Melbourne ~ Australia
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Prostitution occupies a significant position at the intersection of feminist debates about the relationship between power, sex, sexuality and work. In this essay I examine first and second-wave feminist accounts of prostitution. These often situated prostitution in pervasive patterns of sexual economics and on a continuum with both other types of 'women's work' and other relationships like marriage. I then explore several recent feminist texts which argue against this continuum approach and which advance specific grounds for a principled feminist opposition to prostitution. My conclusion is that existing feminist accounts of prostitution are inadequate. I argue that we need new types of theories which avoid universal and essentialist claims about prostitution, which pay attention to the effects of feminists adopting an anti-prostitution stance and which contest dominant cultural discourses about sexuality.
Many 'first-wave' feminist accounts of prostitution focused on issues of sexual economics, stressing the connections between sexual and economic practices. They argued that women were vulnerable to a 'fall' into prostitution because of the inadequate wages paid to women, because of their economic dependence on men as a result of marriage and childbearing, and because of a male demand for sex without love or responsibility (see Allen 1988). Most feminists argued that prostitution was both exploitative and demeaning for women. Consequently, while engaging in the 'rescue' and 'protection' of sex workers, they also usually looked to the abolition of the prostitution industry.Through this focus on sexual economics, many first-wave feminists drew significant contiguities between the position of prostitutes and the position of all women. They emphasised the relationship between prostitution and other 'women's work' as well as between prostitution and other relationships involving sexual-economic exchange, including marriage. As Emma Goldman argued in 1911:
Nowhere is woman treated according to the merit of her work, but rather as a sex... it is merely a question of degree whether she sells herself to one man, in or out of marriage, or to many men. (1969, p.179)
The argument that prostitution exists on a continuum of sexual-economic exchange was also taken up by 'second-wave' feminists in the 1970s. They argued that in all areas of society women were forced into sexualised roles and into the (sexual/domestic) servicing of men in order to sustain themselves. From this perspective, it was simply the degree of overtness which separated the prostitute from other women. Some feminists like Jocelynne Scutt (1979) argued that marriage was a form of prostitution in which women received poor recompense for their work, were more vulnerable to violence (from their husbands), and had less control over their daily lives than sex workers.Feminists like Jocelyn Scutt and, more recently, Christine Overall (1992) have insisted that many of the arguments commonly used to condemn prostitution are without foundation and that prostitution cannot easily be distinguished from other types of sexual-economic exchange. As we shall see, however, Overall does suggest that there are some specific grounds on which feminists can condemn prostitution. While prostitution has been seen as problematic because it involves particular dangers for women, such as disease, indignity, physical and psychological abuse and emotional pain, Overall argues that danger and injury cannot be considered essential elements of sex work. Women are frequently subjected to disease, injury and psychological abuse in other workplaces such as offices and factories as well as in their own homes. Moreover, as Roberta Perkins (1991) has recently demonstrated in the Australian context, these factors may be absent altogether in sex work. When they are present they may be a specific consequence of the illegality of most prostitution-related activities. What needs then to be recognised is that sex work occurs under a wide range of conditions and circumstances - some better, some worse than others.Overall also examined the view that sex work was wrong because women were coerced into it. She concluded that all workers face an absence of choice in relation to their work and that the presence of coercion and the absence of consent were features of many women's activities under capitalism and male dominance. Thus, there is a need to acknowledge both the presence of (economic) coercion in paid work generally and the agency which some women exercise in relation to sex work. While some sex workers have very little choice about their work, others quite deliberately choose prostitution.Finally, Overall examines the claim that sex work should be condemned because of its lack of reciprocity. It is often argued that intimate personal acts should not be sold on the market but should be exchanged between equals in a respectful relationship. But as Overall points out, the retailing of intimacy is a common feature of modern life and of other paid work like therapy and massage (1992, p.715). In the case of both therapy and massage, equality and reciprocity are not usually features of the professional relationship. Moreover, it is only in the last few decades that these values have been seen as desirable in 'normal' intimate relations. It is clear, too, that the enormous differences between men and women, particularly in terms of economic, social and political resources, means that equality and reciprocity are rarely real features of contemporary relationships between adult men and women. If fairness, kindness, and respect were also acknowledged as important values - in the marketplace as well as in intimate relations (professional and personal) - then there would be no reason why prostitution would continue to suffer a definitional exclusion from the realm of morally acceptable work.
Feminist approaches which situate prostitution on a continuum of sexual-economic relationships and which question popular accounts of prostitution tend to facilitate a broad feminist support for prostitute women. They 'cut across' dominant cultural meanings of prostitution by refusing to regard prostitutes as 'bad' women or prostitution as a sexual-economic exchange which is somehow radically different from other sorts of sexual-economic exchange held to be more 'normal'.In the 1970s Australian feminists used the continuum approach extensively. Anne Summers (1975) argued that prostitution played a central role in Australian history. This was because many of our non-Aboriginal 'founding mothers', the convict women transported to the Australian colonies between 1788 and 1867, were casual prostitutes in Britain. The organisation of convict settlements in Australia also meant that all women (particularly convict women but at a later point also free immigrant and Aboriginal women) were subjected to an 'enforced whoredom': in order to survive they were forced to trade sexual services for food, clothing and shelter. According to Summers, this situation shifted in the colonial period, when women were increasingly divided into 'good' and 'bad', either 'damned whores' or 'god's police'. It became the assigned role of 'good' women (a category that included married women, celibate spinsters and early feminists) to discipline and divert 'bad' women from their evil ways. The overall effect of this process was to divide and classify women as either 'maternal figures who are not sexual or as whores who are exclusively sexual'. Summers argued that these stereotypes functioned to discipline all women, for they ignored or actively repressed 'good' women's sexual needs ('good' women were seen to be asexual) and treated all sexually active women as 'bad' like prostitutes. It was in the interests of all women for these stereotypes to be broken down. Summers thought that one way this could be achieved was for 'good' women to refuse their traditional policing functions and for feminists publicly to identify themselves with those who were designated as 'bad': prostitutes, lesbians and prisoners.In the 1980s Summers' arguments were utilised by feminists like Jackson and Otto (1984) to argue that the dichotomy between prostitutes and other women was 'a form of social control of female sexuality' which 'makes the support of prostitutes by other women a matter of self-interest rather than moral imperative'. However, this approach was seen to involve a significant 'dilemma' for feminists. How could they provide effective support for prostitutes in the short term without compromising a feminist opposition to prostitution in the long term? Jackson and Otto regarded prostitution as the most blatant form of sexual exploitation, but similar patterns were seen in other areas of the paid workforce and in relationships like marriage. There were additional problems which had to do with the rights of all women to bodily self-determination. If the laws controlling prostitution were indeed 'laws on property, forbidding women to sell something (their bodies) that can only belong to men' (Bacon, 1976-77), then feminists could not adopt a stance which advocated the legal suppression of prostitution despite what was regarded as its inherent sexual exploitation.Several Australian feminists argued that the resolution of this 'dilemma' could be achieved by a focus on prostitution as 'sex work' (Aitkin 1978; Jackson and Otto 1984). Feminist support could then be confined to areas of immediate concern to prostitute women, such as wages and working conditions. Feminists could lobby for the decriminalisation of prostitution as a necessary precondition for improvements in the working conditions of sex workers without abandoning their long-term goal of abolition of the sex industry. It is notable that this approach did not mean an abandonment of a feminist opposition to prostitution or of the long-term goal of abolition of the sex industry. These issues were simply 'set aside'. This approach gave an important impetus to the formation of political alliances between feminists and sex workers. In Australia during the late 1970s and early 1980s feminists and feminist organisations (such as the Women's Electoral Lobby) actively campaigned for the decriminalisation of prostitution. Consequently, feminist arguments were used to support law reform initiatives in several states, most notably NSW (where street soliciting was decriminalised in 1979) and Victoria (where brothel prostitution was decriminalised in 1984).Since the mid-1980s, however, feminist support for the decriminalisation of prostitution would appear to have declined. In part, this relates to the tensions inherent in an approach which regards prostitution as fundamentally about sexual exploitation but which advocates decriminalisation as a short-term strategy. Feminists remain in substantial conflict about the sexual economics of prostitution, the moral status of the prostitution industry and the strategy of decriminalisation. In both Queensland and South Australia some feminists have argued that the law should be used to protect women and girls from exploitation within the sex industry and to dissuade men from participating in prostitution as clients. They have lobbied against measures - such as the decriminalisation and licensing of brothels - which were seen to offer state endorsement of the sex industry. Other feminists have lobbied for decriminalisation but remain in substantial disagreement about the form and extent of this process. In Victoria, the feminist law academic Marcia Neave - who conducted the government's Inquiry into Prostitution (1985) - argued in favour of a limited decriminalisation of street and brothel prostitution. However, the sense that there is something inherently wrong with the prostitution transaction was evident in her proposed new restrictions on prostitution advertising as part of an overall strategy designed to reduce the demand for prostitution.
During the 1980s some feminist theorists rejected the whole idea of a continuum between prostitution and other aspects of women's sexual and economic lives. Carol Pateman (1988), for example, contended that prostitution was not like other work because the prostitution contract was not like other employment contracts. It should be kept in mind here that the main focus of Pateman's work is not prostitution but a critique of contractarianism within liberal theory. She is predominantly concerned about the way that concepts like 'freedom' and 'consent' are used in modern-day relations (for example, in employment, marriage and prostitution 'contracts') to oppress women. Like Overall, Pateman emphasises the coercive nature of all paid employment under capitalism. But she also argues that the position of prostitutes is different from that of other workers both because of the particular dangers involved in sex work (for example, the fact that prostitutes are often sought out by serial killers) and because of the nature of the work itself. In her view, the 'embodied' nature of prostitution means that it is not like other paid work. This is because, economically or otherwise, vulnerable women are coerced into 'selling sexual access to their bodies'. In our culture and time such 'sale of sexual access' is regarded as 'sale of self'. According to Pateman, this means that prostitution looks less like an employment contract for sexual services and more like sexual slavery which, of course, is to be condemned.Pateman does not argue that prostitution is sexual slavery, only that, in our culture and time, it appears like this (and consequently is usually experienced as such). The issue here is as much about discourses of sexuality and their effects on individuals as about prostitution contracts. Those who reject the argument that prostitution is the 'sale of bodies' (and, therefore, sexual slavery) often contend that prostitutes sell only sexual services or the illusion of sexual intimacy. This position is often adopted by sex workers themselves. But it is difficult, if not impossible, to 'step outside' cultural meanings. For the community at large, sex work is regarded as a profound sale of self. This is, I think, why sex workers are disparaged and abused (by clients, the community, the judicial system and often too, feminists).Pateman is concerned with the political relationship between the sex industry and the maintenance of male dominance. In her view, the fact that men can purchase sexual access to women via the sex industry is intimately connected to the establishment of their public and private power over women. As she sees it, masculinity and femininity are sexual identities which are confirmed in sexual activity and, in particular, via heterosexual intercourse. Men create and maintain their sense of themselves - both as men and as women's civil masters - in heterosexual intercourse. But it is the public nature of the sex industry which makes it particularly problematic:
When women's bodies are on sale as commodities in the capitalist market, the terms of the original contract (which is about men's civil power) cannot be forgotten; the law of male sex-right is publicly affirmed, and men gain public acknowledgement as women's sexual masters. (Pateman, 1988, p.208)
Pateman's point about a general relationship in our culture between heterosexuality and men's power is quite convincing. But the problem she identifies is clearly about heterosexual identity (for men) and its cultural and political meanings rather than about prostitution per se. The power associated with men's heterosexual identity is produced and affirmed in a range of public institutions, the most obvious and visible of which is the institution of marriage. While the sex industry is neither invisible nor irrelevant, it cannot claim the power and legitimacy of these more 'normal' public institutions which affirm male dominance. Although Pateman is opposed to both marriage and prostitution contracts, she is explicit in her condemnation of prostitution and considerably less forthright about the institution of marriage.Pateman correctly draws attention to dominant cultural meanings of prostitution and their effects on prostitute women. But ultimately she reinforces these cultural meanings by treating them as fixed and given. If prostitution is problematic because of contingent, culturally based assumptions about the bodily submission involved in sex work, then a feminist condemnation of sex work based on its conceptualisation as always 'sexual slavery' is simply repeating and reinforcing these cultural assumptions. Different cultural understandings of prostitution can and do exist in the Australian community. In popular culture as well as in some feminist history and fiction, prostitute women are often represented not as sexual slaves but as rebels and resistors of male power and as women who are cleverly seeking to maximise their conditions and opportunities in a problematic environment (see for example Daniels, 1984; Horn and Pringle, 1984). Feminist efforts to intervene in and change the present practice of prostitution could place their emphasis on contesting dominant cultural meanings of prostitution (as 'sale of self') and bringing marginalised discourses, about prostitutes as rebels and empowered women, into the mainstream.Two other recent texts, very different from Pateman's, have also attempted to elaborate the foundation for a principled feminist opposition to prostitution. Like Pateman, Christine Overall (1992) and Laurie Shrage (1989) reject the continuum argument and stress that there are clear differences between prostitution and other types of sexual economic exchange. Overall concludes that 'sex work differs in a crucial way from other forms of women's labour', because it is not 'reversible'. Nothing about the service, nurturing and domestic work that is presently done by women for men would prevent its being done by men for women, by men for men, or by women for women in an ideal (postcapitalist and postpatriarchal) world. She also contends that:
the value of office workers, sales clerks, cooks, cleaners and child care workers has a value independent of the (present) conditions of sexual and economic inequality under which it is done, and much of it would still be socially necessary in a postcapitalist, postpatriarchal world. (1992, p.718)
By contrast, sex work, argues Overall, is not inherently valuable or ,reversible' because it involves a commoditisation of sex (which could not exist in a postcapitalist world) and because prostitution is essentially premised on conditions of sexual and economic inequality (which would disappear in a postpatriarchal society).In a similar vein, Laurie Shrage has argued that commercial sex, unlike marriage, is not 'reformable'. She suggests that 'because marriage can be founded on principles which do not involve the subordination of women, we can challenge oppressive aspects of this institution without radically altering it' (1989, p.360). The sex industry is not similarly situated and feminists are therefore justified in adopting a principled opposition to prostitution.But there is probably no inherent reason why sex work should not also be regarded as 'reversible' or 'reformable', unless one adopts fixed notions about the essential nature of male and female sexuality. There is also no basis for assuming that in a postcapitalist, postpatriarchal world, sex work would not be valued. In a world where sex and power were connected (or not connected) in quite different ways from our own, the knowledge which professional sex workers have could well be of use to men and women in the simple pursuit of sexual recreation and pleasure. In this case a desire to acquire specialist and expert knowledge would be the main reason for visiting a sex worker, in the same way that (even in a postpatriarchal world) one might visit a doctor for specialist medical advice. Of course, an approach like this is premised on an acceptance of the validity of a wide range of different sorts of sexual relationships. Sex is not inherently 'sacred' or meaningful. Some might consider it to be so, particularly in the context of a monogamous partnership. However, sex might also be a valid part of non-monogamous, non-romantic relationships focused on pleasure, play, companionship and earning a living.Even at present, there are clear grounds on which feminists could argue for a re-evaluation of the work prostitutes do. Many sex workers have specific knowledge and skills - for example, about the problems involved in recommended regimes for 'safe sex' - which are of value to the wider community. This knowledge has already been utilised by researchers and by state health authorities in Australia in the planning of AIDS prevention programs designed for the whole community. This does not mean that the prostitution industry - as it is presently constituted - is without major problems. Prostitutes face a number of significant hazards - including violence from clients, legal discrimination, health problems and a cultural stigmatisation of their work. I am also not suggesting that prostitution is inherently empowering for women. Perkins has recently argued that a feminist re-evaluation of prostitution is needed because 'female prostitution is a social situation in which women have more power over sexual interactions than in any other circumstance involving both sexes interacting' (1991, p.389). She says that because prostitutes can set limits on the work they do, because they acquire economic power and 'knowledge of true male sexuality' in their working lives, they are 'a far cry from the common feminist assumption of prostitutes as the most explicit example of female oppression' (p.349).Perkins's empirical investigation of a group of sex workers in Sydney does provide a valuable corrective to feminist accounts of prostitution which represent prostitutes as special victims of patriarchy. As she suggests, there is also a need for a feminist re-evaluation of prostitution. Her research indicates that prostitutes are like other, 'normal', women and their clients are like other 'normal' men. Many prostitutes do assert a significant amount of control over their working lives and, like other employees (even under capitalism), can often feel empowered by their work. Perkins found that most of the women in her sample had not been arrested, raped or subjected to other assaults at work and that the vast majority did not take drugs or, alternatively, did not increase their drug usage as a result of engaging in sex work. Moreover, they were more likely than other women to be orgasmic in their private lives.O'Leary (1992) has criticised Perkins's study on several grounds. She says that Perkins's sample is concentrated on the upper echelons of the prostitute workforce - brothel workers and call girls - and does not include ex-workers. Consequently, her results tend to be more favourable and to 'gloss over' the dangers sex workers face. This would appear to be a valid argument. But O'Leary is also critical of Perkins's view that prostitution inherently empowers women. She says that prostitutes can be empowered and empowering only within pre-existing patriarchal confines and that this means they cannot do what is necessary, which is to mount an overall challenge to patriarchy. This sort of feminist approach glosses over the ways in which prostitutes are empowered - at least economically - particularly in relation to other women workers. It also fails to establish any specific grounds on which to condemn prostitution. As Elizabeth Grosz argues (1994), our 'struggles are inherently impure and always bound up with what we struggle against. For Grosz this means that feminists need to refuse 'the fantasy of a position safe or insulated from what it criticises', for it is impossible to engage in any work, political or sexual activity and not be to some degree complicit in the perpetuation of existing structures of power. Of course, non-engagement is equally impossible. This does not mean that all activities and relationships are equally worthy; some may ,stretch' and challenge (rather than totally subvert) dominant paradigms, while others will not take issue with the status quo. But it is not clear to me that many prostitutes (as well as many married women, mothers and lesbians) do not already challenge and stretch dominant paradigms in their personal and working lives. Judgments about the degree of challenge and complicity need to be specific and contextual.It is probably impossible, then, to describe prostitution as either inherently empowering or disempowering for women. There are many problems in the sex industry as it is presently constituted. However, the sex industry is not unique in this regard. To varying degrees, sexual oppression is a problem right across the board in Australian public life - for example in work and parliamentary politics - as well as in private institutions like marriage and the family. Clearly, some workplaces and families are better than others; and some types of prostitution are less problematic than others. Perhaps what feminists need to emphasise is that the power relayed in the sex industry - as well as elsewhere - is both contingent and contestable.
There are several grounds for suggesting that existing accounts of prostitution, including some feminist ones, are inadequate. First, if we make 'big' arguments or construct universal theories about the essential 'wrongness' of prostitution, we may be unable to locate and deal with specific differences and problems. There are obvious differences, for example, between prostitution in Thailand and in Australia. Thailand's developing economy means that there is a shortage of alternative forms of paid work for women and an absence of public welfare. Even in the Australian context there are important differences between working in an 'upmarket' legal brothel in Melbourne and being a drug-addicted street prostitute in Kings Cross. Sex workers in these environments will share some problems (like the cultural stigmatisation of their work) but will also have a number of different concerns and problems. What we need are more careful and nuanced accounts of prostitution which are able to both specify differences and problems (for example, the legal harassment faced by street prostitutes in Australian cities) and point to strategies for solving problems. Such strategies might include a broader feminist support for the decriminalisation of street prostitution as well as discursive approaches designed to reduce the cultural stigma faced by prostitute women (for example, refraining from making principled statements of opposition to prostitution).Second, arguments about the inherent 'wrongness' of prostitution lead inevitably to arguments about the 'wrongness' of sex workers. This tends to affirm dominant cultural and legal discourses about the essentially corrupt nature of prostitute women. It also undermines the possibility of productive alliances between feminists and sex workers, alliances which are an important part of reform processes. Elsewhere (Sullivan 1991), I have argued that prostitute women have been marked out in Australian legal and political culture over the last century as essentially bad and deviant women. This is a trend which has accelerated (and which has started to similarly mark out male clients) over the last 30 years. As social ideals of equality and mutuality between men and women have become widespread, prostitution has increasingly been designated as the dark underside of 'normal' sexual relations. With the advent of new public concerns about HIV and AIDS, the prostitution industry has also been singled out as a particular threat to the health of the community.These changes have had ongoing effects for prostitutes including, most notably, increased legal harassment and cultural stigmatisation. Despite the fact that male clients constitute the largest single group within the sex industry and that prostitution laws are now written in 'gender neutral' language, women remain the vast majority of those arrested and gaoled for prostitution offences throughout Australia. The cultural stigmatisation of sex work also makes prostitutes a particular target for male violence. At the same time, their recourse to legal redress is significantly reduced; prostitutes who have been raped are even less likely than other women to receive fair treatment in the judicial system.As I have noted above, feminists have often struggled to support prostitutes while maintaining an opposition to prostitution. They have argued that it is possible to condemn prostitution without condemning those who perform sex work. But this is a difficult - possibly incoherent - position to maintain. Moreover, some recent feminist accounts of prostitution do specifically condemn prostitutes. Shrage (1989), for example, argues that prostitutes are complicit with the patriarchal domination of all women. Overall (1992) argues that prostitutes perpetuate rather than challenge patriarchy, although she concludes that it ,makes sense to defend prostitutes' entitlement to do their work but not to defend prostitution itself as a practice under patriarchy'.In my view, this position does not make sense. If the sex industry is particularly responsible for the subordination of women, then it is not logical for feminists to defend prostitutes' right to do sex work. But, as 1 have argued above, it is problematic for feminists to argue that sex workers are particularly complicit in the patriarchal domination of women. If feminist arguments about the inherent 'wrongness' of prostitution tend to slide into and collude with dominant discourse about the inherent 'badness' of sex workers, then feminists must position themselves much more carefully if they wish to avoid endangering the lives and livelihoods of prostitute women. Feminist arguments against prostitution do have the capacity to reinforce the stigmatisation of sex workers, thus increasing prostitutes' vulnerability to violence and decreasing their ability to negotiate, on favourable terms, with clients, the owners of sex businesses, and public authorities. These sorts of problems - which are related to the effects of particular feminist discursive practices and theoretical positions - cannot be simply set aside as irrelevant or unimportant. They are also not 'solved' by feminist approaches which emphasise the need to refocus analysis on male clients and 'the problem of demand' (Carpenter 1994).My third reason for suggesting the need for new approaches to prostitution is based on the general need for feminists to contest rather than confirm dominant cultural discourses about sexuality. In our culture sexual difference is usually talked about via notions of (men's) bodily integrity and (women's) bodily submission. Women's bodies are marked out as vulnerable, violable and possessable. In heterosexual intercourse, women's bodies are said to be 'entered' or 'penetrated' by men's bodies. Young women are said to 'lose' their virginity while prostitutes are seen to 'sell themselves'. This means that women are perceived to have a 'normal' lack of bodily integrity and, thus, bodily autonomy. In our culture and time this 'lack' is akin to a deficiency of selfhood (see Marcus 1992).All women are disempowered by these ways of thinking and talking about sexual difference. However, for some women - prostitutes and victims of sexual assault are an obvious example - these discourses are particularly burdensome. They mark out prostitutes and rape victims as particularly damaged and violated, as 'fallen' and shameful women who lack, lose or sell their bodily integrity (and, thus, themselves).Sharon Marcus has argued that rape can be both contested and prevented by attention to the discursive construction of 'rape scripts'. She points out that in our culture the most common ways of talking and thinking about rape, sexuality and gendered violence invite women to position themselves as endangered, violable and fearful; men are invited to position themselves as legitimately violent and entitled to women's sexual services (1992: 390). This language situates women as inherently rapable and structures the experience of rape for both male perpetrators (who feel empowered) and female victims (who feel violated, invaded and humiliated). This is what poststructuralist theorists like Marcus mean by the discursive construction of 'experience'; rape victims are subjected to real physical acts, but the cultural meaning assigned to these acts largely (but not completely) determines how they will be experienced and 'embodied' by women.Marcus proposes that feminist anti-rape strategies could usefully be focused on disrupting and eradicating rape scripts. This involves displacing the emphasis on what existing rape scripts promote - men's power and capacity to rape - and putting into discourse what is presently stultified and excluded, that is, women's will, agency, and capacity for violence. The idea is to transform dominant ways of talking about women, female sexuality and rape as a way of both preventing rape and transforming the destructive experience of rape for women.This sort of approach points to new feminist strategies in relation to prostitution. In our culture prostitutes are marked out as women who are bad, who sell themselves and are different from other women. I have already suggested that feminist arguments which stress the continuities between prostitution and other forms of sexual-economic exchange 'cut across' these dominant cultural discourses. I have also suggested that feminist positions which refuse this continuum approach and which posit both essentialist and universal accounts of prostitution fail to contest dominant cultural discourses about sexuality and prostitution.
At a minimum, feminists need to refrain from making principled statements of opposition to prostitution. But this is unlikely to be enough. What we need are feminist accounts of prostitution which assert the will and agency of prostitutes, which emphasise their capacity to resist male violence, which refuse the notion that women sell themselves in prostitution, and which reconfigure prostitution transactions. This sort of discursive strategy would change the often destructive discourses which prostitute women are presently forced to embody. It would also change the experience of being a male client, challenging men to embody new forms of sexuality. This sort of discursive strategy would also contribute to a broader feminist project which is addressed to the reconfiguration of 'normal' ways of talking about women, sexual difference and sexuality.