Judith Levine's controversial book | Regulated Sex Industry would be batter

< < Previous

Learning Democracy: Working at the University, Studying at the Brothel

Jody Hanson, Department of Education Studies, The University of Waikato Hamilton, New Zealand : Paper Prepared for the Socialist Studies Bulletin

Background

When Jos. Roberts asked me to be member of the annual panel on Socialism and Democracy at the Socialist Studies Conference in St. Catherines in June 1996 I was pleased to accept the invitation. It wasn't until a week or so later that I started to panic about preparing a paper and it wasn't until I was actually at the conference in Canada and learned the identity of other eminent panel members that I started to feel like the new kid on the block, the one who was playing out of her league.

In retrospect, both preparing and presenting the paper were exercises in character building even if, at the time, it was rather nerve racking. In trying to give continuity to the discussion from the 1995 session on Socialism and Democracy, I started by examining Joanne Naiman's, whose work I greatly admire, account of a view from the university (Roberts, 1995). Her suggestions for left activists who work in the university are critiqued in relation to my own practice in the second part of the paper.

The third section reflects my own ideas, strongly influenced by Rosa Luxemburg, on democracy and socialism. Finally, ways of trying to incorporating democracy and dialectical teaching into our own classroom and research practices are proposed in the concluding section of the paper. Introduction In many respects universities the world over are rather homogenous work sites, although, to be sure, the local politics do vary. The South West China Teachers University where I taught in Chongqing, for example, shares many similarities with the University of Waikato in New Zealand. Marking, for one, is a constant factor everywhere. So are staff meetings, department politics and publishing.

There are work-culture aspects of being at a university which I find trivial and, no matter how hard I try, I can't quite take some of them too seriously: The see-and-be-seen meetings, the lunches with the right people, the sycophantic posturing to the dean. I also realise, however, that if I were a career academic who wanted to advance in the system, I wouldn't have the option of being quite so blase about corporate behaviours. But I am content to be a mere lecturer and because I don't have a mortgage, teenagers or car payments, I am relatively free to leave. It is not that I am planning on relocating in the near future, it is just that I like to at least think I have the option.

My safety valve, when things get shitty, is reminding myself that I have an open invitation to return to teach in China, some good contacts in East Africa and enough travel points for a trip to South America. And if worse comes to worst I can, perhaps, go and teach Grade Four in Simpson, Saskatchewan, the town down the road from my A-frame house on the prairie. (Scary thought, that one, as I really don't like small children.)

Before continuing, perhaps I should establish that I consider myself to be somewhat of an accidental academic. In 1994, when I was on my way to East Africa, I was offered a continuing appointment at the University of Waikato. Not having a career plan-- which I overly simplistically attribute to having 'no husband, no children and no problems'-- I decided to accept the job, partly because I had never been to New Zealand and, partly, because it seemed like a perfectly reasonable decision at the time. This, at least in part, explains why I am somewhat of an enfant terrible in the academy.

Issues Raised: Joanne Naiman's 1995 Account

First of all Joanne Naiman raises the issue of the university as a work place (Roberts, 1995). Budget cuts have serious repercussions for everyone at the university, and I agree with her argument that the tenured faculty is still a rather elite group of workers. Eliminating tenure positions and replacing them with sessional assistants creates, at best, marginal work and is a cause which I feel needs attention. There is, for many intents and purposes, a division of 'haves' and 'have-nots' at the university where I work. The incomes of many of the support staff, because the salaries are so low to begin with, are more affected by increasing costs of goods and services. Our Department secretary, for instance, who also supports her husband, doesn't have the financial choice of eating out or going travelling to attend conferences as I do. Neither does she have the option of working flexible-hours, or of working at home.

Now I am not suggesting that academics should accept strict hours or wage roll-backs to put us on par with support staff (pay parity the other way around, though, is an idea I would support). What I am saying is that we have to put our economic and work situation into perspective. I am guilty of complaining I live below the poverty line at $42,000 a year, which by New Zealand standards, makes me a relatively well-paid worker. Further, listening to an eighty-thousand dollar a year professor complain about not having enough money pales when juxtaposed with the reality of a twenty-thousand dollar a year technician.

I do wonder, though, just how strongly faculty support the struggles of the poorly paid general staff and sessional assistants. Is this an area where we could put more of our energies? I leave this question with you to consider. When reviewing this paper, our union president noted that "One of the reasons why a lot of academics are currently becoming involved in grievances is that there is an increasing tendency by Universities to treat [faculty] as employees (ie proletarianisation) by demanding to know where they are and what they are doing, by promoting performance related pay criteria. The grievance response is an individualistic one which we cannot be surprised at, given the individualistic nature of the occupation (despite the official ideology of collegiality) and the class position- their background, status and ideology- of most academics" (personal correspondence, 1996).

Secondly, Joanne Naiman suggests that teachers themselves are becoming increasingly narrow in their focus and that "one can observe the parallel process of teaching Marxism with increasing obscurity on one hand while, on the other, under intellectualising Marxism" (Roberts, 1995, p. 70). Declaring a political stance to generally white middle-class students (although there are a sprinkling of working-class and Maori in the numbers) may seem like a limited way of advancing socialism. But it at least gets some students to recognise that other options do exist.

At the beginning of each course I stress my political perspective and let students know what they can expect from me. I usually end these sessions by asking when was the last time nice middle-class liberal professors stood up, declared their perspective and announced they were going to present the status quo version of the subject matter. Some students appreciate it, others don't, and a few haven't a clue what I am talking about. Luxemburg articulates this dilemma, "The immediate problem of socialism is the spiritual liberation of the proletariat from the tutelage of the bourgeois, which is expressed in the influence of the nationalistic ideology" (Howard, 1971, p. 351).

Again, I may be able to afford to be more open about my politics than many and this consideration will be further discussed in the third section of this paper.

Self-Criticism as an Evaluative Process

The next section of this paper is a self-criticism of my own practice in view of Joanne Naiman's suggestions. Self-criticism, I realise, is a delicate process. It leaves one open and vulnerable to attacks from many quarters. This, I argue, is still a lesser sin than practicing hypocrisy-- of pontificating about ideas without living them, of talking theory while living another reality. Would it be out of place to suggest that some people who work at the university prefer hypocrisy to self-criticism? First of all Joanne Naiman advised that we should "get out of the ivory tower and get involved in ongoing campus issues-- and attend union meetings" (Roberts, 1995, p. 70).

Well, I confess I have been very negligent in this regard. Other than regularly having lunch with the president of our local union, I have been remiss. Perhaps it is because my research takes me off campus, or maybe it is because I work mostly at home and, thus, am often not around for the meetings. Most likely, however, it is that our union is a rather quiet political forum. The president does a good job and deserves far more support and credit than he gets from us, the rather lethargic membership. Rosa Luxemburg, (1973), whose work I try to emulate, would be disappointed with my behaviour, although she clearly recognised that "Trade-union action is reduced of necessity to the simple defence of already realised gains, and even that is becoming more and more difficult" (p. 22).

It was, therefore, only reasonable that I vowed to attend more union meetings, which I have done since I attended the conference. (Our union has also recently become involved in 'industrial action', but that account is for another telling.) Joanne Naiman's second suggestion was that we "talk about the larger picture rather than immersing yourself in detailed minutia" (Roberts, 1970, p. 70). Now that I have confessed to my major shortcomings, I can breathe a sign of relief at this point.

Talking about the global implications of issues and situations is something I do almost ad nauseam. Having lived on Canadian Indian reserves, in a bush village in Nigeria, in an industrialised city in the People's Republic of China, and, most recently in New Zealand, I am always drawing on socio-economic and cultural similarities. Kiwi students-- like many people in many places-- oftentimes like to think they are unique and, thus, they don't appreciate a litany of their similarities with other cultures To say, for instance, that New Zealand is a combination of the landscape of PEI, the conservatism of the Ottawa Valley, the weather of Vancouver and the political history of Saskatchewan doesn't always go over well-- even if it is true. Similarly, I learned that to say that Saskatchewan and Siberia have a lot in common isn't much appreciated on the prairies, either. That doesn't mean, however, that the New Zealand Qualifications Framework, for example, doesn't sound very similar to Canadian competency based learning. The Maori of New Zealand and the Indians of Canada and the Di of China and the Fulani of Nigeria share a lot in common when it comes to oppression and their struggles for equality. And poor people in all countries are finding it increasingly difficult to survive. Granted each situation has local and, possibly, national differences which must be recognised, but the commonalities, I argue, oftentimes outweigh the diversities. Has our recent trend towards the celebration of differences been taken to an extreme? Globalization, after all, is not a recently developed phenenoma. In this regard Luxemburg counselled:

Either we are national liberal sheep in a socialist lion's skin. . . or we are fighters of the proletarian International in the full significance of that word-- then a complete job must be done of opposition, and the banner of the class struggle and of internationalism must be unfurled openly at all costs (Howard, 1971, p. 337-338).

Locating both my pedagogical practice and my research in the internationalism of world history is on my development agenda and it is often necessary to find support for this way of thinking among colleagues and, as mentioned, students. Any recommendations people may have of readings in this area would be most appreciated.

In the third instance Joanne Naiman proposed that we, "acknowledge that we on the left are sometimes as vulnerable to being coopted by bourgeois definitions of problems as everyone else" (Roberts, 1995, p. 70). Luxemburg (1970) recognised this dilemma when she wrote, " . . . as democracy shows the tendency to negate its class character and become transformed into an instrument of the real interests of the population, the democratic forms are sacrificed by the bourgeoisie and by its state representatives" (p. 28).

Working in an institution like a university augments being coopted by bourgeois interpretations or, as was pointed out to me by Paul Harris, "Democracy in the workplace is problematic in an institution which combines on the one hand an adherence to bureaucratic formalism and rigid hierarchy and on the other maintains cronyism and favouritism as means of allocating rewards and punishments" (personal correspondence, 1996). Recognising ideological agendas is something I constantly have to struggle with and it is one of the reasons I decided to come to the Socialist Studies Conference. Feeling, in some ways, politically isolated in the antipodes I sought a venue where I could find like-minded people. I want to be reassured that socialism-- its ideas and values and goals-- still exists; I want to know that the theories of Marx, Engels and Luxemburg, are, indeed, alive.

There are, to be sure, socialists in New Zealand, but, except for a handful, I haven't found them. And perhaps that is because I haven't looked hard enough. Luxemburg, though, writes "Six months of a revolutionary period will complete the work of the training of these as yet unorganised masses which ten years of public demonstrations and distribution of leaflets would be unable to do" (Waters, 1970, p. 199). Possibly we socialists just need to recognise a large enough issue to bring us out of the woodwork (or wherever it is we hide). And Joanne Naiman advises that we speak and write in language that real people can understand (Roberts, 1995, p. 70). This is perhaps the area where I excel-- possibly because I am a compulsive writer, but more likely because I can't stand academic jargon, obscure discussions about theoretical concepts and writing which is meant to confuse, rather than clarify. Luxemburg (1992) is quoted at length in this regard:

Do you know what keeps bothering me now? I'm not satisfied with the way people in the party usually write articles. They are all so conventional, so wooden, so cut-and dry. . . . Our scribbling are usually not lyrics, but whirrings, without color or resonance, like the tone of an engine wheel. I believe that the cause lies in the fact that when people write, they forget for the most part to dig deeply into themselves and to feel the whole importance and truth of what they are writing. I believe that every time, everyday, in every article you must live through the thing again, you must feel your way through it, and then fresh words-- coming from the heart-- would occur to express the old familiar thing. But you get so used to a truth that you rattle off the deepest and greatest things as if they were the 'Our father'. I firmly intend, when I write, never to forget to be enthusiastic about what I write and to commune with myself (p. 28).

Like Luxemburg I write for ordinary people, not for the refereed journals of the academy, which I find is supposedly a shortcoming as an academic. When in Canada I often ask my brother (who is an oil-rigger by trade) to read and comment on the articles I have written. If he doesn't understand the ideas or concepts I go back and re-work the pieces because my main purpose in writing is to clarify, not to confuse. In New Zealand I give my writings to a self-identified 'genuine Kiwi bloke' to review. Again, his criticisms are ones I heed and seriously consider, although I don't always agree with or act on his suggestions.

In conjunction with my research work, the focus of my writing is about people in the sex-industry for people in the sex-industry. My articles are widely circulated and read by industry people, interested academics and support staff at the university. A number of non-industry people have told me that my writings, which focus on the ordinariness of sex-work, caused a shift in their attitudes towards prostitutes. I have long tried to follow Luxemburg's advice that "If you think soundly and if you have thoroughly mastered the subject under consideration, you will express yourself concisely and intelligibly" (Waters, 1970, p. 222). It has become common for me to go to a parlour or agency and meet a prostitute who says "Oh, so you're Jody Hanson. I read the piece you wrote on 'Bondage & Discipline'-- or shipmolls, or submissives-- and I really liked it." There is no finer praise for a populist writer.

But why is an academic not also a populist? Having worked through Joanne Naiman's 1995 suggestions (and been reminded that self-criticism is a valid, if, at times, embarrassing, exercise) I would now like to move on to presenting some of my ideas, influenced by Rosa Luxemburg, about incorporating democratic practice into our classroom and research practices.

Grounding University Teaching in Democratic Practice

Earlier I mentioned that I try to base my teaching practices on the democratic pedagogy developed by Rosa Luxemburg. For Luxemburg (1969) education was a central issue and she argued that "But for the advance and victory of socialism we need a strong, educated, ready proletariat, masses whose strength lies in knowledge as well as in numbers" (p. 126). She taught in the Social Democratic Party School in Berlin from 1907 until it closed in 1914 and during this time she developed an exemplary pedagogical model for democratic participation. According to Luxemburg, when it comes to socialism, we have a huge task ahead of us as we don't have a formula to follow, "Far from being a sum of ready-made prescriptions which have only to be applied the practical realisation of socialism as an economic, social and juridical system is something which lies completely hidden in the mists of the future" (Luxemburg, 1961, p. 69). Learning democracy, she argued, was a process:

[Democracy] must proceed step by step out of the active participation of the masses; it must be under their direct influence, subjected to the control of complete public activity; it must arise out of the growing political training of the mass of the people" (Waters, 1970, p. 249). I share both Luxemburg's optimism and her conviction that, as adult educators, we are obliged to try to instil democratic principles while we wait the political situation to be ripe for action. Democracy in the Classroom What about democracy, including classroom democracy, as a participatory activity? Rosa Luxemburg (1927) believed:

Evidently, the important thing for social democracy is not the preparation of a set of directives all ready for future policy. It is important (1) to encourage a correct historical appreciation of the forms of struggle corresponding to the given situations, and (2) to maintain an understanding of the relativity of the current phase and the inevitable increase of revolutionary tension as the final goal of the class struggle is approached (p. 121-122). While Luxemburg's idea sounds easy enough in theory it is difficult to implement in practice. That, however, doesn't mean that we shouldn't try.

Dialectical teaching-- based on Luxemburg idea that "The working class must learn what it needs to know and have the opportunity to exercise its knowledge (Bronner, 1981, p. 53)-- I've discovered, can be exhausting. Following Luxemburg's example, I resist giving students ready-made formulas and fill-in-the-blank prescriptions. I encourage, indeed demand, that people in my classes and tutorials express their own thoughts and ideas on issues. As is to be expected, some students appreciate this methodology and others consider me the lecturer from hell. Some students embrace the opportunity, whilst others resist.

Or, as Luxemburg (1974) notes, "It is pure illusion to suppose that the working class, in its upward striving can of its own accord become immeasurably creative in the theoretical domain (p. 157). Students, like workers, sometimes have to be pulled along as thinking does not come easily to some. Similarly, trying to involve students in helping set the direction of the course and in being responsible for their own learning is not an easy task. Discussions juxtaposing students' rights and freedoms with responsibilities and obligations is sometimes met with blank stares, possibly because so many students have been indoctrinated with the New Right ideology of individual rights, but not of collective responsibility.

As part of the course evaluation process I include student self-evaluation for 15% of the final mark. This is an opportunity for students to assess their own contribution to, and participation in, the course. Generally the results have been quite fair and honest. I, however, retain veto power just in case a student, whom I've never seen before, awards her/himself fifteen out of fifteen, not for attending and contributing, but simply for having a pulse. The exercise, I find, gets some students to start thinking along the lines of self-criticism.

Similarly, I incorporate the formal course evaluations, monitored and compiled by the Teaching, Learning and Development Unit (TLDU) into all courses I teach, even though, technically, courses only have to be evaluated once every three years. This, I tell students, is their option to exercise their power of assessment of my practice. Another power issue raised when I was discussing this paper with a friend was lecturer accessibility. Because I work at home I include my personal number in course outlines and on the notice on my office door. Some people, I realise, have a different sense of privacy, personal space and student invasion and would not find giving out their home telephone number acceptable.

Luxemburg took the issue of accessibility even further when she wrote "I assure you that I would not flee even were the gallows threatening, for the simple reason that I consider it thoroughly necessary to accustom our party to the fact that sacrifice is part of the socialist's craft and that this should be obvious" (Bronner, 1978, p 153). If one is going to be democratic, I feel the issue of accessibility in relation to our practice has to be examined. Democracy in Research: Examples from the Sex-Industry Can research be democratic? Luxemburg cautions "Not until the working class has been liberated from its present conditions of existence will the Marxist method of research be socialised in conjunction with other means of production, so that it can be fully utilised for the benefit of humanity at large, and so that it can be developed to the full measure of its functional capacity " (Luxemburg, 1927, p. 111).

There are, I contend, certain checks and balances we can incorporate into our practices which go beyond the bounds of the standard ethics approvals. While the sex-industry, upon first consideration, might seem like an unlikely research site for an adult educator, my findings support the idea that informal and nonformal educational practices (including peer-education, mentoring and apprenticeship) are alive and flourishing without the help of academics (Hanson, 1995). Luxemburg, (1979), too, recognised that democracy can be found in unsuspecting places, "Democracy has been found in the most dissimilar social formations: In primitive communist groups, in the slave states of antiquity and in the medieval communes " (p. 45).

As well as democracy, I have also found that some prostitutes tend to be less racist-- both overtly and covertly-- than some people at the university. Perhaps that is because even though women in the sex-industry come from different ethnic groups and (to an extent) class backgrounds, they work and socialise together. University people, I've noticed, tend to reflect one social class and, oftentimes, one racial group and some don't socialise outside this homogeneous circle. I am presently working on a book called Sex: Learning to work it.

Sex-work, I argue, is located in the personal service industry, rather like, say, being a one-on-one trainer in a gym, a hairstylist or a counsellor in private practice. As personal-service workers, the aforementioned occupations share the commonalities of (1) being dependent on a fee-for-service income (2) having to establish a return clientele to be successful and (3) providing personal services. Prostitution-- or at least living on the earnings and soliciting-- remains illegal, making it a marginal occupation. According to Luxemburg "[The marginal class] is not merely a special section, a sort of social wastage which grows enormously when the walls of the social order are falling down, but rather an integral part of the social whole" (Waters, 1970, p. 392).

At this point in my research, I argue that by working toward decriminalising prostitution, we on the left can help sex-workers move from the margin into socially acceptable work. The power of some brothel owners who exploit the workers can also be challenged more openly once the illegal activity stigma is removed. My argument about prostitutes-as-workers needs to be developed further, and I would appreciate discussing any constructive suggestions people may have on the topic. And like Luxemburg (1927), I see prostitution from an internationalist perspective, "Prostitution is as little specifically Russian as tuberculosis; it is rather the most international institution of social life. But although it plays an almost controlling part in our modern life, officially, in the sense of the conventional lie, it is not approved of as a normal constituent of present-day society. rather it is treated as the scum of humanity, as something allegedly beyond the pale" (p. 348).

The sex-industry in New Zealand, as elsewhere, is a relatively closed community as, indeed, is the academic community. Thus, research protocols are difficult to fulfil because true democracy requires the consensus of both social groups. It is estimated that there are about 9,000 sex-workers in New Zealand but that the number is rising (Jordan. 1991). Given the transient nature of the trade, women often shift from parlour to parlour or from city to city. This movement ensures a tight, close-knit information system.

I often say that the ethics committee guidelines of the university are admirable in an academic, isolated manner. If I breach the confidence of the sex-workers, however, I wouldn't be able to continue working in the area as nobody would talk with me. My approach-- which I am sure is similar or the same as that of many others doing field research-- is to do the interview, have it transcribed and give an original and an edited version to the person concerned. After the person reviews it, I re-edit the work and again have it approved. It is only at this point (unless I have written permission to do otherwise) that I let other people read it. My articles are generally well-received by the sex-industry workers (and it is a good thing that photocopying is a university privilege). Toni Sutton, a madam with whom I work closely, once told me that my writings, which show my empathy with the industry, are one of the major reasons working-girls trust me.

A Summary of Recommendations

Expressed in what I hope is a concise manner, the following are my recommendations for trying to incorporate democracy in classroom and research practices: (1) Involve the students in decisions about course content, direction and evaluation. Try to make them responsible for their own learning, while recognising that they are going to need theoretical assistance with this process. And give them an opportunity to assess the lecturer's practice. (2) Demand (whenever possible) that students think and support their opinions. (3) Be responsible to the people involved in your research. (4) Write clearly so that people involved in your research understand what is being said about them. Concluding considerations Are Luxemburg's ideas about socialism, democracy, participatory pedagogy and research impossible goals? Utopian? Unattainable? I leave you with Rosa Luxemburg's (1927), challenge, "The history of the world is not made without grandeur of spirit, without lofty morale, without noble gestures" (p. 398).

Bibliography

Bronner, S. (1981). A revolutionary for our times: Rosa Luxemburg. London: Pluto Press.

Hanson, Jody. (1995). Prostitutes as adult educators: Educational programmes in the New Zealand sex industry. In Michael Collins (Ed.), Proceedings of the International Adult Education Conference: Educating the Adult Educators (pp. 91-97), Canmore, Canada.

Harris, Paul. (1996). Personal correspondence.

Howard, Dick. (Ed.). (1971). Selected political writings of Rosa Luxemburg. New York: Monthly Review Press.

Jordan, Jan. (1991). Working girls: Women in the New Zealand sex industry talk to Jan Jordan. Auckland: Penguin.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1927). Stagnation and progress of Marxism. In D. Ryazanov (Ed.), Karl Marx: Man, thinker and revolutionist (pp. 106-111). New York: International Publishers.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1961). The Russian revolution and Lenninism or Marxism? Westport: Greenwood Press.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1969). The crisis in the German Social-Democracy. New York: Howard Fertig.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1973). Reform or revolution? (2nd Ed.). New York: Pathfinder Press.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1974). 'On Russian literature' and Stagnation and progress of Marxism (pp. 144-159). In M. Solomon (Ed.). Marxism and art. New York: Vintage Books.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1992). Cited in Monthly Review, 43 (9), p. 28.

Roberts, Jos. (1995). Socialism and democracy: Summary of Socialist Studies Annal Session June 6th, 1995. Socialist Studies Bulletin, 41, p. 69-71.

Waters, Mary. (Ed.). (1970). Rosa Luxemburg speaks. New York: Pathfinder Press.

Abstract

The discourse of sex tourism is often limited to reports of Western men visiting prostitutes in the Third World. But what do the New Zealand prostitutes have to say about sex tourism in their own country? This chapter, based on life-history methodology, explores prostitutes' accounts of their work with both foreign and domestic clients. Under the rubric of sex tourism, the experiences of Kiwi prostitutes working overseas is also examined. The lifestyles of ship-girls is discussed in relation to sex tourism. The idea that sex-work is located within the personal service industry is presented. This chapter argues that the contribution prostitutes make to tourism should be recognised and that their struggle towards decriminalisation should be supported by progressive people in the tourism industry.

Introduction

There are two choices in preparing a chapter on sex tourism in New Zealand. One is to identify a single topic and discuss it thoroughly, the other is to raise a number of issues and leave the reader with questions to consider. I opted for the latter. In so doing I want to clarify that I don't pretend to have the answers. I do, however, make some suggestions which may require some readers to shift their perspectives on the sex industry and the people who work in it. To that end, this paper begins by examining the concept of sex-tourism in an historical context and then moves on to discuss sex-tourism in New Zealand from the perspective of people working in the sex industry, primarily prostitutes and ship-girls. Kiwi prostitutes working abroad is the third issue raised and the forth is the unacknowledged contribution the sex-industry makes to tourism. Finally, a case is presented for supporting the struggle for the decriminalisation of prostitution.

Background and Methodology

Since taking up an adult education appointment at the University of Waikato in July 1994 my research focus has been the sex-industry, specifically the informal and non-formal means by which women learn to work safely in the trade. During the last two years I have met about three hundred sex-workers, including prostitutes, receptionists, dominatrices, ship-girls, submissives, drivers and madams. The data I have collected varies from nine hours of taped conversation with an independent prostitute to casual comments or observations recorded in my field notes after visiting a sex-work venue. As well as studying the sex-industry in New Zealand I have also conducted field research in Tanzania, Australia, the Philippines, Thailand, Vietnam, Canada, and, most recently, Fiji. And, except for a couple of small grants from the university, my research has been self-financed because I prefer not to compromise my study by adhering to funding restrictions. Like Rosa Luxemburg (1927), I view prostitution from an internationalist perspective:

Prostitution is as little specifically Russian as tuberculosis; it is rather the most international institution of social life. But although it plays an almost controlling part in our modern life, officially, in the sense of the conventional lie, it is not approved of as a normal constituent of present-day society. Rather it is treated as the scum of humanity, as something allegedly beyond the pale. (p. 348)

Decriminalisation, as will be argued later, is the initial step towards remedying this situation because it allows prostitutes to assume more control over their working situations. My research is based on life-history as methodology developed by Sue Middleton (1993). Whereas some researchers study official documents and records, the accounts of people who were actually involved in the work - in Middleton's case, teachers, in mine, prostitutes - in the course of their day to day lives offers an insightful interpretation not found in the policies and reports of officialdom. By using indepth interviews as the basis of my data, an account of sex tourism, as viewed from the perspective of prostitutes who work in the New Zealand sex-industry with both foreign and domestic tourists, is presented.

Like Middleton, "I assumed that the women were telling the truth about their lives insofar as they understood and remembered the events. There was no reason for them to lie. The techniques of revisiting and reinterpreting the material in subsequent interviews . . . ensured that the stories were consistent" (p. 68). In keeping with Middleton's theory, my continuing association with the sex-industry confirms that accounts I heard, say, two years ago are, in fact, accurate. The sex industry people involved in my research play an active, rather than a passive, role in my data collection. As Middleton notes "It was important to develop a methodology that would enable the women being interviewed to assist in the analysis of their own tape-recorded life histories and to try to avoid imposing alien constructions on their experiences" (p. 69).

Drafts of all papers I write are widely circulated in the sex industry. Further, I try to have people whose transcripts I use in specific papers read their contribution in the context in which I have used it prior to publication. This, I feel, minimises research exploitation and allows people in the sex industry the opportunity of maintaining control over their contributions.

My particular research focus involves heterosexual women between the ages of approximately 25-45 who work in what I refer to as the 'middle-range' of the sex industry. They are neither on the street nor are they in luxury apartments. Rather, they are generally rather ordinary women working in average sorts of parlours and agencies in mid-size New Zealand cities, including Hamilton, Tauranga, Palmerston North, New Plymouth and Rotorua. Given the transient nature of the sex-industry, virtually all of the women I interviewed in the last two years have worked with tourists, either domestic or foreign, at one time or another and many of them have worked on both the North and the South islands of New Zealand. Sex Tourism- Is it a New Concept? Is sex tourism really a new concept? From my readings (Forbes, 1988; Hobhouse, 1989) I argue that recreational sex has been a fact of life whenever cultures or various groups of people first encountered each other. In New Zealand, for example, it appears that sex tourism of a sort arrived with the first European ships. Papakura (reprinted in 1986) offers a, perhaps, somewhat bucolic account of the sexual interaction between Maori women and Pakeha men:

The Maori had not a practice equivalent to that which is among Europeans called prostitution. . . . A Maori woman would never have sold herself for money, never. She might give herself to a man if she loved him, for there was no law against this, but never for any other reason. . . . It does not mean, that because the pakeha made a present of a few nails or an axe, that he was buying the girl. (p. 101). Prostitution on a fee-for-service basis, it seems, arrived with colonisation. According to Stevan Grigg (1984), "It is possible that one woman out of ten in early colonial New Zealand was a whore for a time between adolescence and middle age" (p. 39).

This may well be due to the fact that "Early colonial New Zealand was a disorderly society in which many people were heavily dependent on alcohol or narcotics, and sexual life often amounted to little more than rape or prostitution" (p. 248). Modern transportation, I argue, may facilitate sex-tourism, but it certainly isn't responsible for initiating it.

Foreign and Domestic Sex Tourism

The tourism industry in New Zealand tends to portray images of the country which are clean, green and rural. Tourist attractions such as trekking, bungie jumping and biking are emphasised in most of the travel guides. But, as I noted in a CBC Radio report, "While the tourist brochures portray the squeaky-clean aspect of New Zealand, there is another side to the supposed quiet and tranquil life which is seldom discussed. The green hills and the sheep are so very far away - and yet so very close - to the peep shows on Vivian Street" (Hanson, 1994, p. 32). Although it generates a lot of money, both directly and in terms of spin-off industries such as bars, restaurants, hotels and retail stores, the economics of the sex-industry are frequently ignored, at least officially.

According to Rachel Kinder (1994), "A conservative estimation of both the Auckland and Wellington sex industries' contribution to the tourism industry is NZ $9.4 million and NZ $5.2 million respectively." (p. 5). That, I suggest, is considerably more financially substantial than bungie jumping which receives so much more coverage and attention. Estimations of the number of prostitutes working in New Zealand vary from eight to nine thousand (Hanson, fieldnotes; Jordan, 1991). An exact number is difficult, indeed impossible, to calculate given the part-time and flexible nature of sex work. And as economic times become increasingly difficult for women on low-incomes, there are speculations that the number of sex-workers is rising (Hanson, fieldnotes). Seeing tourists, both foreign and domestic, as clients is a common work situation for most prostitutes. Nikki, a prostitute who has worked in New Zealand, Australia and Singapore, offers an insight into the spontaneous nature of foreign tourists visiting a prostitute in New Zealand,

I don't think that people in other parts of the world are thinking, "Great! Lets go down to New Zealand and have a bonking good time." I think they're coming down here to see what they want to see and while they're here they have a good time. They like to party. And that's when you're available. (Hanson, transcript) The following interview with Jennifer is an example of how a woman starting out in the industry may well have a tourist, in this case a foreigner, as her first client.

In Rotorua there was a lady advertising for masseurs, and I just went in thinking it was just straight massage. And then when she told me that sex was involved, I said, "Oh, no way!" And she said, "Well I've got this lovely guy coming around. He's from Switzerland, and he always visits us when he's in town. And I know he'd love to see you." And I said, "No, I can't do that." But we sat and had a few glasses of wine. It was the wine I think that gave me the Dutch courage. The man from Switzerland was my first client ever. He rang up, and I talked to him on the phone, and he sounded quite nice. I went to his hotel and, even though I'd been drinking wine I still felt really nervous. I went and saw him, and when it was all over I thought, "What was I so nervous about?" He had more wine in his room and he was a real sweetie. So that was my first time. It was so easy.

When asked what she thought the contribution that working girls and the sex-industry made to tourism, Tina, a prostitute who has worked in a number of cities around New Zealand replied, "Clients always go away happy, I reckon" (Hanson, transcript). She went on to give her analysis of sex tourism.

Because Rotorua is a real tourist place, you see a lot of Asian clients there. Sometimes they might come into the parlour in a group of about ten. They always pay us without haggling about the price. In Rotorua the majority of the working-girls are part Maori. Many Asians would rather see Europeans, so these ladies do quite well. But some Maori girls also do okay. The Asians more or less go for the Europeans first, though. I find foreign clients good to see and I like doing Asians because they're pretty clean and the don't try and barter with you and they are more or less tom thumbs.

I've had a few fights with foreign clients. Not physical fights, but arguments. The first night I was working here we had a great big American, a huge American dude, who was sitting in the lounge. He sat there for a couple of hours abusing every client and every girl in the room and nobody would go through with him because he was just such an arsehole. He told us that he had millions and millions of dollars. He was supposedly this wickedly rich American who owned lots of businesses. There was something shady about him and he couldn't wait to tell everybody in the room what he did and how he made his millions and how he wanted every girl to come and work for him.

We had a good time with some Americans once. They came over on a boat and they were parked up at the wharf for a while, down where they launch the boats. They just always kept asking for escorts.

Seeing foreign clients is easier, according to Pamela, because they are more relaxed about spending time with a prostitute.

Because the ones I've seen obviously travel around the world and they seem to have a far less judgemental attitude about seeing hookers. They're not looking for anything other than sex. They are very easy about it and they walk in and pay their money. The last foreign client I saw, for example, was Dave, a Scotsman who wanted to have a threesome with his Kiwi friend, Stuart. When Stuart was in Scotland, you see, they had had a threesome there. Anyway, we danced and then they said "Why don't you strip?" and I said "Why don't you guys strip with me?" which we all did. Then I gave Dave, the Scottish guy oral sex and Stuart, the Kiwi, was just fooling around with my breasts. Then Stuart just sat back and was a voyeur because he wanted Dave to cum, because he hadn't at the last threesome. (Hanson, interview) Consistent with the idea that being a tourist - either foreign or domestic - allows one to be more anonymous makes the idea of having sex with a prostitute more amenable to some men (Kinder, 1994). Toni, who has been a madam for twenty years, offers a concise analysis when she says, "It is very simple, really. Men don't shit in their own nest so a lot of the clients we see are from out of town. That way they think they are safe and that they're not really being unfaithful" (Hanson, fieldnotes).

Domestic tourists in New Zealand include businessmen who travel, men on vacation travelling to different parts of the country and sportsmen playing at tournaments in other cities. Pamela reports that Kiwi clients are sometimes difficult to deal with because they try to push the limits of what is acceptable. Rugby players, for example, often want anal sex and she isn't prepared to accommodate this request (Hanson, interview). Other prostitutes, such as Ann, however, report that they enjoy seeing domestic tourists, particularly businessmen and that some of these clients have become regulars whom they have seen, be it once a month, for years (Hanson, fieldnotes).

Ship Girls

Another aspect of sex-tourism frequently ignored by the New Zealand tourism industry is the contribution of the ship-girls, who are also known as coastal hostesses in some circles. While sailors are credited with having a girl in every port, the ship-girls who have a boy on every boat also have their untold stories. In many respects, being a ship-girl is a lifestyle decision, rather than an occupation. Kiwi ship-girls, for instance, share many commonalities with the pick-up girls of Manila, including exchanging sex with foreigners they find attractive or agreeable for money, meals and drinks, rather than an agreed upon fee-for-service arrangement. Ship-girls often frequent seamen's bars or go to parties on ships to meet sailors.

If a woman decides to spend a night with one of the men, he will, at the very least, give her enough money to cover her taxi fare home, and pay for child minding expenses. He will usually also either give her money, or send a gift from his next port of call if he is a long term boyfriend. Misty, a ship-girl in Tauranga, for instance, has been given more pairs of shoes than she could ever possibly wear (Hanson, fieldnotes). Another commonality is that the foreigners - sailors in the case of coastal hostesses and tourists for the pick-up girls in Manila- sometimes continue sending gifts of money after they have returned to their home countries. Misty told me she once received 54 Valentine cards one February. Various boyfriends have also sent her quite a lot of money from various parts of the world over the years.

Coastal hostesses may have boyfriends from the Philippines, Japan, Russia, England and America on various ships and when their ships are in port the women practice serial monogamy (Hanson, fieldnotes). The work of the ship-girls, however, is ignored by tourism officials. Further, these women are often regarded as undesirable, even by the owners some of the shops where they spend their money.

Kiwi Prostitutes as International Workers

It can be argued that New Zealand prostitutes working abroad is another variation of sex tourism seldom discussed in the tourism literature. Prostitutes as off-shore workers generally happens in one of two ways. The first is that they are recruited by an overseas agency and the second is that they may decide to work as prostitutes, either by going overseas or by starting to work while they are in another country. One evening when I was visiting a parlour, for instance, I was asked what I knew about Macau. An agency from the Portuguese colony had rung, trying to recruit from five to ten Kiwi women, preferably blondes with big busts.

The people at the parlour in Macau were offering a salary of ten thousand NZ dollars a month, the opportunity to make that much again in tips, return airfare and accommodation in exchange for a two month contract. Fearing long working hours, inadequate accommodation by western standards and oppressive terms I cautioned the people involved about prostitutes working for a set sum of money (advising that women negotiating their own fee-for-service would be a better arrangement) and expressed concern about working-girls maintaining control of their passports at all times. Tabloids, such as New Truth, also carry recruitment ads from time to time. The experiences of Kiwi women working in the international sex tourism area varies. Elizabeth, for instance, worked in Kalgoorlie in Australia as she wanted to earn enough money to set herself up as an independent sex worker. Her account offers an insight into the range of experiences women may have working overseas as prostitutes:

The men [in Kalgoorlie] that came in were drunk, just about always drunk. They seemed to have the biggest dicks I've ever come across. I don't know if its the heat, the type of work, or what it was, but they were big and they took ages to come, so you really got thrashed. They were pretty dirty, pretty drunk, and pretty coarse, and it was a living hell. . . . Because you had to work all night, you were expected to sleep during the day. And there was this incredible heat, it was a very hot place up there in the desert. We were supposed to sleep in tin sheds, no insulation. Half the girls were heavy drug users; there were syringes and stuff hidden all over the place and the police would raid every now and then. When she started working on her own, however, her experience was considerably different.

I started working as an independent in Fremantle because nobody else was working there. I'm not very good with competition, and I always try and find a niche. So I did that when I went independent and I earned incredible money. I had a three-storey, $300 a week apartment on the water front. And $300 was quite a lot of rent in Australia at that time. In Perth, by law as an independent, you have to do in-house calls. You're not allowed to share your home with any other person. Men aren't allowed to have anything to do with the industry, so you couldn't have your minder there. You're very vulnerable. You can't have another woman, because then you're running a brothel and you might get busted. At first I was really fearful. But, I discovered that there was no problem and it was very convenient because I could practice the piano all day, and just dash downstairs for a quickie and then go back to my music again. . . . I only worked from nine to five Monday to Friday.

Some women, such as Nikki, have worked overseas and have had predominantly good experiences.

I met a girl in Darwin and she was from Switzerland. She used to go to Singapore every year to work, so she gave me a card and I got a job there. I have lived in Singapore before so I knew the place. It was an excuse to go back, but it was also a place where I knew I could make some money, because there are a lot of rich Chinese, and Arabs. Very wealthy men. People who come to a place like Singapore have to have money. There's all sorts of different grades of prostitutes. You can get one that stands on the corner at night, or you can get one that's hooked up with one through a pimp or you can go into a place that's set up as a parlour.

I worked in an elite place. What happened was that the clients would come in and it was set up like a bar. The girls were there. The clients had to pay a door fee to come in and select a girl. Then they would pay 50 dollars for each girl that they took out. And whatever she makes on top of that is strictly her business. The fee for sex is usually around 800 dollars, at the lowest. You get more if you're younger. Most of my clients were Asians. We had a couple of Australians come through, but mainly my clients were all rich Chinese, people from Hong Kong and Japan. And Arabs, lots of Arabs. Working with the Arabs meant you had to understand their culture. Because they're Muslim, they're very picky about who they chosoe and it is so easy to insult them culturally. Things like they don't like any of your neck exposed so you have to keep it covered and you can't order alcohol because then you're offending Allah - that's the worst thing you could do. If you do that they'll just tell you to leave. You learn those sorts of things fast. I think foreign people have a better understanding of how the sex industry works. I think Kiwis are pretty backwards. Foreigners know that they have to pay for sex and they are willing to pay for it, whereas Kiwi men often think that they should always have it for free. As some foreign men see fair haired and fair skinned women as exotic, and, thus, the opportunities for women to work overseas are readily available.

The following is a personal account from my field notes written while in Fiji:

I noticed a white van pull up so I told Mahonia I thought she might have a customer which was, I decided, too bad as we were just settling into our discussion of the sex-trade in Suva. She went over and leaned in the passenger window of the van to talk with him. A few minutes later she returned, saying that it was me he wanted to see, not her. In negotiating the transaction Mahonia had told him that I was very expensive-- and that my price was a hundred dollars, which is a considerable amount of money in a country where a police officer or a soldier makes about eighty dollars a week. The man said he would pay the asking price. Mahonia said "These black Fijian men, they just want to fuck white women. They will pay two or three times what they would pay me to do that'. From my perspective I was pleased that Mahonia was willing to negotiate on my behalf and that she was willing to share her patch with me. I asked Mahonia to tell the client that I would rather stay and talk with her. She smiled, delivered my message and then returned to sit on the bench so we could continue with our conversation.

The opportunities and experiences of Kiwi women working overseas vary considerably. Working in the area of sex tourism, though, does offer them a viable way to earn money, both in New Zealand and overseas.

The Unacknowledged Contribution of Prostitutes to Tourism

Sex tourism, as documented by the life-histories of women working in the sex-industry, is alive and well in New Zealand, even though it is officially unrecognised. This oversight is one which people in the tourism industry can work towards rectifying. Prostitutes, after all, play an important part in furthering relations between New Zealand and some tourists, both foreign and domestic. Progressive people in the tourism industry should consider supporting the decriminalisation of prostitution.

It is important to specify decriminalisation, rather than legalisation. The New Zealand Prostitutes' Collective is adamant that "We would oppose any attempt to have a legalised, but more tightly state-controlled sex industry, which would actually have the effect of driving further underground those workers and clients who were outside the state controlled sector of the industry" (NZPC, 1989, p. 4). Thus, legalised prostitution, which imposes restrictions on women such as having to have health check-ups but not being eligible for health insurance (as is the situation which exists in Germany) would not be accepted by people working in the New Zealand sex industry. Decriminalisation is also an opportunity for progressive people to support the struggle for improved working conditions of sex-workers. Prostitution is an occupation which is located in the personal service industry.

Other personal service occupations - which share the characteristics of providing one-on-one service, working on a fee-for-service basis and building up a return clientele - include hairdressers, trainers at the gym and some tour guides. Although there are those who would like to think that we are becoming more progressive in our social attitudes, I would argue that it hasn't really changed much since Jan Jordan (1991) wrote, "As sex workers these women live in a society that either refuses to acknowledge their existence, or seeks to condemn and ostracise them" (p. 11). Recognising prostitution as being part of the personal service industry which, in turn, may be an aspect of the tourism industry may help people shift their perspective on sex-work. Legitimising sex-work also moves it away from the stereotypical street 'sex, drugs and sleaze' portrayals which the media is so fond of presenting. Ignoring an estimated nine thousand people working in an industry which generates millions of dollars is absurd. But, then, so is expecting women working in the sex-industry to pay taxes on their earnings while not being eligible for any benefits paid for by their tax dollars. By moving sex-work away from the margin, prostitutes could begin to take their rightful place in society as equal, contributing citizens. And their work could be recognised for what it is-- simply a service.

I would like to thank Kylie St. George for her help with interviewing and Sue-Turner Jones & Val Lazenby for typing the transcripts.

References

Forbes, J. (1988). Black Africans and Native Americans: Color, race and caste in the evolution of Red-Black peoples. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

Grigg, Stevan. (1984). Pleasures of the flesh: Sex and drugs in colonial New Zealand 1840-1915. Wellington: Reed.

Hanson, Jody. (July 1994-December 1995). Notes from New Zealand. Thirty Reports for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation's (Saskatchewan) Morning Edition.

Healy, Catherine. (August, 1996). Personal correspondence.

Hobhouse, Henry. (1989). Forces of change: Why we are the way we are now. London: Sidgwick & Jackson.

Jordan, Jan. (1991). Working girls: Women in the New Zealand sex industry talk to Jan Jordan. Auckland: Penguin.

Kinder, Rachel. (1994). The deviant tourist and the crimogenic location: The case of the New Zealand prostitute. Unpublished honours bachelor's thesis, Massy University, Palmerston North, New Zealand.

Luxemburg, Rosa. (1927). Stagnation and progress of Marxism. In D. Ryazanov (Ed.), Karl Marx: Man, thinker and revolutionist (pp. 106-111). New york: International Publishers.

Middleton, S. (1993). Educating Feminists: Life histories and pedagogy. Teachers College Press: New York.

Papakura, Makerete. (1938/1986). The old time Maori. Auckland: New Women's Press.

< < Previous

Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd. William Blake, The Proverbs of Hell

Truth suppress'd, whether by courts or crooks, will find an avenue to be told. Sheila Steele, injusticebusters.com

---

Publisher Sheila Steele

Got something to say about this or any other stories on this site? Go to injusticebustersblog Participate!

injusticebusters court advice :

How to walk yourself through the justice system

 

Why you should dump your preliminary hearing (written July 1998 and still valid)

 

Sermonette: Sucked in, Diegested and spit out by Saskatoon police (You will find links to many more sermonettes in the sidebar on this page

Another target of Dueck's malice:

Wilf Hathway

Our activism contributed greatly to the good vibes which happened around the civil trial.

Please participate by posting your own photos and links of activism in your community. Index to the stories on this website

This is not regularly updated so if you are looking for a particular story and you have a name or keyword, please use the site search engine(at the bottom of the page) which IS regularly updated

Index to Saskatoon Police stories

This is a pretty good scrapbook for the 1998-2002 period.

Federal Prosecutors Report

Bad forensics

The CSI effect

"Expert" testimony

Reid Technique

 

 

Edmonton police

Halifax

Toronto police

Vancouver police

Winnipeg police

 

2005: In the United States the proven wrongful convictions just keep coming at us!

Canadians who have been wrongfully convicted because of improper investigations combined with zealous Crown

Supreme Court orders new trial and quashes conviction in two more cases with improper disclosure issues

A round-up of wrongful convictions in Canada

Robert Baltovich

Michael Burns

Sebastian Burns

Rodney Cain

Wilbert Coffin (hanged, 1953)

Jason Dix

Jim Driskell

Jody Druken

Randy Druken

Michel Dumont

Peter Frumusa

Walter Gillespie and Robert Mailman

Clayton Johnson

Yvonne Johnson

Herman Kaglik

Darren Koehn

Kulaveeringsam "Kulam" Karthiresu

Stephen Leadbeater

Donald Marshall

Chris McCullough

Michael McTaggart

Felix Michaud

David Milgaard

Guy Paul Morin

Shannon Murrin

Jamie Nelson

Greg Parsons

Benoit Proulx

Atif Rafay

Louise Reynolds

Thomas Sophonow

Gary Staples

Steven Truscott

Joe Warren

Leon Walchuk

 

AIDWYC

Innocence Project (Canada)

Innocence Project (U.S.)

Northwest Law Center on Wrongful Convictions

 

Kirstin Lobato

Jeffrey Scott Hornoff

Willie Upshaw

Hurricane Carter

Guildford 4

Birmingham 6

Amirault

Houston

U.S. wrongful convictions: Exonerateed

Laurence Adams

Ludrate Burton

Stephen Cowans

Wilton Dedge

Albert Johnson

Kenneth Marsh

Dwayne McKinney

James Bernard Parker

Peter Reilly

Peter Rose

Sylvester Smith

Clifford St. Joseph

John Stoll

Marty Tankleff

 

Still working on it:

Dennis Deschaine

Dennis Perry

Tim Sandfort