Two issues ago, Anneliese Steden wrote of her disgust that her local library had purchased Madonna’s book
Sex. In last month’s issue, Dana Colarusso cautioned against censorship in general.
It is not censorship for a publicly-funded library to refuse to purchase Sex. If people want to read Madonna’s views – and look at the photographs of her in various nude poses in various stages of sexual arousal – then they are perfectly free to go to their bookstores and hand over the $40 plus that it costs. But, surely, there is something most offensive in the idea that taxpayers’ dollars should go to support such voyeurism.
Like Ms Colarusso, I get apprehensive when calls for censorship go out. But I am not sure the cloak of freedom of speech and/or expression should cover universal access to absolutely everything that may be written, filmed or said. Take pornography for example.
Canadian society cannot even agree on a definition of pornography. Today’s politically-correct censors argue that graphic depiction of sexual activity is merely erotica; pornography is erotica with the added element of violence against women. “Erotica” is, of course, politically correct, and those of us who would timidly suggest that some standards of good taste and decency should be applied are arrogantly dismissed as cultural dinosaurs and people with hang-ups about sex.
In my view, the distinction between pornography (bad, because of the violence-against-women element) and erotica (good, because it is not-violent) is baloney. All of it degrades and exploits everyone, not just the users. But a campaign to band pornography will not succeed until more people are willing to admit our sex-obsessed society is out of control.
First, we mist create the kind of climate in which those who consume pornography become ostracized (just in the same way that smokers have become today’s lepers).
We can refuse to shop at the corner stores that stock sleazy magazines, and tell the owners why we will not buy our milk here. We can insist that video stores are prohibited – at the very least – from renting sexually-explicit videos to adolescents. (In Ontario, for example, stores are prohibited from selling cigarettes to those under 18, and the owners who ignore the law can be fined). We can refuse to subscribe to the cable television services that show objectionable movies, and tell them why. We can make polite telephone calls to the networks if we find the movie of the week objectionable.
The magazine publishers, video stores and movie makers have only one motive for the material they produce: profit. If enough people are prepared to boycott their goods; they will clean up their products. People have been brainwashed into believing that the majority approves of—and wants to see nudity, and detailed sexual seduction scenes, in popular movies. However, most people do not bother to protest either for fear of being labeled prudish and intolerant, or through apathy, believing that they cannot make the difference.
Boycotting the product would affect the porn producers, but what about those who but the stuff? This is where the tactics of the anti-smoking campaign can be adapted. Just as smoking affects physical health, and harms smokers and non-smokers alike, pornography destroys the mental health of users and non-users. People could be persuaded that pornography just does not belong in their neighbourhoods and on the television channels. People have a right to protest children and the vulnerable, without being dismissed as intolerant prudes.
The evidence indicates that exposure to soft-core porn leads to consumption of even more offensive explicit material which, in turn, leads to aggressive sexual behaviour. It is in society’s interest to cut off unlimited access to the material which can threaten the safety of its citizens. Making the stuff harder to obtain will not solve the problem, but, it seems to me to be a winnable first step.
Is there anyone out there willing to lead this campaign?
