Framing the Debate
We are undeniably in an accessible age, whether it’s worldwide news at the tips of our fingers or our favourite TV show being just a streaming site away. It’s brilliantly and alarmingly clear that humans now have access to more than ever before. Again, this is brilliant for all the brilliant reasons but alarming for so many more. A very clear controversial element of this is evident in the “internetification” of pornography, or sites that spin it on its head, like OnlyFans.
The rise of OnlyFans and exclusive content platforms alike is something we’ve all been exposed to whether we wanted to be or not, and its success has sparked conversations that span complete opposite ends of the spectrum. One argument that I see come up several times, with really no middle ground, is whether women in the adult entertainment industry can be considered feminists or not.
Upon consideration, my immediate answer was, “Yes, of course they should be.” However, as I scrolled through the discourse, I found that my opinion was not well-favoured. In fact, it has sparked considerable anger among feminists who feel that simply labelling it as empowering is a step back for women.
While there are compelling arguments on both sides, it’s important to address the information fairly and make a well-informed conclusion of your own.
Defining Empowerment & Agency
To vehemently defend either end of the argument, it’s important to ask: What exactly constitutes female empowerment and agency? While the Cambridge Dictionary defines empowerment as “the process of gaining freedom and power to do what you want or to control what happens to you” and agency as “the ability to take action or to choose what action to take,” these concepts can’t be confined to a simple, linear framework in feminism. Ultimately, it’s this ambiguity that fuels disparity among feminists.
For example, sex-positive feminism argues that owning and expressing your sexuality without shame is the ultimate form of agency and that empowerment means having bodily autonomy, which is the freedom to choose without judgment what you do with your body.
Meanwhile, French existentialist philosopher, writer, and feminist Simone de Beauvoir framed empowerment as individual self-creation, breaking free from society’s boxes to define who you are. She famously stated in The Second Sex, “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman,” underscoring her belief that femininity, including sexual objectification, is a societal construct.
Unpacking Feminist Critiques
Simone de Beauvoir’s existentialist feminism consistently asserts that women must resist being defined by patriarchal norms and instead create their own meaning. Her ideas resonate in the discourse surrounding women in the adult entertainment industry, where the prevailing consensus appears to be that women are trapped by rules that prioritize and cater to male desires. Their work is defined within patriarchal confines, as the explicit content they produce is specifically tailored for male viewing and ultimately framed through a male gaze.
Continuing this line of thinking, a central argument in this debate is the fact that there is a lot of commodification and adherence to the male gaze in content that essentially prioritizes sexualizing women for men, which undermines feminist ideals.
This argument also extends into pornography and/or sex work, as radical feminists have long contended that both are inherently oppressive as they reduce women to mere objects for male consumption.
An example of this is the anti-pornography civil rights ordinance proposed by radical feminists Andrea Dworkin and Catharine MacKinnon, which aimed to treat pornography as a violation of women’s civil rights and allow women harmed by it to seek damages through civil lawsuits. Their argument consisted of pornography being deeply entrenched in male dominance as an eroticized form of women’s subordination. The idea was that women who chose this line of work were still performing roles defined by male desire rather than engaging in authentic self-creation.
Additionally, there is much criticism regarding the fact that substantial profits are being earned from systems that operate in prioritizing male pleasure over women’s well-being. This perspective aligns more with the idea of materialist feminism as it speaks to capitalism + patriarchy = exploitation.
Even with liberal feminism, which typically advocates for individual agency, there is an economic trench in choices made. The adult entertainment industry is constrained by systemic inequalities, and this culture is often shaped by male expectations that pressure women to conform to hypersexual norms, perpetuating male entitlement that ultimately harms female dignity.
My Initial Argument: Why I Said “Yes”
Prior to really delving into the research, my standing in this debate was that women utilizing platforms like OnlyFans have access to creative freedom over the kind of content they are making, the pricing, and the audience interactions. All this being a stark contrast to the traditional porn industries.
Additionally, creators are cognizant of the fact that sex sells, and so they enter into the industry knowing that their audience is predominantly male. But ultimately, they have the upper hand as they profit greatly from this awareness. This can then transcend traditional industry standards set in place for female sex workers.
Furthermore, the notion of disrupting the male gaze can be attainable through platforms like this as creators can delve into new content that centers female desire and diverts power from sexual acts being solely catered to male viewers.
Critiques: Why My “Yes” Had Faults
As much as I still align with certain aspects of my original opinion on this subject, I’ve realized there are compelling critiques highlighting how these very actions can reinforce existing patriarchal structures.
For one, profiting does not erase the fact that the industry’s demands are rooted in the commodification of women’s bodies. Creators can be aware of the industry’s dynamics; however, it still remains apparent that the demand for their labour is shaped by pre-existing power structures, where profit is derived from conforming to ideals of desire and worth, ideals often defined by and for men. This notion aligns with the idea that awareness doesn’t neutralize exploitation and that this industry is, unfortunately, built on a foundation of expectations about women’s bodies, desires, and self-worth, all filtered through a male lens.
Despite the freedom over content creation, OnlyFans’ top earners overwhelmingly cater to male consumers. Realistically, algorithms and profit incentives push creators toward content that aligns with patriarchal norms, whether that be the hypersexualization of women or male-catered fetishization. While some disrupt typical female norms (disabled creators, queer creators, transgender performers, plus-size performers), these creators operate within a niche. The platform’s mainstream economy is still derived from traditional porn dynamics that center on male desire and pleasure, often at the expense of women.
Lastly, a central critique of this argument is the paradox that can exist in “choice feminism.” Essentially, this entails that liberal feminist ideology can often reduce feminism to any individual act that a woman undertakes, even if those choices are influenced by and help maintain oppressive systems. Treating any decision a woman makes as an act of feminism simply because she chose it can confuse personal independence with true freedom. This approach can, therefore, often ignore systemic patriarchy and limit real choices, reducing feminism to individual empowerment instead of working together to dismantle structural inequality.
For example, if a woman were to follow hypersexual norms on OnlyFans, that choice would not question or break the system that expects such behaviour from women; it would merely address her individual situation while leaving the oppressive system in place.
Feminism Is Not Monolithic, So Why Is This Debate?
My goal with this article is not to suggest that women in the industry aren’t feminists or that their choices are inherently wrong. I believe that whether a woman enters the industry through economic necessity, personal empowerment, or self-expression, her decision is valid, even if it doesn’t align perfectly with every existing feminist ideology.
Feminism is not a monolith. If anything, this is apparent in the various movements that exist, some with shortcomings and others holding great merit. Whether it be from second-wave feminism, which was heavily critiqued for centring on the rights of the majority, specifically middle-class white women, to more recent movements like intersectional feminism and grassroots feminism that aim to address the needs of all women, there are many facets and beliefs within the broader feminist conversation. Evidently, it’s virtually impossible to please all feminist ideologies, as there isn’t a shared consensus aside from striving for equality between men and women.
It’s for that reason that I don’t think that feminism as a whole can answer the question of whether all women in the industry are feminists or not. No single movement can account for every experience or story, and it’s important to recognize that women working in the industry come from diverse backgrounds. Some have become sex workers out of exploitation or necessity, while others choose it with full awareness of what it entails. Neither circumstance should be judged as inherently right or wrong because the industry’s nuances, progression, and current state are constantly evolving. The goals, conversations, and complications that arise from them are always changing, and trying to view them through one broad lens in search of a linear answer is both unfair and unrealistic.
If anything, seeing how varied these experiences can be should not be considered a complication for feminist discourse but should rather serve as a testament to its strength. The plethora of reasons why women engage in sex work demonstrates that empowerment is inherently multifaceted, dynamic, and personalized to each individual’s journey. This diversity enriches our understanding of what it truly means to have agency, honouring the legacy of the women who came before us.
I can’t ask you to change your mind if you hold a very linear viewpoint on this matter, but I can implore you to embrace the depth and diversity that comes from female experiences. There are very few female experiences that can be looked at through one lens, especially when we live in a world that favours the hegemonic male experience.
There is so much to be said about female stories and experiences, and even though what I’m discussing is controversial, it doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to follow a homogeneous approach. It doesn’t have to be singular. It can be multifaceted, layered, and compelling all at once.