Stigma

Sociologists tend to take it for granted that BDSM is an unorthodox and stigmatized sexual category (Reiersøl and Skeid 2006, etc.) Haidt, Koller, and Dias (1993) have found that, in general, people tend to view sexual deviance as “worse” than other forms of deviance. Janus and Janus (1994) conclude that 75% of men and 78% of women in America either consider BDSM to be highly deviant, or else have never heard of it.

But the degree to which BDSM is stigmatized or tolerated by the wider culture is itself the subject of considerable controversy. In part this seems to be a legacy of the civil rights and queer liberation movements: insofar as kink might be an identity category subject to persecution, it becomes culturally and perhaps legally more sympathetic.

Allegations for and against stigmatization

Prior to the 1980s, there are very few examples of any public appeal for tolerance being made by (or on behalf of) kinky people. I am only aware of three. The Kinsey Institute supported tolerance for a wide range of sexual minorities as early as 1948; Weinberg (2006), credits Kinsey's colleague Gebhardt with being one of the first scholars to deal with BDSM as a sociological question (Gebhardt 1976 [1969]). The vast bulk of the Kinsey Institute's appeal for tolerance, however, was focused on masturbation, pre-marital sex, and homosexuality.

Two books in this era focused sympathetically on kink—Ullerstam (1966) and the Greenes (1974). These were both ridiculed in the Journal of Sex Research; in each case the reviewer decided to treat the plea for tolerance as a satire (Beigel 1966; Sagarin 1976). Meanwhile, virtually all contemporary accounts of kink treated it as a highly dangerous pathology, often interspersing discussions of kink with larger discussions of violence, barbarity, homicide, and the like (Ellis 1905, Stekel 1929; see Clifton 1982 for a similar treatment).

But the absence of voices supporting kink in this era can be understood in various ways. Perhaps kinky people kept silent because it was so deeply taboo: a sexual minority within a sexual minority, as Lee (1979) describes it. Perhaps BDSM was in no way stigmatized, being the ultimate expression of normative, patriarchal power relationships (Wagner 1982; Dworkin 1987). Perhaps BDSM was censored by the patriarchal establishment precisely because it was too extreme a version of heterosexual power relations; too obvious an injustice (Atkinson, 1982). Again, it is possible that BDSM was imagined as a largely homosexual phenomenon, and the stigma associated with it was subsumed in the stigma associated with homophobia (c.f. Brownmiller 1990 [1975] pp. 290-293).

BDSM has been a subject of passionate debate as within queer liberation, and especially within the feminist movement. Ridinger (2006) notes that the homophile movement of the 1950s-1960s (a precursor to later queer liberation movements), rejected leathermen as damaging to the image of homosexuality that they were trying to foster. Gay advocates did not assist in the People vs. Samuels case in 1967, presumably because of the BDSM elements in the case.

In this context, in 1971, the National Organization of Women specifically excluded SM-identified women from their statement of support. This position was reiterated and challenged many times, with a great deal of ink spilled on both sides, until the language was finally dropped twenty-five years later (Wright 2006, Hart 1998).

Policies aimed at supressing BDSM expression at the Michigan Womyn's festival were enacted in the 1970s(?).  In 1980, three events focused criticism on BDSM: a reiterated of the NOW resolution, the portrayal of gay leathermen in the film Cruisings, and the CBS documentary Gay Power, Gay Politics, which suggested that BDSM was responsible for large numbers of deaths (Hart 1998).

In this climate, Samois published a booklet aimed at kinky lesbians: What Color is your Handkerchief? This pamphlet argued that kinky lesbians were a legitimate sexual minority who faced stigma from other lesbians, and from the wider culture. In response, Linden compiled the anthology Against Sadomasochism (1982), and the general themes of those articles—even specific examples—are repeated in later radical feminist writing. Most of the authors in Against Sadomasochism explicitly reject the notion that BDSM is stigmatized. Not all, though: Hoagland (1982), for instance, agrees that BDSM is a “persecuted fringe.” But the general position is that BDSM is congruent with patriarchal sexual oppression, and kinky people have no legitimate complaints: they are complaining about public attitudes, or “not being allowed in the parade.” In particular, the authors reject any sense of equivalency between BDSM as a stigmatized sexuality and lesbianism as a stigmatized sexuality. The claims of stigma attached to BDSM are likened to “fabricated oppression” (Norris 1982) and “disruptive” to the project of lesbian liberation and solidarity (Sims, Mason, and Pagano 1982). Within this cultural moment, there were also claims that pro-BDSM feminists were marginalizing anti-BDSM feminists, and vice versa (e.g. Dejanikus 1982).

Problematically, however, this very active debate over the degree of stigma attached to kink occurred in a fairly esoteric, separatist, and indeed stigmatized corner of American political and culture life. The hyperbolic cultural criticism of both What Color is Your Handkerchief? and Against Sadmasochism positions them very far from the mainstream. For instance, in attacking kink, Lourde and Star (1982) suggest that white gay men are largely working in league with the establishment, defending the status quo (this under Reagan). Whatever the merits of such claims, they complicate the outside reader's understanding of what radical feminist lesbians might mean by “stigma.”

Conservative critics, on the other hand, have tended to denigrate kinky people in the same terms as they denigrate gays and lesbians, and often seem to view kink as an extended perversion of homosexuality. Prominent recent examples of this have occurred around Jack McGeorge, the UN Weapons Inspector criticized by the Washington Post for being kinky (Wright 2006); Ann Coulter and John Gibson attacking a BDSM student organization at Columbia (Fox News 2006); Micheal Savage's comparison of the Folsom Fair BDSM event to Nazi Germany (Media Matters 2008); and so forth. It seems noteworthy that these critics not only seek to stigmatize kinky people, but also presume that they already are stigmatized. Coulter, for instance, alleges that kinky students are self-evidently “the biggest losers on campus.”

Evidence for Stigmatization

Aside from the mainly discursive claims above, the most frequently cited evidence for stigmatization of kink is its dubious legal status@. There are numerous instances of clearly consensual BDSM becoming the subject of criminal investigation and often prosecution. Kinky people are also severely disadvantaged in child custody@ cases. And kinky people entering therapy@ not infrequently encounter bias against their sexuality (Kolmes, Stock, and Moser 2006).

In a 1993 survey, 25% of kinky lesbians said they had experienced violence and 30% ostracism from other lesbians, as a result of their kink (Keres 1994) Plante (2006) describes how people involved in a spanking subculture denigrate BDSM as being really kinky, and distance themselves from it. Under pressure from conservative groups, hotel chains such as Cedant have boycotted BDSM conferences throughout the Midwest. Pressure from local police shut down such conferences in Ocean City, Maryland, and in suburban New Orleans. In Missouri, a bill was introduced by Republican Senator John Loudon to ban such conferences, though the bill was dropped (Wright 2006).

BDSM imagery and text is another possible field for stigmatization. Anti-pornography activism and law has often focused especially on sadomasochistic pornography; laws such as the UK's “Extreme Pornography” act single out BDSM pornography for special restrictions. Hoagland (1982) suggests that there was considerable editorial refusal to print BDSM content in lesbian publications. Weiss (2006) discusses some of the proliferation of BDSM images in popular media, and argues that these present a stereotypical view of kink as a pathology, in which kinky people can become redeemed only insofar as they approach normal sexuality.  In the US, bills have been proposed (though not enacted) to ban NEA funding of artwork containing BDSM themes (Hart 1998).

Brame's (2000) survey of almost seven thousand kinky people found considerable evidence for subjective experience of stigma. She asked a series of questions using a forced-decision four-part likert scale. Here I am looking only at the strongest response category: “yes, definitely.” 23% of Brame's survey population have felt guilty or ashamed about their sexual desires; 20% have tried to give them up in order “to be more normal;” 13% feel that their kink has hurt their ability to be in a long-term loving relationship; 10% have had conflicts with their family over their kink; 10% feel a definite conflict between their religion and their kink; 7% have sought therapy specifically to cope with their kink, 4% have considered suicide; 3% feel that their kink has negatively impacted their employment. Finally, only 13% of her population see themselves as fully out of the closet; 14% are not out to anyone, including lovers or close friends.  Bienvenu and Jacques (1999) find that over 70% of kinky people feel their religion would "never" approve of them sexually, and 68% feel that their parents would never approve.

Updated 6/14/2010