KentOnline columnist Melissa Todd – a writer and sex worker – believes the government’s new porn laws could do more harm than good.
By demanding ID checks for adult sites, she says the Online Safety Act risks creating a goldmine for scammers, and is a nightmare for anyone who values their privacy…
This week a modelling website I’ve been using for actual decades suddenly demanded I upload my passport to prove my age. Me! The wrinkliest model in town!
I giggled, then realised they weren’t kidding and got grumpy. The UK, once a sensible, moderate isle, is now pioneering a new national pastime: legislating the internet into oblivion.
The latest entrant into this noble tradition is the Online Safety Act, which aims to make the web safer for children by demanding adult sites implement industrial-strength age verification.
It sounds sensible. After all, no one wants kids stumbling across ‘Amateur homemade threesomes’ when they’re innocently trying to get their homework done. Least of all porn producers, who would prefer their content be viewed by people with income and a credit card. But like many well-meaning policies, this one seems to have been cooked up by people who understand the internet the same way Victorian physicians understood female hysteria.
How do you prove someone’s age online? The government’s answer is “upload ID,” which, in porn terms, translates to: please send a picture of your driver’s licence to a company whose business model is boobs.
I mean, maybe we’ll look after it and not tell everyone, unless your preferences are totally hilarious. Porn is one of the few areas where people universally do not want their personal data stored. Do we really want some anonymous third-party age verifier compiling a database of who’s watching what, and when? That’s not a regulatory measure – it’s a blackmailer’s wet dream.
There’s also the illusion of effectiveness. The idea that teenagers – the most technologically savvy and hormonally motivated demographic on earth – will be stymied by a login screen would be charming in its innocence, were it not so irritating.
Meanwhile, adult content producers now face a Kafkaesque labyrinth of compliance hell. They must become data custodians, biometric bouncers, and security experts, lest they be slapped with gigantic fines.
A clips site is demanding I remove videos of my mother because when they were uploaded, I didn’t obtain a model release form for her, it then not being obligatory and now cannot, her being dead. These are the only videos I have of my mother. I hope society feels its moral wellbeing is saved by their being destroyed, even if I can’t fathom how.
The law doesn’t just affect the mega-sites; it hits indie producers, like me and many of my chums. These creators are now expected to implement costly tech solutions or risk being shut out of their own audience. This isn’t regulation. It’s gentrification and class war. Plenty of women dream of turning pictures of their feet into a side hustle. This new legislation spells an end to that innocent dream.
Also, when you restrict access to legal adult content, people don’t stop consuming it, they just get it from sketchier places. Just as when the US tried to ban booze, the decent law-abiding folk shut up shop, the gangsters rushed in, with machine guns and moonshine, and the drinkers kept right on drinking.
The assumption that all pornographic content is generated by some evil sleaze machine aimed at corrupting youth is simply nonsense. There wouldn’t be any money in that. Much of modern adult content, including everything I make, is inclusive, ethical, and joyous. The law punishes the people trying to do it right, while the shady operators just change servers and keep streaming.
If the UK really wanted to help, maybe they’d teach proper digital literacy, invest in real sex education, and talk to actual experts in online safety. Sadly, none of those options make for a snappy headline.
