An intimate look at the politics of porn

Monica University, according to a thread on Yelp, is my official porn star name. Looking at it, I can’t help but think that the majority of the business I’d generate would consist of adults looking for evening classes, not nighttime entertainment.

Besides narrowing down my list of post-graduation options, Googling the porn star name formula apparently has little use outside of discovering a site that touts porn stars as “the heroes of our age.” An interesting label, especially considering the terms I, as a woman, have grown up linking to porn, none of them being positive. In my experience, there’s been a major discrepancy between the ways the genders perceive porn, making me wonder why it’s such an awkward subject for most females my age.

The first time I was confronted with “pornography,” or my younger self’s estimation of it, was when a friend suggested we look up “kissing” on the Internet. Shocking, I know. We were so nervous about the results Yahoo (there wasn’t Google back then) would produce, we closed the window before they could even show up. Already, we associated any form of pornography with shame and secrecy. In the next few years, my encounters with porn usually had to do with boys joking about watching it, while girls either giggled or disgustedly hit them on the shoulder. It left me with the overall impression that every boy watches porn, and that all normal girls should deride it.

As I’ve learned in the years since, it’s not just the male half of our population that’s into porn. According to a pamphlet published by Feminists for Free Expression, “Half the adult videos in the U.S. are bought or rented by women alone or women in a couple.” The pamphlet was written in 1993, and I can’t imagine that the number of women watching porn has decreased since then. And yet, if I mention porn in front of my female friends, the response is awkward shiftiness and breaking of eye contact. Male friends, on the other hand, will go so far as to call it the “best invention that man ever created.”

Some consider porn to be misogynistic and exploitative of women. However, feminist groups such as FFE have made a point of confronting these concerns with statements such as, “Sexism, not sex, degrades women.” They propose that exploitation of women happens in all fields and that what needs to be combated is not porn, but the combination of long-standing factors that cause modern misogyny. Adding to their arguments is the documentary “The Naked Feminist,” which consists of interviews with a number of major female porn stars who call their work empowering, not degrading.
Another reason for the silence surrounding porn seems to be that many college-age women think that watching it makes them appear too sexually open, which, in my opinion, is reminiscent of how admitting to masturbating was weird back in 10th grade. We’re not quite old enough to be entirely comfortable with our sexuality, so we pretend like we’ve never even glimpsed a porno.

This attitude seems to be driven in part by the myth that porn is made for men. It’s not hard to see where this idea comes from—turn on any adult entertainment clip and watch as the woman climaxes from simple penetration, screaming her head off like there’s no tomorrow. For a lazy man, a woman who orgasms from his most unskilled motions is probably ideal. Unfortunately, that’s not quite how it is in reality.

What disappoints me about porn is that it lacks emotion, tension, or even a climax outside of the most obvious one. It’s insanely dry, with a bland repertoire of already-seen motions and mechanisms. According to the 2009 New York Times article “Lights, Camera, Lots of Action. Forget the Script,” it hasn’t always been this way. Back in the ’70s and ’80s, adult entertainment flicks had real story arcs, with viewers flocking to movies such as “Deep Throat.” Now, though, with the Internet’s demand for short, condensed clips that are easily downloaded, plots are no longer a priority for studios. We’re often labeled “Generation ADD,” and it seems that even our sex lives have been affected.

At best, I think my relationship with porn is of the love/hate variety. It leaves me feeling empty, but I do understand the value many see in it. As one of the subjects in “The Naked Feminist” pointed out, though modern porn is far from perfect, it is much better for society than sexual repression. And that is definitely something I stand by.