As Fifty Shades of Grey fever continues to intensify, a trend has begun to hit local personal sections -- countless ads of people claiming to be submissives, some “eager to learn,” others just claiming to be subs and many including the hashtag #shadesofgrey. The idea of a popular book introducing people to sexual activities with elements of danger prompts the question, just what is ethical in sexual activity?
Consent is usually enough to justify sex in most ethical debates, but does uninformed consent meet the threshold? Experienced BDSM enthusiasts have claimed that Fifty Shades of Grey misrepresents the practices of kink. So if a person was accidentally injured as a sub because they didn’t understand what BDSM truly entailed, was this unethical? Did the dominant have a responsibility to ensure safety under all situations, even by questioning the sub’s knowledge of BDSM, or was only the consent necessary?
Consider in this scenario that the sub wanted an experience in BDSM, and even though injury may have occurred, that was a risk taken. That was their choice, and the injury, while unfortunate, was their own. Further, the dominant could argue that the sub should have done more research before trying BDSM.
Unless dominants who contact or are contacted by submissives start demanding resumes listing previous BDSM experiences from their potential subs, it will prove very difficult to adequately gauge sexual knowledge. Differentiating between feigned ignorance and legitimate confusion is especially tricky given the role playing nature of the activity. It seems onerous and counter intuitive to the activity for dominants to question their subs after every misstep to determine if they’re comfortable.
Then again, if someone shows up claiming to be an eager sub, demonstrates no knowledge of the practices and a weak threshold for pain, are they liable for whatever the master does? Without informed consent, an ordinary BDSM session may become torture, battery, or possibly rape, depending upon the circumstances. Similar to the bartender who returns a customer’s keys, despite suspecting that the customer is still drunk, if there’s a reason to believe that the experience cannot be handled, the more experienced should have a greater ethical responsibility.
What about instances where consent is crystal clear, but the acts are so potentially dangerous that simple consent is not enough? Consider the fetish of feederism, an act where people attain sexual gratification from feeding or being fed until fat or obese. If both people are consenting and derive sexual pleasure from their role, does the danger of extreme obesity override personal autonomy?
The obvious answer may be that the consequences for feederists -- heightened blood pressure, reduced mobility and greater risks of heart disease and diabetes -- are greater than S&M and therefore justify greater regulation and scrutiny. This seems reasonable, but ignores the individual’s autonomy. Shouldn’t people, feederists, BDSM enthusiasts, anyone with a consensual fetish be permitted to handle their bodies in whatever manner they consider, free of societal input?
If both are consenting, justification for intervention could be if the fetish acts are endangering lives of dependent children, immensely burdening their family, or draining societal resources. Society has the right to protect children and spouses that suffer from these activities and to prevent resource wasters. Yet most solutions to these problems would open the doors to more ethical quandaries.
The first is that it opens up regulation of anyone that utilizes a substantial amount of communal resources. Examples from the health insurance industry would be lifetime caps, preexisting conditions and refusal of coverage. Further, in regards to the family concerns, prohibiting dangerous sexual acts might justify restricting other dangerous activities such as hang gliding, skydiving or rock climbing, transferring life choices from the individual to the government.
Further, this ignores the intensity of the fetish in connection to their sex life. What if asking someone not to be involved with feederism or BDSM was akin to asking a straight person to become gay? Given the existing consent by both parties, would a prohibition be too much, even if it were creating a burden or endangering families?
There are, of course, instances where it’s not asking too much. A pedophile may consider being with children to be as important to their sexuality as gender is to other people, but the cost -- allowing sexual conduct with minors -- is too great. Yet the costs here are nowhere as horrendous.
Finally, what if there is neither societal justification regarding resources or innocents, nor consent problems? It’s just two people engaging in potentially dangerous sexual acts. Should the will of society, be that the government, public condemnation, or familial pressures, be utilized to protect one or both persons? This raises a potential and immediate danger.
The immediate problem is that it only bolsters society’s ability to assert its will over the individual’s. In this scenario, both participants are adults, have weighed the risks, and made a decision that most would not. Shouldn’t they be allowed that autonomy? In many cases, from feederism, to casual sex, to prophylactic use, all the way back to sex before marriage, society answered no.
That’s the potential danger of permitting intervention into the bedrooms of consenting adults, it spreads. For decades the individual’s autonomy over their sex life has grown, allowing for legal condom use, abortions, premarital sex and a culture where a book about bondage is a best seller. Once society decides it should intervene in situations where age and consent are not factors, how long until this freedom recedes again?
The subjective and inconclusive nature of this article was intentional because there aren’t any clear answers, or, if there are, I do not have them. Sexual debates are oftentimes echo chambers without real debate, beginning and ending with consent. Yet, as was elaborated here, more complex debates lie beneath the surface, and they don’t have easy answers, but hopefully they will have more people trying to answer.
Consent is usually enough to justify sex in most ethical debates, but does uninformed consent meet the threshold? Experienced BDSM enthusiasts have claimed that Fifty Shades of Grey misrepresents the practices of kink. So if a person was accidentally injured as a sub because they didn’t understand what BDSM truly entailed, was this unethical? Did the dominant have a responsibility to ensure safety under all situations, even by questioning the sub’s knowledge of BDSM, or was only the consent necessary?
Consider in this scenario that the sub wanted an experience in BDSM, and even though injury may have occurred, that was a risk taken. That was their choice, and the injury, while unfortunate, was their own. Further, the dominant could argue that the sub should have done more research before trying BDSM.
Unless dominants who contact or are contacted by submissives start demanding resumes listing previous BDSM experiences from their potential subs, it will prove very difficult to adequately gauge sexual knowledge. Differentiating between feigned ignorance and legitimate confusion is especially tricky given the role playing nature of the activity. It seems onerous and counter intuitive to the activity for dominants to question their subs after every misstep to determine if they’re comfortable.
Then again, if someone shows up claiming to be an eager sub, demonstrates no knowledge of the practices and a weak threshold for pain, are they liable for whatever the master does? Without informed consent, an ordinary BDSM session may become torture, battery, or possibly rape, depending upon the circumstances. Similar to the bartender who returns a customer’s keys, despite suspecting that the customer is still drunk, if there’s a reason to believe that the experience cannot be handled, the more experienced should have a greater ethical responsibility.
What about instances where consent is crystal clear, but the acts are so potentially dangerous that simple consent is not enough? Consider the fetish of feederism, an act where people attain sexual gratification from feeding or being fed until fat or obese. If both people are consenting and derive sexual pleasure from their role, does the danger of extreme obesity override personal autonomy?
The obvious answer may be that the consequences for feederists -- heightened blood pressure, reduced mobility and greater risks of heart disease and diabetes -- are greater than S&M and therefore justify greater regulation and scrutiny. This seems reasonable, but ignores the individual’s autonomy. Shouldn’t people, feederists, BDSM enthusiasts, anyone with a consensual fetish be permitted to handle their bodies in whatever manner they consider, free of societal input?
If both are consenting, justification for intervention could be if the fetish acts are endangering lives of dependent children, immensely burdening their family, or draining societal resources. Society has the right to protect children and spouses that suffer from these activities and to prevent resource wasters. Yet most solutions to these problems would open the doors to more ethical quandaries.
The first is that it opens up regulation of anyone that utilizes a substantial amount of communal resources. Examples from the health insurance industry would be lifetime caps, preexisting conditions and refusal of coverage. Further, in regards to the family concerns, prohibiting dangerous sexual acts might justify restricting other dangerous activities such as hang gliding, skydiving or rock climbing, transferring life choices from the individual to the government.
Further, this ignores the intensity of the fetish in connection to their sex life. What if asking someone not to be involved with feederism or BDSM was akin to asking a straight person to become gay? Given the existing consent by both parties, would a prohibition be too much, even if it were creating a burden or endangering families?
There are, of course, instances where it’s not asking too much. A pedophile may consider being with children to be as important to their sexuality as gender is to other people, but the cost -- allowing sexual conduct with minors -- is too great. Yet the costs here are nowhere as horrendous.
Finally, what if there is neither societal justification regarding resources or innocents, nor consent problems? It’s just two people engaging in potentially dangerous sexual acts. Should the will of society, be that the government, public condemnation, or familial pressures, be utilized to protect one or both persons? This raises a potential and immediate danger.
The immediate problem is that it only bolsters society’s ability to assert its will over the individual’s. In this scenario, both participants are adults, have weighed the risks, and made a decision that most would not. Shouldn’t they be allowed that autonomy? In many cases, from feederism, to casual sex, to prophylactic use, all the way back to sex before marriage, society answered no.
That’s the potential danger of permitting intervention into the bedrooms of consenting adults, it spreads. For decades the individual’s autonomy over their sex life has grown, allowing for legal condom use, abortions, premarital sex and a culture where a book about bondage is a best seller. Once society decides it should intervene in situations where age and consent are not factors, how long until this freedom recedes again?
The subjective and inconclusive nature of this article was intentional because there aren’t any clear answers, or, if there are, I do not have them. Sexual debates are oftentimes echo chambers without real debate, beginning and ending with consent. Yet, as was elaborated here, more complex debates lie beneath the surface, and they don’t have easy answers, but hopefully they will have more people trying to answer.
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