Last month, I did something that’s become a routine weekly practice for me as an adult entertainer: I swabbed my throat for sexually transmitted infections. For the first time, my tests came back positive for chlamydia. But thanks to my screening, I could cancel my upcoming porn shoots before I infected a scene partner. I could protect my colleagues because I voluntarily undergo the most in-depth testing before filming.
Once upon a time, adult actors mostly filmed for production companies, which demanded STI tests for liability reasons. Performers would go to one of two medical companies, where we underwent routine testing, and then a medical professional entered those results into a secure system called PASS, which would alert studios if we were cleared to perform. It was a smooth procedure, and one that undoubtedly prevented major STI outbreaks.
But the studio porn world is no longer the only place we perform. We are in a transition phase; one as transformative as when sound came to the silent cinema in Singin’ in the Rain. Today, performers create their own videos, which they sell directly to consumers. In the old days, we received no residuals from sales; today, we collect every dollar because we own our content. We decide how and when we film, we determine our own prices, and we battle less piracy since PornHub now only allows verified users (i.e. adult stars and porn companies) to upload videos to its platform.
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In many ways, porn has changed for the better, at least in the eyes of the performers. But as with any evolution, there are growing pains—and one of the most significant changes is that at-home adult content creators don’t always choose to undergo mandatory testing. In the past few weeks, I’ve heard of multiple other performers testing positive for STIs. At the recent AVN Awards, performers gossiped quietly about the issue, but most people have been scared to address it aloud, fearful of public outrage.
To this, I can only say: Silence is the worst strategy. If we remain still, the problem will worsen, the gossip will reach Evangelical Christians, and they will wield our health as a weapon in their ongoing crusade against porn. The porn industry needs to come together and fix the problem for performers’ health and for Porn Valley’s future.
To address the problem, of course, we have to analyze why it exists in the first place. The old-school testing system required porn production companies to join it, but today, such a requirement doesn’t exist, as many OnlyFans performers operate without even an LLC, let alone an S-Corp. (Most performers only learn the value of incorporating after the IRS comes for their head.) Many creators are business owners for the very first time; they’re learning how to operate a business as they go along, and, for the most part, they’re still in the early ages of their companies. The giants of the 20th century, on the other hand, existed for years before we perfected our testing system.
The methods of STI testing matter, too. Even if performers and their S-Corps are testing, they may not be performing swab tests; even in the early days of studio porn, most companies relied instead on urine or blood tests. But according to the American College of Emergency Physicians, swabs offer better guidance than urine tests when identifying sexually transmitted bacterial infections like gonorrhea and chlamydia.
So how can we fix this? In the immediate, performers need to get a variety of tests for each STI before porn shoots. In the long term, content creators need to join our lobbying group, the Free Speech Coalition, and discuss how we can apply the testing methods of the old studio system to the evolving porn industry of today. The stakes are too high to avoid playing it safe. For one, STIs spread quickly. If one performer gets sick, they could transmit it to another performer, who could transmit it to another. Health must be the top priority of any workplace, including the workplaces of the self-employed.
It’s pivotal that we make it clear we’re above code and taking our health and safety seriously, but young performers may not understand the deeper implications. Porn veterans know Evangelical Christians are waging a new war on porn. Still, I’ve encountered many young OnlyFans stars unaware that groups like Exodus Cry are pushing talking points that the porn industry is a child abuse racket. Just last month, conservative Canadian journalist Meghan Murphy tweeted a conspiracy that legal adult porn fuels pedophilia. Murphy may seem just slightly less fringe than Exodus Cry, but a staff writer at The Atlantic, Conor Friedersdorf, replied to her tweet. After Murphy tweeted him a link to Exodus Cry’s documentary Barely Legal, which claims most adult porn shows simulated fantasies of sex with minors, Friedersdorf responded, “Will bookmark and watch soon, thanks for the pointer.”
He may not have known he was agreeing to watch Christian propaganda. (Exodus Cry doesn’t mention its name on the YouTube page.) After all, Exodus Cry is brilliant at laundering their ideas into the mainstream, and they’re even more brilliant about pretending they’re “rescuing” porn stars. With those threats looming large, performers must take care of the STI problem before it’s leveraged against us. And if we don’t discuss the issue publicly and create solutions, our detractors will make so-called solutions for us—which could lead to the abolition of our industry entirely.
