The oldest Internet profession

In the early go-go stages of Internet mania (c.f., dot.com bubble), I worked for one of the largest and best known web-hosting companies. Somewhere along the line, the company acquired a couple of hosting providers that had porn sites on their client lists. We even ended up renaming our company after one of these porn providers. (It should go without saying that, while I was in marketing, I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.)

Although we did keep that one name, mostly what we wanted from these porn hubs was their data centers and bandwidth. Not their client lists. We really didn't want to be associated with the unsavory aspects of the porn biz. The clients we wanted to be associated with were Fortune 500's; household name brands that wanted an Internet presence (we hosted Tiffany.com); crazy-money Internet startups like pets.com (an idea that I guess was before its time; still regret I never got a puppet when I had the chance).

It's no secret that the growth of the Internet was and continues to be driven by porn. Think about it: pretty much everyone with a smartphone can make porn and upload it so others can "enjoy" (ahem) it. And all those eager consumers out there. Porn requires racks full of servers to store all those videos and images, and oodles of bandwidth to make them available to Joe Schmoe.

Somewhere along the line, my company decided to purge our client lists of porno outfits. Our ideal customers, in addition to not offering pornography, also hired us to manage their servers for them. The porn companies preferred to manage things for themselves. Anyway, we informed the pornsters that we no longer wanted them around, and they just ignored us. On D-Day, we sent a squadron of techies in to shut them down and fisticuffs ensued. The data center that was the scene of this brouhaha was in Arizona. The Wild West! At least the porn techies weren't packing heat. (It was a kinder, gentler time.)

Things, I guess, haven't changed all that much. 

Porn is still a big Internet deal, and some folks still don't want it around.

OnlyFan's is not a web hoster the way my old company was. From what I can tell, their platform is hosted by Amazon. But they are a subscription service that gives porn content creators a place where their clients can access the content they produce. So in that sense, they're doing hosting. Anyway, OnlyFan's wants to go public, and they've been trying to transition away from porn into more mainstream forms of entertainment and other content. So they tried giving all their porn stars the boot.

Porn stars, sex workers, and avid consumers were not going to take this decision lying down. After a major outcry, OnlyFan's reversed its decision.

Some sex workers say the reversal could signify a small step toward legitimizing and destigmatizing sex work, but many are still living in a state of uncertainty. Erotic content creators say they must now operate on a platform that betrayed their trust them while also looking for other sites to support their work and their livelihood. (Source: Washington Post)

Porn is a pretty sordid business. While it may not be the oldest profession, I do know that once photography became a thing, pornographic images followed right along. (For all I know, porn may have been the next thing on the printing press after the Guttenberg Bible.)

The pornographers will always be with us.

There's so much that's skeevy about porn: exploitation of women, glorification of sexual assault, abuse of children. But if people want to indulge in good, clean porn - not the truly gross stuff - and if sex workers want to make a better living as porn stars than they can on the streets, they should be able to. I'm not a consumer, but so what? There's a lot of things I don't consume.

And if the Internet makes it safer for legit sex workers, i.e., those specializing in sex between consenting adults, to make a living. To make more than they can by risking their lives working the streets or getting pimped out, or getting exploited by old school porn film makers. 

Still, I can't help but think that there's a downside to all this 24/7 insta availability of porn. It's too prevalent, too easy, too addictive. There may be something to say for the old days of sneaking down to the "adult book store", or stopping in for a peep at a Times Square peep show. You had to go out of your way, which was probably better for the heart, mind, and soul of the consumer, if not for the folks whose artistry was being consumed.

But what do I know? My experience with porn is pretty limited. 

In my younger days, I did go to a couple of porn "art" films - nothing hardcore - just for the experience. 

One was 101 Acts of Love. I went with a couple of friends who were a couple. It was pretty dumb, and we ended up laughing through most of it. (It was about a female sex therapist trying to help a young couple improve their sex life.) My other porn flick - which I asked my BF (later husband) to take me to - was Behind the Green Door. A classic of the genre it may have been, but I was a combo of embarrassed and bored, and we left part way through. 

When Hustler was a thing, a friend and I bought a copy to see what the fuss was about. We found it so gross and disturbing that we wrapped it up in a paper bag and threw it out in a trash bin around the corner. No way that was going out with my trash. Someone might read Playboy for the articles, but I don't think there was any redeeming social or aesthetic value to Hustler. Nearly 50 years after the fact, I can still remember one of the crude and decidedly unfunny cartoons.

Other than that, my other porn experiences were inadvertent.

In the early days of the web, during the Monica Lewinsky era of the Clinton Administration, I was working on a weekend and decided to check out what (if anything) the White House was saying about the controversy. What I forgot was that the address I was looking for was whitehouse.gov, not .com, which was a notorious porn site. My first thought when the images started populating my screen was that the White House website had been hacked. But no. I unplugged that desktop pretty quickly.

A few years later, while working at the aforementioned web hosting provider, I would often look at a website called "Fucked Company." This was a well-known website of the dot.com era that was more or less a dead pool. You could consult it for gossip on on, well, fucked companies. The site was pretty funny, and my company made an occasional guest appearance in its annals. 

Over lunch one day, in pursuit of a some scoop or at least a couple of laughs/cries, I went to type in fuckedcompany.com. Unthinkingly, I accidentally typed in "getfucked." Big mistake. Porn paradise. Images kept popping up faster than I could click them closed. Quickly to the off button on the surge protector!

Despite my limited experience, I think I'd recognize porn when I see it. I just hope not to see it. 

Still, I find it interesting that porn hosting is still in the news after all these years. I shouldn't be surprised. After all, it's undoubtedly the oldest Internet profession.