Sex Work versus Trafficking

Sex Work vs. Trafficking: Understanding the Difference

By Melissa Ditmore, RH Reality Check. Posted May 10, 2008.

There are big differences between women trafficked into sexual slavery and voluntary sex workers. So why are we treating them the same?

Even those who mean well sometimes confuse the human rights abuse of trafficking in persons with the human occupation of prostitution, or sex work. It's understandable because of the history of the two fields, but it creates rather than solves problems. Let me try to sort it out here.

The tendency to treat trafficking and prostitution as if they were the same thing has a long and problematic history. Legislation and social discussion have often blurred or denied any difference, but that has always made things worse rather than better for those involved.

The trafficking of women and children into sexual slavery is undeniably a gross abuse of human rights. Like all trafficking, it involves coercion or trickery or both. Sex trafficking is an odious forms of trafficking, but it is far from the only one. Men, women and children are also -- and more commonly -- trafficked routinely for purposes of household and farm labor as well as sweatshop manufacturing. Their lives may be less media-genic than those of sex trafficking victims, but they are no less brutal, dangerous and degraded.

A narrow focus on the single aspect of sex trafficking is often fueled by sensationalist and sometimes salacious accounts of sexual abuse. It leads us to ignore these other forms of trafficking, and so denies help and protection to all the men, women and children forced into and trapped in abusive working situations in other industries.

By the same token, treating sex work as if it is the same as sex trafficking both ignores the realities of sex work and endangers those engaged in it. Sex workers include men and women and transgender persons who offer sexual services in exchange for money. The services may include prostitution (sexual intercourse) and other services such as phone sex. Sex workers engage in this for many reasons, but the key distinction here is that they do it voluntarily. They are not coerced or tricked into staying in the business but have chosen this from among the options available to them.

A key goal of sex worker activists is to improve sex-working conditions, but self-organization is impossible when sex work is regarded as merely another form of slavery. Then authorities and laws trying to stop true slavery -- trafficking -- get misapplied to sex workers, clients and others involved in the sex industry. Law enforcement raids in the U.S. and abroad, for example, have led to little success identifying trafficked persons but instead have driven sex work underground. This exposes sex workers to an increased risk of violence and denies them any protection of laws against assault or access to medical, legal and educational services. It denies them their human rights.

A national anti-trafficking law enacted in 2000 recognizes "severe forms of trafficking" as a modern form of slavery that involves a broad spectrum of workers and industries. In this interpretation, trafficking is clearly distinguished from voluntary sex work and thus avoids the absurdity of equating the fear and suffering of a trafficked person with the typical working conditions of voluntary sex workers. These conditions are often far from ideal, but nevertheless they are far removed from debt bondage or enslavement.

Sex Workers Also Need a Voice

By Debauchette, Alternet

So, I did this interview with Diane Sawyer. It was an anonymous interview in silhouette, with a distorted profile and an altered voice and a few other anonymizing tricks. A few of you already know about this -- one of you said I was identifiable by the way I used the word 'yeah' and the way I touched my hair. Another said I wasn't recognizable at all.

When Sawyer asked why I agreed to speak with her, I said, "I don't know." But I do know. I did it because she asked. It was flattering, if a fucked form of flattery, but I was mostly interested because her perspective stands in diametric opposition to my own. She represents the view of middle America; she works for a family-friendly network with no tolerance for grey area in a subject as inflammatory as sex work. It was clear that there could be only one slant for her documentary, being the old Victorian trope of the broken, dysfunctional, fallen prostitute, incapable of forming her own opinions or making her own decisions (and I find it interesting when self-described feminists reinforce this). A network like ABC wanted Dickensian sex workers and that's precisely what they were going to show. But here I was being given a chance to offer my own take and experience, which runs counter to their thesis, and more specifically, I was being offered the opportunity to sit down and talk with this woman personally.

In reality, Sawyer was much more even-handed than she appeared on-screen, though her questions reflected a set of very backward assumptions. As I said to her then, I knew that one interview wasn't going to change anything, but I was hoping it might make a dent in the assumptions some people have about sex work.

I have strong feelings about that interview. I think they should have spoken with other women who represent my perspective, since I know I'm not alone, as well as with (real) sex worker activists. I also have strong feelings about the general response to that interview, from all sides. I'm mentioning the interview now because last night I learned that my parents tuned in to ABC that fateful day and promptly recognized me, in spite of the silhouette, the altered voice, the distorted profile, the vague and thoroughly dated details. I received an email from my mother saying that she knows. She saw the interview and decided to sit on this knowledge until she could see it again, and then she decided to contact me. What tipped her off exactly, I don't know. Maybe my mannerisms or my tendency to mumble or the few details that were mentioned. Whatever it was, it was clear to her. I'm sure that while she knows nothing about me personally, she can recognize my speaking habits.

And I'm not sure how I feel about this, my parents knowing. I haven't spoken to them. I haven't responded to her email. My father hasn't said or written anything -- I doubt he ever will. I'm stunned, but I'm not ashamed of what I do or what I've done. I feel exposed but I don't feel apologetic. I should feel mortified, but I don't. Instead, I feel like a very private part of my life has been exposed, like they've just caught me in the middle of some sex act. So I suppose I feel awkward. And because I have an especially curious mother who isn't so clear on boundaries, I'm sure she's combing the internet right now to identify every trace of my whorish self. She might be reading this right now.

A few sentence fragments from her note:

"I have to say that it wasn't a complete surprise ... "

"But I was in a state of denial ... "

" ... it explains a lot about many things ... "

"I listened to what you had to say in the interview and I expect you feel you have thought all of this through."

In some ways, I feel the way I felt when I was sitting across from Sawyer. I feel like I can only sigh, because I doubt I can begin to penetrate the many layers of misunderstandings and preconceptions, let alone that relentless working assumption that a woman's value as a human being decreases as she gains sexual experience. (Sawyer asked me about preserving the 'sanctity' of my body, as though sex without the imprimatur of love were inherently degrading.). I'm glad my mother didn't lash out in anger or patent disgust -- what's come across in her note is some mix of restraint, confusion, and extreme discomfort. That deserves some kudos, even if I still feel miles away from having a real conversation with her about this, which, unsurprisingly, is exactly how I felt when I sat down with Diane Sawyer. We just don't see eye to eye.

So, today I was dazed. I went to grab some dim sum with some of New York's fine sex writers (thank you, Viviane) and then spent some time talking with Chelsea as we walked through the Lower East Side. While we were walking, I was thinking how relieved I was to be in such pro-slut company. And later in the day, I saw Gabriel, another blissfully pro-slut individual. He told me to take my clothes off, and this made me smile, which made him smile. While we undressed, I thought about how good this is, even if I have to battle my urge to shut down.

My mother wrote, " ... I expect you feel you've thought this all through," but nothing is thought through. I'm just thinking. And learning. He fucked me over his sofa, the flat of his hand pressing down into my back. I felt him take my hair in his hand before he pulled out to come across my lower back, which splattered in a thick, swerving pattern. After, he took a snapshot of his come against my winter-pale skin. Once he toweled my back down and we both dressed, I took a look. It was a beautiful shot.