Introduction
The politics of prostitution traditionally ‘denies those who are involved . . . the ability to express their opinion about the policies that directly concern and affect them’ (Mathieu, Reference Matthieu2003: 29). Yet, through the Sex Work Movement, sex workers have come together to demand enhanced living conditions, legal protection, human and labour rights, an end to criminalisation, and a reduction in stigma, amongst other goals (Kempadoo and Doezema, Reference Kempadoo and Doezema1998; Mathieu, Reference Matthieu2003; Lopes, Reference Lopes, Campbell and O’Neill2006; Gall, Reference Gall2006, Reference Gall2010; Sanders et al, Reference Sanders, O’Neill and Pitcher2009; Hardy, Reference Hardy, Hardy, Kingston and Sanders2010a, Reference Hardyb). However, little is known about men who pay for sex and their involvement in such actions. This article explores how some male clients respond to sex work policy. A cultural studies approach is useful as it recognises that the sex industry does not operate in a vacuum, and is in fact mediated by a wider range of cultural practices, including the political context and responses to this.
Traditionally, male clients have been absent from sex work policy, with (female) sex workers bearing the brunt of regulation. However, the rise in anti-trafficking ideology which conflates sex work with sex trafficking, and the increase of radical feminist influence in sex work policy, have been associated with negative cultural representations of selling and paying for sex, and a number of policy shifts (Sanders and Campbell, Reference Sanders, Campbell and Munro2008). Despite unreliableFootnote 1 claims by some anti-prostitution campaigners who present ‘questionable statistics and anecdotal horror stories as evidence of a worldwide epidemic of coerced prostitution’, their principles have been incorporated into global commercial sex policy debates (Weitzer, Reference Weitzer2007: 647). UK legislative shifts are based upon a logic which views all men who pay for sex as sexual exploiters and abusers of women who sell sex (Kingston, Reference Kingston, Hardy, Kingston and Sanders2010: 34).
In 2004, the government announced a review of the prostitution laws, as they were outdated, confused and ineffective. This review, Paying the Price (Home Office, 2004), constructed prostitution as a social problem destroying the lives of individuals and threatening communities (Phoenix and Oerton, Reference Phoenix and Oerton2005). The subsequent Coordinated Prostitution Strategy (Home Office, 2006) focused on five areas: prevention, ways out, ensuring justice, tackling off-street prostitution and tackling demand. Its emphasis was on disrupting sex markets by criminalising sex workers and enforcing laws on clients (Sanders, Reference Sanders2008). A review focusing on Tackling the Demand (Home Office, 2008)Footnote 2 was undertaken, and as a result Section 14 of the Policing and Crime Act 2009 (PCA) became the first piece of UK legislation to criminalise the purchase of sex from someone who has been coerced (see Kingston and Thomas, Reference Kingston and Thomas2014). This is a strict liability offence; the client need not know they were breaking the law, offenders are dealt with in a Magistrates Court without a jury and the maximum fine is currently £1,000. However, there is evidence that criminalisation does not protect sex workers, or deter clients (see Brooks-Gordon, Reference Brooks-Gordon2010). The focus on crime, disorder and protectionism, coupled globally with a ‘moral crusade’ against sex trafficking means the employment experiences of workers are not considered (Weitzer, Reference Weitzer2007; Colosi, Reference Colosi2013; Jackson, Reference Jackson2013) and clients’ voices are also absent from policy debates. Set against this backdrop of increased regulation, this article demonstrates how some men who pay for sex respond to increased regulation.
The study
This study used interviews conducted face to face, via the phone or using MSN instant messenger, with thirty-five men who pay for sex with women in the UK. Participants were recruited using a local newspaper and commercial sex websites.Footnote 3 The aim was to explore the sexual and relationship experiences of clients. Questions explored participants’ involvement in paid-for-sex, their non-commercial relationships and sexual biographies, their relationships with sex workers, and their views on the sex industry. Due to the semi-structured and conversational approach, discussions around policy or interacting with clients which were not part of the initial focus were raised by participants during early interviews.Footnote 4 Specific questions were then incorporated into subsequent interviews. The interviews took place during the Tackling the Demand (Home Office, 2008) review and the trial of Steve Wright, who murdered five sex workers. Consequently, clients encountered sustained negative media and political attention. The men were aged between twenty-nine and sixty-nine and twenty-two were married or partnered. All participants were white British, except for one who was black British. Their activities were directed towards sexual services at off street locations.
Sex work, social movements and collective identity
‘A social movement is a network of informal interactions between a plurality of individuals, groups and/or organizations engaged in political or cultural conflict, on the basis of a shared collective identity’ (Diani, Reference Diani1992: 13). Those involved in the sex industry are constructed as different to others (see Hammond and Kingston, Reference Hammond and Kingston2014) and are stigmatised (see Goffman, Reference Goffman1968: 13–14). Sex workers suffer disproportionate violence and discrimination and have been the most affected by adverse legislation or poor and unethical research; unsurprisingly they have led the Sex Work Movement (Ditmore, Reference Ditmore, Ditmore, Levy and Willman2010). Their shared identity brings them together to develop networks, to reject criminalisation and to advocate for enhanced labour rights. Their activity is also concerned with seeking legitimacy, addressing intolerance and reducing stigma through reframing identities around work (see Crago, Reference Crago2008).
Sex worker organising has taken many forms, such as protests and conferences, and the formation of collectives, unions and organisations (Kempadoo and Doezema, Reference Kempadoo and Doezema1998; Crago, Reference Crago2008; Ditmore et al., Reference Ditmore, Levy and Willman2010). At a local level, achievements include enhancing sex worker self image, empowerment, health improvements, enhanced safety, community building, development of good relations with the police and successful challenges to legislation (Kempadoo and Doezema, Reference Kempadoo and Doezema1998; Crago, Reference Crago2008; Sanders et al., Reference Sanders, O’Neill and Pitcher2009; Hardy Reference Hardy2010b; Jackson, Reference Jackson2013). Sex worker organisations are active internationally; the Network of Sex Work Projects (NSWP) successfully lobbied UNAIDS to reconsider its 2007 policy guidelines on HIV and sex work. More recently, the International Committee on the Rights of Sex Workers in Europe (ICRSE) has launched an advocacy and activism tool kit, Hands off our clients (ICRSE, 2013), due to concerns about criminalising paying for sex. Stigma and discrimination also affects clients (see Sanders, Reference Sanders2008), yet their experiences and practices have remained absent. I suggest some male clients’ experiences of stigma and discrimination are similar to those highlighted by the Sex Work Movement. Whilst not arguing that clients are overtly contributing towards the current Sex Work Movement, Diani's framework helps to make sense of how men who pay for sex in the UK negotiate the client identity and respond to increased regulation. Considering current calls to criminalise clients, knowledge surrounding such practices is essential.
Men who pay for sex a social movement?
Conflict and collectivity
To be considered a social movement, an interactive collectivity requires a sense of belonging, a set of shared beliefs, or a group identity (Diani, Reference Diani1992: 8). Identity offers a sense of belonging, providing a personal location in the world (Weeks, Reference Weeks1991). Processes of identification are based on similarity and difference; to understand our place in the world requires a sense of ‘us’, similarity, which requires difference, as recognising similarity admits difference (see Jenkins, Reference Jenkins2008). Men who pay for sex are categorised as different to other men, and this difference is socially constructed as deviant. Female sex workers have historically experienced the ‘whore stigma’ (Pheterson, Reference Pheterson1993), whereas clients are only recently becoming increasingly stigmatised. Campaigns targeting clients use slogans such as ‘Walk in a punter, walk out a rapist’ (see Sanders and Campbell, Reference Sanders, Campbell and Munro2008; Kingston, Reference Kingston, Hardy, Kingston and Sanders2010). Clients are often labelled as ‘prostitute users’, ‘fuelling the demand for sex trafficking’, abusive, immoral, unacceptable, deviant, dirty, animalistic and dehumanised, and as socially and sexually inadequate (Campbell and Storr, Reference Campbell and Storr2001; Home Office 2004, 2008; Sanders, Reference Sanders2008; Kingston, Reference Kingston, Hardy, Kingston and Sanders2010).
Men who took part in this study also claimed that public and political perceptions of sex workers as ‘poor, abused, desperate junkies . . . earning . . . crack’ and clients as ‘terrible, abusive, paedophile, murdering bastards . . . seeking their next victim’ (Joe, 56),Footnote 5 were inaccurate. Institutionalised discourses, for example political debates and proposed state sanctions, were perceived to be distorted, biased, frightening and a poor representation of the industry generating ‘misunderstanding and . . . stereotyping’ (Matt, 58). Participants argued that the media and political focus on ‘the street scene’ (Felix, 33) make it challenging ‘to get an honest appraisal of what goes on’ (Oliver, 63). Lopes (Reference Lopes, Campbell and O’Neill2006) reveals how sex workers feel the public have a distorted view of their work. Similarly, for these men, what is challenged is socially shared meanings, the ways of defining and interpreting reality (Diani, Reference Diani1992: 10). Consequently, there is conflict between participants’ perceptions of their client identity and external perceptions:
I experience myself as fairly normal, but I can believe that other people that I work with would think ‘Jesus Christ . . . what kind of a weirdo is this guy?’ . . . maybe it is completely weird for someone to do what I do . . . I don't see the kind of sexual acts that I engage in as kind of as being any way deviant, you know they’re pretty bloody mainstream. (John, 40)
Conflict is a feature of a social movements, however conflict can be understood in many ways such as challenging systemic domination, any sort of protest event, or collective action geared towards cultural change or a focus on the political sphere (Diani, Reference Diani1992). Diani (Reference Diani1992) argues that conflicts arise in areas previously considered the private sphere. In the past commercial sex was seen as ‘a public nuisance [yet] a matter of private morality’ (Phoenix and Oerton, Reference Phoenix and Oerton2005: 85), but recent shifts in legislation have resulted in increased criminalisation, and policy has homogenised with little recognition of the spectrum of the sex industry despite clear and well-documented differences (Sanders, Reference Sanders2008; Weitzer, Reference Weitzer2012; Colosi, Reference Colosi2013). Evidence suggests that clients are aware of exploitation and may direct their practices to avoid such situations (see Sanders, Reference Sanders2008). Participants recognised this darker side where ‘the girls are pimped’, and ‘exploitation’ and an ‘undercurrent of violence’ exist. However, they distanced themselves from such practices: ‘I wouldn't feel comfortable with the girls on the street level personally, I would never go there’ (Alan, 57); ‘Trafficking women from third world countries, well its wrong, it's disgusting’ (Jack, 56); ‘Forcing the girl to do anything that they don't want to, it's not right, it's not acceptable’ (Mark, 48). Some participants constructed the client identity around notions of similarity with other respectful and reasonable clients: ‘I think most guys are appalled with the idea of people being enslaved or trafficked’ (Oliver, 63). As the Sex Work Movement has developed a sex worker collective identity around sex work as work, challenging the conflation of sex work with trafficking and addressing stigma and discrimination (see Ditmore et al., Reference Ditmore, Ditmore, Levy and Willman2010; ICRSE, 2013), participants’ narratives reveal how some clients are also constructing a collective client identity in opposition to representations within cultural and political discourses. The notion of a shared collective identity requires interaction; online spaces provide such an opportunity.
Networks and Informal Interactions
Computer mediated technologies have reshaped, repackaged and expanded the spectrum of the sexual services industry (Sanders, Reference Sanders2008). The internet offers anonymity to buyer and seller, providing the opportunity to ‘communicate, gain information and purchase products’ (Castle and Lee, Reference Castle and Lee2008: 188). There are numerous websites for those involved in the sex industry,Footnote 6 for example, PunterNet offers men a space for ‘sexual storytelling in which sexual experiences can become both socially organized and, crucially enmeshed in collectively evolved norms’ (Earle and Sharp, Reference Earle, Sharp and Holland2008: 269; see also Sanders, Reference Sanders, Campbell and Munro2008; Pettinger, Reference Pettinger2014). Clients are not required to define their identity around negative stereotypes or stigmatised labels online, instead the client identity and paying for sex are (re)constructed as non-deviant (Blevins and Holt, Reference Blevins and Holt2009). Solidarity can be generated and enhanced through interaction as likeminded people find each other via online networks (Hara and Estrada, Reference Hara and Estrada2005; DeSouza and Dutta, Reference DeSouza and Jyoti Dutta2008). This can be seen between clients who interact online:
[communicating via the message boards is] chat with likeminded people . . . some other punters have said to me that it's very important to have this sense that they are not alone, that there are others out there, there are people with whom you can talk about these things . . . It's like the equivalent of going down to the pub for a drink and a chat for half an hour to go on the message board. (Martin, 55)
For marginalised groups, the internet can provide opportunities to legitimise their existence, and it can be a medium through which identity support is provided as group members seek to disentangle themselves from negative stereotypes and look after their own kind (Lamont and Molnar, Reference Lamont and Molnar2002; Hara and Huang, Reference Hara and Huang2011). Participants discussed how via online interactions they would ‘Help each other out with tips’ (Felix, 33), or draw on others’ experiences by having a ‘browse through, read what other people say and what the recommendations say . . . and read the field report’. Interactions vary from ‘meeting’ anonymously online, to developing tightly clustered networks (see Diani, Reference Diani1992: 7). Some men engaged in prolonged interactions with other clients: ‘I’ve got a pen friend off PunterNet. We’re both anonymous to each other and we swap our experiences and who to visit’ (Huw, 47); ‘you end up building email relationships with several guys’ (Paul, 64). The boundaries between online and offline blur as clients meet together: ‘About once a year, there will be some sort of select gathering where a few trusted punters might get together for a drink and a meal with some working girls. Just to compare notes about our outsider subculture and have a bit of a laugh’ (Tom, 64). Matt (58) described a sense of ‘community’ on a message board: ‘We have a social life and, so we can meet and have a drink and a chat or a meal and a chat as a group of people who all happen to be involved in commercial sex’. Ben (61) described another message board run by one of the sex workers he regularly visits: ‘She has social events and I’ve been to a couple. I’ve met a lot of the ladies, a lot of the other gentlemen on the board. In fact there's one that lives in France and . . . next month . . . I’ll be stopping with him.’ Solidarity and collectivity are reflected in the moral order in which paying for sex is located, allowing clients to ‘benchmark’ or provide a set of standards and expectations of how men should behave when performing the client identity (Sanders, Reference Sanders2008), as Joe (56) explains:
In my experience, which is very limited, and from speaking to the people on PunterNet I’d expect that a great many of them would be very much like me. Quite well educated, articulate, quite moral people who’d be straight down the nick [police station] to report any. You only have to look at the front page of PunterNet and it says this site will cooperate fully with the police in any incident of underage or trafficked women.
The shared collective client identity forms the basis of informal interactions and is inseparable from the development of these networks. Such networks contribute to the preconditions for mobilisation and provide a setting for the elaboration of a specific world view or life style (Diani, Reference Diani1992). Evidence suggests that some clients and sex workers seek to produce a ‘collective responsible environment where cultural constructions are positively formed around sex work as work’ (Sanders and Campbell, Reference Sanders and Campbell2007: 16). In response to conflations with trafficking and violence, participants told their stories of paid-for sex through the language of labour and consumption, enabling identities to be formulated around clients as consumers and not ‘users’ of ‘prostituted women’. This discussion has documented how, based on the rejection of cultural and political representations of the client figure, clients come together to form networks via informal interactions online. They share a number of grievances around the stigmatisation and increased regulation of paid for sex, similar to those raised by the Sex Work Movement.
Collective action: telling sexual stories
The notion of participation has become increasingly popular within policy developments over recent years (see Bochel et al., Reference Bochel, Bochel, Somerville and Worley2008), stemming from a desire to increase the legitimacy of decision making and responsiveness of services, and as a response to those who seek to have a say in issues that affect their lives (Barnes et al., Reference Barnes, Newman and Sullivan2004). Those who engage in the sex industry are silenced, yet ‘“finding a voice” and “telling one's story” has been well recognised in the politics of new social movements’ (Plummer, Reference Plummer1995: 30). Diani (Reference Diani1992) claims that for some theorists the fundamental difference between movements and other social political actors is found in the contrast between conventional styles of political participation (voting, lobbying political representatives) and public protest. However, protest plays only a marginal role in movements orientated toward cultural change (1992: 12). The stigma attached to sex work constrains sex workers from becoming political actors (Lopes, Reference Lopes, Campbell and O’Neill2006; Hardy, Reference Hardy, Hardy, Kingston and Sanders2010a; Sanders et al., Reference Sanders, Hardy and Campbell2014). Similarly, men in this study discussed the barriers to participating in sex work policy debates in terms of stigma and lack of legitimacy:
No punter's in a position to put his head up and say hold on a minute, this is not . . . You’ve got Harriet Harman saying there's 100s, over 100,000 trafficked girls working in the UK, which is total nonsense. But because somebody is in a position of authority is saying stuff like that, people believe it. (Oliver, 63)
You get so many flip . . . remarks cos they think that is the expected attitude about it or they think that's what people who do it must be like, and very few people are going to stand up and argue in the middle of the pub or dinner party and start telling people what it's really like. (Paul, 64)
There are so many false ideas about it and there are disturbing reports as to what might be the nature of future legislation in the area. So much of what gets said on the subject is so completely wrong . . . The ladies do not conform to the standard stereotypes. And I suspect that we don't either . . . it is in the interest of truth that . . . I have taken part in this. (Martin, 55)
Some interviewees saw participation in this research as a form of mobilisation by providing a ‘meaningful contribution’, a ‘balanced view’, a ‘real slant on things’. As the Sex Work Movement has sought change based on the reframing of identity, male clients have engaged in similar processes, seeking to challenge stereotypes and raise awareness ‘of what the commercial sex world is actually about’. Taking part was thought to be part of this: ‘The conclusions would be useful for police, academics and the government’ (Bob, 50); ‘When you’ve got the research if you can get it in front of the right people, you may influence a change’ (Jeff, 69). Participating was also about the social integration of the client figure: ‘it was perhaps a way of changing the general populations view that somehow I am some form of weak needy degenerate, or flawed’ (Tony, 42). Collective identity, sharing the same beliefs and a sense of belonging play a central role in defining the boundaries of a social movement (Diani, Reference Diani1992: 8). This raises the question, if clients and sex workers share similar grievances and beliefs based on their collective identity, do both groups belong to the Sex Work Movement?
Implications for policy
The evidence in this article sheds light on the practices of men who pay for sex with women in the UK and how they are responding to stigma and increased regulation. Using Diani's (1992) social movement framework helps to explore how they are seeking to contribute towards cultural shifts and political conflicts around buying and selling sex. The narratives suggest that clients are not homogenous as depicted in policy discourse, and some men who pay for sex do not recognise political or media constructions of clients or sex workers. The growth of a sex work community to offer support, share information, benchmark practices and foster a sense of normalisation, has been assisted by the development of online spaces for sellers and buyers of sexual services. The resulting networks are based around a collective client identity of being a ‘reasonable punter’ and a set of shared beliefs. Based on the collective identity of a ‘good’ client, and acknowledging that abuse and exploitation occur, these men make efforts to distance their practices away from such activities and support responsible practices such as reporting of underage girls and trafficked women. Informal interactions help them to negotiate stigma and reframe the meaning of buying and selling sex around ideas of labour, consumption and respectful relations. This mirrors the practices of the Sex Work Movement. Grievances around misrepresentations and stigma lead some men to want to increase awareness of the ‘truth’ about paid-for sex, to instigate policy change and alter representations of the client figure. It appears that the political and social hostility to clients, which may be similar to that which sex workers experience, motivates some men, such as mobilising them to participate in research.
Taking note of Agustin's (Reference Agustin2005, Reference Agustin2007) call, and moving the discussion beyond motivations and moral debates, reveals how some male clients resist constructions of sex work and negotiate increased regulation. Whilst not arguing that clients experience the same level of stigma, discrimination or vulnerability to violence as sex workers, this approach reveals how members of the Sex Work Movement and some clients share similar grievances around how commercial sex is constructed and regulated. In addition, there appear to be similarities between how both groups respond to such conflicts. Policy makers must not ignore the practices and experiences of those involved or they may miss how increased regulation and stigmatisation are negotiated. Despite claims that increased criminalisation would reduce the demand for paid-for sex, it appears that instead, ‘commercial sex emerges as an activity engaged in at least quasi-openly, a form of consumption and community’ (Agustin, Reference Agustin2007: 405). Whilst traditional political participation may be challenging for marginalised groups, mobilisation in subtle ways occurs. More research is required on political participation and how all those involved in the sex industry respond to increased regulation; questions need to be raised around how sex workers and clients mobilise together and what happens if and when conflicts arise. There needs to be a commitment to evidence-based policy which recognises the spectrum of the industry and seeks to include the voices of those involved.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the two anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments. I would also like to thank Feona Atwood for her help and support and for taking the time to read and comment on this article whilst it was in progress. The research that this paper is based on was support by the ESRC grant number PTA-031-2006-00302.
