Jay Poole & Ryan Milligan. Sexuality & Culture. Volume 22, Issue 4. December 2018.
The Internet, as an integral part of global culture, has become a location offering a smorgasbord of pornographic images and films depicting multiple and fluid ways of being sexual. For males who identify as gay and/or queer, the Internet offers opportunities to explore same-sex sexualities in ways that have heretofore been challenging; thus, constructions of sexual identity can be interrogated, (re)examined, and (re)imagined. New explorations of sexualities may be the result of interface with Internet pornography, which opens spaces for not yet experienced ways of being sexual. Using qualitative methodology, this project engages the voices of three males who identify as gay and/or queer and focuses on how the Internet, particularly pornography on the Internet, impacts their sexual experiences and their sexual identities. Indeed, we argue here that the Internet does impact sexuality, and these men help to raise questions about what is possible with regard to sexuality and sexual identity.
Introduction
Much of queer history is traced through the presence, real or assumed, of same-sex activity and/or desire within the context of embodied or fantasized acts that have been defined as sexual. Hence, sexuality emerges as a construction of identity within the experiences of one’s sexual actions or imagination. Those who write about queerness often link sexual desire with sexuality, which seems to bring us to sexual identity—the process and act of claiming a descriptive label that denotes how one expresses sexuality. Queer theories offer critiques of the codification that has occurred regarding sexual identities and compel us to deconstruct the categories that have become so reified in past and current history. Foucault (1978), Jagose (1997), Hall (2003), Sullivan (2003), and others remind us that sexual identity is a project of modernism in that deductive processes and efforts to define identity led to the naming of such identities as “homosexual,” “heterosexual,” “bisexual,” “transsexual,” etc. Further, modern sexual identities have served the purpose of oppressing those who claim them, specifically those who claim something beyond “heterosexuality;” however, according to Foucault (1978), they also served to mobilize people into political action on behalf of those who are oppressed. Indeed, as “homosexuality” came to exist as pathological, those who claimed the “diagnosis” mobilized around the commonality of same-sex desire. Gay identity and the rights to go along with it became paramount in the social revolution in America in the 1960s and 1970s. “Gay Pride!” was the rallying cry for those who enjoyed same-sex sexuality. Fuss (1989) speaks of the use of essentialism as political strategy and, as we have seen, the “gay liberation movement” was fueled by essentialized identity. Ironically, it seems that the project of defining sexualities into sexual identities resulted in the movement to liberate it.
Perhaps it is the power that resides in sexual identity categories that makes it so difficult to disrupt them. The coming out experience has been read as liberating, and perhaps it is experienced in that way for many people. Claiming an identity is most certainly affirming, and according to many, a powerful experience, especially for particular groups, e.g., gay White men (Villicana et al. 2016). However, one may question elements of hegemony as one bursts through the closet door into being a “gay” man, “lesbian” woman, or any other codified identity. Guzman (2006) points out that race and ethnicity, among other elements, undergird gay identities and contribute to how one can be gay. Indeed, resistance to languaging sexuality beyond identities such as “gay,” “lesbian,” “bisexual,” etc. seems to be centered on the perceived loss of power that may occur if such labels are abandoned. As Butler (1996) suggests, “coming out” may indeed be coming into an ongoing dominant structure that persists in naming what may indeed be unnamable. Butler (1993) asks, “If sexuality is to be disclosed, what will be taken as the true determinant of its meaning…?” (p. 17). Butler goes on to suggest that sexual practice often engages imagination and activities that are experienced complexly in one’s interpersonal space—a blend of acts, fantasies, orifices, genitals, parts of the body, objects, and other products of the imagination that serve to fulfill sexual desire. What in this erotic concoction should emerge as one’s sexual identity? One of the traditional categories may fit or, in a perceived radical act, some have been laying claim on “queer” to name themselves; however, this practice seems to rail against the foundation of queer as a space where there is no one thing, no name, no finished product (Hall, 2003). It seems that sexual history present and future will be constructed on the narratives that are spun from sexual practice as it continues to evolve (Twenge et al. 2015). One’s sexual practice exists within one’s sexual desire, and it is here in the abyss of sexual desire that this project attempts to explore the impact of Internet pornography on sexuality and sexual identity with particular focus on gay males.
Background
Since its inception, the Internet has offered residence to a virtual sexual buffet that attempts to satisfy the taste buds of those who click on a particular website. There seems to be no end to the number of Internet spaces dedicated to public sexual acts that are beyond the scope of description with existing language. Indeed, transcending boundaries around sexual acts has demanded new languages that always seem to be lagging behind the images one may encounter on the Internet. Fejes (2002), among others, argues that the Internet has become a location for gay males to safely view male-male same-sex sex acts. Historically, in America, same-sex sexual content has only been available in back ally bookstores and through underground sources (Helms, 2003). Now, the Internet offers an endless selection of male-male sexual films and images. Mercer (2017) asserts that male same-sex pornography, fueled by the Internet, is multidimensional and includes a spectrum of masculine representations, e.g. “Bear,” “Otter,” “Twink,” etc. Moreover, the viewer of male same-sex pornography is presented with dynamic iterations of what males may imagine and do with each other sexually.
It is within the context of the cyber-sexual experience and marketplace that we explore sexualities and possible sexual identities that may emerge from sexual acts witnessed and/or performed within or as a result of one’s virtual experiences. As we document and explore this topic with the participants, we engage the following questions: What are some of the sexual images/experiences/opportunities that exist on the Internet? Once identified, how do these images and opportunities affect sexuality and sexual identity? What, if any, discourse emerges as a result of blurred or complex sexual desires that are fulfilled by Internet experiences? How have Internet experiences queered sexual identity? Our aim is to engage the reader in questioning how Internet pornography may or may not impact sexuality and sexual identity. We will offer our own theorizing around “Nettersexuality” as a way of conceptualizing the complexity of interpersonal sexual experiences that exist as a result of the Internet. Finally, using the voices of three men who identify as “gay,” we will reflect upon their perceptions of the impact of the Internet on their sexualities, sexual identities, and sexual experiences. Our focus will be men who identify as gay because of personal interests with this population and the predominance of Internet sexual sites targeted toward males both “gay” and “straight” (Morrison et al. 2007; Helms 2003). In particular, we will explore sexual identity possibilities created by Internet pornography, and we consider with our participants how sexuality may be imagined and fulfilled through engaging with Internet pornography. We intend to provoke the reader to challenge the concept of sexual identity and to examine the possibilities that are created in the virtual world not only for “gay” males, but also for all people.
Locating Male-Male Same-Sex Pornography in the Literature
Morrison et al. (2007) reference a statement made by Smith (1994) that asserts the lack of research and theorizing relative to so-called gay pornography, and the aforementioned authors conclude that Smith’s statement remains true despite the advent of the availability of porn on the Internet in the time elapsed between 1994 and 2007. A review of the literature relative to “gay” male pornography by Bishop (2015) confirms that scholarly study of this topic has only recently begun, and there are multiple frameworks used in inquiry. Visual depictions of male-male sexual activity appear to be prolific on the Internet and important to males who identify as gay; yet, scholarly inquiry and public discussion of such media seem to be curiously missing (Morrison 2004). Doring’s (2009) review of the literature on the Internet’s effect on sexuality offers an excellent clearinghouse of sorts with references to many, if not all, of the studies related to the broad topic including the presence of “sub-cultures” based on sexual orientation. She confirms that there are indeed gaps in the literature and notes a focus on negative effects of Internet porn and that little has been done with regard to potential benefits. While not specifically focused on males who identify as gay (Garlick 2011), working from Marcuse’s theories about sexual revolution, raises a question about whether or not the Internet has facilitated a new sexual revolution given that the availability of sexual materials and “cybersex” continues to be prolific within Internet spaces. Garlick’s assertion is that sex and images of sex, with the help of the Internet, seems to be more “out in the open” with an important note about masculine imagery and masculinity as dominant in Internet pornography. Taking up the notion of masculinity, Lanzieri and Hildebrandt (2011) explore how hegemony influences males who identify as gay to be attracted to muscular and athletic men. Burke (2015) asserts that “straight” performers in male same-sex pornography are depicted more as traditionally masculine while “gay” performers are depicted as more traditionally “feminine.” These depictions emulate a heterosexual presentation of same-sex sexual acts, which reiterates traditional gender roles and, as Butler (1990) would suggest, gender performance.
Perhaps obviously, Butler’s theorizing about the performance of gender is central in the definition of what constitutes masculinity, and relative to this are notions of power and dominance that often become associated with sexual fantasy and images of fantasy. There are assertions that gay pornography with its supposed emphasis on the idealized male body—muscular, well proportioned, and machine-like—creates opportunities for gay men to experience their own bodies negatively as they compare personal attributes to the attributes of the men they consume via pornographic imagery (Harris 1997; Murphy 2001). In contrast to the notion that watching idealized images creates spaces for experiencing negative self-image, a study by Morrison et al. (2007) seems to reveal that there is little empirical support for the idea that watching supposedly ideal men have sex with each other makes less than ideal men who identify as gay feel badly about themselves. Indeed, participants in a study by Morrison (2004) voiced that pornography was utilitarian in that it provided an aid for masturbation without perceived influence on identity, either positive or negative. It is important to note that neither of these studies seems to address questions about how the participants experienced their sexuality when engaged with pornography. If gay men are using pornography to fulfill sexual desire, which the limited empirical evidence seems to suggest, how is that desire shaped and reshaped by what is possible on the Internet? Of course, this question gets to what we are interested in here. Before proceeding to our discussion with the men who participated in our study, it must be said that the Internet is often the only location where gay men can see other men being sexual and affectionate with each other. As Bergling (2001) points out, American society is particularly “sissyphobic” and this apparent aversion to what has been constructed as “feminine” (including male-male sexual expression) is extremely influential in how males are allowed to observe or demonstrate attraction or affection for one another. While mainstream media has become more inclusive of “gayness,” the notion of two guys holding hands or kissing in public continues to be quite unacceptable. It is difficult for young people who are exploring sexual identities to find role models other than those now contextualized in heteronormative frames. In the past, young people exploring sexuality may have stumbled across a Playboy or Hustler magazine or some guidebook to heterosexual sex and of course they had and continue to have each other’s bodies with which to experiment sexually. Images of same-sex sex were few and far between. Young people today who are attempting to answer questions of sexual desire and identity may turn to the Internet for information about how to be sexual, and they will find a smorgasbord of ways to engage in sex (Fejes 2002). As Helms (2003) points out in his essay, “Grade school and high school kids who used to devote their after-school hours to hobbies and television and sports now hurry home to log onto Internet porn sites, and their choices, already abundant, increase daily” (p. 28). Those who are on the prudish side might offer a critique of how this apparent abundance may negatively affect development and, conversely, those who embrace emancipation through possibility may point out the potential for discovering sexual freedom via the Internet. The sexual marketplace that exists on the Internet seems to enhance the objectification of others for the sake of sexual pleasure, and Bauman (2003) suggests that objectifying and consuming others for the sake of personal pleasure impacts the moral economy while enhancing the fiscal economy related to the sex industry. Illing (2018), in an article outlining an interview with Seth Stephens-Davidowitz (author of Everybody Lies), points out that according to data about Google searches, people are watching non-heterosexual pornography in significantly large numbers and in areas where heterosexual identity is highly valued, e.g., the Deep South and Midwest United States. Additionally, if Internet searches can be correlated to sexual fantasy, there seems to be intense pressure to conform to norms despite Internet searches that indicate people are engaged in a wide variety of sexual fantasies. Much more inquiry is needed in this area of Internet fantasization and sexual identities. No doubt, the Internet is a location for the exploration of multiple sexual fantasies and sexualities, and it serves as a public space to document sexual practices as it concurrently influences them. The negative aspects of sexual images on the Internet and the social structures they reinforce are countered with possibilities that exist for experiencing sexualities in plural ways. What is important to recognize is that the Internet can and does provide a private, perhaps disembodied opportunity for anyone with access to it to experience an endless array of sexual acts as one engages in self-satisfying sexual activity either alone or with a partner or partners. Ross (2005) suggests that the Internet allows for a “… surrogate body to experiment and to be experimented upon [sexually]” (p. 343). It is within this personal engagement with Internet beings and images that one begins to open opportunities to “queer” sexuality as one bends and, sometimes, breaks the rules that are prescribed by one’s chosen sexual identity. Ross et al. (2005) discovered that 11% of their sample of 244 men who engaged in sexual activity on the Internet identified as heterosexual, yet they also admitted to viewing male-male same sex pornography and engaging in cyber-sexual relationships with other men—an interesting discovery given the strict rules of male-male contact in face-to-face encounters. Daneback et al. (2012) assert that men who have private access to the Internet seek information about sexuality more often than men who have shared access. This may indicate that men can privately explore sex and sexuality online. What is important to recognize is that the queer spaces that exist in cyberspace must be carefully examined, not only for their connection to the heteronormative, patriarchal structures that serve to oppress the so-called feminine and those people who embody it, but also for the opportunities they offer in experiencing sexual identities between and beyond the boundaries of particular sexual categories. Perhaps the Internet could be used not only to explore so-called queer sexualities, but also to serve as a location for educating people about sexual health and the broad diversity of sexualities and gender identities (Mustanski et al. 2011). Pope (2017) in an Esquire article discusses the phenomenon of “straight” men who are “terrified” they are gay, alluding to the unofficial syndrome of Homosexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (HOCD), which is not included in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. In the article, men reveal their angst related to ongoing fantasies about same-sex activities despite their identities as “straight” men. Apparently, they scour the Internet for information about their concerns and, perhaps, they engage in fulfilling some of their same-sex desires. What is interesting here is that such thinking is sometimes pathologized rather than contextualized as being on the spectrum of sexual identities. This pathologizing of sexuality harkens back to the days of “homosexuality” as a mental disorder. Perhaps these men are, in some way, responding to social pressures about being “straight.” Perhaps they do indeed have same-sex desires but are unable to come to terms with them. Indeed, many people seem to search for sexual information and they are quite sexually experimental on the Internet.
Using cyberspace, people are creating interesting identity spaces with such labels as “Emo,” “Pomosexual,” “Pansexual,” or “Goth,” where there is some propensity to engage in sexual acts or sexual identities that confront the status quo; however, these people are on the fringes and are often targeted by media and their peers as “disturbed” or “delinquent.” Thus, the price for pushing boundaries seems to be exclusion as identities are scrutinized, labeled, and adjudicated by peers, those in authority, and the media; yet, there are those willing to continue to engage in challenging dominant identities. Indeed, what seemed to emerge in our work was that our participants frequently confronted their own sexual identities and desires as they used the Internet to participate in the consumption of pornography.
Three Men and Their Computers
Methodology
The researchers were inspired by feminist informed qualitative approaches, meaning that there was intentional disruption of the roles of researcher/researched. Potential participants were selected from a convenience sample, and the project was described to them. The authors revealed to potential participants that they both identify as gay/queer. Ultimately, ten participants expressed interest in being part of the project; yet, only three actually agreed to the interviews. The researchers asked those who declined to participate if they would tell us about their decisions, and the common theme was that the project was “too personal.” Obviously, the project is very personal, and it is important to recognize that personal experience is at the heart of recognizing and fulfilling one’s sexual desires. The authors suspect that recording the interviews had something to do with participants deciding not to be involved. Our internal sexual experiences, through fantasy and imagination, are born of our sexual desires, which may be quite different from what we claim to experience. People may imagine that they are able to be sexual in ways that they may never express, other than in their own minds. The differential that exists between the internal and external sex life seems to, in itself, create opportunities for sexual identities beyond what we typically consider, with the Internet, as Garlick (2011) suggests, being a location to engage in sexuality without anyone knowing your secrets. Perhaps those who declined to be a part of this effort were afraid to reveal too much. Perhaps they did not want to make public what exists in private spaces or perhaps they simply did not want to take the time. In any case, it is worth noting that people do not readily seem to be willing to delve too deeply into personal sexual experiences, which is no surprise given our social and cultural rules about sexuality. As Foucault (1978) pointed out, Victorian silence about sexuality seems to echo loudly when it comes to public discourse about sexuality and sexual identities.
Despite the small size of the sample, the information that the participants shared is rich and important to expanding our knowledge about sexuality. The three participants ranged in age from 21 years old to 32 years old. All identified as Caucasian, and all three were in college, two as undergraduates and one as a graduate student. One of the participants, at the time of the interview, had been an actor/model in several “gay-themed” adult films. All had access to computers on a regular basis and reported that they were very comfortable with using a computer. Each participant was interviewed separately with both authors present. A semi-structured set of guiding questions and probes was used, and the authors also engaged freely in deeper discussion. The interviews were audio-recorded.
To analyze the data, the authors listened to the interviews at least two times after they were completed and took notes on the content of the verbal exchanges with participants. Then, the authors compared notes about content and themes within responses to the four major interview questions.
Results
Despite the small size of the sample, some interesting themes emerged from the interactions with participants. Overall, the participants did not express a dramatic change in identities while using the Internet; however, they did express exploration of sexual fantasy and sexualities that were between and beyond what they reported experiencing in their lives outside the internet. The themes are explored in more depth below.
Time and Place on the Internet
The participants were asked to discuss how much time they spent online each week and then to approximate how much of that time was spent devoted to personal sexual exploration. The average amount of time was 21 h spent online each week with approximately 13 h devoted to personal sexual exploration. The participants mentioned several common websites that they visited including Xtube, Gay.com, Manhunt, Adam for Adam, Sean Cody.com, and Gay College Sex Parties.com. They reported that the main purpose for visiting these sites was to view pornographic materials and/or to engage with others anonymously in chat rooms. One of the participants talked about being drawn to “amateur” sites, where sexual acts between men are portrayed in a fashion that suggests they have been filmed without any attention to production value or storyline, emulating a “real” environment. All the participants talked about interest in sites that portray athletic and muscular men, which supports Lanzieri and Hildebrandt (2011) assertion that gay men are drawn to hegemonic masculinity. One of the participants said, “I like to see two real men getting it on.”. “I want to see men having sex, not boys or sissy guys.”, says another. It is interesting to note that two of the websites mentioned are specifically known for being “gay for pay” sites—where supposedly “straight” athletic guys engage in gay sex, again, suggesting that sexual desire is sparked by what appears to be a stereotypical representation of maleness. As Fejes (2002) says, “Gay male desire and its articulation as identity has a complex relationship to the heterosexual regime of power and domination” (p. 99). The participants here seem to express this complexity through engaging Internet pornography to view “straight” men engaged in same-sex sexual activity. There was some expression of not having interest in seemingly “gay” guys engaged in sex—if gay is taken to indicate stereotypical representations of effeminate men engaged in sexual activity. Yet, the participants identify as “gay” and presumably have sex with other men who identify as gay. Through the Internet, they can view and, perhaps, imagine themselves as “straight” men who can have sex with other “straight” men.
Perceptions of Normality
Participants were asked to discuss what they perceive as “normal” gay sexual behavior and to also talk about what is “normal” on the Internet. Two sub-themes emerged regarding perceptions of what is normal.
Normal “Gay” Sexual Behavior
In response to being asked what they see as normal sexual behavior, all mentioned that gay men are usually thought of as promiscuous and that there was an expectation that you were either a “top” or a “bottom” depending on how you like to engage sexually. This notion of top/bottom reflects the dominant/subordinate binary that is grounded in traditionally constructed hetero-sex roles. They also discussed how many people seem to mold gay relationships after heterosexual relationships in that there must be a monogamous sexualized life-long bond between two people. All the participants talked about how they were uncertain of the reality of an idealized relationship with another male, and one says, “…gay men are promiscuous until they find a partner and settle down.” Another says, “I think that there is more of a desire [among gay men] to be more emotional with each other [rather than sexual].” The ideal of a committed long-term relationship seems to dominate Western culture, and recent political struggles about same-sex marriage point to an ongoing paradigm of finding the right person with whom to form a life partnership. Our participants echoed this ideal despite their own personal experiences with enjoying multiple sexual partners. One of them says, “In real life, I am with my partner and we are the ‘perfect’ gay couple…, but, on the Internet, I can be as sleazy as I want to be with as many people as I want to be [referencing time spent in chat rooms].” The participant who was a performer in gay pornographic films says, “More [gay] people want monogamous relationships.” He also said, “I think that porn gives people an opportunity to fantasize without being unfaithful.”
Normal “Gay” Sexual Behavior on the Internet
The participants were also asked to talk about the notion of normal in the context of sexualized activity on the Internet. One participant said, “There is no normal on the Internet, and on the other hand, everything is normal on the Internet.” He explains this by talking about the Internet as a place where anyone can explore multiple sexualities. “For instance, I can jump from two guys having hot sex to two guys and a girl getting it on, then I jump over to straight porn because I love watching a woman getting slammed hard.” Another participant says, “The Internet makes everything normal,” explaining that on the Internet you can explore things that you would not think about trying in “real life.” One participant says, “[On the Internet] I have the opportunity to visit sites I would never think about revealing [to others]. Noting the anonymity offered by the Internet one participant says, “I can go to websites that portray, you know…water sports or stuff like that, and I would never present that as who I am [sexually].” Another says, “I visit a bondage site, but I would never do that out of the four corners of my room, and my boyfriend has not clue!” Note here the clandestine aspect of being able to be sexual in ways that are not acceptable publically in most places. Note also that the participants don’t claim particular identities, e.g., sadomasochist; yet, they engage in viewing sexual activities that are associated with such identities. There is a certain freedom here that does not seem to exist beyond the Internet. As Ross (2005) says, “The changing contexts of sexual behavior, including the Internet, challenge the essentializing of the self and sexuality.”
Our participants confirm that one can be sexual differently via the Internet and that this experience can be informative and freeing. One participant says, “It [the Internet] exposed me and opened up my sexual world to things I would have never known turned me on.” By opening up boundaries, the Internet has created opportunities for moving beyond what might have been into what may be. As Reid (1996) suggests, virtual realities offered by the Internet aid in transcending the boundaries of the body making it possible to, “… bypass the boundaries delineated by cultural constructs of beauty, ugliness, and fashion” (p. 329). As one of the participants said, “Who I am on the Internet is not the same as who I am when I am with other people. I mean, as a gay guy I have to be a certain way…you know, I have to be fit and look good. But, on the Internet, I love watching guys who are ‘Bears’ [hairy, overweight, and ultra-masculine]. It turns me on so much to think about being with a big guy but I would never choose that for real.” Indeed, the Internet represents a virtual world where reality, sexually or otherwise, is (re)defined in ways that are only limited by the imagination.
Performance and Awareness in Cyberspace
As mentioned above, one of the participants was an actor/model in gay themed pornographic films, and we asked him to elaborate on his experiences in the industry as related to his own sexual identity and use of the Internet sexually. He said, “Being in the business has not changed me sexually…though I do think I can connect better to others in my personal [sex] life because I perform in films.” He also talked quite a bit about how the business of gay pornography capitalizes on heteronormative representations of sexual partnering. For example, he says, “…the business plays into the stereotypes of top/bottom…which [I think] stems from fantasy.” He goes on to say, “In the business, most actors are open to being either a top or bottom depending on the scene.” He notes that despite the representation that there are dominant/subordinate identities, this is for the purpose of performance and does not reflect who the performers are outside the space of the scene they are in. One might consider (Butler 1990, 1996) and the notion that roles are iterated and reiterated through performance, in this case through the performance of same-sex sex acts contextualized in a dominate/subordinate binary that echoes what has been constructed as traditional heterosexual, “natural” sex. As our participant says, “When I am a bottom in a scene, I am conscious of being submissive, moaning with pleasure as I give myself to the top who is definitely in control.” Here, he performs an expectation that is grounded in what Western culture considers “natural” sexuality—even natural between two men. When considering what the participant said about the differences between what is performed and what the performers are willing to do based on the scene, one might conclude that subjugation to a heteronormative sexual experience is not a given, even in the porn industry. Fejes (2002) discusses Linda Williams’ work related to pornography as constructing various sexual utopias of abundance and he goes on to talk about affirmative utopias in gay pornography, “…where heterosexuality often exists as a repressive violent force continually at war with gay male desire” (p. 30). Indeed, gay pornography can represent an affirmation of one’s marginalized identity, creating possibilities for celebrating what is deemed deviant in the mainstream. One participant says, “The Internet is a factor in the evolution of sexuality in that is a safeguard for people…a source for exploring many different things.” Obendorf (2006) suggests that gay pornography is one of the few places where one can observe same-sex sexual practices and may be a central source of sex education for gay men as well as a place for stigma perpetuated by heterosexism to be confronted. One participant says, “All people of any age can explore sex on the Internet…in a safe and positive way.” Another says, “[Through the Internet] people are being more sexually aware of all different kinds of sex [and sexual identities].” Indeed, it seems that the Internet offers, if nothing else, a plethora of possibilities for what and how one can be.
When asked to talk about how their sexual experiences on the Internet were different from their non-Internet sexual experiences, there appears to be a bending and blurring of roles. All of them alluded to their exploration of sexual acts that they personally had not experienced, and two of them discussed how others might blur sexual boundaries on the Internet. For example, one of them said, “On the Internet I can explore fetishes that I would never participate in other than on the Internet. I can become part of a sexual community that I would not be part of in real life. I get in some of the chat rooms, and I can let myself say things to other people I would not say if I were really with them.” Another speculates, “I know supposedly straight men who watch gay porn because they are fascinated…I think with the masculinity aspect…you know, two hot guys getting it on. They would never admit that to their friends.” The participant who was in gay adult films says, “I have been approached by straight women who have seen me in films…I am like, okay…one said to me, ‘Honey, I am a gay man in a straight woman’s body!’…I guess she meant that she wanted to get it on with lots of guys.” He elaborated on how this seemed odd—to have straight women watching him perform same-sex sex acts. He also said, “In some way, knowing that I was turning a woman on turned me on.” His experience provokes questions about sexuality that disrupt the usual way of conceptualizing sexual identities. Identifying as a heterosexual woman using the Internet to view male/male pornography and naming herself as a gay man in the body of a heterosexual woman takes us into new territory with regard to theorizing identity. Is she straight? Is she gay? Queer? Can we name such an identity? Is she serious or is she being playful with who she really is? And what of him being turned on by knowing that she was watching him perform sexually with another man? What we argue here is that the Internet has opened up spaces for people to engage in sexualities and sexual identities that elude definition.
In some cases, it seems that the rules of being gay can be bent on the Internet. For example, one of the participants says, “I have to admit that I watch straight porn on occasion…and I love it! I get turned on by seeing the pleasure of the woman being pounded by her man.” Another participant says, “…sometimes on the Internet [when I am watching porn] I can forget I am gay and just go with what turns me on.” A third participant says,
I can slip into being someone else when I am watching sadomasochist sites I like. By day, I am a “normal” gay man and by night, on the Internet, I can become a hard-core dominant master, which I would never do for real.
This comment illustrates the experience of being sexual beyond the boundaries to which one usually adheres and is what we term here “Nettersexualities,” expressing that the Internet creates possibilities for plural and fluid sexual identities between and beyond what has been and continues to be constructed as sexual identities, e.g., “straight,” “gay,” “lesbian,” “bisexual,” etc. Another aspect of bending the rules on the Internet includes participation in sexual experiences virtually or vicariously vis-à-vis viewing pornography. For example, as noted above, one of the participants said, “I visit bondage sites and I enjoy that even though I do not do that in real life.” Another said, “I occasionally enjoy watching water sports videos [sexual activity involving urine], but I have never done that and can’t imagine that I ever will.” The ability to imagine experiencing sexuality in ways that are beyond actual experiences is one of the most unique aspects of nettersexuality. We postulate that anyone can identify with multiple sexualities if only during the time spent online. It is important to recognize that we are not attempting to debate the ethics of being nettersexual, though there are obvious ethical and moral considerations, such as how this experience impacts others and how such experiences shape the view of the self—potentially impacting self-esteem (Bauman 2003). We are raising questions about the formation of sexual identity and sexuality as impacted by the Internet, particularly experiences with Internet pornography.
Discussion
Particularly for males who identify as gay, the Internet has become perhaps the safest place where one can be exposed to, educated about, and explore sexual practices and sexual identities. Historically, males who were exploring same-sex sexual desires were left to experiment with each other, which often led to significant anxiety and internalized shame or they sought out male-male same-sex porn magazines in seedy adult bookstores (Poole 2009; Helms 2003). As pornographic videos hit the market in the late 1970s, one could view same-sex sex acts if one was able to gain access to the product and to a machine on which to play the tape. Accessing gay porn was always a challenge until the Internet created a space where pornographic materials could be viewed freely and anonymously—spyware aside. Now, simply searching for a few key words on Google will give you access to just about every sexual scenario you can imagine and many that you have never imagined. As mentioned above, Illing (2018), referring to data from Google searches, points out that people who may identify as more traditionally heterosexual are, apparently, watching same-sex pornography on the Internet in fairly large numbers. Does this mean they are concealing a “true” identity? Or, perhaps, their identities are much more fluid than they publicly admit. Additionally, there seems to be intense pressure to conform to norms despite Internet searches that indicate people are engaged in a wide variety of sexual fantasies—if Internet searches can be correlated to sexual fantasy. Much more inquiry is needed in this area of Internet fantasization and sexual identities. Obviously, the content of what one is consuming via Internet male-male same-sex sexual practices is fraught with heteronormatively informed constructions of how men can be sexual with each other (Fejes 2011). Some argue that gay sex on the Internet promotes violence and aggression and affects self-esteem among gay men. Others counter that argument, pointing out that gay men use Internet porn mainly as an aid for sexual stimulation (Morrison et al. 2007; Kendall 2004, 2006). Here, the participants did not comment on the effects of pornography on their self-esteem nor did they focus on their use of pornography as simply a way to get off; rather, they discussed how their engagement with Internet pornography affected their identities, even if briefly. Their imaginations and their abilities to fantasize were titillated by what they watched. Accessing what is not accessible through experience with others intrigues them. They can be sexual in ways that reach beyond what they have actually known albeit virtually. What is important here is that they do not call themselves anything other than gay (one identifies as queer); yet, they talk about their abilities to learn about and transcend the boundaries of gayness through the Internet. The fact that they are fluid with their sexualities begins to provoke the notion that sexuality is a fairly static identity, particularly given what we know about people’s experiences on the Internet (Ross 2005).
There are many limitations in this study including the sample size and the fact that the three participants were all selected by convenience. In fact, the results here should be read as exploring a few viewpoints rather than a representing a robust qualitative research project. There is no comparison group, and there has been no follow-up. Diversity aspects are not accounted for because the three participants were all Caucasian and all college students. The data analysis does not include inter-rater reliability beyond the authors’ review of the data. Yet, the project is provocative. Both authors, within the practice of reflexive analysis, recognize that they too, as gay/queer men, experience unique aspects of their own sexualities via Internet pornography and that who they are sexually is impacted by what they see online. The participants echoed many of the authors’ own thoughts and feelings and the interviews took on much more of a discursive aspect as experiences and topics of discussion moved freely from one area to another. The participants all commented about how the process was intimidating and liberating simultaneously. They observed that they did not discuss sexual topics very often with friends or family and that when they did, they did not broach the topic of how pornography affected their lives. If pornography was discussed, they indicated that it was within a playful or “picking” manner, e.g., some joke about a particular web site. The participant who was an actor/model in the porn industry indicated that, among his film colleagues, there was no discussion about how the film may or may not personally impact the performers or the viewers. The participants all thanked the authors for inviting them to talk deeply about this topic and each one agreed that it was important to understanding more about gay identity. Interestingly, none of them was particularly interested in adopting the nettersexual identity, and in reality, the authors are not arguing that it is really an identity at all. Perhaps nettersexuality is a way of describing experiences that are unique to the online world. What we contend is that the Internet affects our sexualities and our sexual identities and that it is important to consider what that means for us personally and what it means with regard to theorizing identity. Opening possibilities and opportunities for imagination seems to be a worthwhile project, and it is our hope that we all can continue to stretch beyond the boundaries in which we live. Perhaps it is through the Internet, including the cornucopia of pornography found there, that we will propel ourselves into imagining and experiencing what we do not yet know is possible.