A Feminist’s Stand for The Rights of Sex Workers
I am a survivor of domestic violence, a fierce advocate for ending gender-based violence, and a Board Member of the Marin County Coalition to End Human Trafficking (MCCEHT). Our primary role at MCCEHT is to raise awareness about forced labor, modern day slavery, and sex trafficking. We educate parents, local businesses, and the general public on the “red flags” of trafficking and the ways our community is both vulnerable and participating in trafficking here in Marin. I am particularly passionate about raising awareness of, and disrupting demand for, sex trafficking. With women and girls disproportionately affected by human trafficking, accounting for 99% of victims in the commercial sex industry, this is one of the extreme forms of gender-based violence (International Labour Organization, Global Estimates of Modern Day Slavery).
As part of our education and awareness presentations, we focus on specific social factors — including gender inequality, objectification of women and girls in media, and pornography — which normalize the sexualization and exploitation of women and girls. We also advocate for shutting down “dating” websites which are portals for traffickers to sell their victims. Opponents of closing these sites claim that there are sex workers who also use these sites for their business, and that by closing them down and stigmatizing sex work, we abolitionists put their lives and livelihoods at risk. Many anti-trafficking advocates believe that given other economic options, women would not choose to be sex workers — some do not even acknowledge that there is such a person as a “sex worker.”
In How We Decide, author Jonah Lehrer explores the nature of morality. In the chapter titled “The Moral Mind,” Lehrer examines the origins of our perceptions of morality — for example, did our evaluations of right and wrong come from legally written laws and religious rules, or do they come from our own instinctive ideas of what is right? Lehrer claims that we have an internal response, inherent in our humanity: “Morality can be a squishy, vague concept, and yet, at its simplest level, it’s nothing but a series of choices about how we treat other people” (169). He also reveals how our morality is wired in our brains, linking mirror neurons and our physiological capacity for empathy. Our neurobiology points to decisions being made from an emotional response more than a legalistic one: “When you are confronted with an ethical dilemma, the unconscious automatically generates an emotional reaction” (172). Although I find Leher’s writing on morality interesting and thought-provoking, it is also interesting that several of his books, including How We Decide, were recalled by the publisher after flaws in the material were discovered, including incorrect facts and plagiarized work. This also resulted in his cutting ties with several publications for whom he wrote columns. I wonder if he considered plagiarism or misusing facts to be a moral dilemma?
Another look at the role of empathy in decision-making is the episode “Our Town: Part Two” from This American Life. The podcast focuses on the city of Albertville, Alabama, a microcosm of what’s been unfolding across the U.S. (and internationally) in regard to immigration. The city’s population shifted from 98% white in 1990, to reach a quarter Latino twenty years later. As undocumented workers started to arrive, eventually by the thousands, residents clung to their preconceived ideas that immigration is harmful to the economy, dangerous to citizens, and detrimental to the wellbeing of Americans. As the result of an unconventional friendship, a caucasian council woman and a latino businessman, it’s revealed that through listening and empathy, one can change his or her mind. This story also exposes that once a judgment is formed, “evidence” is used to reinforce the judgment rather than used to illuminate alternative beliefs. Only through personal connection, listening to another’s story, or sharing experiences — activities that trigger mirror neurons — can one shift his or her previously strong-held views.
I recently experienced a shift in my own judgement, which reflects both the moral instinct and the idea of opening to an alternative point of view through empathy. I was at the United Nations for the Commission on the Status of Women, advocating for women’s human rights, when I was confronted by a woman who saw me as the “opposition” — blocking her rights and working against her freedom. “But I’m an advocate for the liberation of women?!,” I thought to myself. “Does she realize all that I do for women? For victims of gender-based violence? For survivors of trafficking?”
She then shared her story of providing for her son and how people treated her; how social workers threatened to take her son, even though he was not exposed to her work or colleagues. She talked about the financial freedom she had, her Master’s Degree, her paid off student loans, her home with her son. No previous idea of mine held up in the face of the facts of her life. She explained how criminalizing prostitution not only threatened her livelihood, but her safety too.
I realized that if I was a true feminist and advocate for women’s human rights, then I was fighting for freedom — freedom of choice, ownership over one’s body, and a life free of violence. If I was truly fighting for these rights, then there could be no breakdown of fighting for some women’s rights or some rights for women. It is sort of an all or nothing calling. Today I advocate for ALL women’s rights, including fighting for sex workers’ safety and their right to choose their form of economic empowerment.