Panic at the Porno: Moral panics and amateur porn
What do processed meat and amateur porn have in common? Liv McMahon examines the moral panic surrounding the amateur adult industry, and explains why she feels torn when it comes to porn. Contains graphic descriptions.
Nothing quite exemplifies the revolutionary impact of the internet like porn. No longer a spectator sport, porn is now bottom-up, non-exclusive and participatory. Google hosts a seemingly endless amount of sites catering to every sexual specialty imaginable, so much so that last year our coalition government took measures to ban facesitting, female ejaculation and fisting (to name a few).
Pornhub’s 'Amateur' category boasts an ever-increasing 34000 videos. What’s odd is that despite huge advancements, porn remains a topic divided along the same lines of debate as decades ago; anti-porn or anti-censorship, with no apparent in-between. As a feminist, I feel torn when it comes porn, believing strongly that women should be free to opt into a career in porn or sex work of any kind. Yet the question lingers uncomfortably – is porn inherently misogynistic?
This confliction came to a head after seeing Hot Girls Wanted, a Netflix documentary produced by Rashida Jones. Filmmakers followed teens who pursued careers in amateur porn after discovering ads on Craigslist. The documentary graphically portrays male producers “punishing” young porn actresses by combining hardcore sex with vomit inducing tactics. Certain parts – such as the snippets from horrific ‘facial abuse’ videos, regarded as a necessary evil in an American girl’s amateur porn career – make for particularly difficult viewing.
As a type of porn, amateur comes closest to the idea of ‘realcore’. Lo-fi filming paints a picture of authenticity, as does the impression that those involved are actually enjoying themselves and want to be there. Tressa, the documentary’s protagonist, is presented as an innocent beacon of academic excellence, who lost all direction and integrity upon entering a corrupting sex industry. She epitomises a timeless moral panic surrounding porn – that this sacrificial porno-lamb could very well be your daughter. Society’s porn anxiety rarely prompts a concrete solution. Instead, we vilify and criticise young women for their choices, rather than the porn kings whose camera lenses and jumpcuts typify the male gaze.
Comparing amateur porn to Uber, The Washington Post warned that “breaking out of an old model means escaping regulations protecting workers.” California’s enforcement of condoms in pornography prompted a mass migration of porn production to locations like Miami, where producers aren’t subject to health restrictions. Actors and actresses carry a hefty financial burden too, shelling out for lingerie, travel expenses, medical treatment – which is challenging, especially in America, due to expensive healthcare and the physically demanding nature of porn. “In the amateur world you’re just processed meat,” Rachel dryly admits in the documentary, reminding us that the cheapness may please far-removed audiences seeking realism, but is felt first hand by the actresses featured.
What the future holds for porn is an interesting prospect; it’ll no doubt continue to grow and diversify as technology does, but will its power dynamics ever change? I’d like to believe they will; feminist porn is now a realistic option, even if it is chronically overlooked. Pornography should be more than a medley of disembodied dicks being rammed into every orifice. And the sooner amateur porn reflects this, the sooner society can stop the scaremongering.