The public-private distinction as a special relevance to women’s rights: Part II
- Łucja Jastrzębska
- Feb 23, 2022
- 5 min read
Focusing on violent pornography, bodily autonomy and consent

In part I, in section I, I will outlined the liberal view that the public-private distinction should be protected because it protects the autonomy of free choices. However, I will countered this by arguing that though pornography can liberate some women in sex work, it does not consider that so-called free choice is made under conditions of restricted choice (due to injustice/inequality). So, while these free choices may seem autonomous, they are actually due to adaptive preferences. I then considered the objection that adaptive preferences illuminate that everything one believes and desires are adaptive preferences. However, I argued that the difference is that these adaptive preferences of porn, unlike others, are due to unjust positions/conventions and perpetuate women in roles of disempowerment.
In this part, section II, I will build on the concept of adaptive preferences by arguing that the concept of bodily autonomy is a solution for ensuring that protections for women are upheld when abandoning the public-private distinction. I will consider the objection that if bodily autonomy is necessary for the respect of women, then surely violent pornography would be permissible if both adults have consented to it. Nevertheless, I will argue that no matter how liberating pornography and sex work may feel to women, it still objectifies a woman’s body and thus limiting bodily autonomy. Henceforth, respect for bodily autonomy becomes an adaptive preference that all individuals become accustomed to utilising.

Image courtesy of @arthunter.me
II. Bodily Autonomy
The concept of bodily autonomy is a solution for ensuring that when abandoning the public-private distinction, protections for women are upkept. When referring to bodily autonomy, I will relate to the right that women have the right to self-govern their bodies by making decisions about their health, body and sexual life without fearing violence or discrimination. For example, the public-private distinction created an atmosphere where violence against women was not taken seriously as many people refuse to accept private sphere violence as a human rights violation as it is not viewed as a public concern. It is not a state's business with whom one has relationships/sex or what kind of porn one watches. However, the woman who has a relationship with a man who watches violent sex has not consented to the way viewing violent porn has affected her partner.
In this way, it is not just an individual consenting to making or watching violent pornography, but involves their partner as another individual who has not consented; so, their bodily autonomy is at risk. Henceforth, discarding the public-private distinction protects women's bodies from domestic abuse. This is viewed as a family affair that should not be interfered with as what people do in their own home is their own matter, such as relationships one has, sexual fantasies and gender roles. Such scenarios likely lead to governmental withdrawals from conventions that aid to help women in domestic violence situations, such as Poland’s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention (2020). In this way, the individual choices and how she wishes to use her body are subject to interference and restrictions of the state and her liberty to act autonomously, such as seeking protection, is denied. This demonstrates that if the public-private distinction were abolished, states would protect women's bodily autonomy more efficiently, creating an atmosphere of respect that further protects women's rights. Henceforth, respect for bodily autonomy becomes an adaptive preference that all individuals become accustomed to utilising.
An objection could be that if bodily autonomy is necessary for the respect of women, then surely violent pornography would be permissible if both adults have consented to it. For example, participating in certain kinds of pornography after consent can be a woman's way to express her sexuality and self-empowerment as a free human being. If the public-private distinction is abolished, women would not participate in violent pornography that they may highly enjoy, such as BDSM. In this way, the abandonment of the public-private distinction would disallow women to liberate themselves in their freedom of sexual expression and restrict women's rights. Women want to be protected from abuse in their private lives as well as in the public sphere without the cost of that safety affecting their pleasures and desires. Nevertheless, I argue that the public consciousness of pornography needs to be addressed by the state to ensure bodily autonomy. To reduce rape, domestic violence and sexual harassment that have risen drastically, this necessarily requires attention to individuals' commercial output.
No matter how liberating pornography and sex work may seem to women, it still objectifies a woman’s body, thus limiting bodily autonomy. By the term objectification, I will argue that a woman is degraded to the status of an object, therefore demining her human rights. For example, Catherine MacKinnon illuminates that pornography is sex between people and things, humans and pieces of paper/screens, real men and unreal women. In this way, women are viewed as ‘the Other’, treated as things, objectified and made other than human. This Other-hood, famously developed by Simone de Beauvoir, suggests that this expression degrades women as free human beings into objects seen as secondary to the male. By being objectified by men in porn, women believe they are empowering themselves in their bodily autonomy, controlling the way they want their bodies to be viewed; nevertheless, she finds herself being compelled and oppressed to the status of the Other and negatively stabilised as an object.
If the dehumanisation of women amounts to sexual solipsism, the view that the self is all that can be known to exist, thus subordinating, silencing women and treating them as things, then sexual solipsism becomes a moral and political problem stemming from pornography that could be resolved by removing the public-private distinction. I do not argue that all-female sex work should be restricted and censored as 'deviant sexual representation or expression', as some sex work can be a respectful transition that women benefit from. For instance, creating a sex tape with one's partner, financially supporting oneself, or expressing a woman's sexuality. However, sex work, particularly porn and even prostitution, is not a relationship that respects a woman or her bodily autonomy as a whole. Instead, the woman's body is viewed as a sexual object that is used for the purpose and intention of sexual pleasure, even if all parties have consented to the act. This is different to art as drawings and photography of naked bodies hold a deeper meaning with a different intention, whilst porn exists with the purpose of objectification and self-pleasure; there is no respect for the content of the body. In this way, she is no longer useful to the man when her body is not performing a sexual act. Hence, not only violent pornography but regular pornography also objectifies women, silences them and limits their bodily autonomy as they are not controlling how the viewers use their bodies. Thus, harming their integrity without their consent and hence women's bodily autonomy needs to be protected more extensively by the state.
Stay tuned for part III on consent.
Find out more:
Amnesty International. “My Body My Rights.” 2021.
Barbara Ellis O’Dair. Abby Tallmer. “Feminism and Pornography.” Feminist Review No.36 (1990).
BBC News. “Istanbul Convention: Poland to leave European Treaty on Violence against Women.” 25/07/2020.
Elisabeth Reichert. “Women’s Rights are Human Rights: Platform for Action.” International Social Work Vol. 41, No. 3 (1998): 371-284.
Rae Langton. “Sexual Solipsism.” Philosophical Topics: Feminist Perspectives on Language, Knowledge and Reality Vol. 23, No. 2 (1995).
Simone de Beauvoir. The Second Sex. Edited by Constance Borde and Sheila Malovany-Chevallier. London: Vintage, 2011. p92.
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