Sarah Harte: Debate on choking shows sex positivity is just patriarchy with better PR

Non-fatal strangulation is being sold as female empowerment, but when you read about the potentially fatal dangers attached to being choked, it’s hard not to think embracing this practice as a feminist is like turkeys voting for Christmas

We’re allowing choking to be sold as a safe sexual practice because, make no mistake, money is being made from this, when all the research strongly says it never is.

I was on a panel when the topic of sex positivity came up. A frisson ran through the room. Let’s say there were opposing views on the subject, as there are online.

At its core, sex positivity is about openness to a variety of sexual interests, expressions and orientations. What’s not to like, maybe you think?

Certainly, there’s reluctance in certain quarters to critique new forms of sexual expression, even when technology is quietly reshaping human intimacy.

Most people would welcome the aspect of sex positivity that is keen to close the door on sexual shame, particularly where women are concerned.

Simply and only teaching your daughters to refuse unwanted advances, for example, rather than also messaging that sex is a natural part of life, is grimly narrow.

Yet some people believe sex positivity is not as straightforward as it would seem. Rather, sex positivity in some of its forms is the newest iteration of the patriarchy, coming up with ever more inventive ways to lure women into doing what men want.

There’s a particular concern about the messages surrounding sex being sent to young men and women by technology and the porn industry.

Experts, from campaigners to doctors to teachers, have warned us we are de facto allowing tech companies to educate young people, including children, about sex.

The Irish Medical Organisation issued a warning last year about the profound impact on both young men and women of learning about sex from violent pornography. This includes choking, what they term "normalised coercion", and condomless sex and sex that "frequently disregards female pain and discomfort to satisfy male partners". 

I’ve seen at least two articles where GPs have issued warnings over the last year about "rough sex" and its consequences for women, including in the Irish Examiner. Young women are facing serious physical injuries, including incontinence, due to sexual acts by partners copying things they have seen in pornography.

Can these warnings simply be glossed over?

To take just one example, choking, or what is called non-fatal sexual strangulation, is a real concern. On Friday, the SERP Institute (the Sexual Exploitation Research and Policy Institute) tagged me in a LinkedIn post.

The post from Ruth Breslin, director of SERP, points out "there is no safe way to strangle someone", but with social media feeds awash with misinformation on "safe way to choke", many young people don’t understand the dangers.

The post includes a clip from a Sky News report from last week showing clips about young women wearing necklaces, or what are called "choke chains", some with love hearts dangling from the end. These choke chains, it is argued, glamorise and normalise strangulation.

There has been some interesting commentary on female sexual autonomy and what that might look like in the context of the recent Cornell University alleged gang-rape case.

One article in the New Yorker is headlined "one of the biggest failures of the post #MeToo moment is our collective inability to provide a confident, humane account of sex as a basic good". 

The plaintiff in the Cornell case alleges seven frat boys sexually assaulted her when she was drunk and drugged. One of the seven men messaged 50 other men: "free pussy". It should be noted the Cornell case raises questions about differences between the original police statement and the civil lawsuit filed last month. None of the men has been criminally charged.

Nonetheless, the messaging by the frat boys on Snapchat exposed a culture that is hard to ignore.

The logic behind banning depictions of non-fatal strangulation doesn’t mean condemning every unconventional desire. It’s an attempt to grapple with porn shaping what people, and in particular young people, think a healthy relationship looks like.

Anahid Nersessian in the New Yorker article argues the alleged assault was about power and humiliation, not sexual pleasure. Professor Caroline Fennell at UCC taught our law class that rape was never about sex; it was an expression of power.

She writes about how society and feminism are divided over sexual freedom and protection. They are, and that’s part of the sex-positive debate.

She argues it’s paternalistic to dictate what desires are acceptable to women, rather than defending women’s autonomy and their right to refuse. Society still struggles to approach sex in an honest way that recognises female autonomy and sexual pleasure.

So, when the plaintiff in the Cornell case is denigrated because she had previously been interested in a threesome, her sexual openness was treated as evidence of presumed consent.

A woman’s willingness to explore her sexuality clearly does not imply consent to rape.

Nersessian argues sexual freedom must never be confused with sexual availability. Why, she asks, should society celebrate male sexual conquest while punishing women for exercising sexual autonomy?

There is a question, though, about just what is being sold as female sexual autonomy. A friend directed me to a young female writer on Instagram and Substack who explores feminism, girlhood, and the quiet way patriarchy shapes women’s inner lives.

Paris Mwendwa is sick of the idea that refusing to be choked on a first date or any date is evidence that she is right-wing or puritanical. She refutes the idea wanting to be choked is evidence of being sexually liberated. She speaks about how being "pro-kink" has become a social norm, making it harder for women to lay down sexual boundaries.

She also points out how the pro-kink, "don’t lay down any boundaries" mindset is, in fact, a different version of patriarchal control of women’s bodies.

Such is the concern about the depiction of non-fatal strangulation in pornography that, from early next month, it will be banned in England and Wales.

Government has given its approval for justice minister Jim O’Callaghan to draft legislation to criminalise the possession, production and distribution of extreme or violent pornography to address a significant gap in Irish law, which is a welcome development.

But not everything can be left to politicians. Most people wouldn’t care what consenting adults do, provided they aren’t endangering someone else, and have little appetite or time for peering over a privet hedge at the neighbours.

The logic behind banning depiction of non-fatal strangulation doesn’t mean condemning every unconventional desire. It’s an attempt to grapple with porn shaping what people, and in particular young people, think a healthy relationship looks like.

The message of sex positivity has merit. Yet sometimes it’s expressed in a simplistic, glib and frankly naive way.

When you read about the real, potentially fatal dangers attached to being choked, it’s hard not to think embracing this practice as a feminist is like turkeys voting for Christmas.

We’re allowing choking to be sold as a safe sexual practice because, make no mistake, money is being made from this, when all the research strongly says it never is. Of course, young women are more likely to report having been strangled by a male partner.

Is choking really empowerment? Or are aspects of sex positivity simply patriarchy with better PR? It feels like the same old expectations repackaged as liberation, and a very dangerous kind of one at that.