regular life in which she competed in sports, was free from sexual assault, and so forth. She currently attends college, and has a great relationship with her parents and siblings. There are some, like Dylan, who simply like the business, embrace their sexuality, and relish putting it on display for the enjoyment of others. No doubt there are some who have the aforementioned issues, but the assumption that porn performers must be somehow defective to get into the business is false.

Does departing from “normal” sexual behavior represent some kind of character defect? This assumption is problematic. There are certainly clear cases in which one departs too radically from sexual norms, such as molesting children.The moral issue is clear – it involves victimizing and exploiting people who are powerless to defend themselves and cannot give informed consent.
³
But what about cases that involve fully developed adults making informed choices to act on certain non-standard sexual preferences? Such individuals exercise their autonomy in a way that does not involve actively harming others. Does this represent a kind of “character defect”? It may, if we understand “character” in this context as conforming to some Pauline standard of sexual morality, or believe that a specific kind of sex life contributes to human flourishing, e.g., monogamy. If that were actually true, then perhaps there is some substance to this assumption and our sexuality assumes a special significance.

Whether or not this is true, however, is a matter of debate. It is not our purpose here to settle this matter entirely, so we will only pause to throw doubt on the assumption that “normal” sexual mores are justified or that they have any special connection to the prudential value of our lives. In the absence of some purpose-driven worldview, it is difficult to elaborate why sex ought to have the significance generally attached to it. If one does not go in for that sort of thing, then there’s little reason, outside of mere social convention, to believe that there is a well-defined “sexual normality.” What if sexual norms are just a matter of social convention?

Insisting that porn stars should follow social norms
because
they are social norms is not justified. After all, there are better and worse social norms and practices, and we ought to give some defense of why a particular set of norms and practices is acceptable. That is part of the point at issue here, so to say that porn stars are “abnormal” because they do not practice monogamy, are exhibitionists, and get paid for “doing it” is no help. The fact that most people do not act like porn stars in bed does not, by itself, mean that what the porn stars are doing is wrong.That is not to say that we cannot place limits on acceptable sexual behavior, as we have suggested above. Informed consent and lack of harm seem to place those limits nicely. But those limits do not depend on “what most people do.”

Even if there is some moral significance to “normal” sex, and some morally right way to do it, that does not establish a necessary connection to our wellbeing. It may be true that being in “normal” sexual relationships makes available to us prudential goods that we might otherwise not realize. However, a connection between those further goods, such as constant companionship, and our welfare would require demonstration, and the connection is likely to be contingent or accidental at best. Showing a relationship may be possible, but those prudential goods would have to be proven
better
than the goods provided by “abnormal” practices, and that is a tall order. However, there is reason to be dubious of the claim that sex plays a special role in wellbeing to begin with. There are some, e.g., priests and clerics of various religions, who
abstain
from any sort of sexual activity, and it would be presumptuous of us to assume that they are necessarily worse off for it.

What about the Aristotelian claim that virtue is a necessary condition for human flourishing? Will being morally good climax in my own wellbeing, or at least make wellbeing possible? Putting it bluntly, no. Many philosophers have noted that one can conceive of a perfectly
immoral
person enjoying personal welfare in spite of his wickedness; doing so does not result in contradiction, which means such a case is logically possible. Thus, being virtuous is not necessary for our personal welfare. What of other moral theories? Is
acting
morally a condition of the good life? Again, it does not seem so. Utilitarianism’s value maximizing principle leaves open the possibility, despite the fact that the valued end is both morally and prudentially valuable, that doing the “right thing” would force us to sacrifice our own welfare for that of others. Kant’s deontology severs clean the connection between welfare and ethics; we are obligated to follow morality’s principles
regardless
of how it affects the quality of our lives. Taking a cue from the utilitarians and Kant, then, we should understand morality as setting limits on our quality of life, or at least the ways in which we are allowed to pursue it. However, being moral is not a
condition
for our wellbeing, and it is perfectly conceivable that a villain could enjoy as much prudential quality of life as the rest of us.Thus, even if those working in the porn industry are
doing
something immoral, or have tarnished characters, it does not follow that they are “worse off” from the perspective of their own welfare. Neither does it follow that having immoral things happen to us necessarily inhibits our welfare. To see why the latter is true, we need to sharpen the distinction between moral and prudential value.