First they came for the porn stars: the problem with an online filter

The idea that you can tackle misogyny with a porn filter or a plastic bag is one of the more ludicrous conceits of social conservatives in modern times.

A few days ago, Conservatives received an email from David Cameron Himself, boasting of his new porn filter, a filter that will “protect childhood itself”. Underneath his signature, written in teeny-tiny text, was the message: “Blocked by your spam filter? Add bulletin@news.conservatives.com” to your address book.” Even the best filters still catch out the morally pure. 

The Co-op supermarket have implemented a filter of their own, demanding that lads’ mags be delivered in opaque modesty bags. The move comes after pressure from campaigns like “Lose the Lads’ Mags” run by Object and Feminista, who would prefer it if the Co-op would stop selling such titles altogether. Their spokesperson referred to the bags as ‘misogyny bags’, which is the point where the logic of their campaign falls apart.

Let’s take two examples, and in the comments below you can tell readers which you think is more misogynistic, more objectifying.  In the first example, Kelly Brook is on a beach, wearing a bikini. She has travelled there to work consensually with a photographer and editor on a professional collaboration, producing pictures on her terms that she likes. One of the pictures is printed on the front cover of FHM with a caption saying that Kelly Brook competes with the desert to see who’s hottest. It is obvious that she is looking at the camera, interacting consensually with the photographer.

In the second example, Kelly Brook is on a beach, wearing a bikini. She is on holiday. A paparazzi photographer takes pictures of her from an unflattering angle. They find their way to the desk of Heat magazine, who publish the picture on the front cover with the headline: “Does Kelly Brook look fat to you? Readers give their verdict.” Doubtless Heat would argue that they were joining the debate in Brook’s support, highlighting the absurdity of calling an obviously beautiful and healthy woman "fat". But if Heat really wanted to tackle the vile culture of body-policing that pervades modern media, they could simply choose not to participate in it.

The idea that you can tackle misogyny with a porn filter or a plastic bag is one of the more ludicrous conceits of social conservatives in modern times. The digital version of drug prohibition, it is a gesture to traditional values that allows politicians to give the impression of action without addressing the root issues. For all their talk about misogyny, campaigners seem more interested in tackling sexuality. For all their talk about the safety of porn stars, campaigners seem more interested in driving them out of their jobs than reforming the industry.

That’s the other effect of filters – they censor. Deborah Orr, writing in the Guardian, sees no problem with censorship. But then why should she? Orr is middle-class, and has regular access to a newspaper column in which to express her opinions. Her voice is safe, and if others aren’t that’s their problem. Her writing treats such people with contempt - women who enjoy "violent" porn are, to Orr’s eyes, picking up “useful tips on fictional rape”. But it’s precisely that sort of bigoted attitude to minority sexual preferences that inspires unease about the increasing efforts to censor the internet in accordance with "mainstream" tastes.

Of course for Deborah Orr there is no censorship, because Deborah Orr is a privileged middle-class woman with considerable personal agency – she can simply press the button at any time and have the filter deactivated. It doesn’t seem to occur to her that not everybody is in the same position. If you don’t own a house, if your landlord, partner (or abusive partner), parent, flatmate or university owns the connection, you may not have the same choice that Orr does. Anyone can choose not to seek out porn, not everyone can choose to have access to it.

And of course it won’t just be porn. It can’t be, because filters simply aren’t good enough to make a clear distinction. As Wired reported over the weekend, all other kinds of "objectionable" content could be included too. “As well as pornography, users may automatically be opted in to blocks on "violent material", "extremist related content", "anorexia and eating disorder websites" and "suicide related websites", "alcohol" and "smoking". But the list doesn't stop there. It even extends to blocking "web forums" and "esoteric material", whatever that is. "Web blocking circumvention tools" is also included, of course.”

To date, advocates of a porn filter have failed even to adequately define porn, let alone demonstrate that it causes significant harm in our society, or that a filter will have any impact in reducing that harm. Meanwhile the negative consequences of a filter are demonstrable. Thousands of people will be barred from legitimate exploration of their sexuality, and have their access to advice on sexual health, sexuality, and mental health issues removed. The most vulnerable people in society will be the least able to circumvent the block.

But that’s okay, because Daily Mail readers will be able to sleep soundly in the belief that they have made an import contribution in the war on misogyny.

1955: A model leaves a photography studio after posing for pornographic shots, and walks out of the building into the light. Photo: Pryor/Three Lions/Getty Images

Martin Robbins is a Berkshire-based researcher and science writer. He writes about science, pseudoscience and evidence-based politics. Follow him on Twitter as @mjrobbins.

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When to take a leak, abuse in Ambridge, and Ian McEwan’s identity supermarket

First thoughts on Cameron and the Panama Papers, Caitlyn Jenner, and The Archers.

A few months ago, I wrote a piece for Nieman Reports, Harvard’s journalism magazine, about the ethics of working with leaked and stolen documents. There are tough questions to be asked about running such stories – the article was prompted by the Sony hack, which unearthed public-interest gems such as how an executive had bought pubic hair dye on Amazon – but the Panama Papers are the most open-and-shut-case I can remember.

Unlike the disclosures of WikiLeaks and Edward Snowden, there is no question here of national security being breached; unlike the Sony hack, there is no celebrity tittle-tattle being passed off as news. The only questions that should have troubled reporters are:
a) “Are these documents real?” and b) “Can I protect the source?” Whoever leaked the 2.4 terabytes of data is very brave; he or she is now in the sights of every corrupt politician, state-sanctioned gangster and kleptocrat between here and the Río Chagres.

 

Shameless rich

Reading the Papers gave me a huge rush of anger and I was glad to see left and right united in condemnation. But we have to be realistic about the likely impact: it is notoriously hard to embarrass the super-rich and they will now have ample confirmation that “everyone is at it”. So far we haven’t even been able to extract an answer from David Cameron over his father’s Blairmore fund, established when David was 16. Were his Eton fees paid with money that had previously taken a lovely sunny holiday offshore? Was his Bullingdon Club uniform bought with wealth grown using a system his own Chancellor has called “morally repugnant”?

The most telling line came in the rebuttal from the firm involved, Mossack Fonseca, which claimed that in 40 years of operation it had never been charged with criminal wrongdoing. No, I imagine not.

 

A tale of two Helens

So she did it. OK, you might not care about The Archers, but unless you’ve stuffed your ears with cheese, by now you should know that Helen Titchener stabbed her husband, Rob, after months of escalating emotional abuse. May I toot the horn of our web editor, Caroline Crampton, who spotted the potential impact of this plotline in February and published a harrowing but essential piece by the writer Helen Walmsley-Johnson, who had suffered a similar pattern of abuse? As a result of the NS publishing her story, a crowdfunding appeal was set up and over £100,000 has been raised for the charity Refuge, to help women like both Helens to leave their partner.

On that note, the Archers story might have ended with Helen knifing Rob – but in the real world, men are four times more likely to kill their partner than the other way round.

 

Nail-varnished truth

I’ve always loved Eddie Izzard – that routine about “the pen of my aunt” is unparalleled in modern comedy – but I’m baffled why he now claims to have come out “as transgender 30 years ago”. I may have fallen victim to false memory syndrome, but my recollection is that he always called himself a transvestite, though he used to explain that the clothes he wore weren’t “women’s clothes”; they were “his clothes”. (My take on the subject? I’m with RuPaul: “We’re all born naked and the rest is drag.”)

Izzard – who has long harboured ambitions of becoming an elected Labour politician – is perfectly entitled to define himself however he wishes and to update that definition based on the latest vocabulary and cultural moment. Yet I can’t help feeling that there is something regressive about this biographical rewrite. Izzard used to present himself as someone who was biologically male but enjoyed wearing clothes historically associated with women. Now he talks about getting his nails done because: “I’ve got boy genetics and girl genetics.” I can’t wait to hear which particular DNA sequence is associated with liking nail polish and, moreover, why I don’t have it.

 

More than old-fashioned

Izzard was responding, in part, to remarks made by the Booker Prize-winning novelist Ian McEwan, who used a lecture at the Royal Institution to lament the modern idea of an “identity supermarket”, in which individuals choose their self like a “consumer desirable”. (He later added: “Call me old-fashioned but I tend to think of people with penises as men.” Having spent some time on Twitter and Tumblr, I can confidently say that a lot of people will call him something worse than that.)

The question of whether your identity is determined only by you or is imposed by society might sound like one of those things that keep first-year undergraduates up in a marijuana haze until 3am, but it has pretty big implications for policies ranging from the Race Relations Act to measures that concern single-sex spaces such as prisons, as well as the funding that backs them. We mustn’t dodge it.

 

Inside and out

I’ve been chewing the question over since I watched the varying responses from progressives to Rachel Dolezal (a white woman who got a perm and a tan and passed as African American, saying that she “felt” black) and Caitlyn Jenner, the former patriarch of the Kardashian clan, revealed as a woman on the cover of Vanity Fair.

Most of the op-eds at the time blithely asserted that race and gender – both social constructs with a biological basis – were, like, totally different, without ever deigning to explain why. Since then, the best explanation I’ve found comes from the sex researcher James Cantor: “Identity is not an ‘inner sense’. It’s a statement of the social role you want others to treat you as.”

I like this, because it makes the (important) case that trans men and women should be accepted in their chosen gender, without invoking quasi-religious ideas of a soul or the pseudoscience of “girl genetics” making you like dresses. Eddie, take note. l

Peter Wilby returns next week

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

This article first appeared in the 08 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Tories at war