REYKJAVIK, Iceland (AP) — In the age of instant information, globe-spanning viral videos and the World Wide Web, can a thoroughly wired country become a porn-free zone? Authorities in Iceland want to find out. The government of the tiny North Atlantic nation is drafting plans to ban pornography, in print and online, in an attempt to protect children from a tide of violent sexual imagery. The proposal by Interior Minister Ogmundur Jonasson has caused an uproar. Opponents say the move will censor the Web, encourage authoritarian regimes and undermine Iceland’s reputation as a Scandinavian bastion of free speech.
Here’s a (not so very) original idea: let’s ban porn. Simple, right? Block access to pornography on the Internet, and before long we can all stop worrying about our kids watching gang bangs and anal sex marathons. At least that’s what Iceland is thinking might happen if they go ahead with plans to block access to pornography sites.
This seems like an idea that’s impossible to argue with…until you try to define pornography. Sure, there’s the old Louis Brandeis standby: “I can’t tell you what it is, but I know it when I see it.” That’s way too subjective, and we all know what can happen when anti-pornography zealots begin to work their magic. Before long all we’ll be allowed to see are cat videos.
One person’s porn is another’s “art film,” so how does a country go about setting a standard about what are appropriate and healthy depictions of sex and sexuality and what’s designed to appeal to our more prurient interests. When you really begin to drill down, the problem becomes very real and a clear definition of pornography becomes a very difficult thing to nail down. There have been instances in American libraries, for example, where anti-pornography filters have blocked sites that use the word “breast.” Unfortunately, that casts a very wide net; it blocks graphic displays of sex acts AND breast cancer sites. When one sets out to filter and block certain types of information, the law of unintended consequences can create a lot of collateral damage.
A few years ago, Australia announced it would introduce an Internet filtering system to block websites containing material including child pornography, bestiality, sexual violence and terrorist content. After an outcry, the government abandoned the plan last year.
Critics say such filters are flawed and often scoop up innocent sites in their net — as when Denmark’s child pornography filter briefly blocked access to Google and Facebook last year because of a glitch.
The intent behind blocking porn sites is often laudable; it’s a good thing to want to protect children from things they might not be equipped to process. The problem comes in when you have a squishy and vague definition of what you’re trying to block. Another problem lies with WHO you allowed to do the defining. My definition of pornography is undoubtedly different from an uptight, Socially Conservative Evangelical Christian. Whose standard prevails? And why should one person be subjected to another’s prejudices?
Sometimes, doing the “right thing” isn’t nearly as simple as one might think. When you begin to drill down and come up with a workable definition of pornography, you begin to understand that it’s a highly subjective undertaking. Where does it begin? Even more importantly, where does it end? How do you filter “objectionable” material while at the same time not blocking legitimate, non-sexually oriented material (cat videos)?
When it comes to the Internet, sometimes you have to accept the bad in order to experience and enjoy the good. Yes, parts of the Web are sexually explicit and designed to appeal to our more prurient interests, and that’s unlikely to change. This is where parents get involved and educate their children about what’s appropriate and what isn’t, because there’s no way to block pornography with a lot of unintended consequences.
Good luck with that one, eh?
