Why Nudity CAN’T be Pornography
Malcolm Bolivar
12/10/2020
Today is the day I decided to delete my last Instagram account. Truth is, I have been ranting about Facebook for years (deleted my account in 2014) and how they are bringing about the ruin of society. But I couldn’t bring myself to delete the last account. I was using it for two reasons, first to support my friends and fellow artists who post their work. Second, to check out photos of stuff I liked, mostly cool artwork or items that feature skulls, and motorcycles. I used Instagram as it was initially intended to be used–as a tool bringing together diverse communities for social experiences and engagement.
Recently, I posted an artistic image of a woman who was also nude. Immediately after I made the post, it was taken down. Not a few minutes later, immediately. I worked in technology. What that means is that feature is now built into Instagram software to remove images that—based on the algorithm they created—will automatically delete any image of a nude person (presumably for women that means showing breasts with nipples, for men that means an exposed penis). What it also means is that we are removing any and all reasonableness out of the process for how social media platforms operate as it relates to this issue. Facebook has decided, on its own, what is appropriate and not appropriate for people to see. I have a problem with that.
This is really an essay (or is this an article? I don’t really know) about nuance. One of things that worries me the most in 2020 (It is almost over!) is the fact that we are losing nuance. In almost every aspect of our lives, we are facing the simplification fallacy. A theorem—I have just now created—that states:
Simplification Fallacy
In our driving desire to make things easier, we have strayed too far in favor of simplification. This has resulted in the loss of respect for the fact that many problems are challenging and it takes smart people to think them through. Furthermore, we need the freedom to potentially fail when trying out possible solutions and, above all, we need to have an appreciation for their complexity.
We mostly have technology companies to thank for the Simplification Fallacy (I am using initial caps to signify this is a thing!). For better or worse, the relentless drive to find problems that solutions can be applied to is a trap that leads us into a swamp of unintended consequences. And that’s where we are today.
A brief digression … I used to talk with a dear friend of mine (who took his own life in 2019) all the time about how many technology companies have created solutions that are in search of problems. He was right about that as early as the end of the last decade (2008 to 2010). I miss him so much. It makes my heart ache when I think of him. Rest in peace Scott, “I have been, and always shall be, your friend.”
Before I get to the nuance part, I want to take a step back and make sure we are all on the same page about definitions. One of the things about nuance is that you have to be clear about definitions. And we aren’t always on the same page about what words mean. So, let’s start with the most important one for the purposes of this essay. The definition of Pornography. Here are three definitions from different sources:
[noun] sexually explicit videos, photographs, writings, or the like, whose purpose is to elicit sexual arousal.
[noun] the depiction of erotic behavior (as in pictures or writing) intended to cause sexual excitement.
[noun] printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate erotic rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings.
Source: Oxford English Dictionary (as supplied through Google Search)
I take issue with the last definition, or at least the part that says “display of sexual organs,” primarily because “display of sexual organs,” feels like an attempt to widen the definition and thereby labeling an image of nudity as “pornography.” I am going to accept the Dictionary.com and Merriam-Webster definitions for the purposes of this discussion.
Using those definitions, we are now in the territory of what has pornography been used to define? Specifically, why did we formulate the definition of pornography in the first place? At the risk of becoming too academic, the term hard-core pornography was mentioned—as a matter of law—by the Supreme Court in a case that went on to produce, arguably, one of the most famous—and dangerous—quotes from the Supreme Court of the United States. In Jacobellis v. Ohio, Justice Potter used the term "hard-core pornography,” and went on to say about defining it, “I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so.” Where he then coined the famous phrase, “But I know it when I see it.” To give the Supreme Court a little credit, they revisited the issue in 1973 in the Miller v. California decision where, instead of using the word “pornography,” they focused on the definition of obscenity.
I would argue that the use of the word “pornography” has, like many words in the English language, developed it’s own connotations. The word pornography doesn’t evoke the same feelings or perceptions we might have when we use the words “sensual content” or even “erotic content.” Both of which, in my opinion, are statements which most people would consider more neutral. Pornography, instead, is associated with negative perceptions. I will concede that, more recently, the term “porn” and the ubiquity of sexual films, images, and content on the internet has helped to diminish these negative connotations. However, for the most part, we still associate “pornography” with something dirty, impure, and, therefore, negative.
Why does that matter? Well, let’s first appreciate that this is a nuanced and complicated topic. There is a great deal of difference between two people kissing who are naked on film versus the depiction of bestiality. I am going to keep my focus on two people having consensual sex on film/video, in photography, or depicted in writing. I will further state that depiction of any person, or animal, who is engaged in non-consensual sexual behavior (or is legally not able to provide consent) needs to be illegal. The discussion of illegal activity involving sexual exploitation of children, animals, and adults who do not provide consent, or are forced against their will, is another discussion entirely and not the focus of this article (essay? Damn! Which is it?).
So back to how we define the word “pornography” and the concern I have about it. Intent. Intent is hard to prove, and hard to quantify. Murder in the first degree is often defined as the murderer having “willfulness” in the law. Which involves the specific intent to end human life. Intent is often proved, however, through the outcomes of motive. And, in the end, murderers seldom get up and testify in court that they “intended” to kill someone. Which would be the only way for us to know that intent actually existed.
I use that example, because I think the same thing applies when we look at the definition of pornography. All of the definitions include “intent.” And how do we really know what the intent was to begin with. I recall watching videos of sex acts in college during my Biology of Human Sexuality class (those sessions were standing room only!). And, as I think back on those films, I wonder what the intent of the filmmaker was. In many instances, we can’t know what intent was unless it is explicitly defined by the person who wrote, filmed, edited, and released that particular film. Furthermore, it stands to reason, that many of the sex scenes depicted in “R” rated movies could easily be classified as “pornography” using this definition. In fact, much of the “TV-MA” rated content could also be classified as pornography if the persons involved in writing, directing, acting, editing, and producing intended to make a scene involving two people having simulated sex be “sexy.”
What that leaves me with—and I hope I have done a somewhat decent job of explaining and supporting my position—is that the word pornography is a word that has negative connotations and is used to classify a range of images, film, and writing, as dirty or bad (I am using “bad” intentionally here.). Furthermore, the definition is actually inappropriate in helping us understand any material that may depict nudity or depict and describe sex. We have, essentially, created a word that enables people who reject any type of sexual content, to shut it down and classify it as something that is “bad.” Removing all nuance and appreciation for the complexity of discussions that we need to have about art, sexuality, sexual arousal, and what it means to us as humans.
And now, we get to nudity. If I have done my job and convinced you that the use of the term pornography is both inappropriate and not a useful tool for us to further the conversation about having serious discussions related to sex, art, and social interaction, we need to think hard about the role of film and images that depict nudity. Materials—film/video, photography, paintings, and drawings—are representations of the human form in our natural state. Again, for the purpose of this discussion, I am referring to representations of the human adult body over the age of 18. The nude human body, is nothing to be ashamed of. Ancient cultures celebrated the human form in regular depictions and some cultures today still do not see a need to cover the genitals of a man and woman or the breasts of an adult woman. Contrary to myths, nudity doesn’t cause people to behave irrationally. We should endeavor to avoid associating nudity with shame or, like pornography, make it “bad.”
And yet, that is what we are doing. The effort of social media to police—then later ban—nudity has created an environment that has turned the idea of nudity akin to the idea of “pornography.” And things are starting to get worse. Nipples bans, censoring of artistic nude images, and even the suggestion of nudity has become something that is shameful, a violation or rules and community guidelines, and, in some jurisdictions, the depiction of nudity being an unlawful act. This approach has the downstream effect of telling people, “your bodies are shameful, and the nude human body is something that needs to be criminalized.”
As Americans, we laugh and make fun of cultures that force women to wear protective clothing over their heads, faces, arms, legs, and entire bodies based on the rationale that men who see these things cannot exercise the self control needed to concentrate on their education, their work, or keep from sexually abusing women. Yet, we enable this same mentality by supporting social media, laws, and institutions that ban or perpetuate these restrictions. We need look no further than the very high profile case of the mother of male college students attending Notre Dame (I really feel for the sons of that woman) who insisted that women should not be allowed to wear leggings because it made it hard for “Catholic mothers to teach their sons that women are someone’s daughters and sisters … and … should be considered with respect.” If you want to see the full letter written by this “good Catholic mom” you can read it here.
What I see is that nuance is the unrecognized victim in all of this. The nuance of important discussions about what type of humans we want to be. About how we want to raise happy and healthy children to not be ashamed of their bodies. The nuance of the fact that sex, sexuality, and our bodies are important to who we are. Our very nature, the desire to engage socially, to have sex, is the reason why our species have survived and thrived on this planet. All of us want to raise healthy and well-adjusted children. We want our children to respect themselves and not be faced with a life of self-loathing and insecurity. We want to live in a world where we can express ourselves sexually and be proud of our bodies no matter what it looks like. We want our children to make healthy decisions about their own sexuality and to make well-informed decisions while never being pressured into something they don’t feel good about or fully understand. Instead we are teaching children the opposite, while we create institutions and systems that support technology companies (mostly) who become the ultimate arbiters of what is appropriate. I often wonder why all those “freedom” lovers don’t speak more aggressively about this.
I would suggest that if the discourse has reached this level, we are taking our attention away from the most important outcome of all this. Human social interaction, like human sexuality, is a complicated topic that requires a great deal of thought and discussion. Religion, and any institutions that hope to limit that discussion, is a choice made by individuals and should not hold power and influence over the decisions made by the United States government to preserve the rights of the people. These restrictions—from the language we use, to the permissiveness of letting technology companies decide what we can and cannot consume—are complicated and nuanced topics. Ones that require discussion, thoughtful contemplation, trial and error, and ongoing re-assessment of the decisions made in the past. Nudity is just one example on a long-list of casualties and, perhaps, the easiest one for these same technology companies to act unilaterally on because there aren’t too many people in power looking to defend it. Technology companies that have, and use, technology to find and delete an image of naked woman based on her nipple being exposed.
All without thoughtful discussion.
I, for one, fear for what the future holds if we don’t take a minute to stop and consider the damage we are doing to ourselves.
-M
Copyright © 2020 - Malcolm Bolivar. All Rights Reserved.
Image courtesy of the Femme Project
