On the one hand, I appreciate the transparency of the whole affair. The industry is governed by rules that it must follow to ensure the health and safety of those in it. People have had sex recreationally since the beginning of time, and prostitution, they say, is one of the oldest professions on earth.
The legalization of prostitution de-stigmatizes the industry and creates a free market in which a person can purchase the service of sex if they have the means to do so. But then⦠Liebling and I take a stroll through the Red Light District on a Saturday night and the harsh reality of it makes me feel slightly uneasy. The streets cut by canals are narrow, teeming with people mostly men , brightened by neon signs selling sex. The rows of windows are filled with women awaiting their next customer.
All different shapes and sizes, the only thing that seemingly unify them is the revealing clothing they wear. One stares blankly out to the street, unflinching as a man with a large blow-up penis tied to his middle thrusts it noncommittally in her direction, his group of six or so friends egging him on.
What do they think? What do they feel? I want to ask the choosers what motivates them is to sell their sex, an act so taboo in most places in the world? We spend fifteen minutes walking the main strip and then leave. I come across supposed real accounts from men who have dabbled. I learn that as the sex industry in the Netherlands has increased in revenue, so has the amount of human trafficking into the country.
Organized crime rings smuggle women into the country illegally and then force them to join the sex trade. Yes, I know, I understand that some have willfully chosen this profession and more power to them. Still, it is sad to know that for others there was no choice, so with a mouse click I shut the browser and move on to something more uplifting.
