Perceptions of provider power among sex buyers

Variations in consent underscore variations in power

Giddens sees all actions as involving power, in that they are goal directed and involve agency that ultimately shapes the ongoing reality of the actor. Even disempowered actors have some ability to shape their interactions and the outcomes that ensue from them. While our focus is on buyer power, the relative power of providers represents a critically important context in these social interactions.

Assumptions about power are implicit in contemporary dialogues about the degree to which prostitution is consensual. A sometimes used, if not well interrogated, argument for the legalization of prostitution argues that the state has no business meddling in the harmless, consensual sexual behavior of adults (Cooke, 2013; Posner, 1992). This argument quickly becomes problematic on many levels, since prostitution can involve individuals who are not yet adults, may involve persons with developmental disabilities, and sometimes also involves force or coercion (Kuosmanen and Starke, 2011; Monto, 2004; Raphael and Shapiro, 2004). In contrast to the position that sex work is voluntary and consensual, many organizations working to prevent the sexual exploitation and trafficking of women and children often imply that prostitution is never a choice (Oselin and Weitzer, 2013). This argument relies on an oversimplified conception of sex work that minimizes the experiences of sex workers who decide to sell sex amid other options and participate for a variety of different reasons. These differing orientations become less abstract when considering recent qualitative research on sex workers, which shows even severely disadvantaged sex workers to be active agents who make decisions about whether and how to practice (Ditmore, 2014; Hulusjö, 2013).

The choice to buy or sell sex (or more broadly any choice of action) can be less or more consensual, depending on what Giddens has described as “the constraining aspects of structural properties of social systems” (Giddens, 1984: xxvii). He identifies three types of constraint: (1) constraint deriving from limitations of the material (time, space) or physical body (appearance, age, strength, ability, physical needs); (2) constraints associated with threat of negative sanctions or punishments; and (3) constraints associated with the structural contexts in which actors operate (Giddens, 1984: 176). For our purposes, the latter two kinds of constraint are most useful. Sex workers who are “traded in exchange for debt, transported away from support networks, addicted to drugs, sexually abused as children, facing the threat of violence, and/or facing dire economic circumstances” cannot reasonably be seen as consenting, since the choices are made with such limited options (Monto, 2014: 78). We note that these constraints can reasonably apply to both male and female sex workers. And sex workers who are migrants, especially those lacking official documentation and legal status may be particularly vulnerable, operating amid the risk of deportation or displacement and having little recourse in responding to abuse and exploitation (Anderson, et al., 2015). On the other hand, the published accounts of sex workers include many examples of providers who chose sex work despite other employment opportunities (Lucas, 2005; O'Connell Davidson, 1995) and/or who see sex work as an important, desirable, or even “sacred” profession (DePaulo, 1997; Nagle, 1997). The “sugar baby–sugar daddy” phenomenon, in which young women, often college students with a range of options, choose to receive financial support from older men in exchange for intimate relationships often involving sexual interactions has also received a great deal of recent attention, though it is unclear how common the practice is (Miller, 2011; Motyl, 2013; Shrayber, 2015).

The equation is structurally different for buyers than for providers. Though often motivated by desires that seem to them quite powerful (Milrod and Weitzer, 2012), customers are not compelled to participate in prostitution by financial exigencies or forced by other individuals to seek out paid sexual encounters. Still, their power in paid sexual exchanges is shaped by various social constraints as well, including their physical proximity to prostitution markets, their ability to satisfy their sexual and emotional wants through other means, their sexual orientation, their citizenship status, and their socioeconomic status.

The structural contexts of sex buying

Issues that influence the degree to which prostitution is consensual affect the relative power of the buyer and provider. One of the fundamental challenges in conceptualizing power in paid sexual exchanges is that these ephemeral transactions are affected simultaneously by the larger cultural and structural conditions in which the transactions take place, the characteristics of the individuals participating in the exchanges, and aspects of the relationship between the two persons, which may be either transitory or may develop over time (Hulusjö, 2013; Milrod and Weitzer, 2012; Monto, 2004; O'Connell Davidson, 1998). The analysis of the cultural and structural contexts that shape paid sexual exchanges is further complicated by the fact that such contexts are numerous, intersecting rather than discrete, and extend through contexts that span multiple nation-states (Giddens, 1992).

Both Giddens (1992) and Bernstein (2007) describe emerging cultural formations in the USA and parts of Europe, in which sexuality and intimacy have become decoupled from reproduction, marriage, and the gender binary, a trend that Giddens has termed “plastic sexuality.” Bernstein argues that this decoupling has brought both a diversification of sexual labor and increased state involvement in the sex industry. She further argues that the sites of the most aggressive anti-prostitution efforts are often contested urban spaces in which coalitions of disparate interest groups unite behind an unacknowledged desire to excise “racial others” from gentrifying inner cities. In many parts of the USA, providers risk arrest and conviction for prostitution, often to a much greater extent than buyers, leaving them less likely to seek services and less empowered to seek legal protection from sexual and physical violence encountered in their work (Anderson et al., 2015; Dewey, 2011; Miller et al., 1993; Monto, 1998; Pfeffer et al., 2017; Weitzer, 2012). More recent efforts to reduce demand for prostitution in a variety of locations, including Sweden, Hong Kong, and some US states, have included arresting and prosecuting buyers, publicizing their names, and requiring them to attend diversion programs or “john schools.” These policies tend to reduce buyer power somewhat (Dempsey, 2010; Ekberg, 2004; Holt et al., 2008; Kong, 2015).

Giddens argues that, while changes in our understandings of gender and sexuality have the potential to be liberating, they also pose a challenge to patriarchal traditions. For example, in the USA, emerging tolerance of sexual diversity and greater gender inequality exist amid a sexual double standard critical of female promiscuity, in which women are blamed for offenses committed by men (Suarez and Gadalla, 2010). According to Giddens, such threats to patriarchy and masculinity have elicited a “rising tide of male violence toward women” (Giddens, 1992: 3).

The emerging emphasis on greater gender equality and freedom of sexual expression found in the most developed countries is not a global universal. For example, in Tijuana and Juarez, Mexico, a machismo-fueled version of masculinity, as well as a dwindling clientele of US sex buyers and limited alternatives for work, have left providers feeling less able to object to unsafe sexual practices (Robertson et al., 2014). And, in tropical sex-tourism markets, the relative wealth of western sex tourists means that male customers can bask in the service of compliant women who provide them with doting attention that they do not receive from more empowered women in their home countries (Katsulis, 2010; O'Connell Davidson, 2001). Some sex tourism markets prominently feature wealthy western women as customers and far less privileged local men as providers, underscoring the way gendered power differences vary in cross-national paid sexual exchanges (Gross, 2018; Klein, 2016).

Giddens is emphatic in arguing that, although larger structural conditions limit the options available to individual actors and thereby affect their power, the actors nevertheless have agency, the capacity to “make a difference to a pre-existing state of affairs or course of events” (1984: 14), and their degree of agency is not a perfect mirror of larger structural inequalities. As do agents in any encounter, actors in a transactional exchange do not confront each interaction as new; their previous experiences exist as resources that give them a sense of what is likely to occur and the possible alternatives. The interaction patterns between particular buyers and providers may also develop over time, as the two active agents delineate the boundaries and possibilities of their relationship. These internalized structures or “memory traces” provide a degree of constraint over such encounters (Giddens, 1984). Additionally, these encounters collectively contribute to the systemic patterns of interaction that constitute social structure (Stones, 2005). Giddens terms the relationship between structure and interaction, which is both shaped by and constitutive of structure, “the duality of structure.” Further, conceptions of social structure reflect both the agency of individual actors and the larger social constraints in which they operate. Accordingly, “the structured properties of social activity … are constantly recreated out of the very resources which constitute them” (Giddens, 1984: xxiii). Consistent with these principles, we argue that prostitution exchanges operate at the intersection of multiple structural patterns as well as the emergent patterns that each agent has actively developed during the course of their own prostitution experiences. Therefore, the power relationship between buyers and providers cannot be reduced to a simple mirror image of patriarchy or other structural inequalities.

Buyers vary in their power in exchanges with providers

While these macro-level contexts are essential for understanding the power dynamics between buyers and providers, structural inequalities do not translate directly into power differentials between individual actors in particular sexual exchanges. A great deal of human interaction may be seen as consisting of exchanges. Though prostitution has much in common with other exchanges (Armstrong, 1978), it warrants special consideration because it redefines sexual access to a provider's body as a commodity available for exchange (Monto, 2004) and because multiple categories of resources (love, money, comfort, status, sex) are exchanged. Framing prostitution as an exchange does not rule out exploitation (O'Connell Davidson, 2002). Giddens argues that:

[It is a fallacy that] purely ‘economic’ relations can be treated in abstracto. Economists speak of ‘capital,’ ‘commodities,’ ‘prices,’ and so on as if these had life independently of the mediation of human beings. This is plainly not so … Any and every ‘economic’ phenomenon is at the same time always a social phenomenon. (1971: 10)

A frank assessment of the power of buyers must acknowledge that not all men are in positions of power or benefit equally from patriarchy or other forms of privilege (Hart, 1994). Growing theory and research on masculinities (Connell et al., 2014) argues that there are different ways of doing masculinity, some of which are more aligned toward preserving or enhancing male power and supremacy than others (Coston and Kimmel, 2012). Additionally, hegemonic masculinity, a masculinity enmeshed in various structured social inequalities, is not equally accessible to all men (Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005). For example, men who are economically disadvantaged or face prejudice due to their racial or ethnic origins are at a structural disadvantage in terms of power. They in turn may experience less power in their relationships with providers than do more privileged men. Additionally, recent research has shown that some men with disabilities may have diminished access to conventional, non-remunerative sexual relationships compared to the able-bodied (Coston and Kimmel, 2012; Shakespeare, 1996). Sanders (2007) has argued that the sexual desires of the disabled have been neglected and that disabled persons have a “right to sexual citizenship,” which, under the right conditions, can be supported by the work of paid providers.

In terms of power dynamics between particular buyer–provider dyads, exchange theory predicts that some men experience less power and greater dependence in their sexual transactions than others, depending on their needs, resources, and options (Emerson, 1962; Homans, 1961). For men with less access to non-paid partners or who have unmet sexual desires, dependence on particular exchanges may be higher and the experience of power less apparent. Men who have poor social skills, extreme shyness, are in poor health, or have difficulty establishing conventional non-remunerative sexual relationships may feel more dependent and thus less empowered in their relationships with providers (Monto, 2001). Some men desire sexual acts or services that may be inaccessible to them among non-paid providers, leaving them feeling more dependent on providers in sexual exchanges (Monto, 2000).

Sexual experiences are only one aspect of the buyer–provider exchange, with some men seeking love, intimacy, or connection (Sanders, 2008a). A great deal of recent research has documented the rise of the so-called Girlfriend Experience or GFE, which combines sex with aspects of conventional, non-remunerative relationships (Milrod and Monto, 2012, 2016; Milrod and Weitzer, 2012). Many paid sexual encounters include some degree of emotional intimacy and significant feelings of attachment. In fact, some clients describe their motivations for seeking out providers as primarily relational (Armstrong, 1981; Sanders, 2008b). In these contexts, buyers may risk losing some of their potential power in the buyer–provider exchange because they fall in love with or become emotionally dependent on a particular provider. When the feelings are not mutual, the dependence of the provider becomes relatively low and their relative power greater. Among these buyers, those with fewer social connections, those who participate in non-sexual activities with providers, those who give extra gifts to providers apart from the sexual exchange, those who have an “all time favorite” or ATF, and those who have “fallen in love” with a provider are in positions of greater dependence and less power (Milrod and Monto, 2012, 2016; Milrod and Weitzer, 2012).

Monto and Milrod (2016) evaluated the relationship between a set of predictor variables and a simple measure of perceived provider power in a study of 208 older clients aged 60–84 who located providers online. Men who were wealthier, younger, healthier, had more total sexual partners, and had more frequent paid sex described providers as having less relative power than did men who were less wealthy, older, ill or disabled, had fewer sexual partners, and had less paid sex. Conversely, men who reported falling in love with a provider and believed that they could marry a former provider described providers as having greater relative power in their sexual exchanges. While customers' perceptions of provider power are clearly imprecise reflections of the power present in paid sexual exchanges, the study reinforces the idea that buyers do not universally perceive themselves to be in positions of power in prostitution exchanges.

Chronological aging itself represents an important factor in terms of power relationships between buyers and providers, and aging sex buyers are an interesting, yet elusive population. Although there is a growing recognition of the long-term sexuality of older adults (Kontula and Haavio-Mannila, 2009; Laumann et al., 2006), such individuals may have reduced access to conventional sexual relationships. Milrod and Monto (2016) reported that older customers were fairly frequently married to partners who had physical conditions that prevented sexual intercourse or even sexual intimacy of any kind. Such men may face particular difficulty establishing sexual relationships outside of their partnerships or may be reluctant to do so, making them feel more dependent and less empowered in their relationships with paid providers. Additionally, in a society in which youth is associated with attractiveness, older men may be viewed as less desirable sexual partners when they seek out conventional, non-remunerative sexual relationships. These issues could increase the degree to which older customers feel dependent on providers and have less power in their relationships with them. On the other hand, especially among more privileged men, age may be associated with greater status or economic stability, which could increase power and decrease dependence on a particular provider.

Implications of varying buyer power

There is ample empirical and theoretical evidence to argue against a static power relationship in transactional sex. As is true in other relationships, power relations between buyers and sellers vary depending on the structural characteristics of the society, the individual characteristics of the parties, and the emergent qualities of their relationships over time. Individuals in both dominant and subordinate structural positions have some degree of agency and the power to affect their circumstances and relationships (Giddens, 1984). The recurrent social practices of these individuals form one of the foundations of social structure. In turn, macro-level structural characteristics shape the relative power of buyers and providers. These vary not only from society to society but may also vary between regions within a society that have different legal, social, and cultural qualities. However, these macro-level power differentials do not translate uniformly to power differentials between buyers and providers, each of whom bring particular personal qualities and resources to an exchange and who interact together in relationships that have their own power dynamics. Customers do not uniformly experience themselves as being in positions of power in their relationships with providers. At the same time, providers may personally experience greater power during particular interactions with some clients, while being in weaker or vulnerable relationships with others, all mediated by the degree to which they are compelled by various larger structural forces to participate.

Meanwhile, customers are unlikely to have accurate understandings of the motives and constraints that drive individuals to sell sex. One aspect of the GFE is maintaining the illusion that such relationships are not just economic exchanges but mutually desired relationships (Milrod and Monto, 2012). Customers appear to be largely unaware of the constraints and pressures that drive the most vulnerable providers into sex work, with some scholars even arguing that sex buyers have a vested interest in seeing prostitution as positive, consensual, good clean fun, and neglecting evidence to the contrary (Monto, 2010). The argument that buyers, by sustaining sexual markets and ensuring the profits of pimps and other exploitive entities, contribute to systems that disempower women, does not require that buyers intend to disempower women. Instead, their continued support of sexual markets serves as what Giddens described as “the unintended consequences of action” that are connected with “institutionalized practices” (Giddens, 1984: 13).

One significant limitation of our analysis is that Giddens' framework does not provide a clear set of propositions about who holds greater power in a particular social interaction or how exactly macro-level social inequalities affect the power of particular agents. Recognizing that power relationships between buyers and providers are simultaneously influenced by structural contexts, personal qualities, and relationship characteristics, we are skeptical that such a framework could be developed. Further studies of the ways that specific structural contexts, including legal contexts, systems of belief about sexuality, economic conditions, and globalization processes shape power relationships between buyers and providers could provide important insights (see Hoang, 2015; Zelizer, 2005). Social exchange theory represents a complementary approach for understanding the ways these structural contexts affect specific individual exchanges. Our analyses only scratch the surface of how multiple contexts and resources affect power in prostitution exchanges. One strength of social exchange theory is that it could yield hypotheses and reveal specific patterns surrounding particular prostitution exchanges. Further research, perhaps based on more specific empirical examples, could provide a wealth of additional insight.

There is a panoply of theories on power and how it operates, and it is beyond the scope of this article to integrate and evaluate even a small proportion of this work. Instead, we argue that research on prostitution in general, and customers in particular, should recognize the multiplicity of factors that shape the relative power of buyers and providers, rather than implying or endorsing an “essentialist” perspective (Weitzer, 2009). Hulusjö (citing Chambon et al., 1999) argues that “agents are neither as autonomous in exercising their will as liberalism suggests, nor are their actions entirely determined and constrained by wider structures as suggested in structural thinking” (Hulusjö, 2013: 155). As Giddens explains, there are two faces of power: the “capability of actors to enact decisions which they favour on the one hand, and the ‘mobilization of bias’ that is built into institutions on the other” (Giddens, 1984: 15). There is evidence, both in case studies of buyers and in empirical studies (e.g. Monto and Milrod, 2016), that many of the structural and individual issues that would be expected to affect power relationships between buyers and providers actually appear to do so. Customers, predominantly men, do not experience the advantages of patriarchy equally. For some older, less desirable, more awkward, or disabled buyers, paying for sex may represent one of a very limited set of options for human sexual contact, rather than an expression of hegemonic masculinity.

While we note that the current debates surrounding prostitution have tended toward oversimplified conceptions of providers, buyers, and power, we purposely avoid entering into contemporary legislative debates about prostitution policy. Proponents of decriminalization imply that contemporary legal structures are the primary social context disempowering providers and affecting the way prostitution is practiced. This notion also assumes that reducing the stigma and legal risks faced by providers would give them greater agency with less risk of bodily harm. However, prostitution and the ways it is experienced are shaped by a myriad contexts, and changing its legal status alone might not significantly reduce harm or empower providers and might paradoxically serve to enlarge illicit sexual markets (Monto, 2004, 2014; Outshoorn, 2012). Conversely, proponents of abolition, who view prostitution as intrinsically oppressive, argue for sweeping policies that focus on punishing individual participants, especially male customers of female sex workers (Crowhurst, 2012; Sanders, 2009; Schur, 1988; Weitzer, 2012). This singular focus on eliminating prostitution fails to address the structural conditions that leave some providers particularly vulnerable to abuse and exploitation and may do little to address the extended social harms often associated with prostitution (Zeglin, 2014). Ultimately, we hope that recognizing the variable nature of power in buyer–provider relationships will allow for more nuanced understandings and contribute to research, theory, and policies that account for the variations in phenomena that fall under the term “prostitution.”