Abstract
Drawing on qualitative interview data, this article observes the current structure of the Melbourne-based male sex industry, taking into account the unpopularity of traditional sex work ‘venues’ such as the street, print advertising, brothels and agencies. In recent years, the internet has arisen as a viable alternative to these sites. Motivations for the pursuit of internet-based work are numerous and include perceptions of greater ease, convenience and accessibility; anonymity, autonomy and safety, but, above all, the potential for more lucrative returns. The article also highlights the seemingly large numbers of men using dating websites who are casually propositioned online and may consent to such proposals, suggesting further research is required to ascertain the characteristics and experiences of those involved in informal sex work activity.
Many industries have been revolutionized and forever altered since the advent of the internet, and the sex industry is no exception. Male sex workers have been less likely to engage with traditional sites associated with sex work (e.g. street, brothel, agency and print media-based work) and more likely to be found using the internet as a working tool for well over a decade, yet researchers have been unhurried in documenting the forces behind these changes. This article seeks to explain why male sex workers (MSWs) in Melbourne have turned away from formerly popular and lucrative sex work settings and embraced the technological ‘landscape’ in their sex working lives, and these changes are reflective of broader shifts in processes of consumption – where a range of perceived advantages of online interaction may lead individuals to ‘do business’ via the internet.
A relatively small but growing body of research has investigated men selling sexual services online (Döring, 2009; Lee-Gonyea et al., 2009; Koken et al., 2010; Minichiello et al., 2008; Parsons et al., 2001, 2007; Pruitt, 2005; Rowe, 2011; Uy et al., 2004). Uy et al. (2004) in particular analysed the reasons that a sample of internet-based male sex workers (IMSWs) had offered for engaging in sex work, with members of their sample responding it was primarily for the money (63 percent), to bolster a sense of self/confidence (28.3 percent), and for the enjoyment of sex (39 percent), with these findings largely supported by research with MSWs prior to the internet boom (Boyle et al., 1997; Perkins and Bennett, 1985; Prestage, 1994). However, Uy et al. (2004) do not explicitly discuss why their participants chose to operate over the internet – a quite separate issue to involvement in sex work in general. Parsons and colleagues (2007: 220) acknowledge the benefits of advertising via the internet, such as its ‘ease, availability and relatively low cost’, yet these reasons are not explored in-depth.
Although the benefits outlined by Parsons and colleagues may seem self-evident and do not explicitly demand further investigation, it is important to note that a preference for working over the internet is not found among MSWs in other comparable jurisdictions. For example, Wilcox and Christmann found that across their sample of nine MSWs in West Yorkshire, participants considered the internet to be ‘less likely to generate business [and] that those who did get in touch this way were less likely to be genuine clients’ (2008: 126).
Such reasoning and preferences for engaging with one medium over another may therefore be presumed to vary depending on the context or locale. Ultimately, however, it is the perception of an improvement or superiority in working conditions that leads many to work online, as opposed to the infallible reality of the advantages of internet-based advertising.
Bimbi and Parsons offer a relatively straightforward outline of the varying media, or ‘venues’ where MSW is carried out. These consist of ‘direct client-to-customer contact on the streets or in bars, mediated contact through an escort agency, and passive contact through the use of advertisements’ (2005: 85). As I will demonstrate, these sites within the sex industry have been radically restructured, with a decline in street, agency, brothel and print media-based work in correlation with the steady increase in MSWs selling their services over the internet.
A key motivation for undertaking this research lay in the understanding that very little is known about how MSWs in Melbourne (or Australia, for that matter) are going about their work. Prior to the publication of the groundbreaking book Being a Prostitute: Prostitute Women and Prostitute Men (Perkins and Bennett, 1985), MSWs were all but ignored in earlier accounts of sex work or ‘prostitution’ in Australia (e.g. Winter, 1976). A later attempt by Garrett Prestage (formerly known as Garry Bennett) in 1994 thoroughly documented the structure of the Sydney-based male sex industry, and recent research with MSWs in Melbourne has documented personal narratives (Rowe, 2006) and safe sex practices alongside questioning worker ‘need’ (Rowe, 2011). Yet no recent efforts have been made to ‘map’ the male sex industry, and to provide an overview of who is working, where and why. These factors are relevant in terms of shaping research agendas, as well as health, policy and service interventions; they are also necessary to provide a clear context and rationale for the exploration of IMSW.
I use this simple acknowledgment regarding the lack of information concerning this group of individuals as a starting point in framing certain research questions. There is an additional need for questions that deal with issues of both structure and agency in examining the dynamic relationships between workers, clients, and the technological power of the internet. In very simple terms, I ask: How is the male sex industry in Melbourne currently structured? How and why has the internet arisen as the dominant medium for men selling sex in Melbourne? What implications do these changes have for the provision of male-to-male sexual services online?
Drawing upon local research and qualitative interview data, I highlight the reticence that many workers in the industry have toward engaging with more traditional sex work media (e.g. the street, brothels/agencies and print advertising). Throughout, I make the argument that the sale of sexual services online offers MSWs much more in the way of convenience, perceived safety, anonymity and privacy, and, above all, economic gain. Additionally, the internet has allowed men using dating websites to casually proposition other users of the site, to the extent where almost any user may be constructed as a sex worker – introducing a range of questions regarding how we understand the involvement of men in the online sex industry.
Despite a number of perceived advantages of online male sex work, there are certain drawbacks or negative impacts associated with this line of work that cannot be alleviated by technological advances – for example, the impact upon one’s sex life and the ability to cope with stigma. Other impacts, however, appear to be a direct result of the internet’s influence, including the isolation experienced by workers, in lacking support networks via relationships with services and fellow workers. These negative impacts have been discussed at length elsewhere (McLean, 2012), and for the purposes of this article, it is appropriate to retain a focus upon MSWs’ motivations for using the internet as a site of employment.
Method
This article draws upon recent qualitative research conducted in Melbourne as part of a PhD investigating men’s sale of sexual services online. Ethics approval was obtained from the RMIT University Human Research Ethics Committee in April 2010 and field research was conducted between April 2010 and February 2011. A staff member from local sex worker service Resourcing Health and Education in the Sex Industry (RhED) was interviewed as a key informant for the study.
Websites used by gay men and men who have sex with men (MSM) for the purposes of casual and commercial sex (e.g. gaydar.com.au/Gaydar; rentboyaustralia.com/Rentboy) were examined in order to gauge the numbers of local men advertising the sale of sexual services online. A sample of 23 was recruited via these websites and cold-called to assess their interest in taking part. One street worker was recruited via advertising at RhED to provide information concerning local street sex work. Informed consent was obtained following the issue of a Plain Language Statement. Interviews with IMSWs ran for approximately an hour and participants were compensated AU$50 for their time and efforts.
Interview data comprising162 pages were transcribed and analysed thematically, with excerpts coded under the appropriately identified themes (e.g. ‘stigma’, ‘reasons for working online’, ‘relationship with services’, ‘sexual health testing’, etc.). Sub-themes were then identified and excerpts collated under the original theme (e.g. ‘reasons for working online’ – ‘convenience’, ‘more money’, ‘independence’). All participants have been assigned pseudonyms to protect their identities.
The declining street trade
The former Prostitute’s Collective of Victoria’s (PCV) newsletter Worker Boy and RhED’s current quarterly publication RED have, throughout the 1990s and early 2000s in particular, featured articles detailing the existence of a small but steady male street sex scene in St Kilda. In 2000, a Street Sex Policy Review was undertaken by the City of Port Phillip (Press, 2000), where 35–40 male street workers were said to be working around Chaucer Street and Shakespeare Grove. Four years later, a journalist for The Age newspaper estimated that up to 20 men or boys regularly worked at ‘The Grove’ (Moynihan, 2004). A representative of MSWs at RhED (a key informant of this study) considered numbers in 2011 to be around 10, or even half this number. Despite a reasonable amount of media (and moral) attention over the years, the existence of a street scene was barely known among most participants in this study.
A recent investigation into the illicit sex industry in Victoria reports the continuation of a ‘diminished trade’, with one worker noting that there is ‘a little bit of demand down there … [but now] you’d barely be able to get a job’ (Rowe, 2011: 32). These accounts of a decline in trade were supported by Jed, the sole street working participant in this study; although he seems to think that it is a result of a police crackdown in the area, a theory which was dismissed by RhED staff.
Perhaps a more sound explanation for the decline of male street sex work (in addition to a decreased client base) is that there now exist preferable and alternate means by which to procure trade. Indeed, as Calhoun and Weaver (1996) assert, there are some key pitfalls to working the streets – such as the possibility of arrest, the potential for violence, the requirement for one to have sex with undesirables, and also the possibility of not being paid for services. Although Rowe (2003) acknowledges the fact that harassment by carloads of young males rarely escalates beyond verbal insults, a male street worker in his 2006 study reported having his throat cut after providing sexual services (and considered the culprit to be expressing internalized homophobia). Other researchers have also highlighted the reality of homophobic attacks against street workers (Perkins and Bennett, 1985; Scott et al., 2005).
Coupled with the decline in trade, the threat of violence makes advertising online a far more desirable option, ‘standing’ in cyberspace as opposed to waiting for hours on a dark street corner in the elements, exposed to potential violence, and only for minimal remuneration. Through recent research, we know that a street scene for MSWs still seems to exist in many parts of the world, from the US (Kaye, 2007; Ross et al., 2007) and Canada (Dorais, 2005) to Israel (Leichtentritt and Arad, 2005), Pakistan (Towe et al., 2009) and the Dominican Republic (Padilla et al., 2008). However, it may be dying off elsewhere, such as London, where street workers have increasingly been found working from internet cafes (Gaffney, 2003, cited in Bimbi, 2007: 29), although no evidence arose throughout this investigation to suggest that this was occurring in Melbourne. As has been described above, working the Melbourne streets does not bring promises of concrete earnings in the form of a steady influx of potential clients. Not only is the street becoming increasingly unpopular as a meeting point for MSWs and their clients, but brothel and agency-based work have also experienced a waning interest.
The decline of the brothel and agency
Research participants indicated that brothel work is often looked upon unfavourably by MSWs, with five of the men interviewed having had some brothel experience but expressing dissatisfaction with brothels as a workplace. Many understandably are displeased with management keeping up to 50 percent of the client payments for sex (Parsons et al., 2004; Prestage, 1994), or even 75 percent of the fee as relayed by RhED staff, despite the supposed level of safety and cleanliness that can generally be provided by most brothels (ACT WorkCover Report, 2005).
There are only two brothels staffed with MSWs in Melbourne at the time of writing, with both establishments employing transgender workers alongside the males. Two male brothels may seem a small number in comparison to approximately 100 legal female-based brothels (Tatnel, 2011). However, this highlights that, comparatively, MSW is less organized than female sex work – with a seemingly large sector of the industry based online and via informal settings (as described below).
Barry noted extremely long waiting times of up to a week before he would see a client at a Melbourne brothel, forcing him to effectively live there for fear of missing out on a job. Similarly, Bailey was required to sleep at a brothel, undertaking 24-hour shifts. On one occasion he was able to make AU$1000 a week for his efforts, although one might consider this to be a relatively meagre sum in exchange for being on call around the clock. Further to this, brothel work requires the individual to complete a certain number of set shifts per week, without any guarantee of clients, and therefore, income.
The constant element of interpersonal competition that one may be subject to while undertaking brothel work is also perceived as a negative by many MSWs. All brothel workers are required to do an ‘intro’ for prospective clients, consisting of a brief spiel outlining what services they perform. It is, essentially, the opportunity for the worker to ‘close the deal’. When workers are vying against one another on a regular basis in order to secure clients, it is easy to see how tensions may rise, particularly when business is as slow as it appears to be for brothel-based MSWs.
Participants in this research provided evidence to explain why some males may prefer to work through more lucrative and less restrictive means, such as independent internet-based work: I did brothel [work] for about six months. I didn’t really like it because you’d have to stay on premises for [approximately] 10 hours.… [T]here was a shortage of people who wanted to do it, because everyone just wanted to be contacted randomly by phone and they didn’t want to be trapped in a workplace. And I ended up getting really frustrated and smoking pot and getting depressed, I just couldn’t deal with it – the reason why I quit working [a straight job] is because I didn’t want to be stuck working somewhere for eight hours a day. And they were really strict and they didn’t want you to leave, and there wasn’t much work, you’d be sitting there for eight hours a day not getting a job, because the competition was really fierce, so it became counter-productive. (Karl)
In some cases brothels may be an attractive entry point for some sex workers, where a period of ‘training and apprenticeship’ (Koken et al., 2010: 206) is undertaken, allowing new workers to familiarize themselves with the industry and its demands. In one study, up to 36 percent of MSWs were found to have commenced their sex work careers in brothels, as opposed to 57 percent commencing on the street (Boyle et al., 1997). These figures are challenged by the experiences of participants in this study (although it should be noted that the study was conducted prior to the internet boom).
Escort agencies have also experienced the decline in patronage by both MSWs and clients. The introduction of widespread telephone use following the Second World War allowed female escort agencies to flourish (Koken et al., 2010), with male escort agencies attracting the attention of researchers in more recent years (e.g. Salamon, 1989; Smith et al., 2008). Agency managers field calls from prospective clients and recommend available MSWs, seeking ‘to lend an aura of sophistication and glamour to their services, with escorts being portrayed as providers of “high-class” companionship’ (Koken et al., 2010: 205).
The experiences of agency workers are closely aligned with those of brothel workers; therefore an extended analysis of their experiences is not warranted here. In some situations, workers may be able to base themselves at home but will, however, be required to be ‘on call’ for set shifts, restricting their mobility in a similar way to brothels. Moreover, the rates charged for brothel work remain the same, with the agency worker often taking home only a certain portion of the client fee (Allen, 1980), and having little control over which clients they see (Koken et al., 2010).
Seven of the 23 IMSWs in this study had some experience of working at an agency, and mentioned the above as key disadvantages associated with this site (particularly the requirement to hand over up to half of their earnings to the agency). Given the reasons expressed above and the comparative advantages of internet work (as outlined below), we may be witnessing the fulfilment of Koken and colleagues’ prophecy that: ‘as the Internet becomes a more popular and visible venue for advertising, the need for agencies as a link between escorts and clients will decrease’ (2010: 213). I would, however, argue that the self-interest of workers in securing a more autonomous and lucrative working schedule is serving as a greater driving force, as opposed to the visibility of their advertising. Both research evidence and participants’ experiences indicate many MSWs are not interested in entering brothel work and, if they do, only engage for a short period of time, before moving to internet-based work to reap its associated advantages.
Private escorts and print media
Not to be confused with ‘call boys’ (i.e. agency workers), the private escort is the type of worker working completely independently of any management or procurer of clients. Consequently, this section refers to those using the local gay and mainstream print media to advertise their services. In contrast, the private worker who uses the internet as their preferred site is unencumbered by several drawbacks associated with newspaper or print advertising. Private escorts advertising in print media are required to continually replace (and pay) for their advertisements, typically only several lines long due to the cost in dollars per line, and, under Victorian legislation, may not include any explicit language. Workers must also submit a letter of registration with their Sex Work Act number (SWA number) which is rigidly enforced by print media. While officially the SWA number is required under the Act for online advertising, in practice this is not enforced by website operators (although other regulations, such as those specifying the types of photographs that can be used, are).
The local gay street press in Melbourne, including the publications MCV and Southern Star, incorporate a section for ‘escorts’. However, there are usually only several advertisements each week, if any. In attempting to gauge the number of advertisements one might find in a gay publication at the height of popularity in print advertising, issues of Outrage magazine from the 1980s and early 1990s were examined. Surprisingly, these featured very few escort advertisements. A significant number of personal ads featured weekly in the classifieds, although ads for the provision of commercial sex did not – a difference between the Australian sex industry and West and de Villiers’ (1992) description of ‘numerous’ escort ads 20 years ago in London. Simon Glass, reflecting on his experience as a private escort in Australia, notes the short-lived nature of print advertising: I didn’t realize the calls would constipate to a trickle within a few days of when my ad joined the other tombs in the classified graveyard. Newspapers suffer fast, absolute deaths. (1992: 50)
Further, the inability to include photographs is a hindrance that lends itself to much time wasting, with workers constantly being required to explain and justify their physical appearance to prospective clients over the phone: ‘when they found out I was dark they wanted blond. When they heard I was tall they wanted short’ (Glass, 1992: 51). Further, the luxury of being able to withdraw an advertisement is not afforded to workers advertising via the print medium. This left some, such as Kent, feeling as though they have less control over their work; with the ‘tangibility’ of print advertising potentially leaving them open to identification and subsequent stigmatization.
Print advertising is also expensive in comparison to internet advertising, with the former costing around AU$40–45 per week, while participants reported only paying around AU$60–70 a month for an ongoing online profile. Only two workers interviewed reported advertising in print media and claimed it to be a relatively successful means of attracting clients. Joseph favoured print media because of the ‘more loyal clients’ which it provides, while Tom considered it to be solid exposure, claiming to receive around 15 calls on the day his advertisement goes to press.
Considering the comparatively high cost of print advertising, it is unsurprising that many MSWs prefer to advertise over the internet, where current costs are significantly lower (and sometimes non-existent). Interestingly, and without a clear explanation, the internet has not taken off as an alternative mode of sex work everywhere in Australia (and certainly not around the world). For instance, print advertising in Adelaide is still relatively popular, with around 10–15 ads to be found in the newspaper The Advertiser for MSWs seeking clients in Adelaide. Yet, at the time of writing, there is only one Adelaide-based profile on Gaydar, in comparison to 47 in Melbourne and 72 in Sydney.
Ease, convenience and accessibility of internet-based work
Having discussed the pitfalls associated with more traditional sex work sites, what, then, are the perceived benefits of internet-based work? One motive for using the internet that was repeatedly mentioned by participants was that of its ease and convenience. The ability to work in the comfort of one’s own home, or location of their choice, even while travelling, is understandably more appealing than loitering on a dark street corner, or attempting to bear the tedium of a brothel.
It’s high exposure, and [with] the internet, you’re comfortable, you’re at home, talking to people; you don’t have to be out on the streets, not that I’d go out on the streets anyway.… It’s just easier, it’s busier. You’re going to get more exposure on Gaydar than anywhere else. (Brian) I think it’s just accessible; you can do it from your sofa. It’s more reliable. (Sam) I can do it all from home, or wherever I take my laptop. It’s marketing without needing to do any marketing. I noticed some kid put stickers all over Melbourne, on toilets, whatever, [saying] ‘hi my name’s David’ … and I was like ‘God, imagine having to do that.’ (Seth)
As Raymond said: ‘I use Gaydar to advertise, and then they come to me.’ Part of this convenience seems to be based on the notion of ‘clients coming to them’, rather than IMSWs being required to openly solicit for work. Still, workers providing outcalls are required to travel to each client, and this is not entirely convenient in comparison to a brothel environment, where workers may relax and physically wait for prospective clients to come to them – a particularly pertinent factor for the three workers who rely on taxis as their primary mode of transport.
The majority of the research sample recruited for this study did offer outcalls, with some only offering outcalls for a variety of reasons, such as the need to maintain a barrier between commercial sex and private sex with a casual or long-term partner. Others may not wish to ‘bring work home’ for safety reasons, given that security may be compromised by clients knowing where one resides. They may also avoid working from ‘home’ for legal reasons. It is prohibited to work from home as a sex worker under the Victorian Sex Work Act (1994). Workers face fines or even imprisonment if they are found to be servicing clients from their own premises, with such an arrangement tantamount to running an illegal brothel operation under the legislation. A number of those IMSWs interviewed were keen to articulate their willingness to adhere to at least some aspects of sex work legislation in Victoria, even if they are not registered as a sex worker, through such disclaimers as: ‘[I] can’t host clients at home as technically that’s illegal.’ However, regardless of the regular travel they are required to do, working independently over the internet enables IMSWs to work when and where they wish to, as opposed to working fixed shifts for no guaranteed income (i.e. as is the case in brothel or agency-based work).
Anonymity, autonomy and safety
The desire for greater levels of anonymity, autonomy and safety are also related to the increasing popularity of internet-based work. In terms of anonymity, rather than providing the personal information required by brothel or agency owners in order to work, IMSWs (particularly those working without SWA numbers) are able to construct a (potentially) anonymous online identity, without fear of having their personal details known. Further, those who wish to cease sex work, whether for a short or longer period of time, or even altogether, are able to temporarily or permanently delete their profile and effectively cease being a sex worker from that point. 1
You can remove those [internet] profiles whenever you like and all of a sudden you’ve disappeared from that world.… You’ve left a trace, but who really is looking up all that, who’s going back into hard drives and whatever? … It’s just really, really easy and convenient. And all you need is a good photographer to come and take a few good shots. (Seth) I think – you control it a bit more, like if I wanted to take it off or whatever, or reword the ad, things like that, you have more control. (Sam)
In exercising their autonomy, workers are able to feel as though they are ‘in control’, working on their own terms and not answerable to any particular authority – this perspective was captured by both Tom and Santos: I’ve always worked independently – you’ve just got more control over who you see, when you see them, when you work. You don’t have to go and sit in a venue and wait for clients to choose you. And you make a lot more money for the time you spend as well. (Tom) I’m a lazy escort, because if it doesn’t suit me, I won’t do the job, like if someone calls me at 10 at night and I’m sitting on the couch and can’t be stuffed, I’ll [think] ‘Nah, you should have called me two hours ago.’ It’s that kind of thing; I just take it when it suits me.… I don’t answer the phone, or if it’s a text message I don’t reply. (Santos)
In discussing advantages of internet-based work with participants, this medium was typically perceived to be safer than other forms of sex work, particularly street work. With internet-based work, workers are off the streets, away from potentially random violence (Scott et al., 2005) carried out by groups of homophobic males searching for ‘easy targets’, or disturbed and confused individuals angered by inner struggles with their sexual identity. Further, they are also in a position to select, or ‘screen’ clients at their own discretion. One such ‘screening’ technique includes requesting a potential client to call the worker so that the worker can attempt to decipher their social status or class. Underlying this approach is the assumption that the more coherent and compliant a potential client appears to be, the less likely it is that he will cause trouble for the worker.
You can tell by the tone of their voice, how they speak, all of that. If they can’t string a sentence together, I just say, ‘No, some other time, go away [and] try somewhere else.’ And the ones who start negotiating on price, I say, ‘Fine, go somewhere else.’ (Sam)
Participants in West and de Villiers’ study also adopted this simple yet seemingly effective strategy, with one private worker in their study confirming that he would accept or reject clients depending ‘on what they sound like on the phone’ (1992: 230). Other workers may be more likely to evaluate potential clients by photos they have posted on their own web profile (if these are available), and make a judgement based upon how clients present themselves.
You can see who’s contacting you … and if a person doesn’t have a picture and they message me, then I won’t take a booking … more for security and so on. (Matheus)
A phone conversation would seem to be less useful to workers attempting to determine what type of person a prospective client might be (a process that several workers termed as ‘sussing out’ the client), in contrast to viewing the client’s personal profile or using the internet to collate information about them. Once again, a key difference from other avenues of sex work is the likelihood that a client will also have a personal profile online – although for websites such as Rentboy this is not the case, given that it is strictly a commercial website and does not facilitate personal dating (i.e. non-commercial activity) in the manner that Gaydar does. Miles and Brian would always investigate the profile of a prospective client before meeting with them, and were likely to refuse the booking if a client did not provide a profile, or if the client was not to their liking.
Sometimes, if it’s just in a call, I’ll just say, ‘What do you want? What are you after?’ If I don’t like the sound of them, I’ll say ‘What’s your profile, I can send you some more information’, just that way I’ve got their profile name and I can search for it … if somebody’s really feral you can say no, just get a sense of what they want – you can look at them, and there’s that sense of exchange first, in terms of ‘Yep, I can do that, no I can’t do that.’ (Miles)
Jared would take the investigative process even further by searching for the client’s property information, in order to decipher their possible class status, preferring to service only the wealthier of individuals (assuming that they would be much less likely to be violent or unappealing than working-class men). This approach is also indicative of forward planning and strategic thinking in seeking new, long-term clients. Needless to say, for the more selective of workers, this approach serves as an instrumental advantage of internet-based work, awarding them greater levels of perceived safety and even fiscal security in contrast to what street, brothel or agency workers may expect.
Raymond was less stringent in his selection process, content merely with ‘somebody that doesn’t abuse you over the phone’. Some participants spoke of refusing to answer calls to their cell phones from a private number, which appears to be a relatively common practice among the wider IMSW population. Upon browsing IMSW profiles across the websites Gaydar and Rentboy, many stated ‘blocked numbers ignored’ (or similar). This actually compromised initial attempts to recruit participants for this research given that several recipients of calls made from the phone at RMIT University refused to answer. Being in possession of a client’s telephone number provides the worker with some evidence of their identity (and even their whereabouts if a call is made from a landline). This in itself made a number of participants feel safer in the knowledge that, in the unlikely event that the encounter goes awry, they have some information that could lead to the identification of the client by friends or authorities. In essence, the perception of increased levels of safety is a common explanation for individuals’ decision to work online, although, as is discussed elsewhere (Rowe, 2011), individuals’ concerns for their safety are not completely allayed via IMSW.
Economic gain
While there are numerous reasons that explain the growing popularity of the internet as a means of soliciting sex services, by far the most commonly cited motive was the capacity to earn greater amounts of money. All participants mentioned, in one way or another, that internet-based work had the potential to be very profitable, with several participants earning in excess of AU$1500 per week, and even as much as AU$5000. While one participant argued that advertising via the newspaper can be just as lucrative, the key point is that Victorian workers must provide proof of their SWA number before they are permitted to advertise in print, whereas there is neither the regulatory oversight on the part of government nor the ability on the part of website operators to research and verify compliance with regulations governing sex work, allowing unregistered sex workers to advertise via the internet. Seth noted that ‘[working] the street is crap money’ (his emphasis), while street worker Jed reported charging ‘50 bucks for oral and 100 for anal’. Needless to say, the prospect of being able to charge AU$200 per hour or more, and for those working without SWA numbers, to be able to retain all of that without being required to surrender a significant portion to either a brothel or agency owner or, alternatively, the tax department, is far more appealing.
I didn’t want to be dividing my cash among an agency … so that was never an option for me. To have some old guy who’s clearly not as attractive as me making money off me clearly doesn’t make any sense. Particularly if I have to travel to do it, I may as well just organize my own travel.… I make more than my brother who is a cardiac surgeon, and I barely work. I have more free time than anyone I know … so I’m making the same amount as a surgeon or lawyer in way less time. But then they don’t have to get their kit off and have people fuck them, so I appreciate that there’s a dual compensation going on. (Seth) I don’t want to have the pressure of having someone else tell me what to do, and sometimes working for an agency, you’re just not up for it, and they make it really difficult … plus they take a cut. (Karl)
One of the more notable examples of using the internet to maximize earning capacity was seen in Jared’s experience of sex working in Dubai. Over several months prior to their arrival, Jared and a friend would make contact with potential clients who, after arriving, they would then see discreetly at hotels over the course of a week or two. Given the illegality of such activity in the United Arab Emirates, clients were willing to pay above typical market prices in Australia for Jared’s time, and each trip earned him at least AU$30,000. Clearly, these trips could not be arranged without the resources of the internet, demonstrating the extent to which online technology has further commoditized sex work and, in doing so, drastically raised the earning potential in the industry. However, such lucrative rewards can be overshadowed by the risk and anxiety involved in working illegally – an issue that is afforded adequate exploration elsewhere (e.g. Rowe, 2011). In summarizing the reasons for the emergence of this new paradigm of male sex work, Kent explicitly stated what many interviewees implied – the commonsensical understanding and acceptance of the fact that the internet is simply the most effective resource for initiating contact in the contemporary age: ‘We’re in 2011, this is how we communicate.’
Informal engagement in IMSW
In addition to the range of perceived benefits of IMSW that have been identified in this article, it is also necessary to identify a key implication arising from the internet’s popularity, and to briefly examine how it affects the nature of commercial sexual exchanges online. A number of men are somewhat regularly offered cash for sex in settings unique to the gay/MSM population, such as beats (i.e. parks, public toilets) and sex on premises venues (Prestage, 1994; Rowe, 2011). In addition, and more pertinent to this article’s understanding of the extent to which the internet has revolutionized the male sex industry, are the reportedly large numbers of (young) men who are propositioned via commercial dating websites (e.g. Gaydar), often by older men. The young men in question may provide sexual services in exchange for cash without necessarily advertising or marketing themselves as a sex worker.
Very little is known about this group, yet their numbers (in conjunction with those propositioned in gay venues) may far outstrip those who are sex working professionally (i.e. via advertising). One informant, Karl, suggests these men may make up a considerable proportion of all men providing sexual services. In light of his observations, it could be argued that they comprise the bulk of the 18.3 percent of men who report engaging in sex work at least once (see Prestage et al., 2010).
A lot of people don’t advertise, they’re just on [dating websites], younger guys mostly, and they constantly get offers.… I know some of my young friends just get hit on like 10 times a day, just on their normal Manhunt or Gaydar profiles. So, there’d be thousands out there that don’t advertise or anything. (Karl)
The incidence, frequency and recurrence of these types of online experiences are not known, nor is the extent to which this type of casual engagement may serve as a precursor to a more prolonged and official stint as a sex worker (via advertising), as was the case for several workers, including Jack.
Somebody online saw photos of myself [on a personal profile] and offered me money, and [at] any other time in my life, I would have laughed, like, ‘As if!’ … I basically considered it [but] I didn’t go through with it, but [my involvement in sex work] sort of started [then]. (Jack)
Several ‘offers’ requesting sex for cash were sent to me while I was online seeking research participants. Given the content of such messages (e.g. the absence of any personal information and explicit pornographic content), they appear to be sent en masse. One can only wonder as to how many men, possibly driven by economic need, sexual desire or curiosity, might seek to follow up on such proposals.
The consequence of such online activity is that any (though likely young and attractive) male patronizing such websites may be constructed as a sex worker; the exchange of cash for intimacy is normalized. The casual positioning of strangers as potential sex workers, willing to satiate one’s sexual desires, creates a new paradigm in terms of how we understand the limitations that gay men/MSM put on the display of their sexuality. In this way, the internet allows ‘clients’ using such websites to co-opt and commercialize images and online identities which may be sexualized but are not intended for commercial consumption (i.e. they are intended for dating/non-commercial purposes). Therefore, due to their accessibility and via the offering of financial incentives, such images and identities may be manipulated in a manner that is impossible to carry out with other image-based media in the sex industry (e.g. pornography).
Gay men have been accused by lesbian feminists of championing a public-sex-oriented agenda (e.g. Jeffreys, 2003) via their long history of using beats. Is the internet the latest tool to facilitate this supposed agenda, and what are the impacts upon those being asked to partake in such informal commercial sexual activity? Unsolicited proposals are certainly considered offensive by some (as mentioned by Jack prior to the embarkation of his sex working career). The frequency of such offers seems to normalize the implied behaviour in the eyes of a significant number of young men, and drastically alters our understanding of what constitutes commercial and non-commercial sex. Indeed, within this context, one must wonder if the terms ‘client’, or ‘sex worker’ even remain appropriate.
Conclusion
This article has provided an overview of the male sex industry in Melbourne, Australia, by drawing attention to the varying sites where MSWs can be found. It has demonstrated that formerly stable sites of MSW in Melbourne have been reduced to marginal positions within the male sex industry. There are a number of reasons offered here for why this has occurred – predominantly due to MSWs’ perceptions of the key disadvantages associated with each, and how many of these may be circumvented via the use of the internet. Given these unfavourable perceptions of street, print media, brothel and agency-based work, it is clear that the internet may possess certain advantages for the individual worker. For example, participants in this study repeatedly emphasized the greater levels of convenience, perceived safety, anonymity and privacy that can be enjoyed when working online. Furthermore, the ability to secure more significant (and tax-free) financial returns due to an enhanced capacity to advertise widely, and even internationally, provides a key incentive for engagement with the internet as a working tool.
Certain aspects of worker’s perspectives cannot be easily refuted – particularly the ease, convenience and fiscal gain associated with soliciting via an internet profile as compared to alternative means of soliciting trade (waiting for clients in the street late at night for lesser remuneration, for example). However, certain situations may not necessarily be considered objectively advantageous, particularly in respect of workers’ safety. This article contributes to an emerging strand of research examining the increasing popularity of the internet among MSWs, using Melbourne as a case study to demonstrate the internet’s capacity to reshape and redefine the (male) sex industry. Beyond the local knowledge of a few frontline services and a rather narrow strand of academic research, little is known about MSWs given that analysis and investigation of this group is usually neglected in favour of studying their more topical, visible and thus research-accessible female counterparts.
An analysis of this altered industry is a significant step towards appreciating the consequences, both positive and negative, for the male (and female and transgender) sex workers involved. Certain issues and needs, for example, isolation and legal concerns (e.g. McLean, 2012; Rowe, 2011) have arisen that are unique to individuals working online, and it is hoped that this research can assist sex worker advocacy and support services in tailoring appropriate responses.
Further research is required to investigate the (possibly sizeable) population of men engaging in online sex work on an informal basis (i.e. without advertising or marketing themselves as a sex worker), and to consider in detail the processes and outcomes associated with this. It is clear that this technological paradigm continues to alter our understanding of the manner in which male-to-male commercial sex is negotiated – both on and offline.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank Dr James Rowe and Professor Pavla Miller of RMIT University, Melbourne for their patient and helpful supervision, in addition to the reviewers who made comments on the original manuscript.
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
