I wanted to share with you one of my favourite essays from my Masters in its original form. It does have sexual content, and a lot of discussions of transphobia and ableism.
I must confess it isn’t about nursing, and throws a lot of theory at you, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
R xx
Throughout the course of the feminist movement in the Global North there have been points of contention regarding expressions of sexuality and identity. As much of the historical theory of feminism is founded in a politics of shared experiences and unifying identities; areas which become problematic when an individual’s life and identity are incongruent, or even absent, within the collective theory (Siegel 2007; Connell 2012). For example, the political lesbianism of the 60s onwards challenged the foundations of heterosexuality as a medium of patriarchal violence, often positioning women who partnered with men as culpable in, or ignorant of, their own oppression (Rich 1981, Mckinnon 1989). Subsequently, many women were unable to identify themselves in this strand of the feminist movement, either due to their preference of male partners, or that their preference for female partners was not a lifestyle or act of defiance, but that which they had no control over. Thus, politicising lesbianism - by positioning it as something to be co-opted into - the movement depoliticised the lives of women who partnered with women as simply an aspect of their sexuality (Siegel 2007).
A few decades later this can be seen again with the prominent “Sex Wars” of the late 80s and 90s, during which many feminists sided with C/conservative activists to censor and limit the production of pornographic material. Once again, the campaigns were founded on opposing heterosexual violence, but vilified those who engaged in sex work or used pornography and overlooked those who did not identify as heterosexual (Seigel 2007, Hunter 2006). Fortunately, during the Sex Wars an ontological shift was afoot in both the academy and feminist praxis, as poststructuralism and Queer theory began to gain traction. The shift in the understanding of how the body and sexuality are shaped and communicated, from innately material to social, altered the Sex Wars focus to consider the function and impact of multi-structural power rather than directly critiquing the individual institutions; or it simply became more popular than the narrative of the pro-censorship feminists (Duggan 2006).
These examples of the more renowned feminist campaigns illustrate the interconnected nature of feminist praxis and sexuality. Both examples focus on the material and symbolic violence of heterosexuality, recreating the notions of the active, destructive phallus and the passively penetrated vagina (Connell 2012). The genital symbolism of heteronormativity is echoed in the current on-going campaigns of Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists (TERFs), whose rhetoric includes the fear of the presence of a penis in [cis] women only spaces, irrespective of the gender of the person the penis an appendage of (CUSU 2019, Hines 2019). TERFs position trans folk as an afront to lesbian identities. As TERFs ascribe to a biological view of gender, their prerequisites of lesbianism are of a certain – cis – form of female body; trans* identities skew the foundations of TERF’s essentialist ideals, which they argue erases the claim to womanhood and lesbian identities (Stone 1991). Subsequently, the TERF community has responded with hostile, often violent means, to exclude trans* folk from multiple public and online spaces, claiming the need for protection against identity erasure and sexual violence (CUSU 2019).
Strangely, TERFs are unable to see the irony in their actions, and it is deeply troubling for the wider feminist community that TERFs can claim theoretical validity through the movement of feminism, due to their use of the works of many of the movement’s figureheads (Raymond 1980, Jefferys 2014). One of the ways to correct this imbalance is to engage with the theories which progressively counter the essentialist identity politics of previous theorists. Thus, this essay will challenge the foundations of the TERF rhetoric, with the consideration to the supposed fixed material signifiers of sex/gender: the genitals – which can be transformed through the use of sex toys. In the past decade the increased variety of sex toys on the market and in porn has presented opportunities to explore the material and temporal body (Minge & Zimmerman 2009). The increased popularity of strap-ons will form the basis of the critique through this essay. Initially considering the body and strap-on in relation to poststructuralist theory twinned with feminist aesthetics, and how this presents a challenge to TERFism; then moving to explore the use of strap-ons through feminist technoscience. Finally acknowledging some limitations to the concept, and proposing considerations going forward. All discussion will be in the context of consensual sexual practices. The tone may be slightly tongue-in-cheek, but the discursive underpinning will highlight the erroneous nature of both the material body and TERF’s violent campaigns.
The use of dildos is said to date back to ancient Greece, but the modern incarnation of the dildo can be traced back to 19th century physicians using them as implements to treat hysteria (Das 2013). Ultimately, they were mass marketed as sex toys and can take many forms with many functions not in the repertoire of the unenhanced human body. The uptake of the dildo to be used as an extension or accessory to the genitals has increased in popularity in recent years with the increase in pornography of “pegging” – normally penetration of a man with a strap on – and “strapping” – penetration of a woman with a strap on, a term normally used within the lesbian community (Maddison 2011, Fahs & Swank 2013). This essay will use the terms according to the context discussed but “pegging” will be used more frequently as it is not strictly associated with a particular body-type or sexuality. Also, since much writing on the act of pegging/ strapping focuses on a single form of sexuality, gender expression or ability this essay will consider, as far as possible, all bodies that use strap-ons (Hemming 2001; Maddison 2011; Mussies & Maliepaard 2017). This is not an attempt to depoliticise the individual bodies or experiences, but to highlight the multiplicity of the sexual body in order to destabilise the binary gender approach.
To begin with Butler seems both logical and necessary. Butler’s seminal work Gender Trouble (1990) was released during the aforementioned Sex Wars, and caused such a stir in the feminist movement the Sex Wars were for the most part abandoned. Her work flipped the notion that biological sex predicated gender to an approach of gender being socially constructed and communicated through repetitive – iterative – material and social practices; which she termed as “performativity” to denote the ways in which the physical body is know is through preconceive social notions. Butler (1990) intertwined sexuality and gender stating that they existed within a wider matrix of identification and cannot be examined independently. To take Butler’s work on the lesbian body - a heteronormative framework relies on the presence or absence of a penis to denote sexuality and gender, the lack of phallic reference within lesbianhood often results in practices becoming unnameable. Therefore, lesbians do not exist outside of normativity but may embody signifiers to identify their practices to themselves and others, thus delimiting and locating their sexuality (Butler 1990; Butler 1993; Armstrong 2000).
To apply Butler’s work to the act of pegging, when considering bodies outside of lesbian discourse if the penis is a point of reference the processes involved in pegging delimit and re-signify non-normative bodies and acts. Within a heteronormative framework the symbol of the penis is active, it is virile and requires that which can be penetrated and is often seen in symbiosis with the body rather than as an organ of the whole body (Butler 1990; Butler 1993). Thus, not only the absence of a penis in sexual acts but also the function of the penis can become hidden by normativities. When considering the plethora of human bodies: some people are unable to have or maintain erections; some may not want to penetrate their partners with their genitals – equally their partners may not want genital penetration; one partner may want to be penetrated when the other does not have a penis; there may be pain or dexterity issues; it could simply be a kink, the list could continue. As bodies and homo- or heterosexuality are grounded in the absence or presence of a penis, the use of a strap-on symbolically cites the material as within heteronormativity – creating a penetrator and penetrated − while disrupting its foundations (Das 2013).
To approach the act of pegging as situated within a heteronormative society and as such communicated with the linguistical constraints of the common language, one must look further into pegging’s aesthetics to understand how bodies are reshaped by the practice (Butler 1993). Classic aesthetics requires a producer and recipient, mirroring active and passive notions, however, feminist aesthetics pushes this further to deconstruct the dichotomous paradigm to consider both parties as active and socially located (Bovenschen 1985). Individuals involved in pegging will understand the practice and the meanings they foster from it uniquely. The strap-on does not need to be perceived as phallic: to use the example of heterosexual interactions, a man pegged by a woman with a strap on may still consider themselves wholly straight as the strap-on to them is not a symbol of masculinity but an apparatus worn by their female partner for sexual pleasure; within these intimacies the parties’ genders remain stagnant (Hemming 2001; Maddison 2011). Equally, the strap-on may shape one’s gender presentation or sexuality through the act, either confirming their identity or creating a transient gendered interaction. Thus, the act of penetration as foundation for sexual identity and gender is queried (Hemming 2001).
To attempt to understand pegging as a phallic substitute overlooks the potential discursive sites of the strap-on, bodies, and the act. To return to the TERF rhetoric the violence and power they associate with the penis and the sanctity they ascribe to the vagina as symbolisers of gender are distorted by the practice of pegging. The addition of the strap-on to the body can create, recreate or, literally have no effect on the gender and sexualities of the people engaging in the practice (Madraga et al 2018). Therefore, the phallus is not structurally mandated, as its anatomical constraints can be placed into discourse through implemental additions to the body. The resulting instability of the penis’ symbolism, and problematising of phallic presence or absence as a signifier of a fixed gender or sexuality, highlights the obstinance of TERFs to consider gender as potentially malleable and located, rather than solidified in biological determinants (Butler 1991; Das 2013).
One could consider the strap-on in isolation as a non-human object, a mere prothesis set in a fictional performance, not altering the actors or society, and for some this may be the case. However, to view a strap-on or dildo objectively overlooks the potential for intimacies and sexual practices to be shaped by technology. Of course, it is worth noting that a dildo’s function extends beyond that of a penis. The dildo will not become flaccid, ejaculate prematurely, many can vibrate, its size and shape (and species) can be chosen by the user(s) and in some cases they can even glow in the dark! (Das 2013). To apply Haraway’s (1985) work within feminist technoscience, the enhancements available to the human body and sexual experience create that which is more than can possibly be human; the strap-on becomes integrated into the functions and understandings of one’s body. To use the example of a person who is unable to sustain an erection, the use of a strap-on will allow the body to perform certain practices it is unable to without the technology. As the material limitations of the body change, the functionality of the body is reshaped, and potential intimacies renegotiated and delimited.
The confines of societal expectations of sex and intimacy which are placed onto the material body are no longer as restrictive since the increased availability of strap-ons. Subsequently, the penetrator/penetrated paradigm is shifted to include those who are unable to phallically penetrate their partners within a heteronormative framework (Mussies & Maliepaard 2017). As intimacies evolve the body and strap-on cannot be separated as the strap-on alters the body’s function and experience, and the strap-on is ascribed new meanings through praxis. The processes involved in using a strap-on result in engaging with one’s own body and partner’s body in new and situated ways. The strap-on is usually warn in a harness on the hips or thigh (in this instance 2 or more partners may be penetrated simultaneously), the dildo of choice must be interacted with as an appendage through use of lubrication and the experience navigated through with the partner (Mussies & Maliepaard 2017; Hemming 2001). Through these processes areas of the body are repurposed as sexual for both the strap-on user and their partner(s), and the physical and temporal symbolisms of sexual intimacy are disrupted (Armstrong 2000; Hemming 2001).
The amalgamation of body and technology into sexual practice skews the phallocentric lens through which gender, sexuality and violence is often viewed (Das 2013). The presence of an object which may appear phallic does not make the user intrinsically violent or male or stop the users from being lesbians. Yes, the strap-on may be an imitation of a penis, but much of sexuality – especially fetishism – relies on a sense of parody and play with a suspension of disbelief (Hemming 2001). The strap-on may be a non-human object but its meanings can only be fostered through human use and communicated through language which is steeped in gendered citations (Mussies & Maliepaard 2017). Thus, the apparatus available to penetrate someone does not dictate one’s gender, rather it is the facility of language which influences how one’s gender is expressed and iterated; but linguistics are not intrinsic, language sculpts the body and one’s understanding of the sexual as opposed to being founded in the material (Haraway 1985; Butler 1993).
To move to consider the limitations of pegging as a challenge to heteronormative trans-exclusion. The strap-on is a consumable product, which as demonstrated above provides multiple sexual expressions for multiple bodies; presenting many delimiting opportunities for those whose bodies and practices may often be viewed as normatively deviant (Das 2013). Through the end of the last decade strap-on sex has become more present in pornography and in vernacular. While visibility of the practice has increased the availability of equipment and choice has remained some what stunted (Maddison 2011; Das 2013). Therefore, while social knowledge of pegging/ strapping has increased, the practice is still relegated to the private domain. This poses accessibility limitations as more niche sex toys are often only available through sex stores or online shops. Therefore, one must have the ability and enough security in their converging identities to actively engage in the processes of buying sex toys which expose their sexual practices. Thus, by actively purchasing a strap-on one moves their sexual practices from the private and into the public domain, their sexual practices becoming more visible; even through online shopping one must engage in social institutions such as postage and financial services to make the purchase (Das 2013).
As a generalisation one must engage with the structures of Capitalism in order to use a strap-on through the choice and purchase of the equipment required. There are co-operative run sex-shops and more ethically sourced sex toy companies, but widely the purveyors of sex toys operate for capital gains. While pegging is not fundamentally a political act the potential reclamation and troubling of the constructed body has a political impact, even at a very personal level (Hemming 2001). If pegging is a possible site of queer and crip liberation, the interactions with a system which seeks to perpetuate the strap-on users’ oppression for capital gains are incongruent with the communities’ activism. Ideologically, engaging in a system which is dependent on marginalisation of bodies and practices, and an unsustainable consumption of resources cannot be a site for liberation (Sycamore 2007; Kafer 2013). But in the same way a strap-on does not exist as an isolated object, neither does the strap-on user, whose very existence is situated within Capitalism. Capitalism may profit from the use of sex toys and strap-ons but it does not fully dictate the strap-on users’ discursive practices, which seek to destabilise its oppressive foundations.
The marginalisation of bodies and practices may also be the appeal of strap-ons for many (Rubin 1984; Minge & Zimmerman 2009). The option to play with one’s gender expression, or how one experiences their body outside of normative boundaries forms the basis for pegging as a fetish. If pegging becomes absorbed into wider sexual praxis and disrupts the gender binaries there is potential that some enjoyment may be lost as the practice will no longer be deviant, but normalised and mainstream (Rubin 1984). I would argue that the act of pegging would still be enjoyable, but for more physical and intimate reasons than as a kink per say. Through the destabilising of gender, the body will be understood with the possibility to both penetrate and be penetrated; creating more freedom to discuss sexual desires, and to focus on the intimacies of giving and receiving pleasure without the confines of gendered sexual expectations and repressions.
The opportunity consensual strap-on use poses to not only sexual encounters but the ways in which gender is understood within society directly challenge the essentialist rhetoric utilised by the TERF movement (Hines 2019). The supposed abhorrence at the presence of someone who may’ve had a penis at any point in their lives being in a “women only space” is challenged by the possibility that any of those women could harness up and interact with a strap-on as if it were a penis while still understanding themselves as female. Initially the ways in which the strap-on’s significance is communicated will be situated within heteronormative language, but how the material body is understood and its potential for transformation will reshape the confines of linguistics – gender and sexuality could be understood independently from phallic references.
The use of genital prophesises has the ability to not only disrupt how we understand the gendered body, but how society shapes non-normative bodies as asexual or impotent. The use of technology expands possibilities for individuals to engage in penetrative sex acts which become absorbed into their intimate practices. The body and technology becoming unified as areas of the body become repurposed as erotic through the use of strap-ons. For example the use of a thigh harness not only allows partners to be simultaneously penetrated but also expands the sexual potential of the body away from the crotch; further destabilising normative material confines and consequentially delimiting previous marginalised bodies (Hemming 2001). The availability of various sex toys does need to be addressed, preferably within an anti-capitalist framework, which will need to be a continuous and reflexive process.
Whilst of course the oppression faced by marginalised communities is not completely founded in phallic symbolism – it is more multifaceted than that – the symbolism of phallic power is bad for everyone. TERFs use it to justify violence toward the trans* community, and non-normative bodies are marginalised due to their perceived inability to be placed within a phallic based framework (Hines 2019; Mussies & Maliepaard 2017). The potential for all bodies to be penetrate and be penetrated will shift the phallic significance of masculinity, and the penis as a symbol of sexual violence and virility will become meaningless. Hopefully, this will allow TERFs to refocus their energies into addressing oppressive power structures rather than policing bodies which aren’t their own.