Women Have A Porn Problem

Face-out on the featured shelf sat titles like Game Changer, a "spicy" romance full of on-page same-sex sex scenes, and Priest, about a Catholic priest who works through his crisis of faith in graphic, BDSM-tinged detail. As I scanned the pharmacy section, next to the feminine care products sat a Rose toy, a popular solo sex toy among women. I wondered as I pushed my daughter in the cart, “When did solo sex become so public?”

Porn usage has historically been tied to men. The industry has typically catered to men and their visual nature. From Playboy to PornHub, the majority of explicit material has always been produced for a male audience. Viewing porn is seen as a sort of a rite of passage for men in Western society and has thus made it a somewhat normalized activity. Though normalized, there still exists some built-in shame around the action. It is at least something that many people would describe as something done within the privacy of their own home, and certainly not proudly displayed in the aisles at Target. I imagine the outrage that would ensue if Playboy and male sex toys were on display on Target instead of products marketed to women.

The habit of women viewing porn is not something we talk about with any amount of concern; our society today is far more interested in the practice of women creating porn at much higher rates due to OnlyFans. OnlyFans has changed the porn game and sold itself as a sort of “ethical alternative” to the classic leather couch, casting agent model. Though increasingly popular, society for the most part recognizes the degeneracy in porn creation for women. But what about the consumption of it? It seems as though we've created a different standard for women when it comes to the taboos of porn use. “Spicy” novels featuring graphic sexual scenes have exploded in popularity thanks to “BookTok,” and romance and fantasy novels constantly dominate bestseller lists among female readers.

I imagine the outrage that would ensue if Playboy and male sex toys were on display on Target instead of products marketed to women.

This rising popularity of reading “smut” literature seems to also translate to watching pornography. Though men outnumber women by almost double for porn viewership, women’s share of pornography consumption has steadily increased year after year. Violence toward women is common in porn: upwards of 88% of porn features this sort of aggression. A 2021 survey found that though both men and women reported not enjoying violent porn, women were more likely to seek out aggressive porn and want more aggression in porn. As with many addictive behaviors, once the initial high wears off, more extreme versions are required for a similar effect. Similarly, while popular romance novels may be enough at first, more extreme material may be required as time goes on to produce the same level of stimulation. Novels such as Morning Glory Milking Farm which feature a woman and a cow “monster” have more than 25,000 reviews and are a part of a series featuring monster lovers. 

One of the most significant changes is not simply that women are consuming pornography more often, but that porn has changed its form to appeal to them. Instead of dirty magazines or explicit, secret websites, it's packaged as empowerment, self-discovery, or even literature. Graphic sexual content is increasingly marketed through bestselling novels, social media recommendations, and mainstream retailers. The medium has changed, but the effect is similar. If we recognize that pornography can distort men’s expectations of women and relationships, we should be equally willing to ask whether increasingly explicit sexual entertainment distorts women’s expectations as well.

Consuming porn was normal in the atheist, progressive circles I ran in. I would frequently see social media influencers advertise sex toys, TV shows would make light of porn consumption for women, and the topic within my friend group was far from taboo. Favorite porn categories were discussed with the same casualness as a favorite restaurant or yoga studio. In relationships, porn use was accepted and encouraged among partners. A sort of comorbidity of degenerate behaviors existed. When promiscuity or challenging sexual boundaries was practiced, often other sexual deviations were as well. 

If we recognize that pornography can distort men’s expectations of women and relationships, we should be equally willing to ask whether increasingly explicit sexual entertainment distorts women’s expectations as well.

When there is no standard for sexual behaviors outside of consent, anything goes. This includes sexual behaviors one engages with the self. Who’s to say that a certain porn category is disordered if all parties involved in creating it consented? This is the logic of progressives: consent is the only thing that matters. Sexual activity is not sacred; it is commodified. Sexual ethics ultimately becomes an appeal to one’s own preferences. Someone may find one genre of porn demeaning and another empowering. In a world where we don’t have an objective ethical framework for what is ordered within sexual activities, it all boils down to individual preference. With this ethical framework, there’s no reason not to adopt “monster smut” as a normal sexual preference. 

Healthy shame is an antidote to the public acceptance of such degeneracy. Books featuring BDSM and graphic sexual scenes shouldn’t be displayed next to the self-help books at your local Target. Society needs to talk honestly about women’s sexual habits. A healthy culture should not normalize vice simply because it’s marketed differently or aimed at a different audience. Rather than treating every sexual appetite as something to celebrate, we should recover a culture that prizes modesty, self-control, and honesty about the ways our habits shape our character and society. It's time public vice be replaced with public virtue.