The Prostitution Reform Act (2003) and Social Work in Aotearoa/New Zealand

Abstract

Social work practice with sex workers in New Zealand occurs within a context of decriminalization since the passing of the Prostitution Reform Act (PRA) in 2003. This article presents the findings of a qualitative study focused on social workers’ perceptions of sex work/ers, the PRA, and its influence on practice with individuals in the sex industry. The findings suggest that social workers hold nuanced perspectives on sex work. While decriminalization creates opportunities that support social work practice with sex workers, challenges to antioppressive, critical social work remain, even within the context of decriminalization.

Keywords

decriminalization qualitative sex work social work practice stigma

Social workers all over the world engage with people in the sex industry in various capacities and contexts. How social workers engage with people in the sex industry is informed in part by policies and laws regulating sex work in that region. Many countries, including the United States with the exception of Nevada, have laws that make any type of engagement in sex work illegal, making sex workers less likely to discuss their sex work status with social workers. Some countries have legalized sex work (e.g., the Netherlands and Germany), other countries such as Sweden, Norway, and Canada engage a neo-abolitionist approach where sex workers cannot be charged with soliciting or offering sexual services for payment however clients can be charged. Still, other countries such as New Zealand and Mexico have decriminalized sex work. In New Zealand, as in many Western countries, policies of deregulation have restructured governance processes. Under neoliberalism, notions of individual liberty and responsibility have replaced “protective regulations and social supports” (Brents & Sanders, 2010, p. 46). It is perhaps noteworthy that in the last decade, most neoliberal countries have changed legislative frameworks around the sex industry in punitive dimensions, whereas New Zealand was one of the few countries to bring in more liberalized policy (Abel, 2001).

While the focus of this article is on the impact of New Zealand’s decriminalization of sex work (with sex work defined as the exchange of sex or sexual stimulation for material gains) on social work practice with people engaged in sex work, we also use the terms sex industry and sex trade(s) because not all people who sell sexual services identify as sex workers. To understand the impact of regulation on sex workers’ lives, it is important to appreciate the difference between decriminalization and legalization as some conflate the two. Legalization permits sex work in certain forms and it is usually heavily regulated through the licensing of sex workers and sex work establishments within zoned areas (Jordan, 2005; Perkins & Lovejoy, 2007; Sullivan, 1999, 2010). Municipalities have complete control over the granting or refusing of licenses and thus the number of legal brothels and sex workers is usually greatly limited (Jordan, 2005; Lewis & Maticka-Tyndale, 2000). Decriminalization encompasses the complete removal of the laws governing sex work and sex work–related offenses. The sex industry then becomes subject to the same controls and regulations as those under which other businesses operate (Jordan, 2005). Decriminalization aims to promote social inclusion by recognizing sex workers’ human rights and addressing their working conditions which, under a criminalized system, make them vulnerable to exploitation (West, 2000).

Background

Policy context

There have been sex workers in New Zealand since the late 1700s when explorers and traders first visited these shores (Jordan, 2010). The sex industry was largely tolerated until the 1970s when concerns about drug use and crime prompted restrictive legislation to enable police to enter massage parlors undercover and arrest sex workers on charges of solicitation. Most sex work activities were criminalized under various existing Acts of Parliament although in theory it was not illegal to be a sex worker. Following the formation of a sex workers’ rights group, New Zealand Prostitutes’ Collective (NZPC), in 1987, there was a concerted effort to get decriminalization on the government agenda. This process has been well documented elsewhere (Abel, Fitzgerald, Healy, & Taylor, 2010). In 2003, decriminalization became a reality in New Zealand when the Prostitution Reform Act (PRA) was passed by a narrow margin of one vote in Parliament. All the previous laws that criminalized sex work activities, such as soliciting, living on the earnings of sex work, owning, or operating a brothel and procurement, were dissolved and sex workers in New Zealand became subject to similar laws applicable to any other occupational group.

The context within which decriminalization gained footing in New Zealand was one of neoliberalism, with emphasis on the right of women to choose to work as sex workers. Policy makers also drew on knowledge networks heavily influenced by the public health discourse of harm minimization (Harrington, 2012). NZPC had for many years worked with public health researchers, who took a participatory approach to researching the health and safety of sex workers in a criminalized environment (Abel, Fitzgerald, & Brunton, 2007). This research ensured that sex worker voices were present in the debate regarding legislative change (Harrington, 2012).

The PRA was reviewed 5 years after adoption. The review committee was set up under the Ministry of Justice and membership included people with diverse perspectives on sex work (Fitzharris & Taylor, 2010). They were intent not to be swayed by moralistic or political debates on sex work but to concentrate on the issues that were specifically addressed in the PRA including human rights, occupational health and safety, and underage sex work. The review report concluded that sex workers are better off following decriminalization than they were prior to 2003 (Prostitution Law Review Committee, 2008). New Zealand citizens that trade sex are able to negotiate safer sex more effectively; they have a better relationship with police; and they are able to utilize their newly acquired employment and legal rights (Abel et al., 2010; Mossman & Mayhew, 2007).

While sex workers who are citizens in New Zealand are working within a policy framework where they have rights, they are still negotiating their lives within a cultural context imbued with social ambivalence and strong moral discourses toward the sex industry and its workers (Abel et al., 2010). Sullivan’s (2010) research on the effects of decriminalization in New South Wales, Australia, found that even in a decriminalized context, sex workers may struggle to gain the identity as a “worker” outside of these dominant discourses.

Theoretical context

“Worker” is not a term frequently used by social workers—particularly in North America and Western Europe—to describe people engaged in sex trades. In fact, more and more social work scholarship seems to equate sex work with sex trafficking and/or violence—two very different phenomena (Ja Sook Bergquist, 2015). While in many countries sex work/prostitution has become synonymous with sex trafficking Kempadoo (2005), the prevalence of a liberal feminist stance has kept this discourse at bay in New Zealand. Those who equate sex work with sex trafficking consider it as inherently oppressive and exploitative negating any notion or possibility of choice or agency. Ultimately, social workers remain conflicted, even divided, about how to think about sex work and the people (specifically women) involved, particularly when confronted with the complex realities of some sex workers’ lives. A researcher in Denmark states:
I argue that social workers are affected by the polarized and radicalized discourse and that the powerful image of prostitutes as individual victims makes it difficult for social workers and addiction counselors to access their clients’ narratives and feelings about prostitution. (Bjønness, 2012, p. 298)
Thinking about the experiences of people who trade sexual services within a binary where sex work is perceived as empowering and a choice for some people (most clearly articulated by sex radicals and sex worker rights advocates) and conversely as exploitive, coercive, and dangerous (most clearly articulated by radical feminists and abolitionists) for others remains common (Dennis, 2008; Weitzer, 2014). As Benoit and Shaver (2006, p. 249) argue, such binaries are flawed, failing “to reflect the complex heterogeneity of PWSI [people working in the sex industry] at any point in time and across place” (our italics). Consequently, when faced with narratives that include experiences of empowerment, self-efficacy, agency, and violence, oppression, or injustice, social workers are frequently ill-prepared to navigate sex workers’ complicated narratives and lives with them (Bjønness, 2012).

Because of feminisms’ long-standing centrality in social work practice, and because feminists of all stripes (liberal, Marxist, radical, black-feminist thought, sex radical) have weighed in on issues of sex work and prostitution (for extended discussions of the feminist debates, see L. Bell, 1987; S. Bell, 1994; Bernstein, 2010; Nagel, 1997; Sloan & Wahab, 2000; Sutherland, 2004; Zatz, 1997), we situate our theorizing about sex work alongside sex radicalism that is “multidirectional” (Cossman, 1997 and cited in Sutherland, 2004) and heeds Sutherland’s (2004) caution to “attend to the complexity of political and economic forces at work at the sites of their interventions, lest they invite neo-liberal co-optation” (p. 166). While a nuanced discussion of the diverse feminist debates around sex work and sex radicalism specifically goes beyond the scope of this article, we note some of the basic tenants of sex radicalism (below) that shaped our orientation toward sex work for this research.

Sex radicalism perhaps most notably articulated by Califia (1994), Rubin (1984), and S. Bell (1994) embrace sexual nonconformism and diversity, recognizing that there is no universal experience associated with any kind of sexual activity. Consequently, sex work can be a site of exploitation and agency simultaneously. Acknowledging that sex and work are deeply intertwined within sex work, sex radicals argue that sex work should be regulated like any other form of labor and acknowledge the stigma associated with the sexual aspect as the problem (Sutherland, 2004), rather than the sexual activity. Sex radicals also tend to resist state regulation of sex work.

Demographic context

Although it is difficult to provide an exact number of sex workers in New Zealand, a police estimate at the time of the passing of the PRA suggested that there were just under 6,000 sex workers (Prostitution Law Review Committee, 2005). Police do acknowledge, however, that this is likely an overestimation, as the registers that they kept prior to decriminalization were cumulative and the names of people who exited sex work were not removed. An estimation conducted shortly after the implementation of the PRA in the three main cities in which sex work in New Zealand takes place, as well as two smaller towns, revealed a total of 2,333 sex workers (Abel, Fitzgerald, & Brunton, 2009).

Around half of the sex workers work in brothels, a quarter work privately and 11% are street based (Prostitution Law Review Committee, 2005). The remainder work in escort agencies, bars, ships, or other venues. The majority of sex workers are female (86%) and aged between 22 years and 45 years of age (Abel et al., 2010). While Māori (the indigenous population in New Zealand) constitute 14.9% of the total New Zealand population, they are overrepresented in the sex industry, constituting just under a third of sex workers (Abel et al., 2010).

Many brothel and private sex workers report working in other occupations as well as in sex work and many are also studying and supporting themselves financially at the same time through their sex work. In a large study of 772 sex workers in New Zealand, only 26% of brothel workers and 31% of private workers reported having no other work, while 51% of street-based sex workers reported this (Abel et al., 2010). Most sex workers in New Zealand report that they have 3–5 years of secondary school education or tertiary education, although street-based sex workers do report lower levels of education than those who work in brothels or privately. What is important for this study, given the involvement of social workers with sex workers who have children, is that just under half of sex workers (47%) in New Zealand have at least one child (Abel et al., 2010).

Method

Purpose

While prostitution is no longer illegal for most people in New Zealand (the legislation excludes noncitizens), legislators, law enforcement, and social workers do not know if and how the PRA of 2003 has informed social work practice with people engaged in the sex trade. Consequently, this article reports on a study conducted in 2012–2013 with a small group of New Zealand social workers. Our specific aims were to (1) understand social workers’ general perceptions about sex work and those engaged in sex work in New Zealand and to (2) understand social workers’ perceptions of the influence of the PRA on their practice with people who trade sex. The methodology for this inquiry was qualitative and informed by critical paradigms. We assume that research is value laden and that data collected in the form of in-depth interviews are coconstructed between the researcher and the participants (Green & Thorogood, 2014).

Because the PRA is the legislation that decriminalized sex work, we engage the PRA as a legal reform and our interview questions focus on participants’ thoughts and perceptions specifically about the PRA (rather than decriminalization more generally). With decades of sex work research between us, we generally regard decriminalization as a common good that tends to improve the working conditions of some people but not all, nor does decriminalization attend to many of the issues that regularly and negatively impact sex workers’ lives.

Study Participants and Recruitment

Fifteen adult (ages 23–69) social workers with practice experience working with people who trade sex in Dunedin, Christchurch, and Auckland were recruited to participate in the study. It is understood that data saturation usually occurs within 12–15 interviews if the participants are fairly homogenous (Guest, Bunce, & Johnson, 2006), as in the case of this particular sample. Purposive sampling was used to include study participants who were information-rich, that is, they had information needed to address the research questions (Green & Thorogood, 2014). Our recruitment flyer specifically stated that eligible participants needed to have worked with someone, in a social work capacity, in the past year that traded sexual services for materials goods. To be eligible for participation, individuals had to identify as a social worker while holding a social work diploma or registration and/or work within the field of social work. An additional criterion included the need to have had some social work practice experience working with people engaged in the sex industry (adults or youths). The participants all received US$40 gift vouchers in recognition of their time commitment to the study. Ethics Committee approval for this research was granted by the University of Otago in 2012.

At the time of the interviews, 11 participants were registered with the New Zealand Social Work Registration Board, with a range of 1–8 years of registration and 4–25 years of social work practice experience. Social work registration in New Zealand has only been available for 11 years. We chose to pay attention to registration status because there is some belief among New Zealand social workers that registration may be a requirement in the future. Four of the 15 social workers were not registered and claimed 13 months to 30 years of social work practice experience. Fourteen of the social workers identified as female and one as male. The great majority of social workers identified as “New Zealand European” or Pākehā (n = 12), one as Māori, one as Melanesian, and one as Pacific Islander. Social workers in this study represented a range of social work settings including Child Youth and Family (CYF), hospital, substance abuse treatment, faith based, school, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), mental health, and community-based agencies. Types of social work practice represented in this study include individual and group counseling, advocacy, case management, crisis support, education, supervision, and some administration. While study participants’ experiences with people in the sex industry reported in this study largely revolved around women, some also reported engagement with transgender individuals.

Data Collection and Analysis

Individual, in-person, semistructured interviews lasting between 1 hr and 2 hr explored social workers’ perceptions of sex work/ers as well as their perceptions of the PRA’s influence on social work practice. In-depth interviews can elicit rich information and enable an exploration of insiders’ perspectives (Liamputtong, 2009). Semistructured interviews were chosen to facilitate knowledge construction through conversational practice. Participants were asked about their interactions with people engaged in sex work as well as their thoughts, feelings, and attitudes. They were also specifically asked questions about their thoughts, knowledge, and perceptions about the PRA rather than decriminalization in general because the passing of the legislation was highly politicized (and has been documented elsewhere; Abel et al., 2010) and regarded as a significant national event. Using Kvale and Brinkmann’s (2009) metaphor of the traveler, we positioned ourselves as travelers engaged in a journey with the study participants. Each participant was interviewed once and interviews were audio recorded with participant consent then transcribed by a professional transcriber. Study participants were given the opportunity to receive a copy of their transcripts and the final report.

The data were analyzed by the two researchers, with one of us taking the lead on the initial coding process, using an inductive and constructivist (Braun & Clarke, 2006) approach to thematic analysis. We followed Braun and Clarke’s (2006) six steps to analysis by familiarizing ourselves with the data, coding, searching for themes, reviewing themes, defining and naming themes, and then developing an analytic narrative including data extracts. In this final phase of analysis, we contextualized the analysis in relation to the existing literature.

As poststructural feminist scholars aligned with sex radical theorizing around sex work, we recognize the constitutive power of discourse. Our study design and methods intentionally tuned into multiple and diffuse conceptions of power (individual and structural), narratives of stigma, labor, intersections of gender, race, class, and sexual behavior.

Findings

Social workers’ perception of sex work and people engaged in sex work

Study participants shared complex and nuanced narratives about sex work challenging the notion that a universal or binary social work perspective on sex work exists. The construction of sex work as work served as a unifying theme across all participants’ narratives and still left room for diverse discourses. Social workers used language such as “job,” “profession,” “career,” and “labor” when referring to sex work, and they compared sex work to other types of occupations including social work. Social workers also spoke about sex work as necessary and common, unhealthy and soul killing, sad, and damaging to intimate relationships. A few social workers made it a point to state that “sex work itself is not the problem the lifestyle is”—bringing attention to contextual issues. Perhaps lacking in an intersectional analysis of sex work, however, registered social workers in particular, systematically referenced cisgender women in their interviews, even when prompted to consider cisgender male or transgender sex workers.

Sex work as necessary and common

Many social workers spoke about sex work as necessary for some individuals and for society as a whole echoing Marxist feminists’ claims that the condition of the prostitute is only a specific expression of the general prostitution of the laborer as a result of capitalism (Marx, 1975; Overall, 1992). While some viewed sex work as necessary because of the consumer demand, others viewed it as a necessary mechanism for supporting a drug habit or simply for earning a living. “I think their addictions sort of maintained their place in the industry” (#13), consistent with liberal feminist claims that people engage in prostitution for economic reasons first and foremost (Thompson, 2000). Recognizing that some people engage in sex work as a result of limited employment alternatives, social workers acknowledge agency in the choice to sell sexual services rather than sell drugs or take out loans only to accumulate debt.

Sex work is unhealthy and soul killing

Some social workers spoke of sex work as “unhealthy” due to assumptions that “drugs,” “parties, chaotic lifestyles,” “violence,” and “sadness” accompany sex work: “And the hours they keep, and just their life in general, so, you know, at times quite an unhealthy existence for them” (#12). A case manager and drug and alcohol counselor suggested that sex work is “soul killing.”
I think it takes a little bit of their soul every time they have sex with a stranger, and to desensitize from personal experience, I think, in time or in their future will play a lot on their psychological well-being. (#3)

It’s a complete exploitation of the females and their bodies, and I just believe that it’s completely the most awful type of profession for the female who needed to do in order to survive … Completely soul destroying. (#13)
Despite recognizing sex work as work, social workers’ narratives were still infused with radical feminist discourses of exploitation and victimization.

Sex workers are “so sad/victims”

Viewing sex workers as victims led to expressions of pity and sadness toward people engaged in sexual labor. Some study participants viewed sex workers as “victims of violence,” “their upbringings,” “poverty,” “drug addiction,” “sexism,” and “childhood abuse.” Two drug and alcohol counselors stated, “I see them more as victims” (#12) and “they hate themselves for doing it” (#13). It is noteworthy that social workers engaged in street outreach and community-based agencies however rarely deployed radical feminist discourses of victimization and exploitation representing a marked difference from the discourse offered by the clinical social workers in the study. For example, this (nonregistered) outreach worker acknowledges societal stigma rather than lack of services as a significant problem for sex workers:
I talk with groups of medical students, counselling students, at the start of their training, have done for years, and I often say like the most important issue for a lot of sex workers is disclosure, and sex workers are very good at reading body language, understanding body signals, and if they feel as though they’re being treated differently or judged for what they do, they’re likely to close off. (#14)
Another community-based worker offers a perspective that moves beyond a single story of sex workers by acknowledging that not all people involved in sex work struggle with addiction:
just because somebody’s prostituting doesn’t mean to say they are all taking drugs and they’re all out burglarizing and, you know. (#2)

Damaging to intimate relationships

Some social workers expressed concerns about sex workers’ personal/intimate relationships, specifically the concern that sex work leads to “unhealthy” intimate relationships. A clinical social worker shared that sex work degrades intimacy believing that sex should occur within loving relationships.
Because my dad was really quite romantic and adored my mum, and in fact he set me up to make me think that sex could be fantastic, and the first time I remember thinking, “Oh God, is that it? It’s not, my dad’s lied to me.” Because he said it should be, it should be wonderful. (#1)
This particular social worker’s thoughts and feelings about sex work, intimacy, and love are particularly interesting, given that she also discussed sex work as work, adding further evidence that viewing sex work as labor leaves plenty of room for competing discourses including those steeped in morality about sex. Many of the social workers in this study struggled with how to make sense of the ways intimacy, emotion, and labor are negotiated within a sex work context.

Social workers’ perceptions of the PRA

General social work reactions to the PRA ranged from the “best thing since sliced bread” to indifference, though most believed that the PRA was overwhelmingly positive in its outcomes. Some social workers felt that it “didn’t go far enough,” and most felt that the PRA did very little to change societal stigma associated with sex work.

Legal rights

Despite being largely unfamiliar with the specifics of the PRA, social workers were aware that sex workers have the same rights to protection against violence and harassment, as other citizens, though no social workers, spoke of the fact that the PRA does not apply to nonresidents. Some of the more common rights social workers associated with the legislation include the right to refuse particular sexual acts and the right to hold clients accountable for wearing condoms. More than one participant referred to a recent case where a sex worker took a client to court for deliberately removing a condom. The man was charged US$400 (Abel et al., 2010).

A social worker who has both worked as a sex worker and advocate for sex workers believed that sex workers are currently much more informed about their rights than they were prior to the passing of the PRA.
I worked in the sex industry when it was illegal, and the sex workers I work with now, I always call them the new generation. They have a lot more rights than what I ever did when I was, you know, working in the system then. You had to bullshit. You couldn’t even talk freely about, you know, negotiating your business, because every person that came to the door, you were always stressing, “Is that a police officer? Am I going to go, get picked up for soliciting?” And when I talk the stories about all this, what used to happen to, you know, us whores back in the day to the new generation, like they just look at me can’t even believe it. (#8)

More likely to report violence

While prior to decriminalization sex workers feared arrest and punishment for admitting to engagement in sex work if they complained about violence, harassment, or discrimination (Plumridge & Abel, 2000), currently, sex work, while still stigmatized, is mostly not accompanied with a fear of prosecution allowing for safer spaces to report abuse. Some of the social workers believed that sex workers are more likely to report violence to the police now that they are not afraid of arrest:
And they’re more likely to report violence to the police. We certainly see that in Christchurch, and for those who still feel uncomfortable turning to the police for help, they can request the support and advocacy of the NZPC to bring forth their concerns and reports on their behalf. (#14)
Given that sex workers around the world report police as one of their greatest threats to well-being and safety (Shannon & Montaner, 2012), additional research into the impact of decriminalization on police conduct with people engaged in sex work seems necessary. Efforts by the NZPC to educate and forge better relationships with the police are regarded by some sex work advocates as essential to supporting the rights of sex workers.

Stigma

Another perceived benefit of the PRA, as seen by some, is a slight decrease in stigma, largely due to the fact that activities related to sex work are no longer criminalized.
People don’t have to be hiding what they do, “I’m a prostitute, so what?” It’s not an illegal activity anymore, so people can do it, pay tax and they’re a contributing member of society just like everybody else, just like you and me. (#4)
There was also the belief that decriminalization through the PRA makes sex work “seem less seedy and secretive” (#3). Despite the perception of attenuated stigma, social workers unanimously believed that stigma associated with sex work is still rampant, even after the PRA. One social worker noted that although legal, sex work is not something you would want to advertise in your child’s school:
Yeah, I don’t think it’s a career you advertise. You wouldn’t, I don’t believe you would go to school if you have your child in there and they want to know what do you do for a job, I really don’t think we’re at that level where the mums are going to go, “Yes, I’m a sex worker.” (#3)
or in the local paper:
So I guess it makes it easier, but at the same time there’s still stigma to being a prostitute, so I don’t think it’s typically something that people put in the paper or, you know, “Hello, my name’s Chris, I’m a prostitute.” (#4)
A study participant referred to the stigma associated with sex work as a type of “moral panic” (#8) where, despite public policy, people’s views about sex work are deeply informed by morality.

Discussions associated with stigma were particularly dynamic when the focus turned to mothers in the sex industry. The extensive focus on mothers in participants’ responses came as a surprise as we did not include interview questions focused on mothers. Social workers were divided about if/how the PRA tamed social work bias and consequently practice toward sex working mothers. Social workers’ attitudes toward sex workers fluctuated depending on their perceptions of her mother status with the assumption that if she was trading sex, she couldn’t be a good parent.
And working from home would always be an option, but then that brings in the whole if you’re working from home and you’ve got children, that would start setting my alarm bells ringing if people are coming home at 2 o’clock in the morning and they’re drunk and, you know, and you’ve got your kid tucked up in the next day. (#4)

Yeah, there’s an assumption, “She can’t be parenting well if she’s a, if she’s doing this work and her children are there.” (#5)
It appears as though social workers were less judgmental and stigmatizing toward women who either did not have children or were not actively living with their children. For example, a CYF social worker stated, “I’ve never had a problem with what other people do as long as it doesn’t have an effect on their children” (#4), the assumption being that sex work has a negative effect on her children. The same CYF social worker however also admits that while “sex work is not the problem,” the stigma associated with the term “prostitute” causes him to probe into her life a bit more than he would if she was “a librarian:”
… the fact that she’s a prostitute is neither here nor there. I guess, I guess it informs me to say, “Okay, she’s a prostitute. Has she got those other things going as well?” Whereas if somebody said, “Oh, this mum’s a librarian,” I wouldn’t automatically judge to, “Okay, is she, is she using drugs? Is she, you know, associating with very, very heavy or dangerous men?” So I guess there is that bias built-in even now, but it’s not on automatic. It just leads to further questions being asked. (#4)
This social worker speaks to the link between beliefs and practice, as he admits that his beliefs and biases about sex working moms lead him to probe and perhaps surveil (our term) aspects of sex workers’ lives that would otherwise remain unquestioned were she engaged in a different form of labor.

Possibly a bit safer

Since the passing of the PRA, there is a belief among social workers that sex work is now “safer” largely because there are more opportunities to work indoors (i.e., brothels) than prior to the passing of the PRA. Whether this belief resonates with sex workers’ experiences or not, there was a common assumption that brothel work is safer than street work. A nonregistered social worker in an NGO believed that police harassment of sex workers decreased as a result of the PRA.
I’m so glad, as it took the fear out of them, the fear of exposure. The fact that often they were sort of held to ransom by police about, “We will expose you, we will, you know, if you don’t give us information.” So they felt incredibly vulnerable, and I thought, so not vulnerable, but scared … the police would tell people, tell welfare and have their children taken off them, this sort of stuff. So she said that was great, that was a relief. (#5)
Despite perceptions that sex work was perhaps a bit safer post PRA, a participant stated that unethical practices in brothels still exist.
Having said that, we still hear a few bad stories about people being fined and it comes up here and there. That was very dear to our heart with the change of the law because prior to that, I mean there were terrible practices that would never be accepted in any other workplace. Like, you know, “You were 10 minutes late yesterday, $100 fine,” you know, and so that all had to stop. (#14)
Research specifically focused on violence and safety of sex workers post-PRA merits additional attention.

PRA influence on social work practice: CYF workers

Social workers in this study were divided on the type of influence, if any, the PRA has had on actual social work practices. Those who believe there has been some influence stated that the PRA forces social workers to accept sex work as legitimate/legal work regardless of their opinions about it.
I suspect that, that even if social workers, whose belief around prostitution, like because of the reform act, you’d almost be forced to take that kind of view that actually, okay, you might not agree with it, clearly, you know, it might not be what you would choose to do as a career, but it’s legal now. (#9)
The practice of removing children from mothers engaged in sex work (because of their involvement in the sex industry) raises sensitive and complicated social work practice issues associated with moral, raced, and classed notions of “good” mothering. Some of the social workers believed that the PRA renders social workers accountable to the legislation, so that bias against sex work/ers (e.g., the belief that sex work is immoral, sinful, or “bad”) is no longer sufficient cause for removing a child from a mother’s care.
The days 15, 20 years ago of a judge just sort of rubber-stamping any application we (social workers) put in front of the court has changed markedly in Dunedin over the last 5 years. We’ve actually, we’ve got to be very robust and rigorous and we can’t just say, “Oh, you know, mum’s a prostitute and the kids aren’t doing well because of that.” You know, the worker has to actually put other stuff there. (#4)

I have seen people’s children being taken away because they were working, but I’ve also seen that since PRA that that hasn’t been the issue. The issue is usually if somebody is leaving their child alone while they work, which hardly ever happens. (#14)
These social workers attribute a shift (away from removing children from sex workers because of their work) to the PRA and argue that social workers’ biases against sex work and sex working mothers cannot be used as rationale to remove children. Others (nonregistered social workers who worked for community-based agencies) challenged this notion by stating that social workers can still use their biases (against sex workers) to target mothers by finding “other” reasons (i.e., drugs and alcohol and parenting) to get involved in their lives.
Like while CYFS can’t take a woman’s kids away just because she’s a sex worker, they can find other ways, to make things difficult for her. (#8)

What happens is, it’s really interesting-what happens is … it’s not upfront that it’s about their work. It’s about concern for the children, and so what they do is they attach a number of monitoring things to that young woman. (#5)
The nonregistered social workers also noted that social worker biases against sex work also intersect with racism and classism noting that sex workers with perceived Pākehā (New Zealand European) and class privilege may be more protected from the social work gaze and surveillance:
Even though it’s a certain group in society (doing sex work), because it wouldn’t be you and me if we put our child in front of the television while we’re cooking tea … it would be someone that’s a lot more vulnerable. (#5)
The question “what constitutes the social work gaze” (in New Zealand or any other country) is a controversial and interesting one and extends beyond the scope of this article. We use the concept “social work gaze” in this article to bring attention to a relationship between individual social workers and institutions (in this case, state run organizations like CYF, social work training institutions, and registration boards).

The PRA attenuated some of the need for secrecy around sex work, allowing sex workers, service providers, and advocates to speak more freely about the realities and necessities associated with sex work (budgeting, sexual and physical health, occupational hazards, safety planning, and social support). A social worker stated that the PRA has made it much easier for social workers to talk about sex work freely and directly with sex workers of all ages.
… feels like it takes the fear out of the first “disclosure”—Made it much easier to talk to youth about their needs and some of the things going on in their lives. (#15)
While this particular influence on practice may seem miniscule to some, study participants felt strongly that the ability to actually engage sex workers (of all ages, particularly youths) directly about sex work issues facilitated opportunities for further engagement, focused support, and planning (financial, safety, child welfare, and health).

Discussion

In this study, social workers’ thoughts, feelings, and perceptions about sex work and people engaged in sex work reflect a range of feminist discourses (Marxist, liberal, radical, sex radical) on the topic while simultaneously and unanimously articulating the aspect of sex radicalism concerned with the work in sex work. Chapkis (1997) writes,
[f]rom the perspective of prostitutes’ rights advocates … what makes prostitution abusive in some but not all instances is a question of the conditions under which the work takes place (the relations of production) rather than the terms under which the sex takes place (for money, love, or pleasure). (p. 131)
We suggest that the passing of the PRA has shaped individual social workers’ language such that the exchange of sex for materials gains is conceptualized as a type of labor. Thinking about sex work as labor however does not exclude narratives of exploitation, victimization, or stigma that hurt and marginalize people in the sex industry, particularly mothers. While some social workers may work toward policy reform with the aim of decriminalization in various countries, social workers should also note that decriminalization and the discourse of labor that may accompany it alone is unlikely to eradicate stigma nor transform the construction of sex workers as victims that often lead to dangerous interventions.

Because social workers disproportionately come into contact with individuals in the sex industry who are struggling with some aspect of their lives, it is important to keep in mind that social workers typically have limited engagement with middle–upper class, educated, sober sex workers who also have access to resources and multiple forms of privilege. Consequently, the social work glimpse into the lives of people engaged in sex work tends to be partial and limited, always.

Registered and nonregistered social workers’ perceptions about sex work/ers seemed significantly informed by the types of social work they practiced (mental health, drug and alcohol, CYF, street-based outreach, etc.). For example, if a social worker practiced in a drug and alcohol treatment center, their narratives tended to reflect drug and alcohol issues and concerns. Similarly, CYF workers tended to focus on child welfare and child protective issues at the expense of other issues (health, financial, human rights). On the other hand, street outreach workers and those working in community-based agencies (also comprised all of the nonregistered social workers) reflected more generalist concerns in addition to policy and macroissues (typically ignored by the registered social workers). These social workers tended to think less about sex work as a stand-alone issue and more about the contextual social, political, and economic issues surrounding sex work. These participants expressed nuanced and strengths-based perceptions and attitudes about sex workers including attention to skills and abilities sex workers exercise to get their needs met (assertiveness, business savvy, self-protection, intelligence, knowledge of systems of care), the benefits of engaging in sex work, and the impact of oppression on poor, trans, and people of color engaged in sex work distinguishing their perceptions and attitudes from those of their registered and more clinically focused counter-partners.

Discussions about social work practice almost always turned to children and CYF regardless of which context the social worker practiced in. This may be partly due to the fact that most social work funding in New Zealand comes through CYF. Even social workers in health care or school settings can be funded by CYF. Future research on this topic may consider asking whether a particular social worker is funded by the state or privately as a means of further unpacking “the social work gaze” which may very well be a “state gaze.” With the exception of social work practice through CYF, by and large social workers did not believe the PRA influenced social work practice extensively. And when the focus turned to social work practice at CYF, social workers were divided on the legislation’s impact on how they work with people in the industry. On the one hand, some social workers (working at CYF and family-based services) felt that the PRA stopped the systematic practice of targeting mothers (for monitoring, removal of their children, demands to attend parenting classes, etc.) specifically because the mothers engage in sex work. At the same time, others believed that the PRA did not prevent social workers from discriminating against mothers in the sex industry, arguing that social workers simply find “cover” reasons (drugs, parenting, child delinquency, and poverty) to enact surveillance practices that often lead to the removal of children.

Social workers in this study provide additional evidence that stigma associated with sex work, particularly for mothers, is alive and deeply entrenched, even within a context of decriminalization. Bjøness (2012) has argued that prostitution policy shifts in Denmark have had limited impact on public discourse and perceptions of people engaged in sex work—robbing them of their status as “citizens.” Similarly, Koyama (2011) argued that entrenched racism, classism, and sexism harm people in the sex industry regardless of sex work policies and regulation:

Treating sex work “just like any other work” is inadequate when “other work” is often performed under unsafe or exploitative conditions. Selling and buying of sex as commodities can be exploitative and degrading, as are selling and buying of labor, health, and safety in the neoliberal capitalist marketplace.

We are concerned about the impact of stigma and radical feminist discourses of victimization have on social work practice with people engaged in sex trades. Similarly to others who have reported on the stigma faced by mothers engaged in trading sex (Avgerinos, 2006; McClelland, 2004; Peled & Levin-Rotber, 2013; Peled & Parker, 2013; Sloss & Harper, 2004, Weiner, 1996), social workers in this research spoke to the fact that mothers engaged in sex work are more negatively and harshly judged and surveilled than women without children. They also validate claims made by other researchers (above references) that sex-working mothers fear engagement with social workers as they fear having their children removed from their care.

While other scholars have written about the social challenges and brutal stigma faced by mothers in the sex industry (Avgerinos, 2006; McClelland, 2004; Peled & Levin-Rotber, 2013; Peled & Parker, 2013; Sloss & Harper, 2004), this may be the first study to ask social workers if and how law reform influenced their actions with people who trade sex for materials gains. Women engaged in the sex trade have always reported that one of their greatest fears is to have their children removed by social workers (Peled & Levin-Rotberg, 2013; Sloss & Harper, 2004; Weiner, 1996) and the social workers’ narratives in this study confirm the legitimacy of these fears.

Implications for Social Work Practice

Given that multiple discourses shape social work engagement with people in the sex industry (Wahab, 2002), it seems particularly relevant to stress the importance of understanding the power of discourse on every day practices. As expressed by one of the study participants, more focus on what we know about sex work and how we know would support practitioners to confront and perhaps unlearn some of the beliefs and perceptions that facilitate “trespass” (Rossiter, 2007). Deena Mandell’s (2007) text begs helping professionals to question their own professional identities because “critical reflection on the use of self is the link that mediates theory and practice in social work practice” (p. x). The implication of focusing on the situated self (self in context of our environment and social locations) in practice to cultivate openness to the nuances and complexities in people’s lives requires a type of reflexive praxis that few social workers receive concerted training in. We believe that critical social work offers such opportunities for learning and unlearning with its emphasis on a self-reflexive and critical stance in the face of social policies and social work practice, as well as its focus on macroforces associated with race, class, gender, sexuality, and so on., on people’s individual lives, and its commitment to participatory rather than authoritative approaches (Fook, 2012; Healy, 2001). Critical social work demands that social workers attend to the influence of macroforces on their own (and those they serve) individual experiences, beliefs, and attitudes. This type of scrutiny and attention can help expose those beliefs and discourses that facilitate stigma and judgment about people who trade sex, including the dangerous notion that sex workers need to be protected from themselves and/or inherently need rescuing Wahab & Panichelli (2013). If more social workers were offered thoughtful and generative spaces to explore, question, trouble, and critically analyze (e.g., through an intersectional lens) what they know about people engaged in sex work and how they know it, perhaps social work in general would be better positioned, in the eyes of sex workers, to help when help is wanted. Social work also stands to benefit from greater engagement with sociological theorizing around sex work and sex trafficking (see Lerum & Brents, 2016).

The fact that Aotearoa/New Zealand is one of a few countries where sex work is decriminalized makes it an interesting case study for social workers living and working in countries where sex work is criminalized. The findings of this study and others (Abel et al., 2010; Prostitution Law Review Committee, 2008) suggest that living and working conditions for many (though not all) sex workers improved after the PRA. The changed social, legal, and political conditions also made it easier for social workers to engage people who trade sex more directly and openly about their involvement in the sex industry. Whether additional engagement with social workers is considered a universal or local benefit by sex workers merits critical research. The profile of the NZPC made more visible by the passing of the PRA also strengthened opportunities for social workers to connect with and receive support, information, and services through the NZPC relationships that can benefit people engage in sex work. That said, challenges to social work practice still exist, particularly when mothers are concerned, as discourses of stigma and victimization dominate social work spaces more than ever. Future research may consider the ways that stigma shape social work practice with people engaged in sex work, with special attention to mothers as well as poor, racialized, gender nonconforming, and immigrant people. Social workers connected to and supportive of sex worker rights movement around the world that frequently call for decriminalization may take note that while decriminalization may facilitate some aspects of social work practice with commercial sex workers, significant challenges may remain.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

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