The traditional religious argument against prostitution is that sex is powerful and important and, if not earth shattering, then potentially society-disrupting. For this reason sexuality must be contained. Handmaids, slaves and family members may or may not be placed in this container, but the containment itself is essential. The self-employed prostitute therefore creates a chink in the moral armour of society and threatens its very existence.
And at the other end of the political spectrum, there is the feminist anti-capitalist definition of prostitution. This exchange of capital for use of the female body exemplifies the capitalist society’s interpretation of relationships between men and women in general. Engels condemned prostitution, but argued in The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State that the position of the wife only “differs from the ordinary courtesan in that she does not let out her body on piece-work as a wage worker, but sells it once and for all into slavery”.
Compare these political analyses to the positions of the day. Those against the sex trade simply present one heart-wrenching story after another about the pain this work can cause. And those in favour pen tales of plucky, empowered creatures exploring their sexuality through their 9-5.
And prostitution isn’t seen to be represented by these individuals — it is instead considered to be these experiences. The social meaning is defined as these personal narratives multiplied by the number of prostitutes. The politicised arguments of old are gone, subsumed by an array of personal memoirs.
And into this arena sidled Belle de Jour—aka Dr Brooke Magnanti, cancer specialist.
This slick, attractive, highly educated and uninhibited woman fucked men, enjoyed it, got paid, didn’t care. And, after six years in anonymity, she went public, handing her story to The Sunday Times, posing for a suitably highbrow erotic photoshoot, standing by every word she’d written, and responding, no, she hadn’t been abused as a child, and no, she didn’t regret or feel exploited by her work as a prostitute.
But since an individual’s experience now carries the weight of a truth, this story represented the argument that all prostitutes are middle-class, heroin-free, un-battered and alive. So, predictably, those opposed to the sex trade were obliged to question the authenticity of Belle’s life story. And they did.
Many argued she was a fiction writer, a man, or both, and the Observer described her blog as “badly executed soft porn”. And her responding that “you can’t say I’m not real, and that my experience isn’t real, because here I am” was entirely ignored.
Some on the left posited that she may have emotional problems she isn’t aware of. The Daily Mail opted for salaciously examining her father’s history as a punter, utilising the language of child abuse in speculations about the ‘destruction of her innocence’. Many others launched accusations of irresponsibility, bringing the corpses of prostitutes who’d died with needles in their arms or pimps’ boots in their faces, and laying them at Magnanti’s door.
Thomas Sutcliffe, in The Independent, at least paid attention, but failed to reject this uber personalised assessment process, pondering that his understanding of prostitution had been ‘complicated’ by the fact that Magnanti is educated, middle-class and free from a crack cocaine habit.
In the contemporary discussion of prostitution, the meaning of the sex trade comprises the experience of being a prostitute, the reasons for doing it, the effects it has on you. Consequently, these intensely personal experiences are not considered private—they are instead used as sources in debates about legislation. The Daily Mail finds women destroyed and humiliated by the sex trade; and The Guardian responds with women who got paid less for cleaning hotel rooms. This apolitical and highly individualised train of thought quickly reaches an intellectual dead-end, leaving us no closer to even understanding the widespread opposition to prostitution, never mind assessing the law.
Despite being positioned at opposite ends of the political spectrum, the religious and Marxist interpretations of prostitution share the fundamental characteristic of being political and social: analysing the commodification of sex from within its social context. The meaning of prostitution (as opposed to ‘being a prostitute’) is therefore in what it means for, and says about, society.
The sex trade is widely condemned for the repugnant way in which many of its working-class workers are treated. Magnanti, as an educated and middle-class woman, earned more money, saw punters who were less likely to be violent, and had the back-up of an agency that represented her as a ‘high class’ escort—and this is the same class conflict apparent in every industry in our society. Self-evidently, an industry treating its working-class workers badly is not justification for the abolition of the industry altogether. So it is disingenuous to talk as if this were true of prostitution.
Equally, many women do find themselves ‘emotionally scarred’ by their work as prostitutes. But there are a whole host of actions we can carry out that have painful, humiliating and degrading results for somebody else, and yet we still consider them personal—agreeing that the state has no business legislating for or against them. (Repeatedly cheating on a pregnant girlfriend is an example.) Why is prostitution so terrible that we don’t even have the right to do it to ourselves?
The underlying cause of the widespread distaste for the sex industry is not necessarily fair or right or rational. It may well be mere prudishness; it might be that sex really is sacred; or it could be that we don’t want ‘the market’ anywhere near the things we consider precious. Whatever the truth, the highly individuated arguments—both in favour and against—are not moving this discussion forward.
A real, politicised debate about prostitution is now well overdue, and we could do far worse than starting with a recognition of some basic facts: the causes of prostitution are social, the criminalisation of sex between consenting adults is political, and society is far more than a collection of individuals and their feelings.
Or we could admit that putting a market price on an entire gender’s sexuality is a really really bad idea, for an array of reasons. But the pro side does not want people thinking that this is about anything other than libertines vs. the prudes in society. Kind of like the writer just did again with this article. In answer to your question about why prostitution is so terrible? Because you do not have the right to sell for personal profit what other people own. Because ALL women share the consequences when vaginas become commodities. They have no choice to exclude themselves from the results of others’ choices.
But by all means, please continue to simplify the issue with damning-sounding but benign statements: that opposers make this a “moral” issue, and criminalizing the sale of sex between consenting adults is “political.” Everything’s political, so what was your point?
BTW your own biases on the issue are very obvious.
@Bm,
My point is that we’re letting this issue slide (and organisations like the ACPO take control) because neither side is making enough of its arguments in social terms — and I would include morality and politics in that definition of ‘social’.
I believe that prostitution should be decriminalised because bodily autonomy is an essential human right and laws against sex work infringe upon that right. I disagree that sex work makes ‘vaginas into commodities’ or places a “market price on an entire gender’s sexuality” because women’s sexuality is not a homogeneous thing. My sexuality belongs to me, yours to you, and a female sex worker’s to her — only a misogynist would think that one woman’s decision reflected the will or value of all vagina-owners. We aren’t a hive mind, and there is absolutely no benefit in colluding with the argument that we are.
Katherine, you oversimplify the issue. Vastly. Women-all women- are targets for the consequences when our sexuality becomes something bought for sexual convenience. I know that may be an uncomfortable idea, which explains why people try to so neatly divide sex workers from those who choose not to rent their bodies. All are women (yes, prostitutes are statistically women.) and we share the same sexuality, whether or not that is inconvenient to your ideals about the world. And, trying to tie me to misogyny is a very cheap shot. I really hope you can put aside the desperate measures. It is imperative to do so, if you want an honest discussion, as you say you do.
Ok, I see now that you require a bit more explanation- yes, women are not all the same, they all have different lives, different preferences. In the market, however, this complexity is irrelevant. On the market you are selling a product. In the market, that product is generalized. Which shows why prostitution displays a particularly unhealthy attitude about sex. Because on the market, women’s sexuality becomes Sex. You are not buying Elisha’s sex, you are not buying sex from Trish who plays the violin, you are buying access to a woman. All you need do is look at popular escort sites– those commanding high prices are ultra feminine, young. The johns know the bios and names are fake. So, you are correct that sexuality itself is not homogeneous, you are incorrect when it comes to the homogeneous nature of sex in the context of prostitution.
The neat divide between sex workers and non sex workers is the same one that separates people inside and outside of every other industry. The argument that all women are ‘targets for the consequences’ of other women’s choices rests on an understanding of women as a homogeneous group: it elevates their gender over their humanity, which is sexist.
‘Our sexuality’ isn’t rented in prostitution because ‘we’ don’t share one. The idea that we do isn’t uncomfortable, it’s nonsensical. What would it consist of? Human sexuality is primarily of the mind, so how could ‘female sexuality’ be conflated with ‘access to a woman’?
You’re right that the complexity of people’s individual thoughts, feelings, desires and fantasies (their sexuality) is irrelevant to the market. Their sexuality is irrelevant because it isn’t being sold. Sex work consists solely of performing sexual acts for money.
Laws prohibiting prostitution deny people the right to make choices about their own bodies. On those grounds alone, they need to be scrapped. That doesn’t preclude the possibility of a moral objection to prostitution — in the same way that being pro-choice doesn’t mean being pro-abortion — it just asserts the importance of people’s right to bodily autonomy.
Prostitution elevates women’s sexuality over their humanity. Which is sexist. Are you really going to try to say that prostitution is not sexist?
And as I’ve said, maybe you misinterpreted: there is NO divide between sex workers and other women. We are all women. As prostitution like any other product panders to the lowest common denominator ( which is what any product must do to be the most profitable) prostitution pares women’s sexuality down to the most basic characteristics of feminine sexuality. These are the characteristics all women share.
And I see that you agree with me that an individual’s sexuality, just like any other individual characteristic, is not being sold. Sex is being sold, which as I’ve said, is the ultra-feminine, most base aspects of feminine sexuality that most women share. (and yes this does tend to exclude butch women, who by and large are not involved in selling sex to men.)
Also Katherine, it is-again- oversimplifying the issue to say that laws should be scrapped because they, in your mind, only have to do with bodily autonomy. Prostitution laws do not. But even so, it is not ss black and white as you are trying to make it. society absolutely has a right to not allow people to put psychoactive drugs into their bodies. If what someone does has a harmful effect on greater society, then laws should be enforced. It is the cost of living in civilization.
The problem with non-sex workers discussing sex work issues is how offensive it is to have people talk about our industry as if they know what it’s about from reading a few news articles or memoirs. Unless you’ve done the work, you really have no idea of what it is about…truly. Sex, money, and power are key factors, for sure, but the industry is more complex that that, much more complex. There is, most certainly, a polarity of experiences that are often what is represented and argued about, from how many are truly exploited/harmed by sex work, to how believable it could be that someone might choose the work, and enjoy it. As a veteran sex worker of nearly 20 years, I can tell you that, while both those ends of the spectrum are valid and true, what is more prevalent of the sex work experience is what is in between. And in that gray middle area is complexities that are only understood when one stops judging the reasons and just shuts up and listens.
If you want to understand sex work, listen more and write less. Let those that do or have done the work speak for themselves. No matter how much you read, you will never really understand…no matter how much you want to. Sex work should not be a political issue any more then abortion should…but they both are. At the end of the day, those that want to legislate morality call the shots, ignoring how those laws contribute to the exploitation and harm that happens within our industry.
And just FYI-men sell sex also (as well as trans persons). Funny how no one has any blog posts about men’s involvement, or what that means to their gender when they use their body for sexual labor…guess it’s ok for them. Only us women that don’t know what we are really getting ourselves in to and need protecting…
Megan, you agree that sex work is (unfortunately) a political issue, but then say that only those who work in it can discuss it as a political issue. In fact, you think it’s ‘offensive’ for anyone outside of sex work to discuss it. But then this would surely apply to every occupation and experience. So thankfully it doesn’t. The main reason being that direct, subjective experience doesn’t necessarily lead to political understanding of anything (although it may help). So even though most of us have never bought or sold sex we can still discuss prostitution, just as we can discuss the car industry even if we don’t drive. Plus, if we can only understand things we’ve experienced ourselves, there’s no point in the rest of us even listening to the experiences of sex workers — as you urge — as we would still never understand them — as you claim.
But good point in your last paragraph.
Hi Paul
Allow me to clarify: I think it’s fine for non-sex workers to discuss the topic, as long as they respect that WE are the experts, not those that have never experienced the work. We all should have a say in the politics of our respective regions, but when politics ignore the complexities of the industry and assume of understanding the issue because of having read a few books or articles on the matter, or perhaps having a friend or two that has stripped or been an escort, it becomes problematic, and does not address the true needs of the industry, or how it fits in to society at large.
I understand the impulse to think one can empathize or understand some parts of the work through their own experiences, but in this instance that is not the case. The compounded complexities of the industry, the stigma, the physical/psychological requirements, the lifestyle, the secrecy of both workers and consumers…is not like most other industries. People trying to “relate” sometimes ends up being that person’s projections of their own life, not the life of a sex worker, and therefore lacking a true understanding of the work (even though they may have convinced themselves the connection is true and real to validate their viewpoint), the persons doing the work, or the reasons behind it. When you then have non-sexworkers try and discredit workers own stories, as is done here (somewhat passively) by posting the rumors and criticisms of the writings of Dr. Magnanti, this is a perfect example of how/why those that have never done the work should take a seat.
I respect people expressing their views about sex work or the industry, but yes am offended when those that have never done the work try and talk about what it is, or how workers feel about it. And I think that’s reasonable…
I can see why Megan gets exasperated if this subject is endlessly discussed in terms that seem either removed from, or a caricature of, her experiences. It must certainly seem condescending when people frequently claim to represent your interests, if you don’t think they’ve construed those interests properly.
But I’m also inclined to agree with Paul that while being closely involved with the subject under discussion gives you a perspective that should be taken into account, that doesn’t mean your perspective gets to trump all other perspectives. Aside from anything else, how a person’s firsthand experience is interpreted and appropriated by others will itself depend on what those others bring to the table, that experience will never be an unmediated last word on the matter.
In her second comment above, Megan suggests that there are particular aspects of sex work – the secrecy, the stigma, etc – that make it different from those aspects of human experience that lend themselves to collective understanding that circulates freely between people. For myself, I’m wary of the idea that there are any areas of life that can’t be made tractable for the purposes of universal understanding.
That said, I do think that sex full stop – before you even get to the commodification of it – is difficult to discuss publicly, because (changing social trends notwithstanding) there seems to remain a broad consenus that there is something intrinsically private about it. The fact that this privacy can be and is transgressed in a multitude of ways only reinforces the fact of its existence, because if it didn’t exist, then no transgression would be perceived and sex work would indeed be more analogous to mainstream, non-stigmatised industries.
Any of us who have liberal/libertarian type politics and a fairly robust view of people (which excludes the likes of BMW in the comments above) can say ‘There should be no prohibition on people’s consensual sexual activities, including the buying and selling of sex’. In a way, that’s the easy part.
What comes next is more difficult – questions like ‘In the best of all possible worlds, would sexual activities take the form they do?’ and ‘Is it ideal that sex is bought and sold?’. Those are difficult questions to address without being prurient, without being presumptuous about the lives and views of sex workers like Megan, and without revealing more about one’s own hangups or ideal self-image than about the subject under discussion.
But difficult doesn’t mean impossible, and I think Katherine’s call for a proper political discussion of prostitution is well expressed and worth considering. Megan says ‘if you want to understand sex work, listen more and write less’. I think that’s the wrong counterposition, I think we should all listen more and write more.
Megan, women by far outnumber men in prostitution. That is why it is legitimate to focus on the effects prostitution has on women and feminine sexuality in the culture.
Sandy, “the likes of BMW?”. Not sure what you are getting at, but that person was being respectful and thought-provoking.
Mj78, sorry if I seemed dismissive of BMW. What I was getting at is this.
BMW says above: ‘If what someone does has a harmful effect on greater society, then laws should be enforced. It is the cost of living in civilization.’ I don’t agree with this, at least not in relation to what BMW is talking about, namely sex work and drug use. What I was saying is that establishing whether you do or don’t agree with that central part of BMW’s stance is one thing, but that there are other arguments to be thrashed out even among those who don’t agree with BMW’s stance, and in some ways those other arguments are the more difficul ones to have.
I agree that what BMW says is ‘thought-provoking’ and worth considering, in relation to whether prostitution and other sex work represent and/or cause regrettable social trends. But the idea that legislating to prohibit these things is a valid thing to do is a non-starter for me, quite regardless of whether or not these things are regrettable. That’s because I proceed from the assumption that autonomy and freedom are very important. As Katherine says above, proceeding from this assumption this ‘doesn’t preclude the possibility of a moral objection’.
Mj78
Well women are certainly the most visible, but does that mean they “far outweigh” other gender identities involved in selling sex? Considering accurate numbers are hard to come by, and may vary depending upon location and other factors, statements making vague generalizations about who participates (or other things like how many are “emotionally damaged” as stated in the original piece) are dangerous IMO. What is more true is that the majority of sex workers keep to themselves and don’t come forward to talk about their experiences, making it difficult to know much of anything about the numbers, or how many enjoy, or feel harmed by, the work…let alone to be counted for accurate demographics.
Regardless of that, I still don’t buy that only talking about the work from one gender standpoint as acceptable. Are you suggesting we should ignore the experiences of women in male-dominated fields because men might “far outweigh” the number of women in that field?
Sandy (and Paul), by no means should my participation in this conversation indicate that my opinion on the matter trumps all others. While I have worked in a variety of outlets and experiences, my experiences are not all sex work experiences…not by far… I try to learn about others perspectives so that I can more accurately convey those in my public speaking, but when I don’t know the answer to something, I don’t try and guess or represent my story as all sex workers stories. I stand behind my point that discussions about what sex work is about should be left to those of us that engage, or have engaged, in it.
Sandy, I do agree that the larger issue of “sex” is difficult for people to discuss openly and honestly, making the issue of selling sex an even more difficult one to understand and navigate as a society. But it is the assumption non-sex workers make about it being only about the sex, in superficial terms, that also limits those conversations. The question of “Is it ideal that sex be bought and sold?” is, I think, difficult for one to weigh in on accurately if one has never been in a position to want/need to buy or sell sexual companionship.
Regards,
Megan
Thank you, Sandy. I’d just like to add that autonomy kind of goes the other direction also, as I think BMW was saying. One person or a group of people using ultimate freedom will affect the autonomy of others, there’s just no way of getting around that. Experiences like BMW relates tend to be pushed aside, as I think Megan’s response sort of illustrates: that sex workers are the “experts” here, and non-sex workers who criticise do not know what they’re talking about because their experiences aren’t those of sex workers. But the issue here is that people are affected by industries.
Looking at the middle ground and compromise are usually the best answers, but what would compromise look like here? I think that is the real difficulty when it comes to prostitution.
“Are you suggesting we should ignore the experiences of women in male-dominated fields because men might “far outweigh” the number of women in that field?”
Well, the issue here is the nature of the product being sold. Prostitution, at least in image if not by actual numbers, is mainly fueled by a demand for sexual services from women. (While we don’t have numbers, we have public representation in the form of escort sites, Las Vegas ranches, back page ads…)
That has a far different impact than, say, the issues around women in the mining industry. It’s not making one more inportant than the other, it just makes for different issues.
I don’t think anyone discounts the experiences of men, it’s just that we tend to focus on the predominant issue at any given time.
Megan
Why would it be difficult for someone to weigh in on the question of “Is it ideal that sex be bought and sold?”? This highlights exactly the point I was making that subjective experience does not equate with political understanding. The question you pose is a moral and political one. Being in the sex trade does not give you an advantage in discussing it as a moral and political issue. If you asked a question such as “What does it feel like to be a prostitute?”, far enough – everyone else can only guess. But it seems like you’re not only trying to make the sex industry into it’s own sealed off world incomprehensible to anyone outside it, you’re also looking to take ownership of all questions related to sex in wider society.
Paul
So Megan- according to your logic, no one but bankers would have the right to inquire into and criticize the banking industry.
The original article’s premise was that, rather than discussing prostitution in a dispassionate and rational way, those involved in the current discussion (both for and against) simply project their own narrow viewpoints insisting that participants are either poor downtrodden victims or canny libidinous entrepreneurs. The point of the article was that neither of these views either take into account the social standing of the people involved or oppose the notion that the state should have a right to infringe upon individual autonomy. The examples used were presented to expose how one-sided the discussion has become.
What were the initial responses to the article? Predictably:
a) that women sex workers are not only degraded victims but that anyone disagreeing with this assertion is ‘pro-prostitution’ and, in a bizarre twist, that women who trade sex acts for cash are degrading the whole of woman-kind since, apparently, the ‘sale’ of one vagina is the ‘sale’ of all vaginas;
and b) that anyone commenting on sex work issues without having worked in the trade themselves is being offensive, as it’s impossible to discuss the relation of sex work to social, moral and political life without having been directly involved.
None of the initial responders appear to have read the article. They merely saw the word ‘prostitution’ and waded in with their own assertions.
A political analysis of ‘sex work’ and prostitution has to take on board facets such as the social and economic role or position of the participants; the mechanics of the trade; any individual’s potential personal, social and moral view of sex; and the state and legislature’s view of sex work.
Until (and probably including) now, women have been denied social and economic equality. Prostitution, at least in the modern era, represents an attempt by women to overcome this disadvantage by selling something that can give them a measure of economic independence. However, the sale of sex in the abstract and the necessity of women selling it are separate things. The manner in which they are able to sell it also depends on, as much as anything, their social background.
Contrary to certain responses, the ability to weigh up the social and political pros and cons of sex work do not lie with those workers alone. I’ve personally known street walkers, women with private clients, porn actresses and chat line workers, and their views on the political and moral ramifications of what they do vary from socially liberal to entirely reactionary. Trying to piece together a coherent viewpoint from their experiences would be impossible.
As a contributor pointed out above, there is a broad public consensus that the commodification of sex is bad because it is a transgression of something deeply personal. This is one compelling reason why there is a need for a clarification on the right of people to sell sex if they so desire. When the boundaries between public license and personal moral stricture are blurred, it’s harder to distinguish the public from the personal and argue for a solution that benefits all.
There is a constant struggle, particularly in the West, to prevent the state from infringing personal liberty. While this is becoming more and more obvious to those of us who value that liberty, it seems that those with a specific axe to grind don’t really care whose rights they trample in order to bring about their desired goal.
So please can the discussion of this issue begin with what was argued in the original post, and not with a straw man version of whatever view commentators would most like to disagree with?
MJ78-not sure if you are familiar with the John Jay study of teen prostitutes in NYC, 48% of underage prostitutes were boys/young men. Just FYI… http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/2011-11-03/news/new-research-demolishes-the-stereotype-of-the-underage-sex-worker/
The issues of accurate numbers, not just perception, DO count. Again, the W4M trade is the most visible, but making assumptions about gender demographics based on visibility alone (or any other perspective of sex worker’s experiences) leaves out important input about the industry as a whole.
As a protected and clandestine industry, there is much that is not visible, even to those of us that have worked within the trade. Believe me, I have had to tell myself to shut up and just listen sometimes myself…
Cheers,
xoM
Paul-I can see how I might be coming across like I am sealing off the world of sex work by some of what I say. And it’s tricky, because I absolutely DO want greater understanding of the industry, and the diverse perspectives found in it, but I also think it’s very difficult to really know for certain how some things feel unless you’ve been there, done that…especially in the sex trade. Some things in life are easier to make those connections on, but to be able to know and take in to account so much diverse perspectives and be able to connect with it ALL…well, it’s more challenging for those that have never done the work IMO. I don’t want to close anyone off, but I do want people to respect that there are some things that you will never be able to understand about sex work without having actually done the work. Same goes for the consumer side…
And again (to BMW and others that missed it above…) I’m FINE with people talking about sex work in terms of how it impacts society as a whole, and this is why I absolutely DO want people to try and understand the work…where I draw the line is when people that have never done the work start talking about what the work is, or isn’t, or criticize sex workers own accounts of their personal experiences.
I want people to listen…I want people to relate….
I just don’t want people that have never engaged in sex work trying to portray it as if they know as much or more about the work then those of us that have actually DONE the work.
Megan,
No one becomes an expert in a field simply by working in it, and a person can be a sex worker their whole life and remain entirely ignorant of the social dimension of the issue. The ‘expert knowledge’ you refer to is just an understanding of one’s own feelings about the work – not the industry as a whole, its social significance, public concerns about the commodification of sex, or even, as you acknowledge, the feelings of anyone else in the business.
In this instance, your assertion that there is a lack of personal narratives seems be an attempt to force the conclusion you’d prefer. When BMW voiced a concern that the industry contributes to negative views about women, you responded by informing her that she was too ignorant of the industry to question it. The exploitation of personal narratives for political ends closes down conversation and is ultimately pointless.
No unelected, self-appointed industry experts have the right to instruct the general public to shut up and listen, how ever frustrating that might be to them. An industry can represent its own interests to the public, respond to concerns and attempt to change people’s minds. But that’s all. A collection of personal narratives that draws attention to the diversity of workers’ experiences could be one way of making an important point. But the stories themselves would have no more weight than an individual miner’s account of working underground would contribute to an analysis of the significance of the ’84 strike.
Hi Katherine
It seems I’m not doing a very good job of communicating, in part I think due to the fact that I am guilty, as Keith observes above, of getting sidetracked on my frustration of non-sex workers trying to speak for those work in the industry, as was done by the author here.
My point about expertise is that, as those that have engaged in the field, we are greater experts then those that have never done the work. That degree of expertise will surely depend upon the time and experiences of any given worker, but none the less, workers are, IMO, the only persons qualified to speak about the *experience* of working in the sex trade. And I’m not sure how you make the assumption that someone that might work “their whole life” might still not be an expert or understand the social or political relevance of our work is another example of how out of touch most outsiders are about who we are or what we think about… Again, it’s offensive to make such comments, as if we don’t actually *think* about what we are doing…
I did not intend for my original comments to be applied towards a larger, societal debate about the politics of prostitution in society, and I tried to clarify to include that yes, other persons input does count, and should, when talking about how prostitution fits in to society as a whole. Keith, thank you for the spank on that, and in hindsight, perhaps I should have kept my frustration aired on a separate, more appropriate outlet.
Again, my frustration comes from those speaking about sex work that have never done the work. I know and respect non-sex workers who are allies that have a decent understanding about our industry, but the difference is that they allow us to speak for ourselves.
Katherine, I don’t know where I called BMW ignorant, nor where I responded directly to any comments they made about a negative impact on women… If a response I made under their response came across that way, it was not intended. I most certainly do not call people names, no matter how heated the debate or disagreement.
I’m not going to keep beating a dead horse or trying to repeat myself, so I think it is time I exit stage left… I do wish you all the best.
Megan