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Hooked on the craft

Crocheting is a balancing act. To make each stitch, one hand grips the hook and the other controls the tension of the yarn: Too taut, and the project will turn out cramped, stunted; too loose, and it will be flimsy, undefined. 

 

I was 10 when my Oma taught me to crochet, and it took a full week. Each day we practiced together, her worn but still-deft hands guiding mine until I could yarnover, chain stitch, and single crochet. I marveled at the diversity in her repertoire, from delicate lace doilies made with thread to bulky crewneck sweaters spun from Icelandic sheep’s wool. My first project was restricted to a simple square (though it looked more trapezoidal), but it felt like mine—here, at last, was something I had made. 

 

There’s something magnetic about crafting, whether it’s crocheting a scarf or knitting a sweater. For many students, it becomes a reprieve from the hustle of everyday life, a chance to wretch our hands from the vice of our keyboards. Just as uniform stitches require careful attention to balance, students too must work to manage their personal and academic lives during remote learning semesters and beyond. While academics may in some ways prove a hindrance to crafting, they are also a conduit by which to channel creative energy. Unlike nebulous professional or personal aspirations, which may prove fruitless despite best efforts, crafting is foolproof: Learn the technique, follow the instructions, and voila—a handmade, three-dimensional scarf, sweater, blanket, or amigurumi has been transformed from a simple ball of yarn. 

Crafting becomes a meditation, a mindfulness that rewards the practitioner not only with a creative outlet but a physical, meaningful result. Although crocheting and knitting was once pegged as tedious monotony, it is this very consistency that offers a sanctuary from the difficulties of present life.

Research Briefs, Science & Technology

Puffy exoplanet challenges traditional notions of planet formation

Since the first exoplanet was discovered in 1992, scientists have identified more than 4,000 of these astronomical bodies. Exoplanets—planets found outside our solar system—have been shown to challenge traditional theories of planet formation, which were based on Earth’s own system. 

A recent study has revealed that gas giants can form from a smaller core than previously thought possible. The study was led by Caroline Piaulet, a PhD student at the University of Montreal’s Institute for Research on Exoplanets (iREx), in collaboration with a team of astronomers including Eve Lee, an assistant professor in the Department of Physics at McGill and the McGill Space Institute.

The exoplanet WASP-107b, which orbits the star WASP-107, was first observed in 2017. This gas giant is classified as a “super-puff”—a planet with a very large radius compared to its low mass.

The initial low estimate of its mass prompted researchers to seek a more accurate estimate using data collected over several years by the Keck Observatory in Hawaii. Using the radial velocity method, they could determine the planet’s mass by observing the effect of its gravitational pull on its host star. This independent, direct measurement of the mass showed that the planet was even lighter than expected—about 10 times lighter than Jupiter but similar in size.

Planets begin to form when dust and gas particles surrounding a young star in a protoplanetary disk clump together. If a massive rocky core is formed, its strong gravitational pull can accrete enough gaseous atmosphere to create a gas giant before the disk dissipates.

WASP-107b’s low density suggested that while the gas envelope comprises over 85 per cent of its mass, its core is no more than four times the mass of Earth. This estimate is significantly lower than the previously believed threshold of about 10 earth masses considered necessary to form a gas giant.

“The bigger implication [is] that it doesn’t take as much solid [material] as we thought to make a gas giant,” Piaulet said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “The riddle that it posed was how could such a big planet form from such an apparently low-mass core.”

 

One theory is that WASP-107b formed farther away from its star than its current location, and the colder temperature allowed the core to accumulate an atmosphere faster.

“One way to think about this is that [the core] has some gravitational sphere of influence, that is, the maximum radius in which you can gather some gaseous atmosphere initially,” Lee said in an interview with the Tribune. “But this atmosphere eventually cools down […] and shrinks, [leaving] some empty room within this gravitational sphere of influence for the ambient gas to refill. And that means that if it can cool faster, you can gather a more massive envelope a lot quicker.”

The team considered the possibility of the planet interacting with WASP-107c, another planet in the system. Located farther away from its host star than WASP-107b, WASP-107c has a notably eccentric orbit. Deviation from a near-circular orbit is a sign of some disturbance in the planet’s history, which could indicate an encounter with another planet.

“Imagining that both [WASP-107b and WASP-107c were] far from the star, having a close interaction of the two might have slingshotted [WASP-107b] into an eccentric orbit such that the closest approach point was very close to the star,” Piaulet said. “And eventually […] every time it gets closer to the star, the star tug[s] on it and shrinks [the orbit].” 

In this scenario, even at its closest point to the host star, WASP-107c would still have been too far to circularize its eccentric orbit, unlike WASP-107b. 

The researchers plan to continue studying WASP-107b, particularly its atmosphere. The molecular features of the atmosphere differ depending on the distance from the star at which the planet forms and could provide new evidence for the planet’s formation location. The James Webb Telescope, set to launch in October 2021, will collect more data for the research. 

content warning, Editorial, Opinion

Academic freedom does not justify discrimination

*Content Warning: This article discusses systemic discrimination and suicide.

On Jan. 19, the Religious Studies Undergraduate Society (RSUS) published an open letter calling on McGill to address discriminatory behaviour by Dr. Douglas Farrow, a faculty member in the School of Religious Studies. The letter describes how Professor Farrow creates a harmful environment in his classes, particularly towards 2SLGBTQIA+ students, violating McGill’s preferred name policy and expressing hostile views towards transgender individuals and same-sex marriage. Academic freedom must never outweigh the safety of marginalized students. McGill must act to protect its students and clarify the scope of its policy to recognize its supposed commitment to equity. 

While McGill has yet to release a statement directly addressing concerns over Farrow, the university has sent out two separate emails this academic year reaffirming its commitment to academic freedom. The first addressed a controversy at the University of Ottawa, where a non-Black instructor used an anti-Black slur in class. The second was in response to an open letter from the Students’ Society of McGill University that denounced Professor emeritus Philip Carl Salzman––who has published racist views about Middle Eastern people––and called for McGill to overhaul its policy on academic freedom. In both emails, the university claimed that academic freedom and equity and inclusion cannot supersede one another, yet failed to acknowledge the harm students experienced.

Academic freedom is undoubtedly important; at its core, the principle is meant to protect academics from arbitrary punishment and secure their ability to research freely. In the classroom, it allows for the expression of any idea or opinion without fear of censorship. But at times, academic freedom can be used as a cover for instructors to propagate harmful ideas, allowing educators to equate discrimination to a difference of opinion and a simple matter of freedom of speech under insufficient university policies. The fact that Farrow teaches required courses forces queer students to interact with someone in a position of power who believes their identity is a threat and refuses to use their correct name and pronouns. When rates of suicide amongst trans individuals are higher than almost any other demographic, that Farrow or any other instructor can get away with this is deeply troubling. 

Behaviour of this kind can serve to work against the principles of academic freedom and open discussion in the long term by discouraging marginalized individuals from pursuing academia. If students are forced into unsafe learning environments, they may be less likely to remain in the field to conduct their own research. Additionally, marginalized faculty members may feel less safe expressing their own views for fear of discrimination.

In principle, academic freedom should work in tandem with equity and inclusion to create a safe university environment; in practice, McGill has failed to show much consideration for the latter. It does not help that the university’s statement on academic freedom is vague, making it difficult to know where the line is drawn between academic freedom and punishable discrimination. While the university is clear that academic freedom cannot be used as a defence against hate speech or otherwise illegal behaviour, discrimination often goes beyond what is explicitly outlined by law. As such, McGill must redefine the boundaries of their statement. 

As with freedom of speech, academic freedom should not directly translate to total freedom from consequences. Farrow’s position as an academic should not give him an unquestionable right to teach required courses. There can and should be ways to ensure a safe learning environment, and allowing students to opt out of courses taught by Farrow and others with actively harmful views is but one example. McGill cannot flaunt its preferred name policy, its plan to address anti-Black racism, or any other initiative while failing to address hateful behaviour towards students and faculty.

Sports

The creative realms of fictional sports

In many long-running TV or book series, there is a game or sport that is wildly popular in-universe, but does not exist in real life. They range from one-off mentions, like Velocity in Star Trek: Voyager, to plot-central activities, like podracing in Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace.

Calvinball

The comic strip Calvin and Hobbes features a chaotic, incomprehensible game called Calvinball, which has only three rules: Calvinball games may never be played the same way twice, players can invent rules whenever they please, and masks must be worn at all times. Aspects of the game featured in the comic include the “Pernicious Poem Place,” where players must recite poetry, the “Song Zone,” where they must sing, and nontraditional scores of “Nosebleed to Trousers” and “Q to 12.” 

Podracing

Podracing, as featured in the Star Wars franchise, is a sport where drivers, mostly non-humans, pilot small crafts to compete in races so dangerous that the sport is outlawed between Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Episode IV: A New Hope. In Episode I: The Phantom Menace, a young Anakin Skywalker wins his freedom through his podracing skills. Podracing gives film viewers all the fun of traditional racing with the added excitement of bizarre-looking creatures and faraway planets.

Exy

Nora Sakavic’s All for the Game trilogy centers around a ragtag NCAA Exy team. Exy resembles co-ed lacrosse, but is played on an indoor court and tends to be more violent, with a character being expelled via red card in nearly every game in the books. It was invented in Japan a few decades before the books are set, and quickly made its way to the U.S., where it caught on and expanded to college-level and professional leagues, and eventually became an Olympic sport.

Pro-bending

One of the more complex fictional sports featured on this list is pro-bending from The Legend of Korra. Benders, who can manipulate water, earth, fire, or air, use their powers to defeat their opponents in a sport loosely inspired by pro wrestling.

Each team consists of an earthbender, a waterbender, and a firebender, with specific rules governing the use of each bending type—for example, only waterbenders may make headshots. Pro-bending is extremely popular in-universe and plays a key role in the show, as the protagonist, Korra, joins a pro-bending team in the first season. The daring martial arts-inspired moves are mesmerizing, and the tension as they attempt to knock their opponents into receding territory zones or out of the ring is electric.

Quidditch

Quidditch is by far the most well-known and expansive fictional sport. Originating in the Harry Potter series, Quidditch is played on flying broomsticks. Over the years, it has been given an immense amount of attention. In addition to Quidditch matches often serving as the backdrop for character conflict and plot development, the supplementary book Quidditch Through the Ages tells the story of the “historical” development of Quidditch, lists common strategies and some of the 700 fouls in the sport, and provides an overview of its place in the wizarding world.

As the phenomenon of Harry Potter grew, Quidditch jumped out of the pages and was adapted to non-magical play by a group of students at Middlebury College in Vermont in 2005. In the 16 years since, scores of other schools, including McGill, have created Quidditch teams, and there is even a semi-professional league operating in North America. Although players cannot fly, they do hold broomsticks between their legs, and games can get almost as physical as they do in the books.

Not only are fictional sports invaluable contributions to worldbuilding, they can also give fans a physical way to connect with their favorite forms of media, whether through video game tie-ins or real-world versions. While one may never be able to live in the world of The Legend of Korra, they can become just as excited about a hero’s pro-bending victory as the characters do.

Off the Board, Opinion

The bad omens of Fall 2019

We all remember the day we heard about the samosa ban. The news rocked all of our worlds; we had been robbed of our beloved, cheap campus snack. But the ban was not the first of bad news on campus in the Fall of 2019. Reflecting on this particular semester—the last to be unaffected by COVID-19—I realize now that the samosas were one of three terrible omens of what was to come just a few short months later. 

Let’s rewind a bit. The first event that indicated the coming doom was the closure of the Arts Lounge and the subsequent decline of Bar des Arts (BdA) as a central social location on campus. I remember when I heard this news in the summer of 2019. After having just finished my first year at McGill, an experience that was defined in large part by being a BdA staff member, the thought of not spending my Thursday evenings in the basement of Leacock serving beers was difficult for me to wrap my head around. I chose to remain optimistic, but this hope later proved to be naive.

I barely had time to process the absence of BdA before even more devastating news struck the McGill community: Selling samosas had been banned on campus. Samosas, a uniting force, a delicious treat, a shining light on a dark day, were no longer there to make our days. We had been robbed of the savoury, spicy glue that held our large and often flimsy campus community together. Surely, it could not get any worse than this. 

Although I was disappointed that my second year experience would be different from what I had envisioned, I remembered that Gerts was set to reopen in December 2019. Knowing that my BdA experiences could be replaced by good times spent at a different beloved student bar relieved my mourning. I had never experienced a night at Gerts, but from the excitement of my upper-year friends I could tell that it would be worth the wait.

Of course, this dream too was crushed. An Oct. 28 email from SSMU announced yet another delay in re-opening the University Centre. I was disappointed, of course—the dream of having a go-to social spot on campus that was not the Redpath Café was becoming more and more unrealistic. To consider Blues Pub as an alternative would go against my BdA roots.

Undoubtedly, there was good news in the Fall of 2019 that eased some of the pain. One example was the surprise that Première Moisson, with its overpriced snacks and bad coffee, was replaced with better food options. More importantly, McGill did the bare minimum and finally changed the racist men’s varsity team name after months of protests led by Indigenous students.

While it is nice to focus on the bright side, let’s face it: Things suck right now, and we should let ourselves mourn what once was. The reality is, most students are missing campus life and are fondly looking back on the months before the pandemic flipped our worlds upside-down. However, as we reflect, we should remember that even before March 2020, a certain kind of McGill student culture was already on the decline. We can understand now that the trifecta of BdA closure, samosa ban, and the Gerts delay was only a taste of what was to come.

Hopefully, one day, we will be able to attend campus social gatherings and eat old samosas without washing our hands beforehand. It will be a beautiful day, but it must not be taken for granted. McGill students deserve to experience the vibrant campus community that slipped away from us in the Fall of 2019, hopefully with the same traditions that shaped the campus culture for which McGill was once known.

Science & Technology

A walk a day keeps the doctor away

Every year, McGill students curse the campus terrain as they trudge up the hill towards the Life Sciences Complex. However, the health benefits of climbing up the hill are abundant. Research has shown that for those able, walking reduces the rates of cardiometabolic diseases like diabetes, heart attacks, and strokes. 

A new study conducted by a group of McGill researchers explores the link between a city’s walkability scores and rates of cardiometabolic disease and mortality.

“Cardiometabolic diseases, such as cardiovascular diseases and diabetes, are the kinds of chronic diseases that are influenced by individual behavioursnamely physical inactivity and diet,” Sarah Mah, a PhD candidate in McGill’s Department of Geography, wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune.

Active living environments, also known as walkable environments, are defined as easily navigable areas with well-connected walking paths, a variety of destinations within walking distance, and denser populations. The team wanted to expand on previous research that showed that these types of neighbourhoods are linked to positive health outcomes. 

The group conducted their study using data from 250,000 respondents from the Canadian Community Health Survey and death records from the Canadian Mortality Database. The datasets contained information regarding social and demographic characteristics as well as health behaviours like physical activity levels. Afterwards, Mah and her colleagues used the Canadian Active Living Environments (Can-ALE) database to assess how living environments impact physical activity levels, and the risk of premature cardiometabolic death.

The team observed that people walked more frequently in neighbourhoods with favourable conditions for active living. They also found that walking was associated with lower premature cardiometabolic death in all groups except for middle-aged men. On average, people walked more in these environments, regardless of sex and age. 

Overall, these results highlight the importance of the built environmentman-made structures and features in a neighbourhoodin shaping behaviour and health. 

“We have seen a huge increase in obesity rates and overweight rates over the last 30 to 40 years,” Mah said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “One of the ways to curtail that is to encourage people to be physically active. Whether our neighbourhoods are built to support active lifestyles is part of that.”

Mah believes these environments can also encourage sustainability.

“We are heading towards a future that is not looking good in the way of climate change,” Mah said. “I think figuring out how to structure our environment such that we can reduce motorized transportation and live more sustainably is going to be really important.” 

Mah suggests that improvements on neighbourhood design plans can be made by considering these research findings.

“The research shows that neighbourhoods that support active living tend to be places that are easy to navigate, have more people, and have more places that people can walk to for their daily needs and activities,” Mah said. 

She further recommends that policymakers re-examine existing neighbourhoods to identify ways of improving active living, like increasing mixed-use planning. Another way to promote a city’s sustainability is to support initiatives like the creation of safe bike lanes.

In our increasingly sedentary lifestyles, designing environments that promote walkability is more important than ever. Cities all over the world stand to benefit from active living environments. Universities like McGill could be a source of inspiration, given its active living environment that includes opportunities for walking and cycling.

“Universities tend to be very active living friendly,” Mah said. “Not only do students have destinations that are walkable, densely connected population areas, [they] also have some great destinations to amenities, to groceries, to healthcare.”

Commentary, Opinion

Shop local to support Quebec businesses affected by COVID-19

In April 2020, the Quebec government introduced Le Panier Bleu, an online directory of Quebec retailers that supports local businesses impacted by the pandemic. The initiative maintains that if shoppers are presented with an accessible way to shop local, they may be more likely to opt for those options rather than purchasing from large retailers. While Panier Bleu’s mission is promising, the platform must be reworked to become more user-friendly, and students can help it reach its full potential. 

When the pandemic set in, businesses struggled to survive because of government imposed public health measures to curb the spread of COVID-19. As businesses were suddenly restricted to online sales, many local vendors without the resources to adapt to a web-based sales model suffered. Furthermore, many local stores only sell specific products. Even if the population has access to multiple shops from the comfort of their home, it is still far more practical to do all of one’s shopping at once. Consumers looking to buy a variety of products instinctively visit Amazon, which offers almost everything one could need on one site. 

The government sought to adopt Amazon’s model not only to help small businesses survive, but also to try and combat the retail giant’s monopoly on online shopping. However, Panier Bleu’s strategy has some glaring flaws. Although it is meant to support local shops, critics have expressed concerns over some of the vendors listed on the site, like IGA, which is part of a multinational chain that already has its own online platforms and clientele. By including IGA and other stores like it on Panier Bleu, attention is taken away from truly local vendors, detracting from the purpose of the initiative. If the government wants to better support local businesses, it should consider removing any already well-established chains from the website. To do so, it could implement a revenue threshold that business must be under in order to appear on the platform.

Beyond issues with the selection on Panier Bleu, users will find that it is not nearly as intuitive as its competitors. While it aims to become an alternative to Amazon in Quebec, Panier Bleu merely redirects shoppers wanting to buy a product to a store’s website. Users looking for different products still have to visit several sites. This urges shoppers to buy from large online retailers, as they can search for a variety of products in one place and easily make a single purchase. 

Despite its flaws, Panier Bleu’s shortcomings should not discourage potential customers from using it, including McGill students who are typically likely to shop on Amazon. While it may be less convenient, the benefit for small businesses can be massive. Further, increased use and feedback may push the government to improve the directory rather than eventually abandon it due to low traffic. To further support local businesses in the long term, when using Panier Bleu, students should also take note of which local stores sell the products they need to promote a shift to local shopping especially when it becomes easier to shop in person again. The process may take more time than shopping on Amazon, but if done en mass, these small actions support local shops that are in dire need of help. 

By shopping on Amazon, students are supporting a company that made a monstrous profit last year while letting down struggling businesses. Although Panier Bleu must be improved, it can be incredibly meaningful to local shop owners, which ultimately outweighs the mild inconvenience that may come with using it.

Art, Arts & Entertainment

Heartbreak Museum offers students a cathartic space to express hurt

For those who are single, have recently ended a relationship, or are simply not interested in romance, Valentine’s Day can often feel like a punch in the gut. With the additional isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic, this year’s solitude hits especially hard. 

Enter the Heartbreak Museum, an annual exhibition hosted by Mcsway Poetry Collective. The Heartbreak Museum provides a digital space for artists and poets to share their heartache—romantic, platonic, or otherwise—authentically. This year’s edition was held virtually through a website and Zoom open mic. 

Event organizer Zeina Jhaish, U3 Education, spoke with The McGill Tribune about the impetus for this event. 

“I joined Mcsway three years ago as a project lead,” Jhaish said. “I had to create a project for that year, and […] I remembered the [Museum of Broken Relationships and] seeing white empty rooms and objects that represented heartbreak. I really thought the idea was nice and I wanted to see it in the Mcsway context [.…] For me, the inspiration personally was [that] heartbreak is always relatable.” 

When viewers enter the website, they are greeted by a digital painting of a heart with a gash down the middle and stitches alongside to patch the wound. Immediately, the audience is drawn in by the painful beauty of a broken heart. 

Along with its virtual exhibition, the Heartbreak Museum hosted an open mic on Feb. 12 where poets shared their most intimate heartbreaks. These readings revealed that heartbreak is not limited to simply romantic relationships. Jhaish explained that the Heartbreak Museum is meant to be an inclusive space that discusses many different types of heartbreak. 

“We have a lot of heavy material and a lot of great sensitive, amazing poetry from our participants,” Jhaish said. “We always emphasize that heartbreak is not just about relationships and Valentines [….] So, our audience can also talk about family and friend-heartbreak and maybe even self-heartbreak.”  

The exhibition hosts a range of work, including sites where photographers documented their broken hearts and artifacts from past relationships, collages, and short films. In one set of images entitled “the sound of leaving,” the artist, Amanda, shows that moving from one place to another can also feel heartbreaking. 

Despite the fact that Zoom often feels like an impersonal platform to share art, the open mic offered a welcoming and supportive space for artists. As participants read their poetry, the chat box was flooded with loving and encouraging words. Poets shared experiences detailing the loss of friends and family, the pain of unrequited love, and the turmoil of toxic relationships. 

Jhaish discussed how moving the event online allowed Mcsway to expand its programming to include the open mic element. 

“We all love [the] Heartbreak Museum, so we thought we should find a creative way to bring it to life in COVID-19,” Jhaish said.“We decided to put it in the form of a website […] and then we also wanted to create a platform for people to perform their pieces [….] We wanted to add a little more pizazz to it and have an open mic where people could share and discuss and talk […] and use Zoom to our advantage.” 

Jhaish emphasized that the Heartbreak Museum offers students a sense of catharsis at a challenging time of year, which has been exacerbated by stay-at-home orders. 

“This year [heartbreak] hits differently because it’s COVID and all the frustration that comes with it,” Jhaish said. “It’s especially important to continue with this because we saw that a lot of people obviously want to share and […] and we believe in […] channelling our energies into expressing ourselves and having a platform to do that.” 

 

Album Reviews, Arts & Entertainment, Music

‘OK Human’ is sort of human, but definitely less than okay

Due to the indefinite nature of the pandemic, the subgenre of the “pandemic album” has become an increasingly large fixture. Although some, such as Taylor Swift’s folklore and Charli XCX’s how i’m feeling now, were massive critical and financial successes, Weezer’s latest album, OK Human, is not poised to join those ranks. While the album is clearly inspired by the classic Beach Boys album Pet Sounds, OK Human comes off as an odd imitation of Coldplay with quirky yet unremarkable lyrics and string orchestras in place of more brooding melodrama. 

Although the album deserves a certain amount of credit for sticking to a moody, dramatic aesthetic and producing a cohesive vision, this vision is ambivalent and mediocre. In what can be viewed as an unintentional homage to the band’s pop-punk roots, most of the songs sound almost exactly the same, and virtually none of them are memorable or good enough to propel the album to a higher quality. While “Screens” and “Here Comes the Rain” stand out amongst the sea of homogeneity and are more indicative of Weezer’s typical alternative rock sound, most of the songs on the album feel like a misplaced and half-hearted attempt to revisit a once-experimental, now dated style of production.

The high concentration of orchestral backing throughout the album is at its best in the final song, “La Brea Tar Pits,” where it takes on a more subdued version of the role that a guitar riff might have filled in earlier Weezer work. However, any power built up in the standout songs is fundamentally washed away by the bland repetitiveness of OK Human as a whole. While it may feel briefly representative of the moody blues of the pandemic, there is no quality or longevity beyond this pedestrian work. 

 

 

 

Commentary, content warning sa, Opinion

The problem with the pornography industry

*Content warning: This article includes mentions of sexual violence and discrimination.

A December 2020 New York Times article by Nicholas Kristof exposing Pornhub’s refusal to take down videos depicting rape and child abuse has sparked international outrage. Since then, credit card companies like MasterCard and Visa have cut ties with the Montreal-based site. Financial institutions are now part of the public debate of whether porn should be banned entirely by governments. The fact that 93 per cent of male and 62 per cent of female college students watch porn before turning 18 shows that pornography influences students’ sexual interactions. But beyond the popular prohibitionist feminist stance that porn is dangerous for women and the permissive stance that rejects moralist concerns, there is an often-overlooked point: The business model behind the industry. The problem with porn is how it makes money. Understanding how it works is important and can ultimately change harmful consumption habits. 

The purpose of porn is to entertain and arouse viewers. Although porn is available to everyone who has access to the internet, it caters to white, straight, cisgender men. From Hugh Heffner’s Playboy to many Pornhub videos, a lot of free and mainstream pornography objectifies women. Women are often at the centre, but we see them through the eyes of men. This does not mean that women, people of colour, or gender and sexual minorities cannot watch or enjoy porn. But the filming is done with a certain demographic in mind, tapping into harmful gender and racial stereotypes to please its audience.

Pornography, like any industry, prioritizes profits above all else. Its business model provides little to no incentives to regulate the content that users upload. It would not be profitable to get rid of something that people clearly enjoy. In this sense, Pornhub is the perfect blend of racism, patriarchy, and capitalism because it takes advantage of people’s biases to make a profit. Pornography platforms make money off leaked videos of 14-year-old girls, revenge porn, violent depictions of rape, and in a broader sense, racist and sexist content. One could argue that porn is subversive and that it defies moralist and prudish values that seek to villainize sex by representing hidden sexual desires that people cannot publicly claim. However, the racist and sexist mainstream porn industry challenges nothing; it upholds the oppressive systems on which it is built. 

Debates about the ethics of porn can often seem abstract and ideological, but it is important that they centre around the people they tangibly impact. The critique should not seek to criminalize and punish sex workers for making a living. Moreover, not all porn is created equal, and the rise of ethical porn provides an important alternative. Instead, criticism should be aimed at companies like Pornhub and their respective business models, which incentivize them to profit off of the violence and trauma of others.

Rather than debating whether porn should be banned, it is important to focus the discourse on the systems and the companies that facilitate and actively partake in harm. Discussions should not fall into the trap of individual responsibility that tends to distract from the true perpetrators. The danger of criticizing porn is punishing people for their sexual desires. But as Kristof states, criticizing the porn industry and being sex-positive should not be mutually exclusive. 

Awareness of the structural dynamics that enable porn should not become an excuse for mindless porn consumption. People can choose what type of pornography to watch, what stereotypes they buy into, and to stop consuming violence. Young people and students have the power to shape the way we understand sex, and resignation to injustice should not eclipse the power of dissent.

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