The Age of Porn?

We live in the Age of Pornography and, as sociologists are always reminding us, "pornography" has a myriad of meanings. None of them positive, I might add. The reason why I decided to write about this post is because of several incidents I've been mulling over in the last few days, but one in particular which has stuck with me and, frankly, infuriated me.

A female friend of mine was attending a party, during which a man who she knows, began berating her. He swore at, yelled at her and insulted her. The sole, feeble attempt made to stop him were two people asking him why he was shouting. In fact, it was the host's job - or the job of any man there - to ask this guy to leave the party, immediately, and to remember that he was speaking to a woman. Whatever he might think of her, it is frankly disgusting that this guy's tirade did not provoke more of a reaction from the other guests. Eventually, it was left to my friend to do the only thing one could sensibly do in this situation.

Walk away.

But, she shouldn't have had to. It should have been the aggressor who was asked to leave and it is reflective of a worrying malaise in modern society and gender relations in this country that he was not asked to do so. We are all seemingly paralysed with fear at being labelled a "prude" or, as they'd say in Northern Ireland, "kill-the-craic." Well, when the craic takes on that form, it needs a good euthanisation at the first available opportunity.

Before I go any further, I should like to say that I despise pointless nostalgia. I find it insufferable when people prattle on nonsensically about the "good old days" and pretend there was no such thing as crime, sexual immorality, alcoholism or cruelty in the days before the 1960s. Many things are much better today than they were before and there's no point in turning all of one's social beliefs into an argument with Time. We have to have practical solutions to the problems our society faces, whilst also being proud of the benefits we as a generation have produced. I, for instance, am passionately in favour of same-sex marriage. Why? Because - and some people find this bizarre - I believe in family values and I don't believe homosexuality is either wrong or "fixable." If we continue to exclude same-sex couples from the rites of passage that allow us to make a legal commitment to monogamy, then we are doomed to tacitly condone a culture devoid of commitment and saturated with promiscuity. Who's going to make the journey when you're not allowed to reach the destination? The gay marriage debate is also useful because it reminds us that the institution of marriage is something worthy of this great debate - rather than gutter of mockery it's been left in for the last twenty or so years. Now, if people are into promiscuity, then that's up to them. I am absolutely not condemning them. But, it's not for me and I do not really believe promiscuity helps anyone. In fact, aside from the sexual health problems it poses, it's rare to find someone who doesn't eventually become nauseated by it and desperately wants monogamous love and commitment. For me personally, these ideals are nothing to be laughed at and I think they're wonderful. And that is why I'm in favour of same-sex marriage and it's why I don't look back on the 1950s as the high point of Western civilisation.

The hectoring of my friend at the party disgusted me and I wish I had been there. It brought to mind the fury I had felt during a friend's recent break-up, during which she was roundly insulted and screamed at by her ex-boyfriend. During one of them, one guy threw a book at her. Really? You think that's acceptable? Well, guess what, moron - you're a douchebag!

I am sure the boyfriend felt greatly upset by the end of their relationship, but emotional incontinence is never OK. A little bit of dignity - coupled with the fact that he is the man and needs to remember that he's dealing with a lady - should have reminded him that displays of hysterical anger at a former loved one are not only unseemly but they are also crass, self-indulgent and embarrassing to no-one but your good self. Whatever happened to the Gentleman? Whatever happened to restraint?

Well, to return to the title of this post, it probably is due to what I've dubbed "the Age of Porn." The Internet has made a tidal wave of it available to young men and I should very much like to state before continuing with this tirade that I am not a prude. When young men are going through the hideous trauma of puberty, the compensation for the Etna-like eruptions on their faces seems to be having hormones racing through their system like the winner of the Grand National. In this cyber-age, it's probably unrealistic to expect them to permanently ward-off temptation some late night in front of the computer screen. It's the modern-day equivalent of the old Playboy magazine formerly kept under most teenage boys' bed. However, there are now young men in their 20s who are looking at pornography every night and I firmly believe it has seriously crippled both modern concepts of masculinity and interaction between men and women.

Some men no longer look at women and see them as comparable to their mothers, their sisters, their grandmothers, aunts and closest friends. Instead, they look at them and see a direct line to the faux-screaming nymphomaniacs they watch on their laptops. In short, the line of correlation is no longer to the mother, but to the whore. Even worse, do not imagine for a single moment that many young men believe the porn "stars" (has there ever been a great oxymoron?) are enjoying the sex they are experiencing on the screen. They know they're not. The fetishisation of the female body has led to an aestheticised sub-cultural phenomenon in which millions of young men have re-embraced the fantasy known as the "Victorian rape ecstasy," namely the ludicrous idea that - once forced or semi-forced into submitting to rough sex - the woman will realise that she loves it and that nothing in her life will ever make her as happy as a man's penis.

Yes, truly, millions believe that and it's led to a huge rise in the number of violent, sex-related crimes at university. And it means that the respect for a woman's dignity and intellectual worth has plummeted.

A note to the men who believe this: dominating a woman with your penis doesn't make you a man. Being able to help her, talk with her as an equal, and being a gentleman to her, makes you a man. And a note to the girls who "give it up," because they think it will make guys like you more: they don't. They don't respect you, they don't esteem you, they don't even particularly like you. Take it from someone who's heard what the lads say when there are no women around. If you indulge in this kind of behaviour, you're not spoken of with respect. You're a joke; you're a punchline. Every intimate move you made, every physical expression that flitted across your face, every embarrassing, private detail and every humiliation he heaped on you - or you heaped on yourself - is being recounted to his mates in excruciating detail.

I am not a prude. I have no problem discussing sex or saying what I think about it. I'm a realist. And no amount of banging on about gender equality or sexual liberation will make me change what I've just said. "Gender equality" and "sexual liberation" sound like good ideas and, indeed, they are - in theory. But, their fundamental concept is to bolster our self-worth, not demean it further. These battles were fought for the right to define and defend our own bodies. So why are so many of us cheapening them, irreparably? You are entitled to enjoy sex, not endure it! A long time ago, the sexual lives of many people in my generation ceased to become the pursuit of happiness and instead became the pursuit of attention. Or a punchline. And that's tragic. It's demeaning to everyone involved, regardless of orientation or gender. The Age of Porn may as well be called the Fall of the Gentleman and that's nothing to be proud of.

I see my female friends as my equals, in every sense of the word. I value them, I love them and I hope, very much, that I respect them. I hope my late grandfather looks down on me and is proud of that, because of the many lessons he taught me, that of standing up for a woman when there are no seats left on the bus is the most important. Because it's a set of life values that I count invaluable and for that - and so much else - I will be forever grateful to him.

The Waterfront in Georgetown in Washington D.C. is a beautiful place, which I highly recommend for an evening out. A few weeks ago, I took a friend to dinner there and we sat and drank and laughed, discussing the world, our love lives and modern values. At the end of the evening, I settled the bill and we walked out (a little tipsy, I should say - our waiter was certainly impressed with our staying power) into the warm night air. The friend in question, Courtney, is a true lady from the heartland of Tennessee. Over the course of our five hour supper (when you put a drink and a good meal in front of a child of Ulster and a child of the South, you know they're settling in for the long-haul!), it struck me that this kind of easy-going charm and graciousness to an evening is what we're missing. I can't think of a more delightful evening. A little respect for one another, a lot more restraint and the pleasure in being good company, to make other people feel comfortable rather than satisfy yourself, is - like the three parts rum mixed together in one of our delightful cocktails - exactly the recipe we should be more closely following.