Taboo, sex work and the humanising effect of sextech
Taboos come in many shapes and sizes. They can be society wide. Cultural. They can even be personal. But interestingly, while we know what a “taboo” is, very rarely do we discuss the topic. It is as if “taboos” are taboo. The mere fact of writing the word implies that we (or I) intend to take liberty with your beliefs or customs.
The labelling of something as “taboo” serves to take a word, an act or an experience out of the space of contest — out of conversation. And when it’s out of conversation, it becomes hidden — driven into a darker world, away from the scrutinising eye of the public.
Ever since I can remember, I have had a love affair with words. I would write them. Perform them. Hurl them onto a page as poetry. At times I felt like they flowed through — or were — me. But always I knew that words had a hold over life, death, liberty and desire — so had to be respected and understood not only as communication but as power.
Over the last few months, I have been diving deeper into a new world — and a new language. The space of sextech — where sexuality and technology intersect. And in terms of language, it feels like one of the most potentially explosive and contested spaces, but one which also reveals an astonishing humanity.
In the space of a few months, we’ve seen the amplification and global growth of the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, powered and energised by words. Or more specifically, by powerful, articulate women telling stories that were once considered taboo. This has, in turn, triggered mass protests, encouraged others to come forward with their own personally taboo stories, and revealed the hidden secrets of shameful, violent and criminal conduct of men exercising their privilege as though it conferred a right.
But powerful words are often — and usually — countered by power itself. Backed again, by words, each story, personality, individual or even tweet, triggers response. Each day there are thousands of words written — shedding light into the dark recesses of human behaviour — and to be honest, it’s confronting.
But in amongst all this conversation, there are a number of voices that struggle to be heard at the same level. They are the taboo of the taboo — sex workers and and adult film stars. As Jessica Drake explains, sex workers and adult film stars carry additional layers of prejudgement simply because of the career they work in — with all/any other life achievements lost in the shadows. Drake’s own experience and expertise is formidable:
I, along with many other folks within our industry, am very much a career woman. Not only am I a performer; I’m also a writer, director, producer, and sex educator. I’m still contracted to Wicked Pictures, the company that I was working for years ago, in Lake Tahoe, where this saga began. I own my name and trademark, which I license to other companies to receive residuals and royalties. I have traveled the world for my career that has so far spanned more than 17 years.
Am I not a woman of substance? I have worked with Habitat for Humanity for almost a decade. I volunteered on The Jimmy Carter Work Project in Haiti after the earthquake, not once but twice. I have climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. I formed Team Wicked for AIDS Walk LA, and so far we have raised $100,000 for HIV/AIDS research.
But it’s not just her expertise or life experience that counts. Drake, along with Stormy Daniels and Liara Roux, are vocally, poetically and powerfully voicing their protests in interviews, podcasts, articles and social media. They are paving the way for others to enter this conversation and holding the space so that additional voices can enter, participate and engage in topics that have for (as long as history) been only discussed outside of the public view.
Doing so takes tremendous courage and strength — for the powers of language respond with great force — and in a world of digital media and social amplification, this can take the shape of trolling, threats, cyber bullying and intense personal attack.
As Roux explains in a Vice article, the power of taboo extends from physical space to the virtual — silencing and “disappearing” people and places, faces, profiles and sites:
The general public isn’t actually interested in the safety of sex workers,” Roux said. “The goal is to make it so they don’t have to see it and don’t have to confront it. This happened on the streets of NYC, and it’s happening on the internet.”
But as these taboos are confronted — as they are named and find their way into other conversations — perhaps even “polite conversations”, there may be the chance to bring light and more humanity to these topics.
There is no doubt that these conversations can be confronting — we barely feel comfortable talking about our health — let alone our sexual health. And broader, and deeper topics, such as sensuality, intimacy, connection and yes, sex, often remain undiscussed. Bryony Cole, CEO of FutureOfSex.org constantly brings these topics into the light of public debate in the FutureOfSex Podcast and during conference keynotes and forums.
It is perhaps, in this unearthing of conversation where sextech can play a vital role — to help us mediate conversations that don’t make us less human, but more.
