Just stumbling across a Rihanna video on YouTube is enough to "sexualise" a girl, apparently. Photograph: Getty Images
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Laurie Penny on Rihanna: Can watching videos turn a girl into a knicker-dropping strumpet?

We're experiencing a sexual counterrevolution that encompasses a backlash against women’s sexual and reproductive freedom.

Teen sex is catching. According to politicians, we are suffering from an epidemic of promiscuity which is turning our young women into knicker-dropping teen strumpets before our very eyes.

"Sexualisation" is the favourite term of reference for this process - and it’s a curious, toxic word. 

The language of ‘sexualisation’ as employed by professional pearl-clutchers like Claire Perry MP implicitly assumes that sex is only, and always, something done to women and girls rather than something we do ourselves - a logic by which we can only ever be sex objects.  "The teenage girl," as Naomi Wolf observed in her book Promiscuities, "is understood more clearly as a victim of culture and sexuality than as a sexual and cultural creator." 

According to the ‘sexualisation’ logic, a young girl merely has to leaf through a contraband copy of Cosmopolitan or stumble on a Rhianna video on Youtube and wham, that’s it, sexualised. Ruined forever. Nothing to be done, and abuse and wanton, abject harlotry will surely follow. 

"The honest facts of female sexual development in adolescence- especially the facts of girls' desire - have sustained a long history of active censorship," wrote Woolf in 1997. A decade-and-a-half later, it is still modish for politicians and public health officials to behave as if women and girls had no sexual agency whatsoever, and must instead be protected from the terrible disease of “sexualisation”, which young girls are assumed to catch like the common cold. 

Apparently, we cannot cope, as a culture, with the idea that a young girl who experiences sexual desire might not be promiscuous, or wicked, or dangerous. With every technology of pleasure  and knowledge at our fingertips, we are not a society that wants to know about female pleasure, or one that respects female sexual subjectivity. 

And if young women are victimised – one in six children aged between 11 and 17 have experienced sexual abuse – we still seem to have a problem with placing blame where it belongs, with the abusers, whether they are strangers or members of their own family. No politician seems able to come forward and tell adult men to stop abusing young girls. The problem must, instead, lie with female sexuality itself, too much, or too young, or both. This week, national treasure Joanna Lumley took it upon herself to weigh in and tell young women to stop dressing “like trash” if they don’t want to get raped - an attitude that, despite the best efforts of sex-positive feminists, is becoming more and more common.

Young women in particular still receive extremely mixed messages about how they are expected to behave sexually. They are encouraged to look and act available in a passive, submissive manner at all times, but slut-shamed and dismissed, assumed to be complicit in their own abuse, if they ever actually allow the boys to touch them or, heaven forfend, pursue them of their own volition. Young men, of course, can be equally confused and distressed by the violent, thrusting, hyperbolic images that are, increasingly, the only easily available model of adult sexuality - yes, you can find every type of porn imaginable on the internet, but you have to know what you’re looking for first, otherwise you find yourself, like many young men, lost in a world of disembodied dicks brutalising women into submission. We assume, though, that the sexuality of boys is both normal and inherently violent, so nobody seems worried about protecting young men from ‘sexualisation.’

An incredible thing has happened. We live in an age of boundless information. Kids today simply know more, much more, than any generation that has come before them.  I'm typing part of this column, for example, on a device no bigger than my open hand through which I can access, with a couple of finger-swipes, more data than my immediate ancestors ever conceived of in their days of hoarding books in island poverty - although I mainly use it to look at smutty webcomics and find my way to the pub. And yet, with all this hyperabundance of information, with all of these learning tools at our disposal, we have somehow managed to raise yet another generation that remains as ignorant and confused as ever about that most intimate of mysteries, human sexuality. How did this happen?

It happened because adults in this culture persist in seeing their own sexuality as monstrous, as terrifying and compelling and disgusting, rather than as a normal part of human development. It happened because we are unable to provide decent, adequate sex education in schools, or alternative models for sexuality beyond the pornily performative, the sterile and the sexist and the crashingly heteronormative. We surround ourselves with glossy images of faux-nymphettes sucking their thumbs to sell us perfume and underwear and car insurance, and yet we are unable to conceive of an adolescent or pre-adolescent sexuality that is anything but abusive. This says far more about commercial culture than it does about young women, most of whom, if we all calm down for a minute and look at the actual evidence, still don't have sex until they are at least sixteen. 

Our fundamental mistake has been to confuse commercial sexuality, the porny, plastic, airbrushed, pole-twirling, lolly-licking vision of perpetual female heterosexual erotic submission, with sex itself, which is rather like confusing the McDonalds burger menu with food. Most of the available evidence suggests that young people are able to make that distinction right up until the point when they are offered no other language in which to express their own sexual feelings, like hungry late-night revellers who eventually give in and scarf down a Big Mac because there's nothing else open. It is adults, not children, who need to grow up about sexuality, to understand that in between frantic censorship and dull, sphincter-straining YouPorn hardcore pornography is a whole world of pleasure and adventure that young people should feel free to explore without fearing violence and abuse. Sex is not the problem. Sexism is the problem, and always has been.

The truth is that if a young woman is abused, sexually or otherwise, by an adult, it is never her fault, whatever she was wearing or doing. Right now a great chilling effect is going on across the Western world, a sexual counter-revolution that encompasses a backlash against women’s sexual and reproductive freedom, our right to choose when and if and how we fuck and what we do with our bodies afterwards, and the attack on the sexuality of young girls, the assumption that abuse is an inevitable consequence of teenage sexuality, is part of that backlash. In Britain we do not even have many of our nearest cultural neighbors’ excuse of being half-run by rabid religious zealots who regard rape resulting in pregnancy as a gift from Jesus and would exchange the word ‘vagina’ for ‘devil’s dirt-hole’ in school textbooks if they could. Here, we may have turfed the Catholic Church out of the mechanisms of state several centuries ago, but the Priest in the head is harder to evict. 

"There is a sense in much of this literature of an assumed ‘weight of evidence’ which included the idea that girls are ‘directly sexualised’ through their exposure to advertising, tween magazines and television programmes," concludes a recent report from the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. "However there is, in fact, a severe shortage of rigorous research on this emotive issue." In other words, the moral panic is almost entirely made up. That doesn’t stop it from making great political capital. The only people likely to be damaged by the new prudery are young men and women trying to negotiate their developing sexuality in a safe, positive way - and they’re almost nobody’s target voter.

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

This article first appeared in the 04 February 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The Intervention Trap

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Chuka Umunna: Why tolerance is not enough

Against the Trumpification of politics.

It’s still spring, yet 2016 already stands out as one of the ugliest years in modern British political history. It was fantastic to see Londoners choosing hope over fear in May, electing Sadiq Khan as our first Muslim mayor. But David Cameron, having shamelessly endorsed Zac Goldsmith’s dog-whistle campaign tactics, owes those young Muslims who have been put off politics by the slurs hurled at Khan an explanation. How does racial profiling and sectarian scaremongering fit into his One Nation vision for Britain?

Meanwhile, Boris Johnson, one of the best bets to succeed Cameron as our next prime minister, embarrassed Britain on the world stage with a racially charged allusion to Barack Obama’s Kenyan heritage. And my own party has been grappling with a swath of deeply disturbing revelations regarding the attitudes held by some on the left towards Israel and Jewish people. Sowing discord by stigmatising or scapegoating a single faith group or community is profoundly at odds with the British tradition of “tolerance”, but we can’t ignore that this year’s events are part of a rising trend of friction and factionalism.

Last year’s general election should have been a wake-up call. The political and cultural divides between people living in the north and south and urban and rural areas – as well as between working-class and metropolitan sensibilities – appear starker than ever. In May’s devolved elections, Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish politics became yet more distinct – giving the impression of a kingdom coming apart at the seams. All the while, more and more voices in our national politics seek to pin the blame for the challenges facing our country on a single section of society, whether immigrants, Muslims or another group.

This trend stretches beyond our borders. From Ukip, the French Front National and Austria’s Freedom Party to Podemos in Spain and Italy’s Five Star Movement, new populist parties of the right and left are on the rise across Europe. In the United States, Bernie Sanders is tapping into the energy of Occupy Wall Street, while Donald Trump has emerged as the heir to the Tea Party: a poster boy for division and recrimination.

Trump’s rise should be a warning for us Brits. The New York Times commentator David Brooks has described his success as less indicative of the emergence of a new school of thought, or movement, and more of dissatisfaction with the status quo. Trump’s campaign has tapped into a complex cocktail of grievances, from the loss of manufacturing jobs in a globalised economy to rising inequality and raw anger felt by many white working-class Americans at demographic and cultural changes.

In the run-up to last year’s general election, as I travelled around the country, I was confronted time and time again with the reality that in the UK – just like in the US – people are afraid and angry because the world is changing in ways they fear are beyond their control. Where once they had believed that, if they worked hard, they would get ahead, too many Britons now feel that the system is rigged in favour of those born into opportunity and that those in power have abandoned them to a broken future. What it means to be British seems to have shifted around them, triggering a crisis of solidarity.

We are at a crossroads and may face nothing less than the Trumpification of British politics. In an uncertain and changing world, it is all too easy to imagine that our problems are caused by those who are different from us.

If we wish to follow the fine example set by Londoners on 5 May and choose unity and empathy over division and blame, we must accept that simply “tolerating” one another will no longer do. There is an accusation built into the very word: what you are doing is “other” or “wrong”. As Britain has become more diverse, we have come to know each other less. This makes it harder to understand how people from different walks of life feel about the big issues.

I am a Labour member because I believe, as it says on our membership cards, that, by the strength of our common endeavour, we achieve more together than we do alone. In order to develop the bonds of trust required for this to become a reality, and for our communities to flourish and our democracy to deliver for everyone, we must build a society in which people from all backgrounds actually get to know one another and lead interconnected lives. In this sense, “One Nation” – the land over which all parties seek purchase – should become more than a platitude. It should become a way of life.

Chuka Umunna is Labour MP for Streatham.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad