Pamela Stephenson Connolly

Engaging in sex for pay raises many ethical concerns. It violates the belief held by many that sexual behaviour is only acceptable as a loving expression within a committed relationship when the dynamic of power between partners is more or less equal. But is this realistic for everybody? I think not.

In the course of my clinical work I have come across men who employ sex workers because they are unable to find a partner due to pathological shyness, personality disorders, or severe mental or physical challenges. Wouldn't it be a wonderful world if accommodating partners, or professional sexual surrogates (who employ sexuality exercises and psychotherapy) were widely available?

Instead, such men often turn to sex workers. As a psychologist I do not judge them nor those who provide the services. Neither do I judge those men who have fulfilling sex with their partners but seek out sex workers for variety, sexual frequency, or erotic acts their partners might consider unsavoury. The job of a psychologist is to effect healing – if you criticise, patients will just walk out and not receive the treatment they need.

As a woman, though, I am appalled by aspects of prostitution, especially human trafficking, prostitution of minors, and the negative effects on the children of sex workers. In the course of my therapeutic work I have become all too familiar with the complexities of women forced into prostitution by abusive, controlling men, gangs – or by their need to support a drug habit. A few years ago I visited the red light district in Mumbai and saw sex working conditions at their most hideous. I find it far easier to provide therapy to survivors of human trafficking than to counsel those who use or abuse them. But healing people involves providing a safe place for them to express their vileness. Once that is achieved one can gradually educate – but not before.

Take the recent, controversial Sexual Healing column. In writing acceptingly of the letter-writer's visits to sex workers, I increased the likelihood that this man would listen to my subtle warning that he was conditioning himself to having paid sex and reducing his chances of an intimate sexual relationship. Those who felt my suggestion he seek advice about female pleasure from his next sex worker encouraged him to further burden an already disadvantaged and abused woman missed the point; this man would never have imagined he could ask a genuine question of an escort, so to display vulnerability and treat her as human being would be a step forward.

There are those who believe sex work will always be around and that the workers are the architects of their own lives – not victims as the stereotype suggests. I have seen a certain amount of clinical evidence to support that view. But some studies have shown a high level of sexual abuse in the backgrounds of young women who enter the trade. This raises questions about how voluntary taking up sex work is, no matter how outwardly in control the women appear. Then, many transgendered sex workers are saving up for sexual reassignment surgery; on the street this costly operation could be achieved after a couple of years, compared to a decade working in a bar. The few male sex workers I have seen in therapy tended to suffer from mood disorders, to have a history of sexual abuse, and to be as much under physical threat from their customers as the women are.

Yet this does not answer why, as a society, our views about sex workers are so polarised and volatile? Protecting women is a noble cause – but there is something else at play. Sex workers, including transgendered workers, seem threatening to many women. Because we shy away from learning about sexual behaviour in all but the most basic terms, few of us become truly skilled in the art of giving pleasure.

Is it possible that our fury at the notion of "normalising" sex workers is based on fear that they might know more about how to please a man? That all our faithfulness and "loving, wifely sex" might count for nought when the crotchless knickers come out or her blowjob sends him wilder than you could ever manage?

I once attended a lecture by a Beverly Hills sex worker for women who wanted to learn how to beat "the girls" at their own game. It was utterly illuminating and, I can assure you, I was later thanked for listening.

Julie Bindel

In her reply to a man who wrote in asking for advice on his "addiction" to brothel sex, Pamela Stephenson Connolly failed to challenge any of his beliefs about prostitution or the sex industry. Her reply gave the impression that paying for sex is as unproblematic as buying a car or eating in a restaurant. She did not question his obvious belief that sex is a right – something that all men are automatically entitled to. She did not challenge him on his use of the word "hooked" as a justification for his continued use of women in prostitution, even though it looks to me very much like a choice rather than an addiction (he says he is "unlikely to give it up because [he has] great sex").

Stephenson could have mentioned the grim realities of the sex trade. Instead, she portrayed it as a job like any other, when she wrote, "Many sex workers are very good at their job." The reality is that more often than not the women would rather do any job than give blowjobs for money. Aside from a few exceptions, those involved in prostitution are treated as disposable, often coming from poor and disadvantaged backgrounds involving sexual abuse and social exclusion. Normalisation of prostitution results in a general view that men can't help what they do and somehow "need" sex.

In giving such advice, Stephenson Connolly has betrayed the women in prostitution. I am not sure whether she would identify as a feminist but she surely realises that prostitution is both the cause and consequence of inequality between men and women. As long as men can buy women's bodies we can never be equal. Instead she perpetuates the view of prostitution as a service industry by writing, "Some like to engage in a financial contract rather than negotiate via 'dinner' or 'a movie'."

Prostitutes are routinely seen as different from other women and Stephenson did not challenge this prejudice. A punter told me when I asked him why he paid for sex, rather than finding a girlfriend: "They are girls no one else wants to marry. So they work for sex. No one wants their wife to be a prostitute." Charming.

Surely readers find the sex industry's terrible treatment of its "workers" and the fact that women in brothels are marketed like any other merchandise abhorrent? Those of us who believe in social equality need to ask why so many of us defend prostitution and the rights of individual men to pay for sex.

One argument increasingly used by pimps and sex industry apologists is that a number of punters are disabled and unable to have sex the usual way. TLC Trust, a pro-sex industry campaigning organisation, is demanding one wheelchair-accessible brothel in every city "to meet the demand", and that hospice wards should have provision for visiting sex workers. TLC even uses the example of wounded soldiers to call for an "NHS" approach to the sex industry. "It would be a sad injustice," its website reads, "if service personnel such as soldiers badly wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan were banned from the help they receive from sex workers." When one punter told me he believed, "If men could get it [prostitution] on the NHS, if they are disabled, it would prevent them from raping," I found myself wondering how on earth men such as him came to believe that all men are potential rapists, when it was supposed to be radical feminists such as myself who propagate this? The majority of men do not pay for sex. And it's offensive to people with disabilities to assume they cannot find a partner. Those who do pay for sex need to be educated about the harm it is causing the women, and society in general.

"Next time you're with a sex worker, ask her for some pointers," concludes Stephenson Connolly. Does she really think women having to service punters for a living concern themselves with teaching men how to give pleasure to women? They want to get it over with as quickly as possible and learn how to fake enjoyment rather than actually achieving it. Prostitution is a nasty business.