The Fairy-tales of recognition
Or the dialogue of cultural representation and societal recognition.
Once upon a time, in a far far land, was a woman named Ludovica. Ludovica was a sensational, confident and luminous being. She was also a happy being. Ludovica wasn’t trapped in any tower, she had no evil stepmother and didn’t need a prince on a white stallion to save her from an embarrassing situation. Ludovica was a strong and independent princess and one could sense her feeling of empowerment from across dance floors, filled metro stations and grocery aisles. Ludovica was a respected woman around Fairy-tale Land. People knew her. Radiating on the streets, she would receive and carefully collect greetings, smiles and sparkling looks of admiration. One could say that Ludovica was a bit of a celebrity. And she was indeed! Not only because of her bridge–burning persona, but also because she did her job well. Like, really well. All her fancy clients, including kings (!), highly recommended her and praised her professional, yet personal touch. She was known for a gentle, albeit remarkably efficient and feisty approach. Not even Santa elves could top her when it came to doing a job right. On top of being recognized for her mastery, Ludvica’s important position enabled her to make for her own schedule, decide on her salary, meet with carefully chosen, interesting and challenging individuals and, most of all, enjoy (almost, because not all days can be seen through rose tinted glasses, can they now?) every time her alarm birds started singing. Point is, Ludovica was a respected princess. She was recognized as an important part of society and as a worthy, brilliant individual. People knew, as there was no way not to know, that she was a strong, independent princess. A strong, independent woman. A woman to be reckoned with.
Now, if one told you Ludovica was a Wall Street businesswoman, would you identify this narrative as being a representation of a fictional or rather factual truth?
And if one told you Ludovica was a sex worker, would you then identify this narrative as being a representation of a fictional or rather factual truth?
Let’s just all take a brief moment to think about the recognition of sex workers in our Fairy-tale society and about fairy-tales’ impact on recognition at large. There is a close-knit relationship, or feedback-loop, between the way individuals are represented in cultural artefacts and their attributed societal recognition. To expose and analyze this dialectic affair, interviews have been conducted with two different individuals, who’s names will remain anonymous, that have first-hand experience and knowledge about the sex industry. Let us now dive into an enquiry on sex workers, their artistically represented doubles and the recognition ascribed to the both of them.
The incompleteness of stereotypes: Flattening the narrative
Most individuals walking this Earth have, have had, or will have, at some point throughout their existence, some sort of interaction with their own sexual desires. Although natural and inherent to the majority of humans, the fulfilment of erotic urges, at least of those that do not conform to heteronormative conventions, are, more often than not, dismissed as perverse. Even more, individuals that engage in the act of paying someone to fulfil their sexual drives are often shamed and degraded. When it comes to the sex industry and its workers, society’s dominant discourse is one of shame, vulgarity and, all in all, immorality.
There are two prevailing narratives around sex: the story of sexual intercourse being pure and socially accepted, when occurring between (heteronormative) individuals that are mutually attracted to one another, and the story of sex being impure, dirty or wrong. When it comes to the topic of sex, the existing density, complexity and diversity of human experiences is too often dismissed, and even repressed. By perpetuating those incomplete stories, and especially the one revolving around sex work, biased and stereotyped narratives are reinforced. Those stereotypes have the power to force individuals into certain societal roles, resulting in the wide-spread thought that every sex worker is a drug addict in need of money to pay for their next hit. This narrative of the sex industry is commonly accepted as being factual.
It goes without saying that stereotypes occur in reality, but the question that arises is whether stereotypes tell the whole story or not. Can one confidently depict the entire sex industry, with all its facets, all its different work environments, and all its diverse workers, with this one, unique narrative of a sex worker that is drug induced by her pimp?
The power of cultural representation: Constructing individuals
Cultural artefacts have the social authority to feed their audiences with fabricated representations of individuals or of a particular group, which are not necessarily true to actuality. A constant and persistent portrayal of a certain group or individual has the agency and the power to forge specific identities. Caught in a feedback loop, people can become the representation of themselves they are the most seen as. To be is to be seen. To be is to be present in the public sphere.
“You’re influenced by the things that you see around you, you’re influenced by the things that you see in the media. And if a sex worker’s life isn’t valued, and you don’t see it as valuable… that’s going to influence how you interact with the person.” – Interviewee A
Writers, producers and a multitude of other types of artists discuss the sex industry from an outsider’s perspective. This means that the narratological framework surrounding the sex industry has, mostly, been assembled by individuals who have not necessarily been in direct contact with the industry. That is, who have not experienced it as first-hand sources, who have not been sex workers themselves. Here, one can think of Paulo Coelho and his book “Eleven Minutes”, or the famous “Memoirs of a Geisha” by Arthur Golden. Both these men took the liberty to represent female sex workers in fictional books. Both these men represented female sex workers as foreign, lustrous or corrupted women. Both these men participated in the practice of representing sex workers as the (too well) known, mainstream and embedded stereotype. Simultaneously, and without it being consciously I’m sure – I hope – they participated in the merging of diverse individuals into one single representation: the typical story of a sex worker.
“I think it’s important to have representation of these experiences. It’s just that when this one is the dominant narrative that we hear, it does start to distort reality.” – Interviewee A
Sex workers, in both mainstream culture and society overall, are commonly represented, and therefore recognised, as enslaved, poor, destroyed women, stuck in an abusive working environment which they most probably didn’t choose, or were even forced into. Ultimately, this discourse is one that prevails in the public sphere and that has a direct influence on the recognition of sex workers.
The recognition of cultural stereotypes: Interpreting artefacts
It has been concluded through research that fictional and factual human beings, when it comes to human perception models, are interpreted as one and the same. Knowledge about individuals is transposed from reality to fiction and vice versa. Making sense of, and generating new knowledge about real and factual social beings, relies on previous knowledge. This means that every encounter with an individual, be it fictional or real, adds to our background knowledge that will later serve as reference for our interpretations of the world. If the knowledge retrieved is issued from a dominant cultural discourse, an eminent possibility of misinterpretation and misrecognition arises. Surely, recognizing an individual based on incomplete stereotypes accounts for the common dissonance between the way society views the individuals or groups and the way they view themselves.
When relating this phenomenon of understanding fictional and factual characters to the sex industry equally, one can see a recognition-conflict between the way sex workers are represented in cultural artefacts and the way sex workers think of themselves. Other than portraying sex work as impure, society has a strong tendency to recognize sex workers, because of their (believed) working conditions, as individuals in need of societal empathy. When discussing the sex industry’s environment with first-hand sources, one quickly comes to the conclusion that, for people with direct ties to the sex industry, the individuals one needs to be empathetic towards are not the sex workers, but rather the clients, the “men who need sex care” – said Interviewee B. There is a clear dichotomy between the way sex workers recognize themselves and their field of work, and the way society thinks about them. Cultural representations might be at the source of this contradiction, as for most social beings, the knowledge distributed about the sex industry is only accessible through cultural artefacts or societal discourses.
Mainstream media has this tendency of representing realities as exciting, exhilarating, or as any other adjective that might make an audience eager to consume. In due course, the sex industry is often linked to drugs, abuse and, for an external party, thrilling events. Although this somewhat dramatized narrative can indeed represent some experiences of some individuals in the sex industry, it is not necessarily an accurate daily-basis representation of a sex worker’s ordinary reality.
“[T]he mundane tends to be more representative of the truth. […] It’s not that sensational.” – Interviewee A
The key word is sensational. Dominant narratives tend to overlook banal realities, aspects that aren’t nerving or stimulating for the masses. Because the sex worker that is satisfied with her job does not shock or provoke intense audience responses, it is not showed in cultural artefacts, hence not seen by society. One can therefore not recognize sex workers and their field of expertise rightfully, as they have never been in contact with an accurate representation of them.
Supported by research, the opening narrative about Ludovica, where a sex worker consciously chooses their field of work, feels empowered by it and exists happily, confidently and luminously within it, is not so far from being a factual story. Certain sex workers indeed state that, since entering the field, they have had an increase in self-esteem and, generally speaking, an improvement regarding their quality of life.[1] For every former member of the adult industry who claims pornography destroyed his or her life, there seems to be another who claims with equal fervor that sex work empowered them.
The recognition of cultural stereotypes: Interpreting artefacts
It has been concluded through research that fictional and factual human beings, when it comes to human perception models, are interpreted as one and the same. Knowledge about individuals is transposed from reality to fiction and vice versa. Making sense of, and generating new knowledge about real and factual social beings, relies on previous knowledge. This means that every encounter with an individual, be it fictional or real, adds to our background knowledge that will later serve as reference for our interpretations of the world. If the knowledge retrieved is issued from a dominant cultural discourse, an eminent possibility of misinterpretation and misrecognition arises. Surely, recognizing an individual based on incomplete stereotypes accounts for the common dissonance between the way society views the individuals or groups and the way they view themselves.
When relating this phenomenon of understanding fictional and factual characters to the sex industry equally, one can see a recognition-conflict between the way sex workers are represented in cultural artefacts and the way sex workers think of themselves. Other than portraying sex work as impure, society has a strong tendency to recognize sex workers, because of their (believed) working conditions, as individuals in need of societal empathy. When discussing the sex industry’s environment with first-hand sources, one quickly comes to the conclusion that, for people with direct ties to the sex industry, the individuals one needs to be empathetic towards are not the sex workers, but rather the clients, the “men who need sex care” – said Interviewee B. There is a clear dichotomy between the way sex workers recognize themselves and their field of work, and the way society thinks about them. Cultural representations might be at the source of this contradiction, as for most social beings, the knowledge distributed about the sex industry is only accessible through cultural artefacts or societal discourses.
Mainstream media has this tendency of representing realities as exciting, exhilarating, or as any other adjective that might make an audience eager to consume. In due course, the sex industry is often linked to drugs, abuse and, for an external party, thrilling events. Although this somewhat dramatized narrative can indeed represent some experiences of some individuals in the sex industry, it is not necessarily an accurate daily-basis representation of a sex worker’s ordinary reality.
“[T]he mundane tends to be more representative of the truth. […] It’s not that sensational.” – Interviewee A
The key word is sensational. Dominant narratives tend to overlook banal realities, aspects that aren’t nerving or stimulating for the masses. Because the sex worker that is satisfied with her job does not shock or provoke intense audience responses, it is not showed in cultural artefacts, hence not seen by society. One can therefore not recognize sex workers and their field of expertise rightfully, as they have never been in contact with an accurate representation of them.
Supported by research, the opening narrative about Ludovica, where a sex worker consciously chooses their field of work, feels empowered by it and exists happily, confidently and luminously within it, is not so far from being a factual story. Certain sex workers indeed state that, since entering the field, they have had an increase in self-esteem and, generally speaking, an improvement regarding their quality of life.[1] For every former member of the adult industry who claims pornography destroyed his or her life, there seems to be another who claims with equal fervor that sex work empowered them.[2]
[1] Prostitution: Facts and Fictions, 30.
[2] Charles Edgley, “The Anarchy of Desire,” Symbolic Interaction 33, no. 2 (2010): pp. 319-332, https://doi.org/10.1525/si.2010.33.2.319, 327.
Varying cultural representation: reassessing recognition
Misrecognition, or the lack of spectrum in the recognition of sex workers, speaks of a societal problem with sex at large. There is an effort to represent sex workers as foreign, abnormal and impure. An effort to represent clients as sad, lonely and pathetic. An effort to represent sexual impulses, lust and desire, when not fitting into their carefully constructed stereotyped story, as sin, debauchery and transgression. Nevertheless, and despite the dominant narrative created about the sex industry, individuals still have urges to fulfill, urges they cannot always satisfy in a ‘socially accepted’ manner. Let’s be honest, there is a reason why people go to sex workers:
“People have sexual needs, emotional needs, it’s really not always about sex. […] I think it’s just human nature to want someone.” – Interviewee B
“And there’s a lot of kind of sexual issues that people have that sex workers help people work through.” – Interviewee A
Let us imagine and reflect on the impact the narrative of a helpful, kind and empathetic sex worker, if told, distributed and seen by a wider audience, could have on the way society recognizes the sex industry, sex workers, sexual desires and sexuality as a whole. If this story was told, the sex industry might be able to take control of the public sphere and represent themselves as individuals with societal worth and value. The possibility arises where their assigned societal role could be reassessed. Only through a wider spectrum of experiences told, of individuals represented and of stories seen, will dominant narratives be unflattened, resulting in diversity and depth emerging to the surface. Knowledge comes from what is represented, hence an increased variety in cultural representations would provide society with a larger pool of knowledge to utilize and fall back on in the interpretation and recognition of individuals.
In today’s Westernized society, the single story about the sex industry is slowly being challenged, as more and more sex workers are unveiling their personal narratives. The cultural stereotype has been brought to light, which engenders a flow and distribution of new, nonconforming narratives. The shift in recognition, one can assess, has not yet been integrated by society, but the sex industry is gradually gaining agency when it comes to the way it is represented in cultural artefacts.
And so, it all comes back to this: for individuals to appropriately understand and recognize each other, a larger number of cultural representations needs to be made available.
Varying cultural representation: reassessing recognition
Misrecognition, or the lack of spectrum in the recognition of sex workers, speaks of a societal problem with sex at large. There is an effort to represent sex workers as foreign, abnormal and impure. An effort to represent clients as sad, lonely and pathetic. An effort to represent sexual impulses, lust and desire, when not fitting into their carefully constructed stereotyped story, as sin, debauchery and transgression. Nevertheless, and despite the dominant narrative created about the sex industry, individuals still have urges to fulfill, urges they cannot always satisfy in a ‘socially accepted’ manner. Let’s be honest, there is a reason why people go to sex workers:
“People have sexual needs, emotional needs, it’s really not always about sex. […] I think it’s just human nature to want someone.” – Interviewee B
“And there’s a lot of kind of sexual issues that people have that sex workers help people work through.” – Interviewee A
Let us imagine and reflect on the impact the narrative of a helpful, kind and empathetic sex worker, if told, distributed and seen by a wider audience, could have on the way society recognizes the sex industry, sex workers, sexual desires and sexuality as a whole. If this story was told, the sex industry might be able to take control of the public sphere and represent themselves as individuals with societal worth and value. The possibility arises where their assigned societal role could be reassessed. Only through a wider spectrum of experiences told, of individuals represented and of stories seen, will dominant narratives be unflattened, resulting in diversity and depth emerging to the surface. Knowledge comes from what is represented, hence an increased variety in cultural representations would provide society with a larger pool of knowledge to utilize and fall back on in the interpretation and recognition of individuals.
In today’s Westernized society, the single story about the sex industry is slowly being challenged, as more and more sex workers are unveiling their personal narratives. The cultural stereotype has been brought to light, which engenders a flow and distribution of new, nonconforming narratives. The shift in recognition, one can assess, has not yet been integrated by society, but the sex industry is gradually gaining agency when it comes to the way it is represented in cultural artefacts.
And so, it all comes back to this: for individuals to appropriately understand and recognize each other, a larger number of cultural representations needs to be made available.
Once upon a time, in a far far land, was a woman named Ludovica. Ludovica was a sensational, confident and luminous being. She was also a happy being. And although Ludovica was trapped in a representational tower, had an evil societal stepmother and was waiting for a white stallion (She wouldn’t go as far as to be waiting for a prince) to save her from embarrassing cultural artefacts, she was hopeful. Ludovica was a strong and independent princess and she knew that, one day, she would be fully recognized as such. For now, she was dreaming about the day she would finally be able to embrace her felt empowerment, the day where people would be able to sense it from across dance floors, filled metro stations and grocery aisles. Ludovica knew that if she was able to show Fairy-Tale land that she did her job even better than Santa elves, her fancy clients, including kings (!), would finally have the courage and wouldn’t feel shame to highly recommend her and praise her for her professional, yet personal touch. Until that luminous day would come, Ludovica was embracing the fact that she was able to make for her own schedule, decide on her salary, meet with carefully chosen, interesting and challenging individuals and, most of all, enjoy almost (as not all days can be seen through rose tinted glasses, can they now?) every time her alarm birds started singing. Point is, Ludovica knew she would, one day, become a respected and acknowledged princess. A princess that would be recognized as an important part of society and as a worthy, brilliant individual. Ludovica knew, as there was no way not to know, that she was a strong, independent princess. A strong, independent woman. A woman to be reckoned with. And she knew the day would come when the entire world would know too. Until then, she hoped to live happily ever after.
The End.
Sources
Adichie Chimanda. “The Danger of a Single Story.” Lecture, Ted Talk October 7, 2009.
Beauvoir, Simone de. The Second Sex. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 2011.
Bortolussi, Marisa, and Peter Dixon. “Characters and Characterization.” Psychonarratology, 2002, 133–65. https://doi.org/10.1017/cbo9780511500107.005.
Edgley, Charles. “The Anarchy of Desire.” Symbolic Interaction 33, no. 2 (2010): 319–32. https://doi.org/10.1525/si.2010.33.2.319.
Honneth, Axel. “I—Axel Honneth: Invisibility: On the Epistemology of ‘Recognition.’” Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 75, no. 1 (2001): 111–26. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8349.00081.
Interviewee 1, interview by author, Zoom call, October 13, 2020, transcript.
Interviewee 2, interview by author, Zoom call, October 13, 2020, transcript.
Leontsini, Mary, and Yulie Papadakou. “Trans Subjects in the Making: The Quest for Recognition in Greek Trans Women’s Autobiographies.” Storytelling, Self, Society 13, no. 1 (2017): 76. https://doi.org/10.13110/storselfsoci.13.1.0076.
Lepold, Kristina. “An Ideology Critique of Recognition: Judith Butler in the Context of the Contemporary Debate on Recognition.” Constellations 25, no. 3 (2018): 474–84. https://doi.org/10.1111/1467-8675.12368.
Weitzer, Ronald. “Prostitution: Facts and Fictions.” Contexts 6, no. 4 (2007): 28–33. https://doi.org/10.1525/ctx.2007.6.4.28.
Yar, Majid. “Crime, Media and the Will-to-Representation: Reconsidering Relationships in the New Media Age.” Crime, Media, Culture: An International Journal 8, no. 3 (2012): 245–60. https://doi.org/10.1177/1741659012443227.