COVID-19 has changed the way we interact with porn and forced me to reflect on my own habits.
For myself and so many others, it's easy to blame the pandemic for cheapening our transition into adulthood.
COVID has denied us access to our adolescent rites of passage — first kisses, first dates, parties and the pub. The chance to socialise and explore our identities.
For many, physical contact has been infected with the fear of transmission and behind closed doors, digital forms of intimacy have provided an alternative.
Doubt, boredom and fear for the future have created the perfect conditions for an unprecedented surge in internet pornography viewership and — according to one psychotherapist I spoke to — a spike in porn-related mental health issues.
COVID had a huge impact on porn use worldwide.
PornHub, one of the world's biggest porn websites, reported growth in traffic of up to 61 per cent in March of 2020 as lockdowns descended worldwide.
This rapid surge in viewership, coupled with the pressures of isolation and a horribly depressing news cycle, got me thinking about my own porn use and whether young people like myself are struggling with theirs.
The truth is, I have a complicated relationship with porn
One entwined with the pandemic and my mental health.A couple of years ago, around the end of high school, I realised it was a problem. It didn't feel right. I was noticing things about myself I didn't like. Things I connected with porn.
I was quieter, more reserved. Anxious and always on edge. I'd draw back into myself. I'd find it hard to maintain conversations. I'd snap all the time and I'd judge my friends. I had trouble sleeping and I'd developed some unhealthy attitudes.
So I made the choice to stop.
Around a month after quitting, I started to notice changes.
I was happier. I looked up more. I could focus. I had drive, ambition and a better self-image.
Now, I couldn't say how much of this was just placebo. After all, I was just starting to come out of that awkward puberty place. But either way, it felt amazing to leave porn behind.
And then the lockdown hit
One week was all it took. After six days of sliding between my bed and the bathroom, I fell back into old habits.I started to watch every now and then. Then every two days. Then every few hours.
It became a cycle. I'd get bored, make excuses and lapse.
Then bear the guilt, beat myself up and return with a renewed commitment to quit. I was falling back into the person I hated.
I began to wonder whether my experience was unique. Whether anyone else my age felt the same way.
Whether I had a legitimate reason to blame porn for my state of mind, or I had simply built it up in my head.
So, I did my research and found some answers.
First lesson: It's not just me
Dan Auerbach, a psychotherapist with Associated Counsellors in Sydney, says the pandemic has seen a "big increase in the call for help for pornography addiction", particularly from young men."We're seeing across the board that people are finding that their porn use or their difficulty with porn use has increased," he says.
He says that while pornography addiction is a serious issue, he believes that the stigma and shame surrounding porn use obscures a much larger problem.
"The figures on pornography use or difficulties with pornography are probably vastly under-reported just because it's a very private issue people wouldn't reveal very easily," he explains.
Second lesson: It's not that simple
Porn has been the subject of mass debate for years, yet very little consensus is held among researchers of its impact on young adults.Certain studies are inconclusive. Others point to all manner of consequences — impotence, insecurity, blurred lines of consent.
Yet the question remains whether porn is legitimately bad for young adults' mental health and what effects an isolated existence might have on this problem.
Professor Alan McKee, one of Australia's leading academic experts on the study of pornography and sexual development, says the problem lies in communication and our sexual education system.
Porn, he says, while being "really bad at teaching consent", is "fine so long as [it] is not the only source of information [young adults] have."
McKee says that so long as young adults can approach porn consensually and with a comprehensive sexual education, porn should generally have little impact.
"You don't want pornography to be your only sexual education … it would be like trying to teach a kid to drive by sitting them down in front of The Fast and the Furious," he says.
McKee points to religious backlash and flaws in our approach to sex ed as primary culprits in the anxiety surrounding porn use.
He says that ominous social narratives surrounding porn use are major contributors to porn-related mental health issues.
"[Young adults are] living in this world of fear because of course they're still watching porn. But they're being told it's damaging them," he says.
McKee suggests that porn can play a positive role in some young people's lives.
He says that porn can and has been a legitimate avenue for queer kids to find and embrace their sexuality outside of a heteronormative sex-ed system.
"Pornography for queer kids has ended up filling the gap," he says.
"Because there's nothing else that says that you exist and you are sexual and that is fine. Far from ideal, but the best you're going to get in this f***ed up context."
Third lesson: We need to talk more
Porn is a largely unregulated digital space.These days, the average child encounters pornography at age 11 and its proliferation to every corner of the internet makes this incredibly difficult to change. A simple google search yields billions of results.
So if porn isn't going anywhere, how can we address it?
Sydney-based psychotherapist Steve Stokes specialises in sex addiction and developmental trauma.
He says if you are struggling with porn addiction or guilt, you should seek professional help.
According to Mr Stokes, the shift to virtual spaces since the pandemic hit has made it easier for people to access anonymous help and connect with others.
"You can go to a [virtual] meeting anywhere in the world 24 hours a day … and pretty safely say [that] no one you know is going to be there," he says.
Many experts also say the solution may lie in education.
"So long as you have age-appropriate, comprehensive sex education in schools … if you see pornography, that's not going to do you any harm," Dr McKee says.
Australia, which is set to teach consent more explicitly in all schools in 2023, sits behind a progressive trend towards more open-minded, national sexual education schemes.
But that's not the only thing that young people are wanting to be educated on when it comes to sex.
For example, in September 2020, the British government made relationship and sex education mandatory in all schools from the primary level.
And in countries like the Netherlands, where comprehensive sex ed is included from primary school and sexual dialogues are more open, studies by Rutgers and the International Journal of Science have shown problems around porn use and sexuality shrink.
A 2018 La Trobe University survey of Australian secondary school students found that many students desired a better, school-based sexuality education.
Students expressed specific desires to learn more about pleasure, identity and different types of sex, highlighting an excessive focus on medical terms, pregnancy and disease.
My experience was much the same. I don't remember ever hearing about foreplay, pleasure, kink-shaming, or intercourse with another man.
Porn literacy is not included in any state or nationwide sexual education program. In a 2021 submission to the eSafety Commission, Dr McKee stressed the need for reform surrounding sexual education in Australia, highlighting porn as a key issue.
"All Australian schools must be required to provide comprehensive age-appropriate, pleasure-accepting sex education, including porn literacy," he said.
This is not a novel idea.
Writers, researchers, and sexuality professionals have stressed the need for early, comprehensive education surrounding pornography for years now.
And among all the experts I talked to, one theme was clear. We need to talk more about porn and sex in general.
Black-and-white pencil sketches and vague, drink-related analogies are not enough.
So, where does this leave us?
The reality is that young people may not be comfortable coming forward with these concerns. I know I haven't been.Porn is not something we particularly like to talk about. There's a certain stigma we often attach to it. It's something we quietly acknowledge and shuffle around. Something we keep private and for many, in shame.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about publishing this article. I've never been one to air my dirty laundry, and I've had millions of disaster scenarios run through my head in the past few weeks.
But maybe it's time we start being a little more honest about porn.
It's not something we can pigeonhole, nor sweep under the carpet. It is, I believe, as all things — something we must negotiate with ourselves.
