Knowledge runs down.

“Internet Porn” is a chapter from Emily Witt’s 2016 book, Future Sex. I skipped straight over chapters “Expectations,” “Internet dating,” and “Orgasmic meditation” to get to the juicy stuff.

Andrea Long Chu’s chapter on sissy porn in Females has sent me scurrying to my TBR list for any mention of porn. Future Sex is my first stop on a perusal of feminist writings on porn.

And I don’t get it. The essay was primarily filled with “neutral,” journalistic, and sterile observation of porn performances. And there was the sudden but unsurprising reveal that the author thinks porn is ick… followed by the sudden and surprising reveal that she did watch porn after all. And, in fact, that she found some measure of liberation, autonomy, and self-knowledge by its consumption.

This is a woman who got to witness first-hand one of my favorite all-time porns, and she is mute and flaccid in the scene. The writing says, “Wow, look at how freaky this is – can you believe I got to see it, and can you believe that I’m not being judgmental?”

The moments of self-reflection shone amidst lame-ass descriptions of fantastical moments in porn.

“I had once thought of porn as a male-dominated force that standardized sexual expectations, and that it therefore imposed its will on my sexuality, but I saw that porn defied standardization” (p. 102). #Glitch, anyone? See also:

”Porn united all the possibilities, including the ones we didn’t want to have” (p. 72).

After seeing how specific some fetishes are, Emily writes, “In looking through all this I found unexpected reassurance that somebody will always want to have sex with me.” (I have also had this feeling after getting deep into porn, although the diversity of bodies represented is much greater in kinkier videos compared to the more mainstream categories of “blowjobs” or “hot coeds.”

Witt also fails to discuss the lack of racial diversity and the major ick factor of how Black women and other brown women are cast as exotic conquests.

How does the fact of their race and the history of oppressing and raping Black women come into play when Black and brown women play the same roles of being gangbanged, in bondage, and the like? I will need to go to another author for that investigation.

Emily’s most intriguing observation: “Porn made by women tended to be a little more bizarre” (p. 103). I love that! Why do you think, Emily? Do you have any hypotheses? Did you do a statistical analysis to investigate this observation? Do any of the porn actors you interviewed agree?

Another intriguing concept that got a drive-by mention but no depth:
I did not want to be turned on by sex that was not the kind of sex I wanted to have” (p. 101). Ooooooooooh. Relatable! Fantasy does not have to be something you want to realize! Dr. Doe’s YouTube channel taught me that when I was in college, and it’s something I would love to read more about.

Emily almost ends with a direct assessment of what she learned from watching porn:

”Porn taught me that the feminine expression of sexuality ddi not have to be a dildo in the shape of a dolphin to shed the vestiges of the patriarchy. It gave me an internal answer to the accusation of false consciousness that accompanied so much expression of sexuality by a woman. I knew I wasn’t trying to inhabit the masculine if the force that guided my sexual decisions came from a physical feeling in my body. Figuring out what I liked in porn was like having my fortune told. It wasn’t real, but it offered orientation” (p. 106-107).

Instead, she adds yet another disassociated description of a Princess Donna scene where a woman dressed like a baby doll is gangbanged by mute pandas. Emily’s final note: Look at the crazy shit going on in porn world.

It’s entirely likely I’m missing the nuance in her writing, but I would rather read about kink and porn from someone on the inside of those communities.

Love and porn that’s good for the soul,
Jordie