Seems its a tempest in a teapot. The public eye is turned on the business of sex, doesn't mean it an epidemic, just good marketing from the networks to pull viewers. Heck, the balanced portrayal below published by one of Canada's prestigious papers could also be taken as a sign of societal maturity, while the Canadian legal system hangs back in antiquity.
Doc shocks with startling Canadian facts
On the Globeand mail March 27, 2009
Like everyone else, we are feeling the pain of living in an economic dustbowl. Canadians are buying fewer big-ticket items such as cars and big-screen TVs, and pinching pennies on essentials such as groceries. In fact, the only recession-proof businesses appear to be drive-through coffee shops and prostitution. Somehow Canadians can always find money for donuts - and sex.
But is paying for sex breaking the law? The Business of Sex (tonight at 10, CTV) provides a primer on the current state of the sex trade in this country. Written and directed by veteran journalist Robert Duncan, the new documentary will likely shock some viewers, though not with scenes of gratuitous nudity or graphic sex talk - there's neither. Instead, The Business of Sex shocks with startling but true Canadian facts.
Did you know, for example, that prostitution is not actually against the law in Canada?
As explained patiently in the film by attorney Clayton Ruby, Canadian bawdy house laws prohibit prostitutes from having a regular place to conduct business, among other astounding vagaries; the act of money exchanging hands for making whoopee is not illegal.
Our government does not condone prostitution, though it does acknowledge its existence: the film points out that sex-trade workers have their own category on the Canadian tax form.
"Isn't that amazing?" says Duncan, who previously took the Canadian health-care system to task in the documentary Medicare Schmedicare. "That might be one of the most staggering pieces of information in the entire program. On one hand the government is castigating the sex business, on the other hand sex workers are getting a tax number. It's pretty remarkable."
A fast flip through the back pages of some free newspapers is evidence the sex trade is booming here. The Business of Sex focuses on the biggest markets in B.C. and Ontario, which combined provide gainful employment for an estimated 20,000 sex workers, almost all women.
Less than 15 per cent are street hookers, which leaves the rest to work the safer, and more lucrative, field of private escorting. The escorts interviewed in the film instantly dispel any pre-existing notion of the trashy streetwalker.
"There are no stereotypes in the sex business today," Duncan says. "We expected to meet these bimbos with serious psychological issues, but the women we talked to were very reasonable. Just nice, intelligent women, getting through life their own way."
Women like Ironica Lamour (not her real name), who works as a private escort in Vancouver: The very normal-looking Lamour has been in the sex game five years and seems to enjoy it. Like most escorts today, she books the majority of her clients through her website. "The Internet is the new version of the pimp," says Duncan.
In a reenactment, Lamour details the accepted transaction ritual that takes place between escort and clients; the money is discreetly left in an envelope and then counted in the bathroom. A little chit-chat, and on with the deed.
The Web has also boosted the client list for Belle, who works as a private escort in the Niagara region (the single mother of four wears a gaudy mask to shield her face in the interview).
Belle charges $180 an hour and estimates she pulls in $180,000 a year turning tricks. Last year, mom's part-time job took the family to Disney World for 10 days.
Belle says she went into the business as a personal experiment, and specializes in middle-aged and elderly men. "Belle was quite emotional about what she does for a living," says Duncan. "She really believes she's providing an important service."
The program interviews one of Belle's regular customers, called Simon (not his real name). Simon also wears a mask, and alters his voice, very likely because he's an ordained minister. Known in the trade as a hobbyist, Simon is also married and estimates he spends around $10,000 a year on sex. And if the missus found out? "She would lynch me," he says.
For a different perspective on all this, the film visits Germany, where brothels are legal and apparently pull in more than 40 billion Euros each year. The cameras go inside Berlin's infamous Artemis brothel, a newly built sex palace where men pay 70 Euros to enter and walk around in bathrobes, then work out private deals with prostitutes. Mondays and Tuesdays are half-price days for cabbies and seniors.
A tacky business, to be sure, but prostitution presumably fills some sort of public need, and are casinos any classier? The film goes into the ongoing efforts of Canadian sex workers to establish legal brothels in this country. The arguments remain the same: Government-run brothels would provide a cleaner, safer environment for sex workers, and nobody would be standing under streetlights.
The film's most spirited pro-brothel proponent is Toronto lawyer and law professor Alan Young, who is mounting a challenge to the law prohibiting legal brothels. Young decries the current law as arbitrary, and says it does more harm to society than good.
"He makes a very good argument," says Duncan, whose production offices are situated in the middle of downtown Vancouver's notorious Eastside, where street hookers roam day and night.
"In making the film I've become a supporter of legalized brothels, just on the basis of safety. I wouldn't want any of my daughters to become hookers, but if they did, I'd want them to be safe."