Sexual Morality, Music and Censorship

Recently while skimming through discussion threads on the Richard Dawkins forum, I was attracted to a thread discussing uproar by some members over the number of sexually themed discussion threads, with several members very upset over the number and the type of topics being discussed. The topics ranged from serious non religious based ethical queries into such topics as how one should view homosexuality or how one should define pedophilia, to more superfluous topics such as how long the perfect sexual encounter should take.

As I began reading through the different posts, which varied from disgust over the titles and content to disgust that the content exists on the forum at all, I noticed that member suggestions varied from some thinking the titles should just be ignored, to other members suggesting sexual topics should be coded or hidden to indicate “adult topic,” while other members called any action censorship. Some members were concerned about the fact that younger forum members might be too impressionable for such sexual content, or that such content might give outsiders the wrong image of atheists in general. As I read along, I was at first both gratified and amused over the wide range of differing opinions proffered by my free thinking atheist and agnostic correspondents, but then I began to feel a nostalgic tug. I wasn’t able to identify the source of my nostalgia right away, but then Tipper Gore came to mind, and I was mentally transported back to early 1990s.

In the early 1990s I was the mother of two young children who, as children are fond of doing, liked to spend their after school and weekends hours playing in a neighborhood park where lots of other kids liked to play. I would sit on a bench near other parents, and we would watch the kids play while a specific group of mothers, who I nicknamed the “mommy brigade” would talk. I usually tried not to listen too carefully to what I generally considered insipid talk of diaper brands and husband trouble; I could not help, however, but be drawn into a conversation one particular day about adult content on television. The “mommy brigade” had started a letter writing campaign to get some television show taken off the air because it had depicted two men kissing. They were all aflutter about how awful it was that this show was on during “prime time” viewing hours and how it was going to corrupt the morals and values of their children. I listened to them go on for awhile but then couldn’t help to interject with a simple question, “Why,” I asked, “didn’t they just change the channel?” After a minute of incredulous silence I was informed that someone had to watch and monitor the filth on TV so that it could be detected and acted upon. It was futile, I knew, to point out that two men kissing was not what I considered filth, and could be a good opportunity to teach the value of tolerance, so I asked instead “Why not just, you know, ignore it?”

“You don’t understand,” I was told, “it’s not just our children, but all children we have to protect, even those whose parents don’t have the good judgment to shield them from such immorality.”

I remember that conversation so well, because Tipper Gore was a mother much like those in the “mommy brigade” who thought it was her job to protect the children of America from smut, too. In 1985, Tipper Gore’s 11 year old daughter, who apparently had much better taste in music than her mother, bought a Prince album, and the history of music censorship in America changed forever. It suddenly became the government’s business to tell American parents what music our children could safely listen to by putting warning labels on music, including much of the music people in my generation grew up listening to. In an interesting development, it seemed those in charge of music censorship were especially punitive with rap music, which I, and many others considered an expression of racism. Thanks to Tipper Gore, today you can buy music from Wal-Mart or Target with all the offensive words removed, and can feel safe that your children are not listening to music with sexually offensive language. (If they have internet access, however, they can find the uncensored versions quite easily, unless they live in, say, China.)

Censorship in America extends further than our music CDs, but also infects our news and TV networks as well. That is why there can be a huge anti-war protest in New York but have it be reported as a small media affair in California. I happen to be living, temporarily in an area where the local CBS affiliate has chosen to protect the people of this area from degradation by taking the show Swingtown off the air. The show is based on several couples in the godless era of the 1970s that are into wife swapping, recreational drug and group sex activities. It has received great reviews, and was great fun to watch, but the moralistic people of central Wisconsin cannot, apparently, be subjected to such evil.

Meanwhile sexual realities in this country are stunning. One in four children in the US has an STD, teenage pregnancy is on the rise, and studies have shown that oral and anal sex among female children who consider themselves “virgins” is off the charts. Meanwhile we hear every day about some previously pious politician or religious leader being ousted as Gay, or as being a customer of prostitution. Perhaps if we spent less time focused on the morality proscribed or shaped by religious dogma, we could spend less time trying to censor what these kids see and hear, and offer them an opportunity to learn about human sexuality in a realistic manner. Maybe, without censorship, we could have a realistic dialogue about the myriad nature of human sexuality in all its glorious, humorous and pitiful forms, withholding judgment and offering instead, compassion, instruction, and most of all, understanding.