“Revenge porn.”
We all know what it is: a type of harassment that occurs when a person – be it an ex-lover, current lover, hater, hacker or someone otherwise obsessed — posts sexually explicit images of another person online without their permission.
As of 2017, 38 states in the United States, as well as the District of Columbia, have specific laws outlawing distribution of “revenge porn,” or non-consensual sexual imagery. In order to be guilty of this crime in most states, the distributor must have sent out pictures or video that are considered both graphic (some nudity, etc) and sexual in nature. Posting an unflattering pic doesn’t count.
These laws are still relatively new and are continuing to develop. You can see laws related to the distribution of non-consensual sexual imagery in the U.S. broken down by state right here.
Whatever it takes to get attention: Alarmist language
The phrase “revenge porn” rings many alarms related to sexual expression, socially constructed reputation markers and even technology. It also ticks every box for mainstream newsy clickbait. The more serious law-like descriptor — “intentional distribution of non-consensual porn” – is less alarmist and scintillating, but is still inaccurate.
Here’s the thing. No imagery or media generated in the process of attempting to harass or defame someone is actually porn. Porn by definition is legal and consensual. As such, just because something is sexy-looking or involves nakedness doesn’t mean it’s porn.
Also, this type of harassment and defamation doesn’t have to occur online. Someone can “revenge porn” your apartment complex with fliers or mail any number of fucked up things to your family. (See key scene from the classic “A Walk to Remember” embedded below – super awful!)
With all this in mind, non-consensual sexual imagery is, in my view, a more acute descriptor of this issue.
Whatever it takes to get attention: Celebrities
Though certainly getting a lot of attention relatively recently, “revenge porn” has been around forever.
Taking a page out of the “A Walk to Remember” playbook, Daniel Pfeiffer allegedly grabbed images of Katie Krausz via her social media postings. Pfeiffer then allegedly edited the images to include nudity and posted them all over the interwebs… all the way back in 2011! Krausz had no legal recourse and was unable to get the images removed.
Over a decade ago, then-Harvard student Lena Chen, who wrote about sex and gender on her blog Sex and the Ivy, was also the target of “revenge porn.” An ex-boyfriend leaked nude photos of her on Christmas Eve 2007. Chen was then harassed and doxed mercilessly, prompting her to drop out of school, move to Germany and change her name.
So though “revenge porn” is in the news nowadays in relation to more known and public people like Mischa Barton, Taylor Swift and trash fire Rob Kardashian, average people like Chen and Krausz have been dealing with this type of crime for a long time.
What about “revenge porn” and cam?
We can easily see the separation of “us” and “them” when we’re comparing Kardashians to more everyday folks, but what happens if you are the target of non-consensual sexual imagery and are also a sex worker in the online sex media space? Is there a separation? Sadly, I think the answer is likely “yes.”
Writer Sarah Jeong shared some interesting thoughts about this subject a little over two years ago. After breaking down the inaccuracy of the label “revenge porn,” she wrote:
Sex workers themselves are erased from anti–revenge-porn rhetoric. Proposed remedies for revenge porn—criminalization of disclosures and liability for third-party websites—fail to address the sex-work stigma that creates repercussions for victims of revenge porn. When a woman has her Google results bombed with nude photos and fake sex ads, she won’t pass a screening when she tries to get a job—because she’ll be mistaken for a sex worker. The solution, we conclude, is to remove all possibility of that mistake—rather than to remove what bars a sex worker from getting that job.
This is a very powerful point.
Jeong is saying that “revenge porn” laws, at the end of 2015 and I’d argue still in 2018, rest at least somewhat upon the fear that women be mistaken for sex workers. As such, the intent of laws then is to make sure jerks can’t make that suggestion/mistake – not, instead, to break down the stigma of sex work.
Consider this: If “revenge porn” is a crime when the dissemination of media is not consensual, what happens when online media sex workers – who do consensually allow for the dissemination of some sexy media in certain work-related circumstances – find themselves dealing with a “revenge porn” scenario?
If a motivating factor behind these new laws, as awesome as they are, is to make sure no one mistakes Mischa Barton or Lena Chen for an online sex worker, doesn’t that then also further push actual online sex workers, like cam models, into a corner if/when they are hassled in this manner?
Jeong wrote “Sex workers are left out of the story because the existence of sex work raises awkward questions about how to define revenge porn, how to understand its harms and how to most appropriately redress its victims.” This is a very important dimension to consider.
I have been unable to find any instances of sex workers fighting back against revenge porn, successfully or otherwise. If you know of any, please let me know so we can share strategies with others – erika@ynotcam.com
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Erika is a sex positive people watcher (and writer). Email her at erika@ynotcam.com.
