Blue Ireland?

Ireland has few enough indigenous enterprises but does the country really need its own porn industry, wonders Annajoy O’Gorman.

A new magazine was launched in Ireland this summer, Ireland’s only totally Irish-run pornography magazine, Blue Ireland. Edited by Wexford woman Ami O’Brien, the rather poorly produced magazine aims to bring the ‘the girl next door, (to) your store’.

In interviews O’Brien defends the publication, frequently asserting that Ireland had, in her words ‘grown up a lot’, and is ready for Blue Ireland. But with Playboy on the Republic’s shelves since 1996 along with countless UK and other US titles readily available in newsagents, was there really a need for another publication like this?

Pornography is a tricky issue. O’Brien has claimed in all her interviews that the models featured in the magazine are there by choice and enjoy what they do. In an interview

on TV3’s morning show, O’Brien appeared with one of the women who had taken part in the first issue. The woman in question claimed that her particular body type and look would not be considered for other types of magazines, as she had several tattoos and piercings.  She seemed totally comfortable with the photographs and said that she had really enjoyed the experience.

As a fully signed-up feminist, I am conflicted on the issue of pornography. Blue Ireland is to all appearances a sound venture, the models taking part have said they enjoyed the experience, and it would be hard to complain about a magazine that seeks to give a voice to an apparently thriving sub-culture. But does pornography have a negative effect on women? I have wrestled with this question several times.

It is easy to simply say that there is good porn and bad porn. Good porn is like that of Blue Ireland, willingly created by people with, it appears, a healthy attitude to sex and what turns them on, for the pleasure of others. Bad porn is where women (mostly) are coerced into

doing something they don’t want to and are debased and abused for the sadistic pleasure of others. The majority of unregulated porn on the internet, it is important to remember, is made with women who are not even free; they are commonly bought and sold by the makers of these films.

Today pornography is infinitely available. The internet has provided a free point of access to unlimited amounts of the stuff. The pornography industry generates massive profits each year. In 2003 the sex industry, including adult films, magazines and websites grossed an estimated $34 Billion worldwide and in excess of $8 Billion in the USA alone.

These are huge figures and one can only assume they have increased since this study was released. But the regulated industry has seen a recent decline due to piracy and the simple difficulty in trying to compete with the amateur porn business, which has found its natural home on the web.

As someone who has grown up in the age where internet access was a given rather the exception, I can’t really imagine a reality where people don’t see sex for the first time on the internet. Countless studies have been carried out on my generation to try to figure out what exposure to pornography has done to our minds and whether it has had lasting effects. I argue that it does, and that it is women who suffer as a result.

The fact is that pornography is overwhelmingly made for male consumption; the women who take part do so in such a way that almost universally courts the male gaze, and the masculine ideal of sexuality. And Blue Ireland is no exception, despite O’Brien’s claims to the contrary. Its first issue featured a woman on the cover in clichéd school-girl garb – I don’t think I am out of line in suggesting that most women are not turned on by school girls.

The success of this magazine is yet to be seen; the second issue is on shelves at the moment. The debate over the problematic nature of such publications is not over yet and hopefully will continue to be hammered out in public for as long as necessary.