Amanda McGrail: So now we all pay for sexual right

COMMENT

Learning that my taxes are being courted to fund the training of prostitutes to service disabled users made my blood boil. Support for taxpayer dollars to help prostitutes to provide a better and more specialised service than they offer has come from the New Zealand Prostitutes Collective, Labour MP Georgina Beyer, Claire Ryan of IHC, and now a Massey University lecturer.

At the risk of sounding unsympathetic, I hope they don't get a cent and here's why.

If the state agrees to subsidise, and thus promote, the trade of sexual services for disabled people, on what grounds can it refuse to do this for others simply wanting sexual gratification?

Why should they discriminate in favour of the disabled only?

If that guy who tried to pick me up at the pub the other week is perpetually unsuccessful in his attempts to secure the fleeting affections of women, what would prevent him appealing to the Government for help?

If sex is viewed as a human right needing state support, he could legitimately claim he belongs to an oppressed minority as an unattractive, desperate male.

What about the lonely pensioner who can't find a companion, or can't afford Viagra? Should the state subsidise the fulfilment of his sexual appetites, too?

Will a community services card soon provide a discount on sexual services? It might sound ridiculous, but it's a logical extension of the false belief that sex is a human right needing state support.

Sex is not a human right. Its necessity for our continued survival endows it with the ultimate responsibility - the potential to create life. But as Mother Theresa would have attested, unbridled sexual expression has never been the key to realising our potential as human beings.

I know many people whose circumstances don't facilitate regular sexual intercourse, and they are still living fulfilled lives.

The philosophy driving the prostitutes collective and others in their quest for funding is that people are entitled to better sex than they might be getting, and if necessary, the Government's ubiquitous chequebook should intervene.

Disabled people can, however, like everyone else, legally access the services of a prostitute. Why should our taxes pay for prostitutes to receive training for the provision of specialist sexual services?

This issue raises questions about the power of law, the role of the state, the nature of prostitution and the reality of relationships. This latest effort by the prostitutes collective confuses these on all accounts in a misguided attempt to somehow promote its version of compassion.

The not-so-hidden agenda behind the Prostitution Reform Act passed in June was to destigmatise prostitution to make it more acceptable. Why? Because law has the power to shape our view of what's right.

Claire Ryan of the IHC was reported as saying that reform had meant a lot of disabled clients felt better about what they were doing. How interesting that the people suddenly feel justified in their behaviour because 60 MPs decided to pass a law.

But unlike many MPs, the promoters of the act were under no illusion as to the real intention of the law - to make the sale and purchase of sex as normal as possible. And that dream is coming true, ironically to the denigration of women caught in prostitution, not to mention disabled people.

But even if a case can be made for trying to help to upskill prostitutes to cater to the special needs of disabled clients, there can be no justification whatsoever for taxpayer funds providing the subsidy. If marijuana is legalised, will tax dollars be used to build wheelchair access to tinny houses?

Despite its decriminalisation, prostitution is not a public good. It is abuse. And to suggest that the state should subsidise its supply, and therefore encourage such social dysfunction, is sheer lunacy.

If the Government does choose to give money, it should fund groups helping women out of prostitution. Vocational training should instead be offered for jobs that reflect their real worth and will build a meaningful future.

And, like me, what the disabled really want is unconditional love and genuine connections.

Intimacy is not a commodity for sale, and true concern acknowledges this.

A compassionate civil society is one in which groups such as IHC, which care about the welfare and very real needs of the handicapped, will encourage truly satisfying relationships rather than seek state support to promote a counterfeit. They deserve better.

* Amanda McGrail is communications co-ordinator for the Maxim Institute, a social research organisation.