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Inequality regimes in sexual labor

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Inequality regimes in sexual labor

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Content 1

Inequality Regimes in Sexual Labor
Nathaniel B. Burke
Department of Sociology
Doctor of Philosophy (Sociology)
University of Southern California
Faculty of The USC Graduate School
May 2018

2
Abstract
My dissertation is a multi-method study of the labor experiences of men of color in
precarious labor, using the adult film industry as a case study. Incorporating ethnographic,
interview, and survey methods, my project investigates how employment is stratified in one of the
largest yet least-studied global industries. In the first substantive chapter, I utilize two years of
ethnographic data in the hiring and casting offices of an adult film studio to demonstrate how a
local form of hegemonic masculinity is produced, how this form is racialized and embodied, and
how performers are held accountable to this local form. I theorize the relationship between this
local form and regional forms of hegemonic masculinity, and outline the broader implications for
the continued cultural subjugation of marginalized men, including labor and workplace
implications. I further expand upon the cultural and labor implications of workplace inequality in
the following chapter which uses survey data to demonstrate men of color’s lower rates of pay,
fewer job offers, and lower rates of employment satisfaction. Drawing upon theories of intimate
labor, I discuss how these conditions may perpetuate inequalities through the circulation and
consumption of the commodities generated through these men’s labor. I explore this theme in the
final substantive chapter, in which I use content analysis to interrogate the relationship between
gay adult film products and broader patterns of gender and racial inequalities. By connecting the
local form of hegemonic masculinity evidenced in my ethnographic data with the cultural products
produced more broadly by the industry, I demonstrate how each is influenced by each other. The
regional forms of hegemonic masculinity within cultural products become material from which
individuals and groups draw in constructing local forms of hegemonic masculinity. Further, by
connecting theories of hegemonic masculinity with theories of precarious labor, I demonstrate the
reciprocal relationship between local and regional forms and how each participates in the
maintenance of existing hierarchies of racial, gender, and sexual inequality in different yet
complimentary ways.

3
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - Introduction .............................................................................................................. 4
Chapter 2 - History of Gay Adult Film ...................................................................................... 11
Chapter 3 – Hegemonic Masculinity at Work in the Gay Adult Film Industry ........................... 32
Chapter 4 - Intimate Commodities: Intimate Labor and the Production and Circulation of
Inequality ................................................................................................................................. 55
Chapter 5 - Straight-Acting: Gay Pornography, Heterosexuality, and Hegemonic Masculinity .. 81
Chapter 6 – Conclusion........................................................................................................... 107
References .............................................................................................................................. 119
Notes ...................................................................................................................................... 137

4
Chapter 1 - Introduction
My dissertation is a multi-method study of the gay adult film industry, focusing upon
gendered and racialized labor conditions, and their implications for both the performers in the
industry, as well as the circulation of the products produced through that labor. Incorporating
ethnographic, interview, and survey methods, my project investigates how employment is
stratified in one of the largest yet least-studied global industries. In the second chapter, I provide
a historical summary of gay identity and gay adult film from the early 1900s through present to
contextualize the state of the industry contemporarily. In the third chapter, I utilize two years of
ethnographic data in the hiring and casting offices of an adult film studio to demonstrate how a
local form of hegemonic masculinity is produced, how this form is racialized and embodied, and
how performers are held accountable to this local form. I theorize the relationship between this
local form and regional forms of hegemonic masculinity, and outline the broader implications for
the continued cultural subjugation of marginalized men, including labor and workplace
implications. I further expand upon the cultural and labor implications of workplace inequality
through the fourth chapter, which uses survey data to explore the racialized stratification of pay
rates, job offers, and employment satisfaction for men in adult film. Drawing upon theories of
intimate labor, I discuss how these conditions may perpetuate inequalities through the circulation
and consumption of the commodities generated through these men’s labor. I explore this theme in
greater detail in the fifth chapter in which I use content analysis to interrogate the relationship
between gay adult film products and broader patterns of gender, racial, and sexuality based
inequalities.

5
Pornography as a Field of Labor
The adult industry not only reaches mass amounts of consumers, but employs countless
people whose labor is insufficiently understood due to the “precarious” nature of sexual labor,
i.e. its non-unionized and non-protected status (Kalleberg 2009). The tenuous nature of this labor
continues even as governmental bodies impose regulations such as Measure B
1
upon the
industry. Performers’ experiences in the industry are embroiled within insufficiently examined
organizational structures that may stratify labor along lines of race, class, gender, and sexuality
(Parreñas 2011; Weitzer 2009). Incorporating sociological analyses of labor into the study of sex
work requires that we first understand sex work as work (see, for example: Bernstein 2007a;
Chapkis 2013; Nussbaum 1998; Zelizer 2000). To understand it as such offers tremendous
insight into both sexual and non-sexual labor as it allows us to understand the patterns in society
that pull people into sex work and stratify the industry. Thus, I employ well-established methods
and theories from the sociology of work to study the hierarchies, wage discrimination, hiring
practices, and labor experiences of individuals in sex work, all of which require further
exploration (Weitzer 2009). How, for example does racial discrimination appear in sexual labor,
how do performers of color navigate these challenges, and how is masculinity constructed in
male/male sexual commercial enterprises? (Brooks 2010a, 2010b; Chapkis 2013; Logan 2010;
Miller-Young 2010).

1
Measure B is a citizens' initiative requiring producers of adult films to obtain a public health
permit from the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health in order to engage in the
production of adult films for commercial purposes, and to pay a permit fee set by the Department
to offset the cost of enforcement. The measure would require the use of condoms for all acts of
anal or vaginal sex during the production of adult films, as well as the posting of both the public
health permit and a notice to performers regarding condom use.
http://www.smartvoter.org/2012/11/06/ca/la/meas/B/
6
As masculinities scholars have argued, the male body is understood as a site of power,
naturalizing men’s dominant position (Bridges 2009; Connell 1987, 2005; Messner 2007). These
scholars argue that a masculine self is enacted by evoking fear in others, which they argue is
especially significant for marginalized boys as it is a means to attain power. This ability to evoke
fear in others is connected both with the body (along with elements of race and class), the kinds
of feared physical or symbolic violence which can be enacted through that body, and the
recipient of the violence. Thus, enactment of masculinity is intertwined with access to the bodies
of others, ranging from symbolic violence that directs the body (as in the examples above) to
street and sexual harassment of women, rape and physical assault. These positions were often
adopted by many anti-porn and anti-censorship positions within feminist debates on
pornography, yet largely ignored the on-the-ground experience of sex workers, their meaning-
making, strategies, and subjectivity. I elaborate upon the feminist debates over pornography as a
form of symbolic violence and its connections with masculinity in more detail in Chapter 3.
The understudied racialized and gendered dynamics of labor in adult film offers a great
deal of both empirical and theoretical value to studies of race, gender, labor, sexuality, and
masculinity. Studying the adult film industry as a field of labor reveals the underlying workplace
regimes that draw upon and may perpetuate gender and racial inequalities, the subsequent
challenges that men experience in the broader workforce, and their implications for the
circulation of the products generated within these labor conditions.

Race, Workplace Inequality, and Sexuality
The structural factors of broader (i.e. non-sexual) workplace inequality can be
demonstrated through audit studies of men’s hirability in the workplace. Studies have
7
demonstrated white men’s greater rates of hirability than Black men (Pager, Western, and
Bonikowski 2009) and have argued this is as a result of the fear of violence and criminality
associated with Black men. Sexuality, however, interconnects with the perception of masculinity;
stereotypes of effeminacy in gay men may mitigate the stereotype of aggressiveness in Black
men (Pedulla 2014) to the point where they are more “hirable” than their white counterparts
(Tilcsik 2012). Asian men, by contrast, often benefit from the “model minority myth” (Brown et
al. 2003) in assessment of competence, though still face racial stereotyping that limits their
occupational advancement (Chen 1999). Due to the rhetoric of color-blindness, any occupational
differentials are attributed to individual failings rather than structural inequalities (Bonilla-Silva
1962). By placing Connell’s theory of hegemonic masculinity in conversation with Acker’s
“inequality regimes,” to explore men’s labor force experience, we can attend to the dynamics of
racial, class, and sexual inequalities, and their interconnections
2
. Men sex workers, for example,
have a great deal to gain by advertising qualities associated with hegemonic masculinity. Logan
(2010) finds that men who advertise masculine attributes are able to charge significantly more
than those with less masculine attributes (at a differential of approximately seventeen percent).
The racialized nature of masculinity again emerges and complicates these dynamics – Black,
Hispanic and white men each receive substantial increases for “top” attributes, while Asian men
do not. Conversely, the penalty for “bottom”
3
attributes is significantly greater for Black men (at
thirty percent), indicating that failing to conform to racialized stereotypes of hypermasculinity

2
Campbell (1997) for example, found that the construction of masculine identities among
migrant miners in Sub-Saharan Africa dramatically increases these men’s risk of HIV infection.
Due to the dangerous nature of their labor, these migrant workers construct a “fearless” and
masculine identity with a certain devil-may-care attitude toward sexual activity. Thus, they
engage in unprotected sexual activities with sex workers near the mining areas.
3
By “top” I mean insertive partner, and “bottom,” receptive partner.
8
incurs great penalties. As we can see, the permeability of the male body has a great deal to do not
only with the construction of masculinity (Pascoe 2005), but the construction of heterosexuality
(Burke 2016; Ozbay 2010)
4
.
Theorists of masculinity and sexuality have argued that the cultural valuation of
hegemonic masculinity (Connell 1987) constitutes a greater desire for masculine attributes in gay
men and their sexual partners (Bailey et al. 1997; Bianchi et al. 2010; Han 2009; Levine 1998;
Phua 2007), influencing sexual economies such as pornography and prostitution (Dyer 1999;
Escoffier 2003, 2009). The eroticization of exaggerated masculinity arguably became more
prevalent and durable as a response to the AIDS crisis, where slim bodies could be interpreted as
“less healthy” and therefore large, developed musculature was interpreted as healthy and sexual
(Levine 1998; Mercer 2003, 2012). The dominant narratives and ideals in gay pornography take
very different forms across space and time. In Russia, for example, pornography still primarily
features a slimmer body as erotic (Healey 2010). Thus, attending to both the historical, global,
and regional dynamics of hegemonic masculinity are significant in a robust theory of the gender
order and therefore to the gendered and racialized nature of workplaces.

Inequality Regimes – Tokenism, Race, and Hegemonic Masculinity
One mechanism of inequality regimes is tokenism – the idea that those in the numerical
minority (whether by gender, race, or sexual orientation) experience unique standards,
experiences and interactions that are distinct from those in the gender or racial majority (Kanter
1977; Schilt 2010; Williams 1992; Wingfield 2013). Tokens in the workplace may experience

4
Rent boys, for example, may only penetrate their clients as a means to maintain a heterosexual,
masculine identity.
9
stereotypification, isolation, and others’ perceptions of them as incompetent. This creates
additional work, barriers and challenges that require a great deal of identity management in order
to navigate. As my data in the subsequent chapters indicate, men of color in the mainstream gay
adult film industry are in the numerical minority of performers, and it is therefore possible that
tokenism may be at play in shaping these men’s labor experiences.
As Wingfield (2013) notes, tokenism is a useful framework for investigating the
experiences of those in the numerical minority, yet it does not fully account for the privileges
some groups may carry into the workplace while simultaneously experiencing disadvantage
along axes of other identity categories. Men in traditionally female occupations, Williams (1992)
notes, frequently experience a “glass escalator” effect, whereby they are given higher-level
duties, receive more credit for their work, are more often promoted and given opportunities for
advancement. This is not true for all men, however. Wingfield (2009) complicates this by noting
the racialized components of the glass escalator – Black men in the same professions experience
“glass barriers” as a result of less welcoming coworker reception in the workplace and supervisor
assessments. These works highlight Ridgeway’s (2009) concept of the variable salience of
gender, as well as the variable salience of race; Black men in Wingfield’s study simultaneously
experience male advantages in the workplace while experiencing racial disadvantages due to
their heightened visibility as Black professionals.
As scholars have argued, Black men may employ certain tropes of masculinity so that, at
times, they can sidestep racial disadvantages and reconstruct themselves as men within a largely
masculinized and racialized environment (Wingfield 2013). As the research on workplace
inequality shows, identity categories such as gender, race and class shape the lived experience of
groups and individuals, yet many workplaces and industries remain unexplored. By exploring
10
whether tokenism is at play in the labor experiences of Black, Latino, and Asian men working in
adult film, I focus on relations of alliance, dominance, and subordination between hegemonic
and subordinated masculinities. Exploring these workplaces and focusing upon the experiences
of men of color allows for the exploration of how race and racialized sexual stereotypes
influence their labor experiences, and whether tokenism is at play within the broader inequality
regimes of the industry. My dissertation explores these questions through multiple
methodological and theoretical analyses of the labor experiences of men of color working in the
gay adult film industry.
As I note in the following chapter, in recent decades, gender has been replaced by sexual
activity as the primary determinant for the categorization of male homosexuality. In a sense,
“gayness,” had broadened to encompass a wider array of gender performances than prior to the
first half of the 20
th
century. Erotic content, therefore, that is produced by queer men and focuses
on men’s sexual activity with other men has the potential to represent and value a diverse array
of racial and ethnic groups as well as gender performances. Gay pornography thus becomes an
ideal location to assess how and whether gender and racial hierarchies are at play, assess within-
group variation, and apply the polymorphous paradigm to determine the “pleasure” and “danger”
of mainstream gay pornography. In essence, my research questions whether mainstream gay
pornography has the potential to undermine the oppressive paradigms many argue exist within
heterosexual pornography, whether it mirrors them, or if a complex blend exists. In the next
chapter, I explore the history of gay identity and gay adult film to contextualize contemporary
practices in the industry.

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Chapter 2 - History of Gay Adult Film
In order to analyze and discuss the contemporary state of play of the gay adult film
industry, it is critical to understand the history of how the industry emerged, and how gender,
masculinity, the body, and race were (and continue to be) critical elements in its shaping. I begin
this discussion by mapping male same-sex activity/identity/desire within the United States, the
emergence of gay identity, and its place in still and moving images.
Historians have documented the presence and endurance of same-sex relations and
attractions across multiple sociohistorical contexts, though “gay,” as an ascribed or claimed
identity category emerged in the U.S. only with the expansion of wage labor, the decreased
interdependent reliance on nuclear family for survival, and state programs which defined
citizenship through gendered and sexual norms (Canaday 2009; D’Emilio 1993; Seidman,
Meeks, and Traschen 1999). The state and medical regulation of sexuality–which reached a fever
pitch in the era of McCarthyism–allowed for the expansion of gay identities, communities, and
social movements in the 1970s (D’Emilio 1993; Foucault 1978), contemporaneous with the
introduction of mass marketed hardcore gay pornography.
While many have argued that gay culture erupted as a result of World War II, this myth
of pre-war isolation and invisibility (Chauncey 1994) obfuscates the ways in which same-sex
eroticism operated in men’s lives and their relationships to still and moving images of male
sexuality. A vibrant world of same-sex desire existed prior to WWII, yet the relatively
prohibitive period of the 1930’s through 1950’s “blind[ed] us to the relative tolerance of the
prewar years” (Chauncey 1994:9).
During these prewar years, different understandings of male-male sexual activity
operated than contemporarily; as Halperin (2002) and Sedgwick (1990) have argued, historical
12
models of homosexual categorization have frequently privileged gender over sexuality, where
effeminacy or “gender inversion,’ for example, were given more weight than same-sex sexual
acts. In the prewar period, men whose gender comportment was considered more feminine, who
expressed desire for other men, and who oftentimes took a receptive sexual role were classified
as “fairies,” while their more masculine counterparts were considered to be straight/heterosexual,
and sometimes classified as “trade”
5
(Chauncey 1994). Trade were “real men,” emblematic of an
aggressive masculine ideal (such as sailors or soldiers), but one who was “neither homosexually
interested nor effeminately gendered himself but who would accept the sexual advances of a
queer” (Chauncey 1994:16). Thus, sexual role or the intention behind the sexual act (e.g. sexual
gratification in being penetrated, economic necessity, or showing gratitude for a partner) were
deciding factors in how sexual acts determined identity in varying contexts and historical periods
(Almaguer 1991; Halperin 2002).
In the post-war period, “gay” emerged as a category as a dichotomous classification
based upon sexual object choice, rather than gender performance. Gay men regarded men as
“straight” only in the absence of any homosexual interest, attraction, or sexual acts (Chauncey
1994). This new rhetoric, in part, redefined the relationship between gender performance and
sexuality. Gender conformity was no longer the determinant of sexual “normalcy,” instead same-
sex sexual behavior increasingly became the determinant of homosexuality. While men whose
gender presentation was more feminine would still often be considered “gay,” the term had in
effect come to encompass more men (namely men who have sex with men). This allowed gay

5
While there is disagreement on the contemporary definition of the term “trade,” what is agreed
upon is that the term has undergone definitional changes since its original inception. The term
originally referred to the customer of a “fairy” prostitute, yet by the 1910s referred to any
“straight” man who responded to the advances of a gay man, and by the 1930s and 1940s
referred to straight-identified men who engaged in sex work with other men (Chauncey 1994).
13
men to understand themselves simultaneously as homosexual and as masculine. Thus, in this
period, the social salience of the category “trade” diminished as many men adopted a kind of
working-class “macho drag,” known as “clones” or “Castro clones,” referencing the gay San
Francisco Castro neighborhood (Cole 2000; Levine 1998).
This gay masculinism emerged in tandem with the increased visibility of the gay
liberation movement (Nealon 2001) and solidified, as Echols (2010) has argued, as disco
developed as a dominant musical genre in the late 1960s and 1970s. The non-stop beat of disco
music, in combination with new technology that allowed for uninterrupted transitions between
songs, made dancing in gay clubs a marathon activity. Simultaneously, the “sweatbox quality
gay discos made stripping to the waist all but necessary” (Echols 2010:126) thus necessitating an
enduring commitment to physical fitness and bodily aesthetics. As HIV/AIDS began to impact
gay men in the early 1980s, this “cult of masculinity” took root as a response to body wasting–
both as a physical strategy for HIV positive men to maintain health and slow the onset of the
disease, and as a social strategy to signal other potential partners of one’s seronegativity
(Signorile 1997). As a result, from the 1980s through present, the “camp” nature of gay macho
was replaced by a “straight-acting” construction of gay masculinity that continued to value
hypermasculine bodies but eschewed the working-class aesthetic in favor of groomed, shaven,
middle-class fashions (Connell 1992; Harris 1997).

The Interconnections of Gay Identities and Pornography: Stag Films, Physique Magazines
and Hardcore

14
The relationship between gay masculinities and erotic imagery in the 1900s through
today can be traced through the shifts from pre-war stag films to physique magazines in the
1950s and hardcore pornography in the early 1970s.
Gay erotic film began to emerge in approximately 1915 through “stag films,” shown in
backrooms, brothels, and lodge halls, directed toward (presumably heterosexual) male audiences
– indicated by interstitial title cards that sometimes spoke directly to the spectators. Stag films,
Williams (1999) contends, were
“primitive” in the sense that they
were short in length, silent, without
color, and generally lacked
narrative coherence. The intent of
these films, Williams argues, was
to arouse, but not satisfy, as they
regularly did not include the
“money shot” present in later
hardcore films. Instead, they promoted the satiation of desire by seeking out sex in the real
world, occasionally by promoting the nearby brothel (Williams 1999). Only five percent of the
stag films produced between 1920 and 1967 contained same-sex sexuality, and less than 1.5
percent were exclusively homosexual in nature (Stevenson 1997). Waugh (2004) clarifies that
films containing male/male sexual activity were more commonly produced and viewed in Europe
than in “phobic America” (133). Le ménage moderne du Madame Butterfly (see Figure 1), for
example, was one of the first stag films to incorporate themes of bisexuality and homosexuality.
Themes of homosexuality, Stevenson (1997) argues, existed only as “exotica within the

Figure 1 - J.H. Forsell as "Lt. Pinkerton" in Bernard Natan's Le
ménage moderne du Madame Butterfly (1920)
15
heterosexual market,” as there was no organized audience for gay erotica, and thus no production
to meet a demand. In early stag films, male-male sexuality contained themes of anal sex as
punishment, whereby the receptive performer was often more effeminate in demeanor or
appearance (Stevenson 1997). These articulations of homosexual masculinity were often
racialized; Asian men filled subordinate roles as an expression of subordinate social power and
white racial superiority (Waugh 1983). Understood in their historical context, these films
reflected the pre-war conceptions of sexual role and gender performance as definitive of sexual
identity; masculine men who assumed the insertive role (as
with “trade” men) were assumed to be heterosexual.
Though early stag films frequently featured performers in
drag, by the 1950s these began to decline in number to be
replaced by a kind of “macho drag” reminiscent of
working-class masculinities and the gay clone, represented
in physique magazines (Waugh 1983).
The increased liberalization of Post-WWII America
allowed for homosexual desire to surface in the mainstream
with physique magazines (Waugh 1996). While they had
existed for decades, between 1955 and 1965, thousands of
magazines, mail-order photographs and films circulated in the United States, often at odds with
obscenity laws and thus spurring cleanup campaigns (Escoffier 2009; Johnson 2010). Predicated
on three alibis that allowed for their tremendous circulation in both the pre- and post-war periods
– that they were athletic/workout guides, that they were images for artists and figure drawing, or
that they were part of nudist culture – physique magazines were often thinly-veiled homoerotica,

Figure 2 - Cover photograph of Bob
Mizer's Physique Pictorial magazine
(1958)
16
with text alongside that simultaneously communicated to gay readers participation in a “gay
culture,” and desexualized the images for heterosexual consumers and the state (see Figure 2).
Physique magazines have therefore been positioned as vastly influential to the growth of
gay culture; Waugh (1996) contends that the growth of physique culture “constitutes the most
significant gay cultural achievement during the formative quarter-century following World War
II” (215). The tremendous success of these magazines helped to connect a burgeoning gay
culture with consumerism. While political in the sense that they allowed for the growth of gay
culture, Waugh argues that they are simultaneously apolitical; they “closeted” homosexuality by
placing it in the context of heterosexual spaces and images (sports, manual labor, the military)
and furthermore, undermined the radical potential of gay liberation. In a slightly more generative
reading, Nealon (2001) contends that the texts accompanying the physique photographs place
homosexuality into the realm of sociability. Whether considered progressive or regressive,
physique magazines helped to solidify gay men’s valorization of muscularity and masculinity,
patterns which influenced hardcore pornography.
17
As gay culture became increasingly visible post-WWII, magazines and newspapers
actively marketed to gay men and lesbian women displaced physique publications as the primary
avenue for queer persons to understand themselves as part of a community (Nealon 2001).
Physique magazines existed as the primary channel for the circulation of gay erotica until the
production of hardcore gay pornography began in 1969, at which point both stag films and
physique magazines declined in popularity (Escoffier 2009). Despite this decline, physique
magazines’ masculine ideals informed the production of gay hardcore pornography. Many of the
same models, in fact, were recruited directly from physique photographers like Bob Mizer
(Escoffier 2009; Stevenson 1997). Thus,
the racialized masculinity produced in
and displayed through physique
magazines found its way into erotic
moving images. These patterns were also
racialized; when physique magazines did
include Black models, they were often in
“special editions” that codified them as
part of niche desires, and ultimately
more forbidden than if they had been
included with their white counterparts
(Nealon 2001).
As with physique magazines,
hardcore gay pornography helped to
situate homosexual desire within the

Figure 3 - Kenneth Anglemeyer's (aka Kenneth Anger) semi-
autobiographical experimental film Fireworks (1947) depicts a
young man's "rough trade" fantasies, the subjects of which
eventually turn on him and beat him to death.
18
realm of masculinity as it portrayed muscular and sometimes “straight” men engaging in same-
sex sexual activity (Escoffier 2009). Hardcore’s exact arrival is unclear as semi-autobiographical
films such as Kenneth Anglemeyer’s Fireworks and avant-garde films blurred the lines between
art and hardcore pornography. Warhol’s Blow Job (1964), which featured real or simulated oral
sex while the camera focused solely on the male performer’s face, Couch (1964) which featured
real sex but obscured penetration, and Flesh (1968), the first American film with full-frontal
male nudity.
Gay adult film began to emerge from underground economies in the late 1960s. In 1969,
Tom DeSimone, a UCLA film studies graduate student was disappointed by both the poor
videography and low production quality of adult films displayed at the Los Angeles Park theater.
As a response, he shot the softcore film Yes (later retitled The Collection), and shortly afterwards
moved into the production of hardcore films. DeSimone would, five years later, produce
Erotikus, a documentary history of the emergence of the gay adult film industry in Los Angeles.
In 1971, hardcore gay pornography erupted into mainstream consciousness with the
premier of Boys in the Sand, which was advertised in mainstream media and grossed nearly half
a million dollars with its theatrical release (see Figure 5) (Escoffier 2009). While heterosexual
porn theaters were not new, the release and success of Boys in the Sand spurred the proliferation
of theaters that displayed gay pornography and catered to gay audiences; over 50 had appeared
by the end of 1972 (Stevenson 1997). The demand for hardcore content in theaters was
prompted, in part, by reduced theater attendance as a result of the proliferation of home
television sets in the 1950s; theater owners sought hardcore content in order to increase theater
attendance.
19
Gay pornography thus emerged in Los Angeles, though production also took place in San
Francisco (Escoffier 2009). San Francisco was the first American city where hardcore gay
movies were shown in 1969, and was therefore given the title “the porn capital of America” by
The New York Times. Throughout the following years, both would exist as cites of production
and consumption of gay pornography; Falcon Entertainment opened in San Francisco in 1971
and Catalina Video in Los Angeles in 1978, both of which are, to present, two of the largest
houses of gay film production. William Higgins, founder of Catalina Video produced The Boys
of Venice in 1979, one of the first pornographic films not to use feature-filming conventions (see
Figure 4). Instead, it cobbled together shorter
scenes with a consistent theme and included
some of the most common trends in hardcore
pornography today, such as a slow-motion
cumshot (Burger 1995). With Higgins’ rise to
prominence in gay pornographic production,
the “center of gravity” of production became
settled in Los Angeles (Escoffier 2009).
Since the production of pornography was under the regulation of California’s pandering
law, which carried a three-year prison term, many hardcore production companies during this
period were fly-by-night operations. Vice would engage in sting operations by sending officers
posing as models, thus the earliest hardcore films relied on personal networks in order to cast
performers. The films themselves were therefore “sometimes little more than records of sexual
activity framed by the collective sexual fantasies of the people who film and edit one film a
week, every week of the year” (Escoffier 2009).

Figure 4 – Porn star Eric Ryan rollerskates during the
opening credits of William Higgins' The Boys of Venice, the
first pornographic film to eschew feature film narratives
20
The men who were featured in these films were emblematic of the most-desired qualities
producers sought in adult talent. Escoffier (2009) contends that performers during the early years
of gay pornography were expected to be very attractive and masculine; “those few films that
tried to include drag, camp, or effeminate characters didn’t work … it turns people off … they
will not pay money to be confronted with it on screen. They want a Marlboro man” (69). Blonde
and blue-eyed with a well-toned body, Casey
Donovan was catapulted into the unique
position of the “first gay porn star” by his
performance in Boys in the Sand. In his
analysis of gay cinema, Richard Dyer (1984)
contends that films use “visual and aural
signs which immediately bespeak
homosexuality” (31). This iconography allows viewers to quickly and economically situate
characters within the film – a necessity in pornography given its loose utilization of narrative and
setting. Thus, white men such as Donovan came to symbolize “gay masculinity” and gay
masculine ideals in pornography.

Racialized Masculinities in Pornography and Feminist Debates
Tracy Morgan (1996) argues that physique magazines’ restricted focus on white men’s
bodies is illustrative of the omission of men of color from gay culture, a trend that continued in
the earliest hardcore pornographic films (Burger 1995; Escoffier 2009). While there is ongoing
debate as to whether pornography is constitutive or representative of wider culture, I argue in this
dissertation that both occur simultaneously – pornography is both an “education of desire” as

Figure 5 - Peter Fisk and Casey Donovan in Wakefield
Poole's Boys in the Sand (1971)
21
Dyer (1999) contends, and is informed by broader patterns of racial, gender, class, and sexual
inequalities. In 1991, only five percent of U.S. gay adult films featured performers of color,
divided equally between those featuring Black and Latino men, while none featured Asian men
(Burger 1995). When films do feature men of color, they are often “thematically” devoted to all-
Black, all-Latino, and to a much lesser degree, all-Asian casts (Burger 1995), while interracial
films are still white-centered.
In his analysis of gay pornographic films featuring men of color, Burger (1995) contends
that titles such as “Colored Boys, Boys of el Barrio, and Horse Hung Hispanics,” indicate a
white male audience. Burger suggests that, while men of color could have produced these films,
the pejorative and objectifying nature of their titles
suggests the erotic subordination of men of color.
Racialized representations of men of color celebrate
the “mytho-erotic” nature of Black and Latino male
sexuality, while Asian men are nearly invisible
(Burger 1995). These narratives appropriate
biologically essentialist arguments of sexual
deviance, thus ideas of eugenics and Social Darwinist
perspectives are imbued into the production and
circulation of gay adult film (Fung 1999). These
discourses have imbued Black men and women with
a threatening, animalistic hypersexuality while
Asians are “collectively seen as undersexed,” colluding with the myth of Asians as the model
minority (Chou and Feagin 2008) and “the myth of the Black rapist” (Davis 1983). In his

Figure 6 – (Top) Sum Yung Mahn in
Below the Belt. (Bottom) Brandon Lee
tops his white scene partner, Jacob
Scott in Best of Brandon Lee
22
analysis of the Black psyche in a white world, Fanon argues that Black men are occluded by the
penis, “he is a penis” (Fanon 2008:147). Even if it is not the length of the Black man’s penis that
is threatening to white men, it is his sexual prowess.
Fung (1999) argues that “Asians are largely absent from the images produced by both the
political and commercial sectors of the mainstream gay and lesbian communities,” and yet when
they are present, their images, characters, and settings often rely upon racial tropes. Asian men
are regularly the egghead/wimp or the master/ninja/samurai, all of which are characterized by
asexuality. He further elaborates that in gay pornography, Asian men typically appear as
bottoms, as sexual stereotypes about the size of Asian men’s penises and their subordinate
masculinity precludes them from aggressively masculine, insertive sexual roles. Sum Yung
Mahn, who acted in six videotapes
between 1985 and 1992, was considered
to be one of the few gay Asian porn stars,
though nearly always assumed submissive
sexual roles within films that deployed
Orientalist tropes. Few Asian performers
have countered these narratives, Brandon
Lee being the most notable Asian top in
gay porn, the only Asian star with a “best
of” collection (see Figure 6) (Nguyen
2004).
Nguyen (2004) describes how Brandon Lee was simultaneously notable and mundane
– he often transcended racialized tropes, yet became “just another random (American) gay guy

Figure 7 - Van Darkholme both performs in and directs
bondage and shibari (Japanese rope bondage) pornography
23
one could easily find cruising in a West Hollywood bathhouse” (224) – he was an “assimilated”
Asian man. Nguyen further contends that part of Lee’s success was due in part to his racial
ambiguity; he first appeared under the name of Sean Martinez. Through various sources, Nguyen
confirmed that Lee identifies as Filipino, and thus originally attempted to present himself as
Latino, drawing “on the closer association of Latinos/Chicanos with hypersexual appeal” (247).
Lee retired from adult film in 2011 and very few gay Asian porn stars since have garnered
consumer attention; Van Darkholme (see Figure 7), primarily works in niche, bondage
pornography, and a handful of Asian men appear in limited scenes for companies such as Sean
Cody or Randy Blue, all of whom performed as bottoms, with Immanuel of Sean Cody being the
notable exception (see Figure 8). The racialized narratives that surround Asian men in
pornography are problematic in the sense that pornography “privileges the penis,” that is, the
climax of pornography is the cumshot, and thus the film is centered around the desire to
ejaculate, not to be fucked (Fung 1999; Williams 2008). Asian men’s role in pornography has
not, therefore, changed significantly since the earliest stag films that positioned anal receptivity
as “punishment” and placed Asian men in these roles (Stevenson 1997). Fung (1999) argues that
it is not the fantasy itself that is problematic, but rather the uniformity and immutability of these
narratives, and their representation of real-world inequalities (Tsang 1999).
24
In gay pornography, scholars such as Kendall (1999) argue, the fact that one man is the insertive
partner, or “top,” and one the receptive, or “bottom,” is a mimicry of heterosexual patriarchal
sex. The receptive sexual partner is seen as “worthless,
shameful and subordinate,” while the top is valued for his
aggression and hypermasculine attributes (Dyer 1999).
Anti-porn feminists during the Sex Wars, which focused
on power relations within sexual relationships, contended
that pornography distorts perspectives of groups or
classes of people (predominantly women), and through
the repetition of images that degrade them, minimizes the
seriousness of real-world acts on these groups of people
(Brownmiller 1984). Pornography was seen as productive
of culture (Dworkin 1987), turning submissive
performers into “subhuman creatures” (62). The cultural
feminist logic that argues the universality of women’s
and people of color’s oppression through patriarchal
sexuality has been critiqued for ignoring the variable
experiences of women, including and especially women
of color and sexual minorities who experience nuanced
relationships with patriarchy (Rubin 2012), as well as, I
contend, sex workers. Further, while the cultural feminist
arguments can be most easily mapped onto the experiences of Asian men in gay pornography,
Black and Latino men’s relationship to white sexuality and patriarchal gender relations

Figure 8 - (Top) Christian Thorn of Randy
Blue, who appeared in two videos in 2012.
(Middle) Trevor Tripp of Randy Blue, who
appeared in four videos in 2012. (Bottom)
Immanuel of Sean Cody, who appeared in
four videos in 2011
25
complicates this argument. For example, in his response to Kendall (1999), Araiza (2005)
contends that gay pornography undermines heterosexual power dynamics by placing men (or
women) in both dominant and subordinate roles, decoupling gender from genitalia. Further,
when historic and cultural specificity is taken into consideration, the argument that penetrative
sex simply mimics patriarchy is further complicated (Healey 2010). Those who study the
production of the gay and lesbian adult film industry note that each participant can choose their
role and switch roles within and between shoots (Lucas 2006); though Lucas fails to fully
account for how race complicates these “choices” in pornography, and my research data
contradicts.
The sexuality of men of color positions them culturally within broader gay communities,
and hegemonic discourse (Ortiz 1994); queer men of color’s sexuality is rarely represented in
their own communities. Ortiz argues that gay liberation in the Stonewall era began to appropriate
language of the civil rights movement, and through its cultural practices, one of which being
pornography, reinscribes “the racial and ethnic tropes which have allowed the white male to
posit himself as a universal subject.” The mere presence of men of color in pornography, he
continues, is not the issue, but the question of who is speaking and to whom, and therefore
implies a “whole range of important political issues about who is empowered and who is
disempowered in the representation of difference” (Mercer 1991:181). These representations are
especially significant because the racialized representation of pleasure can be the “velvet glove
on the iron fist of domination” (MacKinnon 1989c:219; Nash 2014).
The white supremacist nature of our gender order is premised upon the control of non-
white bodies, and does so through these racialized tropes (Ferber 2007). While Asians are
desexualized, their Latino and Black counterparts are reduced only to their sexuality; the Black
26
man in pornography, Walker (1980) argues, is defined “solely by the size, readiness, and
unselectivity of his penis” (103). Black masculinity is constructed as inherently aggressive,
hypersexual, and violent in order to perpetuate the myth of the Black rapist (Davis 1983). This
can be seen in the portrayal of Black men as the “Mandingo” or “buck,” which Williams (2004b)
argues evokes the “Hegelian bond between master and slave” (291). While only a small
percentage of pornography is considered “violent,” (Rubin 1993) the racialized connotations of
masculine violence can be seen in the stereotyping of Black men as hypermasculine, hypersexual
and with larger-than-life penises (Collins 2004a). Black men in pornography are photographed
from angles that elongate their penises (contemporarily helped with digital editing) as a means to
“draw attention to the threat posed by their blackness” (Bernardi 2006:237). Latino men are
similarly portrayed as possessive of an insatiable “primal sexuality,” that could get “out of
control” at any moment (Subero 2010).
The dynamics of race, gender, and sexuality present in adult film and its relationship to
power, patriarchy, labor and exploitation was centered in cultural battles from the 1970s through
the early 1990s. Debates over obscenity, sexuality, art, and pornography raged throughout the
United States during this period, punctuated by legal and governmental involvement (such as
President Reagan’s Meese Commission or the Minneapolis anti-pornography ordinance),
controversial media events (such as the release of Deep Throat and NEA debates over
Mapplethorpe and Serrano), and divisions in feminist approaches to sexuality (as highlighted by
the Barnard Conference). During this period, feminists hotly debated the relationship between
patriarchy and sexuality and were often placed into one of two camps: anti-pornography
27
feminists, which emphasized the “dangers” of sexuality, and sex-positive/anti-censorship
feminists, which underscored aspects of “pleasure.”
6

The anti-pornography movement, rooted in radical feminism, argued that our analyses of
sexuality are informed by our understandings of gender. This line of feminism was a critique of
heterosexual sex as male-dominated and imbued with unequal power dynamics that perpetuated
male primacy through the sexual access of women. Radical feminists contended that women had
been defined through relation to men (Rich 1980) and subsequently their oppression was rooted
in gender relations (Bunch 1981; MacKinnon 1989b; Rich 1980). The anti-pornography
movement adapted this reasoning to argue that oppression “stems from the repression of female
values,” i.e. a closer connection with a “natural order,” and morality (for a review, see Echols
1983a, 1983b, 1984). Gender differences were reflections of an inner self – whether a result of
biology or socialization – and the repression of “femaleness” was the source of women’s
subjugation (see, for example, Christ 1978; Young 1985). Closely connected with “cultural
feminism” (Echols 1984), this line of reasoning often focused on an “effects-of-porn”
perspective as well as critiques of those who work in the adult film industry. The participation in
the pornography industry, anti-pornography/cultural feminists argue, is often explained as
occurring as a result of incest and sexual abuse in childhood (Dworkin 1987)
7
. This “damaged
goods hypothesis” posits that individuals (in these analyses, namely women) who participate in
sexual labor have higher rates of childhood sexual abuse (CSA), mental health problems, and
drug abuse than the wider populace. Empirical data to support these claims was scarce, while

6
It should be noted that these two camps serve as ideal types in that the theorists and scientists whom are often placed into one of
these categories engage in complex and nuanced theorizing that problematizes the simplistic definitions often applied to each
group.
7
Dworkin posits that sixty-five to seventy percent of women involved in the production of pornography are victims of incest or
child sexual abuse.
28
counter-evidence strongly refuted such assertions. In their study of nearly two hundred adult film
performers and a matched sample from non-performers, Griffith et al. (2012) found no
differences in instances of CSA. They did, however, find that performers had higher levels of
self-esteem, positive feelings attached to sexuality, and reported enjoying sex more than the
matched sample.
The anti-pornography framework has continued to influence research on sexualities and
sex work. Theorists have defined this position as “hostile worlds,” (Zelizer 2000) in that
monetary and intimate exchanges necessarily contaminate and corrupt each other, or as the
“oppression paradigm” which views all sex work as an expression of patriarchal gender relations
(Weitzer 2009). The same logic present in the anti-porn campaign is present in the anti-
prostitution logic: inflation of the number of “victims,” the use of horror stories to depict the
norm, and the inability to attend to gray areas, i.e. the tensions between structure and agency
(Weitzer 2010). In attempting to de-exceptionalize sexual labor, Nussbaum (1998) demonstrates
the connections between sexual labor and other forms of bodily labor (e.g. domestic labor,
professors, singers, and massage therapists). She argues that the stigmatization of sexual labor is
a result of class, race, or gender bias and that feminists should be focusing on employment
opportunities rather than eradicating sexual labor.
Researchers and theorists who complicate both the pleasure and danger aspects of sexual
labor – what Weitzer (2009) terms the “polymorphous paradigm”
8
– offer critiques of sex work
while respecting the labor and agency of workers (Boris and Parreñas 2010; Parreñas 2011).
Indeed, most support the Marxist feminist perspective that all labor under capitalism is by its
very nature, exploitative (Kipnis 1996), and thus sexual labor is hardly exceptional in this regard

8
This framework, he argues is “sensitive to complexities and to the structural conditions shaping the uneven distribution of
agency, subordination, and job satisfaction” (215).
29
(Pateman 1999)
9
. As Bernstein (2007a) notes, given the gendered and racial disparities of the
postindustrial economy, there is compelling justification for people to enter the relatively higher-
paid labor of sex work. Due to the class-stratified nature of sex work (see, for example, Kay
Hoang 2010, 2011), the incentive is greater for those who have more cultural and bodily capital
to be leveraged for income. Indeed, those who adopt the polymorphous paradigm note that there
are indeed hierarchies of race and class in fields of sexual labor (Brooks 2010a; Miller-Young
2010; Parreñas Shimizu 2006). Collins (2006) argues that if sexual labor is a form of
employment entered into by some as a result of lack of opportunity, then these fields are more
greatly populated by those oppressed along lines of class, race, gender, and sexuality. Yet
simultaneously, bodies are commodified differentially (Constable 2009), and thus sex work is a
hierarchical field of labor.
As Bernstein (2007a) notes, however, sex workers who are white and middle class have
sometimes been hard pressed to defend themselves against critics who maintain that they are
atypical and unfit spokespeople for the majority of those engaged in sexual labor, whose “choice
of profession” is made under far greater constraints (474). Indeed, those who operate within the
oppression paradigm attempt to prove the “false consciousness” of sex workers: In Farley
(2004), fifty-four percent of sex workers argued that legalizing prostitution would make their
working conditions safer, though Farley argues that there is “no evidence for their belief” that
legalization will reduce risk (954)
10
. These strategies, Agustin (2007) notes, only serve to speak
on behalf of others by “telling the needy what they need.”

9
Pateman, while noting that other forms of wage labor are also exploitative, does support the abolition of prostitution, arguing
that it is the “use of a woman’s body by a man in exchange for money” (57). Here we can see a common failing of those who
operate within the oppression paradigm – sex workers are assumed to all be women.
10
There is, in fact, a great deal of evidence that decriminalization or legalization offers improved working opportunities for sex
workers (see, for example, Jenness 1993; Weitzer 1991; Brents and Hausbeck 2005; Daalder 2007; Meaker 2002).
30
The tactics and perspectives of anti-pornography feminism, I contend, are dangerous for
both women and men, as there is very little intellectual justification for the claims they promote
(Rubin 1993). In her uncompromising critique of anti-pornography rhetoric, Rubin (1993) argues
that there is more violence in mainstream media than in pornography, and that cultural feminist
critiques of pornography rest on the assumption that “certain sexual activities are so inherently
distasteful that no one would do them willingly, and therefore the models are ‘victims’ who must
have been forced to participate against their will” (32). Further, she argues that focusing on
pornography trivializes and draws attention away from real violence.
The prevalence of heterosexual-identified actors in gay pornography adds another
complicated layer that requires we attend to how we analyze the roles performed in pornography,
and whether we can simplistically analyze them as subversive or reconstitutive of patriarchal
sexuality (Escoffier 2003). Consequently the anti-porn sentiment present in debates over lesbian
and gay pornography are arguably reductive (Mercer 2003), as “macho signifiers are played
with, [and] released from their dominant and increasingly redundant associations: they are
exaggerated, eroticized and fetishized” (289)
11
. Queer approaches to pornography (both through
queer readings and queer theoretical approaches to its study), and pornography which contains
queer bodies can be understood to trouble the debates of gender inequality that permeated the sex
wars (Ward 2013). For example, in her analysis of lesbian pornography, Butler (2004) argues
that its prevalent commodification of sex toys and safe sex displaces the commodification of
female bodies that typically occurs in heterosexual pornography. Thus we can begin to see how
research on the content, effects, and production of lesbian/gay/queer pornography undermines
the oppressive paradigm and instead embraces the theoretical and empirical potential of the

31
polymorphous paradigm, which attends to both the “danger” and “pleasure” of sexuality in
studies of sexual labor. I elaborate upon these dynamics in Chapter 3, which discusses workplace
patterns I observed during eleven months of ethnographic observation at a gay adult film studio.

32
Chapter 3 – Hegemonic Masculinity at Work in the Gay Adult Film Industry

At the height of its success, the combined revenue of the adult industry has been
estimated at close to fourteen billion dollars annually (Williams 2004a), a sum greater than the
combined revenue of major league baseball, football, and basketball. More recent estimates
place it closer to 6 billion dollars annually – an approximately thirty to fifty percent reduction
(Fritz 2009) – though even at this more conservative estimate, the adult industry still has a
tremendous societal presence. Scholarship on pornography generally falls into one of three broad
categories: studies that explore films’ content (e.g. textual or content analysis of meaning), those
that investigate audience reception, and studies of the industry itself, its means of production,
and the patterns of labor and power. The majority of academic research in the adult film industry
has historically been feminist scholarship which fell into one of the first two categories, and
often debated whether the industry and its content may exploit and perpetuate a subordinate
image of women (Dworkin 1985, 1987; Kipnis 1996; MacKinnon 1989a; MacKinnon and
Dworkin 1998) while others emphasized the complexities of pleasure and agency obtained from
or displayed in adult content (Echols 1984; Rubin 1993; Vance 1984).
While the debates over the morality and effects of pornography still occupy a great deal
of academic discussion, what has received comparably little attention are studies of the industry
as a workplace. This is understandable given the challenges of entering a very private and often
stigmatized industry, as well as the modest academic aversion toward studying sex for sale. The
fact that gay pornography, however, has received comparably little scholarly attention is
surprising given that it is estimated to account for a disproportionately large amount of the
industry’s revenue at approximately twenty-five percent (Thomas 2000) and approximately ten
33
percent of web traffic on popular content sharing sites (Reddit 2013). The adult industry not
only reaches mass amounts of consumers, but employs countless people whose labor is
insufficiently understood, and occurs within patterns of labor that remain unexplored. Studying
the adult industry can therefore tell us a great deal not only about desire, but also about the social
structures which generate the products of consumption, and how sexuality, race, class, gender
and the body are mechanisms of organizing power in their creation.
The high rates of employment and attrition in the adult film industry call for greater
attention to the hierarchies of power and privilege that may influence its workings (Williams
2004a). This study draws on two years of participant observation in a gay adult film studio to
provide a window into the labor aspects of the industry, their relation to overarching patterns of
hegemonic masculinity, race, and gender and their connection to systems of inequality. Through
analysis of discourses that police the boundaries of masculinity, I offer an outline of a local
hegemonic masculinity produced within the gay adult film industry that continues to legitimate
the subordination of femininity, and discuss this local form’s relationship to regional hegemonic
masculinity. Through this discussion, I suggest a more nuanced approach to applications and
understandings of regional hegemonic masculinity.

Theoretical Framing
In the past thirty years, gender scholars have engaged in tremendous theoretical and
methodological development of the study of masculinities, arguing that we cannot speak of
“masculinity” in the singular form as masculinities are not essential, but are instead socially
constructed and plural (Connell 1987; Kimmel 2004; Kimmel and Messner 2012). A significant
portion of the work on masculinities has utilized the theoretical concept of hegemonic
34
masculinity, which Connell (1987) defines as the practices that “institutionalize men’s
dominance over women” and men of subordinated masculinities (185). Drawing upon Gramsci’s
concept of hegemony (1971), this framework acknowledges that domination is perpetuated not
only by force, but also by consent with, and the perpetuation of the values and ideals of those in
privileged positions. Hegemonic masculinity is reinforced through the embeddedness of
practices, beliefs, and values in the given society, and simultaneously affords dominant groups
numerous privileges while constituting subordinated groups as less or non-masculine, thereby
partitioning their social access.
Masculinities scholars have employed Connell’s theory in order to outline the practices
that constitute hegemonic masculinities at local, regional, and global levels (Connell and
Messerschmidt 2005; Messerschmidt 2012), and to explore its relation to subordinated
masculinities. For example, masculinities scholars have noted that flexible, hybrid formations of
hegemonic masculinity emerge through appropriations of select attributes of subordinated
masculinities (Arxer 2011; Bridges 2013; Burke 2009; Demetriou 2001; Messerschmidt 2010;
Messner 1993). While such processes might be seen as valuing the attributes of subordinated
groups and the softening or inclusiveness of masculinity, many argue that hybridization is simply
“the best possible strategy for the reproduction of patriarchy,” and as a theoretical framework
allows us to see the ways in which hegemonic masculinity adapts to change and historic
specificities (Demetriou 2001:348).
While most men do not meet the “ideals” of hegemonic masculinity, many, including
women and subordinated men–whether by race, class, sexuality, or ability–are complicit in
sustaining it (Chen 1999; Wingfield 2009; Yeung, Stombler, and Wharton 2006). Within the
broader gender order, gay men may be targeted because of stereotyped feminine behavior
35
(Lusher and Robins 2007), yet even within gay male settings, studies have demonstrated gay
men’s adherence to practices that reinforce men’s superiority over women (Johnson and Samdahl
2005; Lanzieri and Hildebrandt 2011) and of the devaluation and abjection of femininity in other
gay men (Levine 1998; Lewis 2009; Mercer 2012; Taywaditep 2001). Within the framework of
hegemonic masculinity, these two processes have been formulated as “external hegemony” – that
which reinforces men’s superiority over women – and “internal hegemony,” power over
subordinated masculinities (Demetriou 2001). This dynamic approach to hegemonic masculinity
acknowledges that it is not only practices by those who hold positions of power that bolster
patriarchy; diverse and marginalized persons or groups may also engage in practices that
reinforce hierarchies of masculinities (Yeung et al. 2006). Indeed, it is within such settings that
hegemonic masculinity may prove a valuable framework to understand the maintenance of
patriarchy, as marginalized men may deceptively present what appears to be counter-hegemonic,
but is actually “an instrument of … patriarchal reproduction” (Demetriou 2001:355). Thus, in a
setting in which a group of men – in this study, gay men who produce homosexual sexual erotic
content – do not “measure up” to hegemonically masculine ideals, we might expect to see
processes which actively challenge the existing gender order, yet may in fact bolster it (Chen
1999).
The maintenance of the existing gender order, and support of hegemonic masculinity
occurs through a diverse body of practices. Drawing upon Kristeva’s (1982) notion of the abject,
queer theorists such as Butler (1993) argue that gender and gender hierarchies are created and
maintained through the repudiation of a failed gender, namely that which is not socially
acceptable, recognizable, or intelligible. This othering manifests in the daily practices of
symbolic boundary making or borderwork (Gerson and Peiss 1985) in that it creates social,
36
collective and individual identity as well as cultural membership through this process of
exclusion/abjection. Gendered mechanisms of borderwork have been documented as occurring
through discourse (Pascoe 2005, 2007, 2012), through the management of physical space
(Thorne 1993), occupational segregation and hiring practices (Williams 1992; Schilt 2006; Pettit
and Hook 2012), and representations in media (Gamson 1998) among others (for a review, see
Lamont and Molnár 2002). Studies of borderwork in the construction of masculinity have noted
the centrality of homophobia to these processes (Kimmel 2004; Lehne 1989; Pascoe 2005, 2007,
2012), as it exposes men’s anxieties regarding gender’s fluidity, and the disquiet over the fact
that men may renounce masculine privilege and “move down the gender ladder” (Annes and
Redlin 2012:281), even among gay men who may stigmatize other men for being “too gay,”
effeminate or desiring penetration (Nguyen 2014; Robinson and Vidal-Ortiz 2013; Sycamore
2012; Ward 2008). These practices are not only gendered, but racialized; Asian men are often
emasculated or desexualized (Fung 1999; Taywaditep 2001; Phua 2007; Poon and Ho 2008)
while Black men are hypersexualized (Collins 2004b; Ferber 2007; Majied 2010; Miller-Young
2008; Wilkins 2012). These depictions serve to maintain a racialized hierarchy of masculinities
that privileges whiteness and heterosexuality, even within non-white and non-heterosexual
contexts (Ferber 2007; Yeung et al. 2006).
How these elements play out in a market-driven industry – in this case the adult film
industry – and how this valuation reflects and (re)constitutes the desires of presumably gay men
consumers
i
requires further exploration. Gay men view pornographic content at over twice the
rate of heterosexual men (Thomas 2000), and because of its prevalence and legitimation of
homoeroticism, pornography has become a vehicle through which a gay personal identity can be
asserted (Escoffier 2009). This study does not directly investigate the impact that images in gay
37
pornographic film have upon consumers, but instead explores the connection between labor
practices and the products of the gay adult film industry to elucidate the relationship between
local and regional hegemonic masculinities.

Masculinities, (sex) work, and pornography
Because workplaces are not gender, race, class, or sexuality-neutral, identity categories
are often utilized to legitimate organizational structures and hierarchical inequalities (Acker
1990, 2006). Incorporating sociological analyses of labor into the study of sex work, however,
requires that we first understand sex work as work . The literature on sex work and labor
insufficiently intersect, in part because of the “precarious” nature of sex work - its unpredictable
and risky nature (Kalleberg 2009). As part of the informal economy (Ferman 1990), sex work is
often without benefits or unionization and is positioned as non-valuable work; legalized forms
are therefore embroiled within insufficiently examined organizational structures (Parreñas 2011;
Weitzer 2009). Thus the hierarchies, wage discrimination, hiring practices, and labor experiences
of individuals in sex work require further exploration (Weitzer 2009).
The structural factors that segregate the broader labor market (such as gender, race, class-
via-education, and sexuality) positions sex work as a field that may offer disadvantaged groups
more economic opportunities than other forms of work (Bernstein 2007a; Collins 2006; Farley
2004; Nussbaum 1998). Research on non-sexual labor has demonstrated white men’s greater
rates of hirability than Black men (Pager et al. 2009) and has argued this pattern is a result of the
fear of violence and criminality associated with Black men. How these patterns appear in
organized sexual labor, such as that of the gay adult film industry, remain unexplored. How, for
example, do the inequality regimes (Acker 2006) within the industry constitute gendered and
38
raced hegemonic forms toward which performers
ii
must orient their gender strategies in order to
obtain and retain employment?
By utilizing a framework of hegemonic masculinity to explore men’s labor force
experience, we can attend to the dynamics of racial, class, and sexual inequalities, and their
interconnections. Studies of the workplace have demonstrated that workers who best exemplify
valued traits are likely to receive greater organizational rewards (Hodges and Budig 2010). The
impact of the political natures of desire (i.e. the hierarchical presence of race, class, and gender
performance) upon the adult film industry continues to emphasize the privileging of hegemonic
forms of beauty, for instance, the labor marginalization of Black women performers in
pornography (Miller-Young 2010). While there is a wealth of research on the relationship
between race and sexuality in adult film (Bernardi 2006; Forna 2001; Gardener 1980; Shimizu
2007), such research that explores the politics of desire with regard to labor in adult film is
sparse. This chapter addresses this deficiency through the exploration of labor practices in gay
adult film, and connects it with the literature on hegemonic masculinity. By doing so, this work
contributes to better understandings of how the structural gender order is upheld by marginalized
men through the relationship between local hegemonic masculine forms and the cultural products
that are taken up in the construction of regional hegemonic masculinities.

Methodology
Fieldsite selection
The findings from this study are drawn from participant-observation over the period of
two years during 2012 and 2013 at From Behind Films,
iii
a gay adult film studio located on the
West Coast of the United States. At the time of my study, From Behind Films had been in
39
business for approximately fifteen years and employed some of the most prominent, award-
winning performers in the gay adult film industry. While staff reported that the studio was
relatively well known due to its longevity and presence in the industry, the owner described it as
a “pop and pop” operation due to the small staff and efficient production. From Behind Films
produces online and DVD video content for three websites: The first website, which I refer to as
Bottoms Up, features a single performer who is featured in all of the films produced for that
website, and engages in sexual activity with an assortment of other models. The second website
provides what the staff refer to as “mainstream
iv
” gay adult films, in that they feature primarily
young (18 to roughly 30-year-old), muscular, well-endowed, and primarily white performers, a
subsidiary which I term Stock Cocks. From Behind Films’ third website, Boi Toys, features an
older/younger scene partner pairing. Each website costs consumers approximately thirty-five
dollars for a thirty day subscription, with a discount offered to those who sign up for automatic
monthly membership renewal.
The physical space that I observed serves as both From Behind Films’ office and their
studio. The studio is located in an upscale suburban residential neighborhood in a large, six-
bedroom home, some of which serve as offices, with four primary filming sites: a bedroom set, a
living room set, a kitchen set, and a set in the backyard.
From Behind Films employs six full-time staff: the owner (Steve), his partner who
manages financial aspects of the business, a web designer, a video editor, a casting director
(Samuel), and a video director (Bobby). All staff were between the ages of 25 and 50 at the time
of my fieldwork, self-identified as gay men, and white, with the exception of Samuel who is
Latino. My primary interactions were with Bobby, Samuel, and Steve, in addition to many adult
film models hired by the studio for shoots. The studio has employed “exclusive” contracted
40
performers in the past, though at the time of my observation there were no contracted
performers, but instead a pool of ten to twenty models who appeared every few months for the
websites, while the remaining positions were filled by a cadre of approximately two hundred
performers, many of whom were employed 1-3 times on average by my estimation. As the
majority of models were also white, race often went interactionally “unmarked” during my time
at From Behind Films.

Data collection
I gained access to the studio by requesting an interview with the owner, during which I
offered my administrative assistance in exchange for spending time with them during casting and
filming. My role at the studio varied from visit to visit; periodically I was purely an observer,
mostly during non-filming days, where I observed Samuel and Bobby in the casting office.
When filming occurred, I often assumed the role of intern, in that I operated secondary video
cameras, provided behind-the-scenes photography, fetched drinks, lubricant, condoms and other
items for the models, and organized sets at the direction of the video director. Assuming the role
of intern allowed me to directly participate in and observe the processes of casting, directing and
filming. I believe that my identity as a Ph.D. student and as a white-presenting gay man were
key factors in gaining access and shaping the interactions I had with the staff. It was assumed,
for example, that I was personally familiar with the world of gay adult film and gay subcultures,
while my position as a student and intern allowed the staff to “educate” me in the workings of
the industry.
Utilizing Glaser and Strauss’s constant-comparative method (1967), I coded my first set
of fieldnotes for emergent concepts, formed initial field hypotheses about these processes, and
41
investigated the veracity of these hypotheses in future visits. In this study, I was initially
interested in constructions of masculinity in the gay adult film industry, and thus paid particular
attention to how the studio staff selected models to cast, the ways in which they discussed the
bodies and behavior or performers, and the kinds of directions they gave them during filming.
Periods in the field lasted on average three hours per week, though visits lasted up to seven hours
during filming.

Hegemonic masculinity in gay adult film production
This study illuminates how staff and casting agents construct a local, profitable form of
hegemonic masculinity for the gay adult film industry, which is constructed in relation to shared
understandings of regional hegemonic masculinities. This happens through two processes:
employers’ discussions of attractive bodies that are appropriate and employable for gay
pornography, and through a femiphobic discourse that polices its bodily and performative
borders as a form of internal hegemony (Demetriou 2001).
The discussions of appropriate porn bodies and the simultaneous femiphobic discourse
serve as social boundary making processes whereby the category of a valued and employable
masculinity for the gay adult film industry is defined. Further, these processes uncover
racialized tropes of masculinity and their place in “mainstream” gay adult film. Thus, these
processes serve to further our understanding of the ways in which sexuality, race, class, gender
performance and the body intersect in the construction of masculinity – and by understanding
this contextually situated hegemony – illuminating the relationships between local, and regional
hegemonic masculinities.
42
I first outline the ways in which the staff at the studio discuss performers’ masculinity
and body, and categorize them has hirable or as not suitable for the adult film industry. This
process occurs most frequently as they review submissions for potential performers submitted
from agents and the models themselves. These are received electronically via emails from
agents, or reviewed in a database of those submitted directly to the studio. Submissions include a
laundry list of performer demographics, such as age, height, weight, skin color, ethnicity,
sexuality, erect penis size, HIV status, a list of sexual acts they will or will not perform, and
comments as to the types of other models they prefer to work with or will not work with.
Submissions also require pictures taken within the last twelve months, including a picture that
shows the performer’s face when smiling, a photograph of their chest and abdominals, an erect
penis photograph with an object for size comparison, and a photograph of their backside. The
process of reviewing submissions centers upon a discourse of the body that draws on common
physical understandings of hegemonic masculinity in order to define the local form of
hegemonic masculinity. I then discuss the second process, where the staff at the studio utilize
femiphobic language in order to police the borders of this masculinity, a process that not only
delineates who is not employable or valuable to the industry, but also further defines the category
of performers who are desired. This primarily occurs through gendered pronoun usage such
“she” or “her” to disparage performers who possess undesirable attributes or behaviors.

Defining local hegemonic masculinity in gay adult film
The ways in which the staff at From Behind Films construct desirable masculinity for the
gay adult film industry occur both in discussions during casting and through the direction given
to performers during filming. In casting, the staff primarily discuss the bodies of the models that
43
they employ or plan to employ. While Samuel, the casting director, and I were reviewing
submissions together during a visit, he pulled up a photograph of a relatively lithe, young white
man, and stated, “He doesn’t really have much muscle mass, and that’s the thing, he’s really
cute, but he’s not like … porn.” The ability to say that one is not porn relies on the premise that
they know what porn is. Samuel, Bobby, and Steve all routinely agreed on who was hirable and
desirable for gay pornography, indicating a shared understanding of the requirements for this
category of masculinity.
During one field visit, the owner, Steve, described to me a performer that was coming in
later that day for a shoot:
Today’s shoot is a performer named Griffin who they had shot content with for a straight
website a number of years ago. Steve goes on to say that back then, he was “fine, nothing
special,” that he was “kind of slim,” but that he has since put on a lot of muscle and is
“6’4”, with a shaved head [pauses] Really hot.”
From this excerpt, we can see that being considered valuable enough to hire is contingent upon a
certain amount of muscle mass; models need to be “jockish” to be considered for hire, even
when they are looking for performers for Boi Toys, as Samuel educated me through the review of
two performers’ submissions which were rejected:
Samuel continued reviewing performer submissions, and said, “Nineteen, so that’s good
he’s young … 5’7, 125 pounds … really skinny… even if we’re looking for Bois, we want
them to be a little built.” Bobby added, “more jockish,” to which Samuel replied, “that’s
the perfect word.” Later during the visit, Samuel pulled up a submission and said, “See,
this guy, he’s kinda just skinny … he’s got no body…” and closed out the submission.
44
These kinds of conversations begin to elucidate what is appropriate, desirable and employable
masculinity for the gay adult film industry, but it is through discussion of the penis that the
necessary attributes become overt. During one visit, I observed the casting director, Samuel,
“pull cumshots,” which consisted of viewing previous videos and taking static screenshots for
website content. We were viewing a video, and Samuel pointed at one of the models in the scene
and stated, “It’s such a waste. He’s got one of the best dicks I’ve ever seen and he’s a total
bottom.” In this, there is an inverse association between “best dick” and being a “total bottom,”
resulting in being a labeled a “waste.” I interpret this to mean that the studio perceives large
penises to be good or of social value, and that the value can only be expressed when it serves the
purpose of insertion. Otherwise, this value is lost or “wasted.” It should be noted that the studio
does cast men as bottoms, so bottoms do contain value, but these above practices imply that there
is a greater amount of social value and desirability embodied within endowed men who play the
role of “top.”
The value of a large penis became evident during casting sessions, and is explicitly
evident in the following field note excerpt that describes an interaction between the casting
director and studio owner:
Steve entered the casting office and he and Samuel began discussing a model for an
upcoming scene. Steve instructed Samuel to negotiate with the performer. Samuel replied,
“He's gonna want like $1400 for that,” and Steve said, “Yeah he's not getting that.”
Samuel replied, “The thing is for that scene he's gonna get notoriety. Those are two well
known guys.” Steve said, “I don't know that he wants that,” and explained that his manager
just wants him to get work and nothing more. Samuel asked, “So where can I go? Like
what’s my ceiling? [for negotiating].” Steve replied, “I don't even know. … He's got a huge
45
dick … remember it's a three-way, he is going to be doing more work, he is going to be
sucking two dicks … I don’t know, maybe it shouldn't be a three-way … $1200 … if he
wants more, come talk to me.”
In this interaction, Steve, the owner, is taking the size of the model’s penis into consideration
when determining how much money they are willing to offer him for the scene. Both the amount
of work he will have to do during the scene as well as his body are monetized by the studio, and
in turn serve as bargaining chips for the performer. In another visit, toward the end of the year
when business is slowest and Samuel had some free time, I had the opportunity to ask him to
train me in the process of casting models. I asked questions about what they were looking for
while reviewing submissions, and he stated:
“This guy is 23, but he looks a little old for [Boi Toys] … he could work for Stock Cocks
… he’s got a nice thick dick, that always helps. A big dick is always a plus, never a
negative, it’s never a point against someone.”
The size of a model’s penis is routinely used to determine the appropriate sexual role in the films
(either insertive or receptive). When reviewing performer submissions, statements about
performers such as “he has a huge one” or “he’s got a huge cock” are made specifically in
reference to performers that they want to bring in for filming. A large penis, as Samuel had
informed me, is best used for insertive purposes; a model with a large penis who bottoms is seen
as “a waste.” When contrasted with an example where a model was cast as a bottom, we can see
that this logic also impacts the model’s agency.
When Samuel and I reviewed model submissions, he showed Bobby a photograph of a
potential performer and said, “Oh he's a bottom,” Bobby replied, “Yeah, he doesn't have much of
a cock.” Samuel paused and then said, in a somewhat derisive tone, “Oh yeah, there it is.”
46
Here we can again see the association between penis size, attractiveness, and appropriate role on
the part of the performer. The performer’s penis was judged to be rather small, and therefore the
appropriate role for him was that of bottom. This is in contrast to models with large penises who
possess the agency to elect their desired role. It is also worth noting that the lines of valuation go
beyond penis size and also have racial components:
Samuel and I returned to reviewing submissions and Samuel pulled up a submission from
an Asian performer, and said, “Asians don’t do well, they’re not big sellers … Asians,
Black guys, they do better in niche sites.”
And on another visit, Bobby discusses this with Keith, a model:
The model described how he had worked with Jason Stone, a well-known Asian bondage
porn star, and how he had been “nervous about getting fucked, because [he] had only
recently started” and that Jason Stone had replied harshly, “You've had four weeks to
prepare!” Bobby expressed annoyance that someone would be that harsh as opposed to
being comforting and supportive. Keith said, “I think that's his thing, to be dominant.”
Bobby replied, “You can't be Asian and dominant, it just doesn’t work, it can’t happen.”
The reliance on racialized tropes in the casting process makes explicit the racialized nature of
desirable gay masculinity for the adult film industry. Asian performers are feminized and
rendered undesirable, as they cannot “be dominant” and it is assumed that they will be anally
receptive, and therefore do not “sell well.” By contrast, the racial component of this masculinity
requires that Black men be dominant and anally penetrative, underlined for me when Samuel
then showed me a photograph of a Black former “studio exclusive” they had employed, who was
very large, muscular, and well-endowed. The racialized elements of this local form of hegemonic
masculinity within the gay adult film industry rest on tropes of Black hypermasculinity and
47
hypersexuality as well as the emasculation of Asian men. Thus, because Black men are able to be
seen or portrayed as “dominant” in a way that Asian men are not, Black men appear to be
moderately less disadvantaged within the gay adult film industry.

Policing the borders – the femiphobic discourse
All of the performers employed by From Behind Films are male, however the use of
female gender pronouns such as “she” and “her” are key mechanisms by which the staff police
the borders of the local form of hegemonic masculinity they seek to produce. Female gender
pronouns are often utilized when a model causes difficulty for the studio staff. In the studio there
is a corkboard, which I refer to as “the casting board,” on which the staff post 4x6 photographs
of the performers for scheduled scenes. During one visit to the studio, I noticed that a photograph
that had previously been paired with another performer’s 4x6 was suddenly absent a scene
partner:
I asked, “Did you lose a scene partner for Eli?” Bobby replied that they didn’t have one,
but Samuel corrected, “No we lost him.” Bobby turned around and asked who the partner
was, and Samuel responded, “Trevor Smith, but he suddenly retired.” Bobby replied,
“Yeah, she’s retired, until her rent’s due.”
In this situation, the porn star had suddenly decided to leave the industry only days before the
scheduled shoot, creating the challenge for the studio to scramble to find a new scene partner for
the shoot. The subject of retired porn stars had come up in prior visits, but the use of a female
gender pronoun had not been used until this point. The male pronoun in the above interaction
between Bobby and Samuel was used when it was stated that they had “lost him,” but once it
was revealed that the model had suddenly decided to retire and that this had impacted the studio,
48
the model was feminized (“she’s retired, until her rent’s due”). The use of female gender
pronouns in this situation is connected with the dependability of the performer, thus while there
are explicit bodily requirements for desirable masculinity, there are performative and interactive
attributes, such as dependability, that are required as well. The model must also be polite and
respectful, as indicated during another visit when Samuel indicated that he did not want to hire a
performer again because “she yelled at me on the phone.”
When the studio staff wishes to disparage a performer or their actions, they utilize female
gender pronouns in order to do so. The aforementioned acts of disparagement occurred
specifically when the model had caused difficulty for the studio or to the staff, but this is not the
only instance in which female gender pronouns are utilized. In cases where a performer is
viewed simply as not a good fit due to his appearance, he is frequently feminized by the staff:
Samuel was reviewing 4x6 photographs for potential scene partners and suggested a
pairing to Bobby, who stated that the model was too old. Samuel asked, “Well, he can’t
be for Stock Cocks?” Bobby replied, “He’s 45.” and Samuel asked, “She’s got some city
miles on her?”
This example highlights how the femiphobic discourse is deployed not only to police a
performer’s behavior, but also his body. It is implied that the model is “rough” or “overused” for
his age – in the manner of a car only driven in the city – and thus is undesirable for employment.
The use of a female gender pronoun in this instance implies a negative, ageist connotation of
undesirability. During my time at From Behind Films, the staff did not ever use “she” or “her”
in a positive manner, it was always associated with the negative: too old, too difficult,
unattractive (too skinny, too small, not sufficiently endowed), or too demanding.
49
If the female gender pronoun is used in relation to a performer and it is only used to
disparage, then there is a femiphobic, misogynistic connotation to its usage. At one fieldsite
visit, I had the opportunity to assist with filming by operating “Camera B,” which is the backup
camera. During this field visit, we filmed a scene between two real-life boyfriends, Andras and
César, where Andras was “topping,” or anally penetrating César:
During a break in filming, Bobby asked Andras, “Where are you taking her [César] for
dinner?” and after discussing a few options, Andras proposed a Mexican restaurant.
Bobby contends, “Just ‘cause she’s Mexican doesn’t mean she wants tortillas.”
In this instance, the use of the female gender pronoun by the director, Bobby, is used specifically
to refer to the performer [César] who identifies as a bottom or is bottoming. While this specific
use of female gender pronouns was directed in this case at a Latino performer, the larger context
suggests that this was not meant to disparage him due to his race, as I did not observe the staff
use “she” or “her” in reference to other Latino performers when reviewing performer
submissions or during production during my period of fieldwork. Thus, given the negative
connotations of female gender pronouns (Fair 2011), I argue that this act of labeling the model
who is anally penetrated “she,” uses the femiphobic discourse to devalue the receptive
performer. In other words, to be anally penetrated is to be feminine or female, and to be female
is to be devalued (Bersani 2010; Nguyen 2014; Pascoe 2007). In applying the association
between female gender pronouns and disparagement, both previous and subsequent visits to the
fieldsite elucidated these actions as constructing a gender hierarchy.
Through the use of female gender pronouns, the staff at From Behind Films define
models who are of no value or lesser value to the studio: those who are difficult to work with,
those who are too old or unattractive, and while “bottom” performers are employable, my
50
observations suggest they are less valuable than penetrative performers. In all instances with the
exception of the filming of scene with Andras and César, the model was dismissed as
unemployable.
Discussion – from local to regional
Mechanisms of gender policing are nuanced, historically and geographically specific, and
diverse in the ways that they define hegemonic and subordinated masculinities (Messerschmidt
2012). The use of a femiphobic discourse at From Behind Films indicates that it is the specter of
femininity that regulates the local hegemonic masculinity constructed through their production of
gay adult film. These adult film producers, during both casting and directing, engage in symbolic
boundary work (Lamont and Molnár 2002) through discussion of “appropriate” masculine bodies
for gay pornography, and the deployment of a femiphobic discourse. These mechanisms
construct a local hegemonic masculinity that privileges professionalism, reliability, dominance,
muscularity, men between twenty and thirty-five years of age, who “jockish,” well-endowed, and
white. These processes determine who gets hired as a performer, who receives more work, and
who gets paid more money. Men who are viewed as conventionally masculine and as tops
receive the benefits of this gender hierarchy, while those who do not are devalued or precluded
from hire
v
. This is racialized in complicated but demonstrable ways. White performers
experience the most workplace privilege, as they are the clear first choice during casting. Latino
men occupy a secondary position, though are routinely considered for hire. Black men may very
rarely be considered, while Asian performers are categorically excluded.
Because these practices occur at a site which has a direct hand in creating products for a
marketplace and is a site of employment, the economic implications of these practices warrants
consideration. Samuel and I discussed model pay rates during one visit:
51
Samuel asked me again if I had any questions, and I asked, “so how does pay work? Is it
based on what kind of sex they’re going to have to do during the scene?” Samuel replied
that it was not based on the sex but that “pay works based on stardom.”
Though he did not explicitly connect pay to sexual roles, race, or body, it is likely that those with
greater bodily capital (Bridges 2009; Monaghan 1999, 2002) may be able to negotiate for
employment and higher pay than those outside the borders. Considering these trends relative to
findings from other studies of workplaces and the “ideal” employee, it is unsurprising to find the
privileging of whiteness in hiring (Bertrand and Mullainathan 2003; Pager et al. 2009),
masculinity in workplace interaction (Henson and Rogers 2001; Williams 1992, 2013) or the
complicated and often precarious nature of “outness” at work and its interconnectedness with
masculinity (Giuffre, Dellinger, and Williams 2008; Tilcsik 2012; Ward and Winstanley 2005;
Williams, Giuffre, and Dellinger 1999).
Where Pascoe’s (2005) high school boys used the fag discourse to reinforce their own
masculine identity at the expense of another’s, the staff at From Behind Films use female gender
pronouns to construct the category of a devalued, or unhirable performer. This symbolic
boundary work of exclusion at the interactional level ultimately results in social boundaries
which maintain unequal access to material resources and opportunities for those who work in the
gay adult film industry. This devaluation occurs not only to models who cause difficulty for the
studio, but along lines of race and of sexual role. Asian men are feminized, they “cannot be
dominant,” and are rarely considered for hire, and then only as bottoms. While the studio does
not consider Asian men for hire, Black men appear to marginally profit from hypersexual tropes
to obtain work. Through these symbolic and social boundaries, the staff create hierarchical
categories of difference, resulting in discriminatory hiring practices which are then justified as a
52
result of “market demand.” Steve explained to me during one fieldsite visit that they “know what
sells” through metrics that track view counts on specific videos, the number of times people list a
video as a favorite or download it, and through comments they submit. They use these metrics to
justify the gender and racial hierarchy constructed through their hiring practices.
The findings in this study continue to provide support for the arguments of previous researchers
who identify homophobia as an essential mechanism for defining contemporary masculinity
(Burn 2000; Kimmel 2003; Pascoe 2005, 2007; Plummer 2001) yet the complexities of how
gender is regulated in all-gay contexts complicates this framework. The femiphobic discourses in
homosocial and homosexual spaces extends theories of the homophobic “fag” discourse by
pulling apart the stratum of meanings and mechanisms that can be deployed in abjection; men of
subordinated masculinities (in this instance, the producers in the gay adult film industry) further
“other” those already scorned by the larger cultural fag discourse. Through this discourse, the
gender hierarchy is reconstituted; feminine men (and by extension, women) are devalued in
much the same way that they are in heterosexual contexts.
The studio staff construct a local form of hegemonic masculinity by drawing upon the
gender and racial tropes of regional hegemonic masculinities. They pull from these tropes in the
service of “capital logic” (Hossfeld 1992), i.e. strategies to increase profit maximization, and
enforce these tropes in ways that privilege and reward certain bodies and peoples. This includes
specific requirements of a masculine body, including youth, musculature, height, and a large
penis. Performers, in turn, can use these attributes as bodily capital to obtain employment and
potentially negotiate for higher pay. What, however, are the implications of these practices and
the characteristics that they privilege beyond the local? From Behind Films produces adult
entertainment that is distributed to – given their longevity and presence in the industry – a
53
reasonably large consumer base (and even larger when pirated content is taken into
consideration). Is this, then, productive of a regional form of hegemonic masculinity? Connell &
Messerschmidt’s (2005) original formulation of regional hegemonic masculinities contends that
it is those masculinities that are “constructed at the society-wide level of culture,” yet little work
has expanded upon this definition which can assume a cultural singularity of which all members
in a society are aware (e.g. feature film actors, professional athletes, and politicians). I argue,
however, that regional hegemonic masculinities, do not have to be produced through and
represented within cultural images targeting all members of a society or nation-state, but can also
exist within cultural products aimed at subordinated groups. The masculinity tropes produced by
From Behind Films are drawn from regional forms and reconstituted at the local level, where
they construct local gender and racial hierarchies that in turn circulate back to targeted regional
markets of sexual, racial, and class minorities.
I suggest that researchers interested in explicating the mutually constitutive nature of
regional and local hegemonic masculinities would be well-served by studying not only the local
forms, as this study has done, but also by incorporating content analysis of products once
disseminated, and examining audience reception that looks not only at the multiple meanings
consumers pull from the product, and the product’s position relative to similar products
consumed by consumers (Hall 2010). Combining each of these perspectives offers the most
theoretical insight into the mutually constitutive nature of local and regional gender hegemonies.
At From Behind Films, for example, all of the elements present in the local hegemonic
masculinity they produce do not transfer to the product they disseminate (e.g. punctuality and a
professional demeanor). Thus, understanding local hegemonic masculinities’ reciprocal relation
to regional hegemonies would be improved by a systematic analysis of how themes in their
54
products reinforce a hierarchical structure between masculinity and femininity. The practices in
which From Behind Films engage produce a product which privileges a specific form of
masculinity over others and over femininity. In this regard, I argue that the local hegemonic
masculinity constructed by From Behind Films may influence regional forms of hegemonic
masculinity in how it is taken up by consumers. This, in turn, becomes material from which
other, future local forms can be constructed. As demonstrated by this study, these practices
reproduce gender and racial hierarchies that have direct material and labor consequences. This
calls us to consider how the differential appraisal of performers according to their approximation
of regional hegemonic masculinity fosters both sexist and racist practices in the adult film
industry, the subsequent economic impacts for performers who do not closely approximate these
qualities, and the ramifications this may have upon consumers. In the next chapter, I elaborate
upon my ethnographic data at From Behind Films and place it in conversation with survey data
of performers’ labor experiences in the broader adult film industry. In doing so, I contextualize
the patterns identified at From Behind Films, and theorize their implications for performers’
labor conditions and the products generated through their labor.

55
Chapter 4 - Intimate Commodities: Intimate Labor and the Production and Circulation of
Inequality

In her conceptualization of intimate labor, Ariel Ducey (2010) argues that technology can
facilitate the ability to affect others and to be affected. That is, material objects mediate intimate
labor and intimate ties. This mediation is a result of the concomitant increase in heightened
individualization and orientation toward objects as ‘sources of the self, of relationship intimacy,
or shared subjectivity, and of social integration’ (Cetina 1997:12). Individuals therefore draw
upon material objects in order to constitute a sense of self, but also to establish and pattern
relationships with others. Scholars of intimacy have therefore called for a reconceptualization of
what types of relationships are considered social and intimate, as well as how they are structured.
The objects which mediate or facilitate intimate ties may simply be mundane technologies – as in
the case of medical equipment (Ducey 2010) – while others are encoded by the conditions and
processes of the intimate labor which construct it; I term these ‘intimate commodities.’ This
chapter develops this concept using data from the gay adult film industry, and is divided into
three main sections: in the first, I conceptualize intimate commodities and outline how they are
generated within intimate labor by drawing from participant observation at a gay adult film
production studio. I demonstrate how this labor is stratified, and how this labor generates the
intimate commodity of pornography. Second, using both ethnographic and survey data of 391
men performers in the gay adult film industry, I demonstrate the stratified nature of adult
entertainment labor to discuss how these inequalities can become encoded in the intimate
commodities generated through intimate labor. These data provide the theoretical jumping-off
point to discuss the implications for the circulation of intimate commodities, in the third section,
which concludes with a discussion of what labor stratification means in the context of intimate
56
commodities and intimate labor. While the data in this paper focuses upon aspects of production,
the discussion theorizes how the concept of intimate commodities contributes to existing theories
of production, circulation and consumption, labor, and inequality.

Intimate Labor
Intimacy has been conceived of by network analysts as those ‘primary’ relationships
central to the lives of individuals – such as family, friends, and confidants (Hoyt and Babchuk
1983). Yet, as labor scholars have demonstrated, a great deal of intimacy occurs between
individuals who may not know each other and have no enduring ties (Boris and Parreñas 2010;
Constable 2009). Both lines of reasoning imply that these ties, whether temporary or enduring,
have the connotation of being physically or emotionally close, private, sexually intimate, or
caring (Constable 2009). In economic terms, labor that includes these characteristics has been
conceived of as reproductive labor (Federici 2006), emotional or affective labor (Hardt 1999;
Hochschild 1983), and intimate labor (Boris and Parreñas 2010)
vi
. My discussion focuses on
intimate labor, which is defined as work that may entail touch, bodily or emotional closeness, or
personal familiarity and ultimately produces knowledge that is not widely known about the
consumer (Boris and Parreñas 2010; Zelizer 2000). These elements can be easily seen in the
labor of adult film performers, who must be physically and sexually intimate with their
coworkers, maintain levels of privacy for themselves and their on-screen colleagues as to their
off-stage identities (so as to appeal sufficiently to fans while protecting their private lives to the
extent desired), and engage in emotional labor to create a convincing performance of emotional
closeness.
57
Intimate labor, as with emotional and affective labor, exists under the umbrella of
‘immaterial labor’ (Fortunati 2007; Hardt and Negri 2000), that is, work which does not produce
a material good, but which generates a service, knowledge, or communication. Theorists of
immaterial labor (see, for example, Hardt 1999) have conceptualized immaterial labor as distinct
from productive labor, which produces material objects, such as the work performed by artisans,
machinists, engineers and scientists (Marx 1977). This divide, I contend, is not as exact as it
appears; immaterial and material labor overlap. I argue that some forms of immaterial labor do
generate goods and thus there are ways in which immaterial labor materializes. The labor of
surrogates, for example, generate the ‘good’ of children through their immaterial labor (Briggs
2010). Wedding planners must perform a great deal of intimate labor with their clients while
engaging with and producing the goods of ambiance, memories, aesthetic pleasure, and
decorations for the clients’ wedding (Hochschild 2012). Personal shoppers must know the
desires and tastes of their clients and subsequently generate wardrobes and accessories. Wedding
photographers capture some of the most intimate moments of their clients lives that then become
tangible and are shared and displayed. Personal chefs utilize the intimate knowledge of their
clients’ tastes and diet requirements to elicit pleasure and nutrition through the material good of
food. Finally, wet-nurses’ intimate, immaterial labor has become commoditized into productive
labor as women now produce and sell their breast milk to other families.
While not all immaterial labor generates material objects, much does, and many are then
traded or sold as commodities, such as pornography. Commodities, Appadurai (1986) argues, are
connected to two social forms of knowledge – the knowledge of production (e.g. the technical,
social and aesthetic conditions) that composes its creation, and the knowledge that goes into its
informed, consumption. Intimate labor and intimate economies
vii
generate public goods and
58
services, such as pornography, but do so under a veil that conceals the conditions of their
production. This obfuscation operates, in part, to maintain the understanding of intimacy and
monetary exchange as either ‘hostile worlds’ or ‘nothing but’ market transactions, rather than as
differentiated ties
viii
, thereby obscuring the exchange dynamics and creating problematic
conditions for the consumption of intimate commodities (Zelizer 2000).
The dynamics of intimate labor are further complicated by the increased opportunity for
labor exploitation, which arises from two key elements of intimate labor. First, intimate labor
such as housekeeping, massage therapy, personal assistantship or sex work is more often
performed in private. It is therefore less often surveilled or performed publicly than is non-
intimate labor (Boris and Parreñas 2010). Second, because intimate labor is assumed to be more
personal, it allows employers to add tasks or increase expectations without commensurate
compensation, which employees are expected to perform out of a sense of loyalty, love, or duty
(Hondagneu-Sotelo 2002; Ibarra 2010). Therefore, obtaining a clearer understanding of the
connections between the two forms of knowledge attached to commodities (e.g. knowledge of its
production and knowledge of appropriate consumption) is essential for understanding how the
conditions of production circulate, and the processes and impacts of consumption. This chapter
therefore explores the connections between intimate labor and the structures that organize it.

Intimate commodities
The materialities generated through intimate labor, which I term intimate commodities,
have four key attributes: First, they are generated in conjunction with the intimacy produced by
intimate labor. Second, they are actual material commodities that are then traded or sold, alone or
in conjunction with other material items. Third, they may be encoded with elements of their
59
production. Fourth, through their use, they generate intimate ties for consumers. These intimate
ties may be between the individual and another person or a group, an individual and the object,
or the individual and themselves, in the sense that they can assist in constituting a sense of self.
Gametes, for example, are an intimate commodity. Gamete donation –conceived of as
intimate in the sense of being an embodied or affective interaction in the service of social
reproduction (Glenn 1992) – socially and technologically produces the material object of an egg
or sperm which is then banked, sold or traded through various agencies (Almeling 2010). Whose
gametes are viable for donation and desired for purchase is structured by race and ethnicity,
class, gender, education, and the body (Almeling 2010; Golden and Daniels 2004). Finally,
through their combination, these gametes may result in the achievement of parenthood for
individuals utilizing assisted reproductive technologies. This constitutes an intimate tie between
those individuals and the newly created child. The stratification of whose gametes are desired
has consequences for the intimate ties individuals form with each other through their use as a
commodity.
It is the third and fourth elements of intimate commodities – the conditions of their
production that may be encoded into the commodities themselves, as well as the ties they
facilitate –that I focus upon in this chapter. I argue that commodities – particularly intimate
commodities due to the less-surveilled nature of their production – require further exploration in
order to understand the impacts of structural labor inequality. These intimate commodities
cannot be separated from the conditions under which they are created. Under capitalism, many
commodities are produced within unequal conditions, yet intimate labor offers greater
opportunity for the obfuscation of inequality. Intimate commodities therefore have greater
potential to be encoded with inequality and to perpetuate or cultivate inequality through their
60
use. As we continue to identify forms of intimate labor and the structures that organize it, we
must also attend to the intimate commodities generated by this labor and the ways in which they
organize the intimate ties generated by their use. The use of intimate commodities is one
moment in a chain of intimacy – production, distribution, and consumption – and due to the
concealed nature of intimate labor, each moment has the potential to perpetuate inequality both
individually and in connection with each other (Zukin and Maguire 2004). I interrogate these
dynamics through an exploration of the stratification of the adult film industry.

Labor inequality in pornography
Adult Video News (AVN) reported that in 2006, the industry generated nearly thirteen
billion dollars in revenue, exceeding that of the Hollywood film industry by close to four billion
dollars (Adult Video News Editors 2007; Tibbals 2013). While Los Angeles County houses a
great deal of the U.S. industry’s production and estimates that roughly 6,000 performers live in
the county (Center for Disease Control 2005), adult talent lives globally with tremendous influx
and efflux of workers, and little is known about the demographics and labor experiences of these
workers. Globalization can obscure the inequalities present in labor (Appadurai 1996; Gauchat,
Kelly, and Wallace 2012; Morris and Western 1999), and as the production and consumption of
pornography transcends the lines of nation state, pornographic performers constitute an
insufficiently understood global labor force.
Understanding sex work as work offers tremendous insight into both sexual and non-
sexual labor. Approaching sex work in this way allows us to understand the economic patterns in
society which pull people into sex work and structure their experiences within the industry
(Collins 2006; Weitzer 2009). Workplace inequality shapes the experience of laborers, which I
61
contend may subsequently become encoded into intimate commodities. Thus, it is crucial to
understand how intimate labor is structured. How this labor is stratified along lines of race, class,
gender, and sexuality are inadequately understood for two primary reasons: academic debates
over the exploitative nature of pornography which redirect attention away from labor conditions
ix

and the ‘precarious’ nature of sexual labor – that is, its non-unionized, non-protected status
(Kalleberg 2009; Tibbals 2012).
Most of what we know about the labor processes of sexual labor is informed by research
at the interactional level, as I explored in the previous chapter – the kinds of work in which
individuals select to engage, how they encounter and manage workplace discrimination, and their
satisfaction with that work. Entering into sex work, for example, requires participants to develop
strategies to maintain involvement in the industry, combat stigmatization, navigate legality, and
plan avenues for future income. Abbott’s (2000) respondents cited reasons for entering the porn
industry as money, fame, freedom and independence, opportunity (by creating oneself as a
‘brand’), and challenging sexual norms. Scholarly attention to sex work has rarely approached it
from macro perspectives that attend to the structures within which individuals engage in sexual
labor (Voss 2012). Therefore we know little about hiring processes, wage inequalities and the
everyday working experiences of individuals engaged in legalized forms of sex work, all of
which are enmeshed within organizational processes and varied workplace ideologies (Weitzer
2009). How, for example, the structure of the adult film industry shapes individuals’ workplace
experiences, especially in a rapidly changing technological age, remains to be adequately
explored. Because intimate commodities are inextricably connected to the labor conditions under
which they are generated, analyzing these labor conditions is essential in order to understand
how inequality is maintained or challenged in each moment of a commodity’s production and
62
consumption. The qualitative findings from this study are drawn from my participant-observation
data at From Behind Films and from my interviews with performers and studio staff.

Survey Methodology
Because the adult film industry is a decentralized, non-unionized industry with
tremendous in and outflow of workers, obtaining a representative sample of performers is
unlikely. The survey was distributed primarily through an adult talent agency that was kind
enough to distribute the survey to their clients. The agency has been known as one of the premier
agencies in the gay adult film industry for over a decade and manages some of the foremost
names in the industry.
The survey was designed in collaboration with numerous workers in the adult film
industry and with feminist scholars of pornography who assisted in the design of the questions.
Respondents were asked about the length of time they have worked in adult film, the number of
studios they have worked with, the number of scenes they film on average per month, the sex of
their scene partners, the role they play in their scenes, their average, maximum and minimum pay
per scene, other kinds of sex work in which they may engage, and questions on job satisfaction
taken from the General Social Survey (GSS) in addition to basic demographic information such
as their age, location, education, race, sexual and gender identity. Of the 391 men who completed
the survey, the overwhelming majority were white (n=227), with Latino as the second largest
group (n=74) and Black men as the third (n=56). The small remainder identified as Asian (n=4),
declined to state, or listed themselves as ‘other,’ which a few clarified as indicating mixed-race
status. The descriptive statistics presented in this chapter are simple mean comparisons that
provide preliminary findings of labor inequality in adult film. Future studies using broader,
63
representative data sets and advanced analyses will be necessary for comprehensive
understandings of the significance of these patterns.

Pornography as intimate labor
Pornographic work can be understood as intimate labor as it involves both sexual labor
and intimate touch:
Sky was on his knees in the shower, fellating David whose hand was on his stomach as he
looked down at Sky. David said, ‘There you go. That's it boy. Suck that dick. You like that?
All the way down.’ Sky moved his way up David’s body, kissing his stomach and biting his
nipples before the two engaged in a few minutes of passionate kissing.

As pornography is both scripted and directed, the authenticity of this intimacy could
come under question. Employees may find that their true feelings are at odds with the
requirements of their roles and engage in ‘deep acting’ in order to actively modify the degree or
quality of an emotion (Hochschild 1979, 1983). By my assessment, some actors did engage in
display acts of intimacy (e.g. ‘surface acting’), though this occurred only when one actor did not
identify as a man attracted to men. Thus, while not every scene involves an authentic intimate
connection (i.e. sexual, physical, or emotional attraction) between the performers, many do.
Some performers engaged in ‘deep acting’ in order to elicit an intimate, emotional connection.
These periods of emotional connection between performers may be a form of ‘bounded
authenticity’ (Bernstein 2007b) as they appeared authentic, but limited by the time constraints of
the production and the context of paid sexual labor. For other performers, these connections
occurred independent of the ‘work’ periods in filming:
64

Bobby, the director, yelled, ‘Cut! When we start filming again, Jake suck his cock for 10
seconds, and then I want you to stand up and kiss him.’ Bobby and the filming assistant
walked out of the room and I began to follow. As I walked off set, I observed Danny and
Jake continue to kiss each other, fellate each other, and mutually masturbate each other.
They smiled and appeared to be flirting with each other. When we returned to set a few
minutes later, they were still intimately touching each other and kissing.

The spillover of Danny and Jake’s erotic touch led to an expedient shoot, at the end of
which the director shouted, ‘Cut! Fantastic!’ While this intimate connection between the
performers can be faked by the editing process, authentic connections expedite production. When
this intimate connection was not present, it created problems for the studio:

Bobby reentered the casting office and pushed the door to almost closed and said in a low
voice, ‘I don't think Max is into it…’ and trailed off as Max appeared in the doorway,
saying, ‘do you have the shot?’ [referring to Trimix, the erectile injection drug] Samuel
jumped up to administer the shot. When he returned, Bobby said, ‘the energy in there is
so weird…’ I asked why, and he replied, ‘That’s why he wants the shot… I’m trying to
tiptoe around it… they’re not into each other at all.’

As scholars of pornography have noted, the effectiveness of pornography rests on its
ability to convince the viewer that the sex is ‘real.’ For men performers, this is demonstrated
through the ‘authenticity’ of erections and orgasms (Escoffier 2003). With regard to production,
65
when this authenticity was absent–such as when performers regularly lost erections or were
unable to orgasm as in the case of Max, above–it creates significantly more work for producers
(additional production hours) and editors who have to splice together convincing shots into one
coherent scene. This intimate connection between performers, or ‘chemistry’ as producers often
referred to it, became a resource to producers as it allowed them to produce expedient shoots and
films that they referred to as ‘exceptional.’ Chemistry is constituted both through the labor of
performers who engage in a great deal of bodily care, and through producers who leverage their
intimate knowledge of performer’s scene partner preferences.
Performing in pornography requires a great deal of bodily care, a form of ‘invisible labor’
(Daniels 1987; Wichroski 1994). Aside from the bodily labor that performers must engage in
outside of the studio, such as nutrition and physical fitness, a great deal of hygiene and body
maintenance is involved during and immediately prior to production. While assisting on set one
day I got lubricant on my hands after handing a bottle to a performer, and went to the set
bathroom to wash my hands. While there, I noted all of the products that the studio makes
available to its performers to make them presentable for filming. There were several hair clippers
for both body and face, shaving cream and razors, many sticks of deodorant, several hand
sanitizers, makeup, a douche attachment in the shower and several handheld douches. The
studio staff must monitor the bodily care of the performers to ensure a clean, safe, and efficient
shoot:

While signing paperwork, Samuel, the casting agent, asked Benjamin, ‘Do you need to
clean out?’ Benjamin replied, ‘I did, but I can again.’ Samuel asked, ‘Do you want the
shower enema or...’ and Benjamin said, ‘the little monkey douche.’
66

From this excerpt, we can see that monitoring the cleanliness of performer’s bodies is a
component of the intimate labor and necessary for the constitution of ‘chemistry.’ If a performer
who is slated to bottom
x
in a scene is not adequately clean, it could create a potentially
unpleasant or unsafe experience for their scene partner, disrupt the shoot, or ruin the final
product. The studio staff must also monitor this bodily labor to ensure not only that it is
performed, but that it is performed correctly:

Samuel handed the performer a razor to shave and sent him into the bathroom, asking if
he has shaving cream. While the performer was shaving in the bathroom, Steve entered the
casting office and Samuel said, ‘He’s in there shaving’ to which Steve replied, ‘Just the
face though, no pubes!’

These bodily care acts occur during filming as well. During one shoot the performers
regularly asked me for paper towels to clean themselves up, and to clean excess lubricant off the
couch. At several shoots, performers who were bottoming excused themselves to the bathroom
to douche again and to clean themselves with moist towelettes. These practices exist to foster
chemistry and to expedite production.
In addition to the sexual and bodily care work entailed in pornographic labor, this work
includes the possession of ‘information not widely known to third persons’ (Boris and Parreñas
2010:11; Zelizer 2005:14). This includes three key aspects of the work processes: knowledge of
performer’s personal sexual identities, negotiation of sexual acts, and discussion of sexual
67
preferences, all of which are necessary to facilitate an intimate connection between performers
and the intimate commodity of pornography.

Intimate knowledge in pornography
In pornography, as with other forms of intimate labor, the work involved must remain
concealed, minimized, or invisible (Duffy 2007; Parreñas 2011; Reese 2010). Pornography is a
performance of pleasure, sometimes simulated, sometimes not, yet all of the work involved
remains primarily invisible to consumers, including knowledge of the performers’ intimate lives
and identities. While studios are privy to performers’ sexual identities, this information is not
uniformly disclosed to consumers. Gay and bisexual men are portrayed as heterosexual, and
straight men, due to the higher pay of performing in gay pornography, are often portrayed as gay
(for a review, see Escoffier 2003). This withholding of information, in part, constitutes
pornography as a ‘fantasy’ product, one that viewers can insert themselves into. Film scholars
have noted, for example, that there are a number of institutional settings or contexts that can
occur which allow men to engage in same-sex sexual activities while still being understood as
heterosexual. Such as in all-male settings with no access to women partners, or in economic
settings such as paid sexual labor. In pornographic films, gay-for-pay performers often limit the
sexual acts in which they will engage (e.g. not bottoming or performing oral sex on another man)
in order to maintain a public heterosexual identity (Bozelka 2013; Cante and Restivo 2004;
Escoffier 2003; Stadler 2013).
The knowledge of a performer’s sexual identity is sometimes critical to producers as it
can impact the labor process. While I reviewed performer submissions with the casting assistant,
he said, ‘ugh, he’s gay for pay.’ I asked why this mattered and he replied, ‘It’s rare that there’s a
68
good gay-for-pay actor,’ and continued to explain the importance of intimate connection between
the performers. ‘Some actors prefer not to be cast with straight guys … it just makes the
chemistry harder,’ he clarified. When the studio is able to cast two gay-identified performers
who are attracted to each other, this increases the likelihood of a quality, expedient production,
as was shown during one visit to the studio:
The shoot was going very quickly, we had gone through several sexual positions in only a
matter of twenty minutes. I noticed that the energy was high and both performers and staff
seemed to be enjoying themselves, as there were smiles and laughter often during breaks
in filming. During one break, David, one of the performers, states, ‘This is why I try not to
work with straight guys… there's this whole disconnect they just don't know how to [enema]
and there's the kissing… as a performer I can tell the difference.’

When the studio staff are unable to produce this kind of connection between performers,
it can cause a number of issues, such as conflicts between performers and delays in production,
as evidenced from an earlier shoot:
The studio owner asked his production assistant how things were going on set, to which
the assistant replied that the heterosexual actor was having a really hard time orgasming
after over an hour of trying to do so. The studio owner then turned to me and said, ‘I guess
he really is straight.’
This was one of the few shoots I attended with a straight performer, and while most shoots
averaged between one and three hours, this one took close to seven, several hours of which
involved the staff waiting for the heterosexual performer to reach orgasm. During these times,
the staff and I gave the performer privacy by leaving the room, and numerous times staff
69
members suggested cancelling the shoot altogether because of how poorly it was going. As
Escoffier (2003) notes, the effectiveness of pornography for the consumer comes from its ability
to satisfy the expectation that the sex is ‘plausibly ‘real’ in some way’ and that it allows for ‘the
suspension of disbelief in pornography’s fictional character’ (536). The editing process allows
backstage information such as this to remain hidden from consumers (Goffman 1959).
In addition to the knowledge of performers’ sexual identities, the processes of negotiation
involved in pornographic performance are also not shared with third parties. I observed
producers negotiate the progress of sexual positions, who would penetrate whom, which
furniture was most comfortable for performers to utilize, and whether they were comfortable
with an oral cumshot. These kinds of negotiation also took place between the performers, where
they discussed and indicated their sexual preferences to each other during shoots:
‘You want to ride it?’ Aric asked his scene partner, Damian, while waving his erection at
him. Damian responded, ‘I'd prefer to go on my back if that's okay with you.’
As evidenced by these data, performing in pornography is a form of intimate labor in
several regards: it involves bodily care and sexual labor, produces a sense of intimacy between
the performers as well as between the performers and the producers, and produces intimate
knowledge that is not widely known to third parties. What is less explored is the economic
structuring of the industry, how this shapes the labor experiences of performers, and how this
stratification becomes encoded in the commodities that emerge out of it.

Structural factors of employment stratification
The hierarchies within which intimate commodities are generated have significance for
whether and how hierarchies are perpetuated or challenged in each subsequent moment of
70
circulation and consumption. The labor market is a hierarchical field which privileges white,
cisgendered, heterosexual, able-bodied, middle and upper-middle class, educated men (Charles
and Grusky 2004; Jacobs and Gerson 2004; Kanter 1977; Williams 1992; Wingfield 2009,
2013). Therefore, the employment experiences of those outside of these categories are impacted
in numerous ways that intersect and influence each other. Lower wages, lower mobility, less
respect, less job security, and reduced access to employment for various groups of workers are
some of the byproducts of the segregation of the labor market (Charles and Grusky 2004).
According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (2012), among both men and women,
Hispanics and Blacks had considerably lower earnings than Asians and whites and typically
work in underpaid fields. The ‘hypersegregation’ of the labor market by race, gender, class, and
sexuality shapes the life chances and experiences of countless women and men (Bobbitt-Zeher
2011; Browne and Misra 2003; Charles and Grusky 2004; Kanter 1977), and despite gains in
access to employment by women, people of color and minority sexuality groups, the segregation
of the labor market stubbornly endures. Both my qualitative and quantitative data are some of the
first to demonstrate the connections between these broader economic trends and the stratification
of the adult film industry. Because racial hierarchies shape the constitution of commodities,
intimate commodities provide a window into existing racial stratification.
Racialized hierarchies of desire emerged during my year of observation in the gay adult
film industry in both overt and covert manners. Performers’ races were rarely discussed, with the
exception of Black and Asian performers. While reviewing submissions, the casting director
would regularly inform me of the undesirability of these men: ‘Asians don’t do well, they’re not
big sellers … Asians, Black guys, they do better in niche sites.’ Latino men’s ethnicity, by
contrast, was only discussed in context of ‘Latin lover’ or ‘spicy’ tropes, and otherwise was
71
ignored both during the casting process and in the final product where they often passed as white
(Ortiz 1994). The casting director explicitly discussed racism in pornography during our
interview:
Casting Agent: It's weird though, because there isn't as much diversity as you would
think there is. And a lot of the guys that fit into different races tend to
go to the sites that are more niched towards those races.

Interviewer: So, the more mainstream stuff is more white?

Casting Agent: I'd say so… a lot of people would say so… There's this thing about
racism in porn. I mean, we have to ask if someone's willing to work
with a Black person before we even pair them up, you know? In my
opinion, who fucking cares? Like, if you're being paid, you should
fuck a watermelon if you have to. If I'm paying you to do it, just do it.

From this interview excerpt we can see that producers of mainstream gay pornography
are aware of the racial inequality in pornography, respond to, and reproduce it, and displace the
responsibility for this phenomenon onto consumers or scene partners. These actions have an
impact upon the quantity and quality of intimate commodities produced by the gay adult film
industry. There are both numerically fewer products featuring men of color outside of ‘niche’
commodities, and the inherent message in those films may fetishize men of color. Given the
trends in broader fields of labor and in my ethnographic data, it would be reasonable to expect
that we would find these patterns represented through broader structural inequalities in the adult
72
film industry. Intimate commodities such as pornography, as I have discussed, are often
generated within forms of precarious labor which are less open to surveillance and thus have
greater potential for labor exploitation.

Stratification of intimate labor and intimate commodities
My ethnographic findings demonstrate how the labor of performers in pornography is a
form of intimate labor, and show that this labor is racially stratified. I now turn to my survey data
in order to demonstrate how these findings are representative of broader trends and then discuss
how these trends may impact the circulation and utilization of the commodities produced. The
findings from this study offer some of the first quantitative data of the labor experiences of men
working in adult film.
In this survey, I focus primarily on Black, Latino, and white men as they constitute the
three largest groups of respondents, and discuss their relative pay rates, satisfaction in
employment, and plans to continue working in pornography. The survey data provides evidence
of the differential worth given to racialized bodies, and how these broader processes shape the
production of intimate commodities. Across racial groups, respondents reported a mean income
of just over six hundred dollars per scene, as shown in Table 1.

73
TABLE 1
Distribution of Income by Race
Mean Scene Pay Mean Scenes Per
Month
Mean Yearly Income
Race
All Races 588.91 5.11 36,088.61
Latino 579.83 4.91 34,674.42
Black 574.33 4.63 34,306.08
White 612.58 5.78 42,488.55
Note: All pay figures reported are in U.S. Dollars

In addition to reporting their average scenes per month and average pay per scene,
performers were also asked to evaluate their satisfaction working in adult film and likelihood to
continue working in adult film in the next year. These questions were evaluated using a Likert
scale ranging from Not at all satisfied / Not at all likely to Very satisfied / Very likely. Table 2
shows the mean satisfaction and reported likelihood that they will continue working in adult
entertainment in the next year. The patterns in satisfaction and reported likelihood to continue
are consistent with those in income. Overall, respondents reported relatively high levels of
satisfaction and likelihood to continue working in the adult film industry. This is expected given
that these men are most often working at higher levels of the adult film industry. However, white
and Latino respondents reported the greatest satisfaction and highest estimation of likelihood to
continue, while Black respondents reported much lower averages.

74
TABLE 2
Satisfaction and Likelihood to Continue by Race
Mean Satisfaction Mean Likelihood to Continue
Race
All Races 4.45 2.88
Latino 4.63 2.97
Black 4.26 2.67
White 4.43 2.90
Note: Satisfaction evaluated on a scale from 1 to 5. 5= Very satisfied, 1= Not at all satisfied.
Likelihood to continue working in adult entertainment evaluated on a scale from 1 to 3. 3 = Very
likely, 1 = Not at all likely.

The distribution of income, satisfaction, and plans to continue in adult film occurred as
expected
xi
. Standard ordinary least squares (OLS) regression analysis revealed that these
differences narrowly missed statistical significance, yet their agreement with my ethnographic
findings suggests that in a larger, representative sample size, these findings would reach
statistical significance. Black and Latino respondents receive comparable pay per scene, yet
obtain fewer scenes per month than their white counterparts. Per year, this adds up to
approximately eight thousand dollars less in income. The relatively high levels of job satisfaction
for white respondents – at roughly the midpoint between ‘somewhat’ and ‘very satisfied’ – is
logical given their higher pay levels. Similarly, Black respondents’ mean satisfaction, which was
much closer to ‘somewhat’ satisfied, is expected given their reduced frequency of obtaining
work and therefore lower annual income. Given my qualitative data, I expect that had a sufficient
75
quantity of Asian respondents participated in the study, their mean pay, satisfaction, and plans to
continue in adult film would have closely approximated those of Black respondents. Overall,
these findings paint a picture of a working experience for Black and Latino men that is less
monetarily lucrative, consistent or available, and satisfying than for that of their white
counterparts. These findings have implications not only for scholars who explore the material
conditions of labor of men working in adult film, but also for understanding how these
conditions structure the quantity and quality of pornography featuring men of color, and the
intimate ties that may be formed through the consumption of this intimate commodity. These
patterns again suggest that not only are there fewer opportunities for men of color to appear in
adult film, but that the quality of their work experience is lower than for white performers. In the
context of the commodities that arise out of these conditions, consumers have less opportunity to
obtain gay adult content that centers the erotic lives of men of color, and less opportunity to
purchase content that provides men of color with comparable working conditions to their white
counterparts.
Both the qualitative and quantitative findings from my data are consistent with research
that demonstrates the racialized economy of desire in pornography (Bernardi 2006; Mercer 2003;
Miller-Young 2010; Nguyen 2004; Parreñas Shimizu 2010), though these findings are some of
the first to demonstrate their broader economic implications. Performers of color in pornography
are simultaneously fetishized, yet shunted into ‘niche’ pornography, potentially explaining their
similar pay levels, yet fewer scenes per month – they are used as a kind of ‘spice’ within scenes
(hooks 1992:21), as ‘a cipher for an unbridled sexuality’ (Ortiz 1994). Nguyen (2004) and Fung
(1999) note that these discourses are predicated on biological assumptions of racialized sexual
differences. As these race and pornography scholars have noted, it is not necessarily the
76
racialized eroticization that is troublesome, but the recurring sameness of the images, their
connection with real social conditions, and the assumptions underlying these fantasies that are
problematic. Ortiz (1994) notes that the narratives of pornography featuring men of color provide
at least some visibility for men of color consumers to see faces and bodies like their own, yet
often construct ‘otherness’ through hegemonic views of Black, Latino, and Asian cultures. Thus
in the context of intimate commodities, where individuals are using these materials to construct
senses of self, relationship intimacy, and social integration, they may continue to do so in ways
that privilege whiteness and white culture, and bolster monolithic, one-dimensional, and
stereotypical depictions of other racial groups.
While scholars have considered the implications for recurrent racialized tropes in
pornography with regard to audience reception, my ethnographic and survey data demonstrate
the real world economic conditions of these enduring racial narratives. At the upper-echelons of
the gay adult film industry, Black and Latino men lose out on thousands of dollars annually as a
result of these tropes, and Asian men may experience similar disadvantage. The consequences of
this racial stratification are significant. Miller-Young (2010) notes in her ethnographic work on
Black female performers that racial discrimination and stratification within the adult film
industry undercut the potential for interracial alliances between performers. In an industry where
there is very little institutional support for workers, factors such as this that prevent performers
from supporting each other have severe repercussions not only for the success, occupational
stability, and satisfaction of workers, but for the commodities that arise out of this intimate labor.
The pornographic film, as well as multiple forms of intimacy – performer/producer or
performer/performer – emerge in tandem as part of its production. The intimacy that exists
between producers and performers, and between the performers themselves serves to facilitate
77
the commodity’s expedient and presumably superior production quality. When these elements
are lacking, however, the editing process can attempt to replicate this chemistry or ‘magic’ in
order to expedite the product’s distribution and consumption. Throughout each facet of intimate
commodities, pornography is embedded with racial inequality as Black, Latino, and I postulate
Asian, performers receive fewer scenes on average. Therefore, their prevalence as desirable
peoples is significantly less. Objects – in this instance, pornography – have an ‘emotional-
sensorial meaning’ and are consumed because of emotional motivations (Illouz Forthcoming). If
pornography is an ‘education of desire’ as Dyer (1984) posits, then pornography is an intimate
commodity that may educate unequally.

Conclusion – intimate commodities and consumption
Despite the seemingly private nature of intimate labor, it is institutionally structured. If
we overlook the ways in which intimate labor is structured, we risk the inequalities present in the
labor value of these intimate commodities being unequally structured. If we do not interrogate
these processes, we risk the uninformed consumption of intimate commodities perpetuating
inequalities and, if embedded in the commodities themselves, legitimating their spread beyond
the production and consumption of the commodity (Benjamin and Tlusten 2010; Poulsen, Busby,
and Galovan 2013). Given that an increasing number of couples report that they do and would
view adult content together as a means to construct intimacy between themselves, it is worth
considering the meanings consumers pull from such intimate commodities and their subsequent
implications (Benjamin and Tlusten 2010; Olmstead et al. 2013). Cross-national studies
comparing gender equality in heterosexual pornography, for example, have found that countries
with higher levels of gender egalitarianism, such as Norway, produce pornography that portrays
78
women in more empowered positions than in the United States (Arakawa, Flanders, and Hatfield
2012). The intimate commodities produced within these contexts may both mirror and provide
material for the reproduction of such gender and racial regimes. Therefore, attending to both the
production and circulation of intimate commodities provides insight into the current state of and
possibility for changing modes of inequality. Exploring the inequality regimes (Acker 2006)
within intimate labor – pornography, in this example – provides us, as scholars, and as
consumers with a ‘set of conventions for interpreting’ the commodities that are generated within
them (Rubin 1993:22). I argue that understanding the production of intimate commodities
provides consumers with a required knowledge as to whether these commodities are ‘fair trade’
(Taormino 2013) as well as the skills to challenge dominant images and messages within the
commodities themselves.
This chapter foregrounds intimate commodities, focusing on the labor required to
produce them and the processes of their construction. Intimate commodities, as a concept, has
three implications for research on labor and consumption. First, it dismantles the binary of
productive and reproductive/immaterial labor. As intimate commodities reveal, there are forms
of immaterial labor that generate goods as a primary or secondary commodity. Therefore,
intimate commodities expose that there are ways in which immaterial labor produces material
commodities. Second, it emphasizes the production of service work, thus advancing the literature
on immaterial labor and the distinction of such labor from material labor. This calls for us to
reconceptualize the value associated with immaterial, feminized labor. Finally, it provides a
window into inequality, and insight into the means of its dismantling, as it requires that we attend
to the ‘life histories’ of commodities (Appadurai 1986). This allows us to see the ways in which
knowledge distribution impacts patterns of consumption. I conclude with a discussion of how
79
attending to the consumption of intimate commodities offers potential for the dismantling of
inequality.
Politics links value and exchange in the social life of commodities, yet it is the
routinization of this exchange that obfuscates its political nature. The circulation of commodities,
Appadurai (1986) argues, would not be possible were it not for a set of agreements of what is
desirable; these agreements legitimize relations of privilege and social control. Intimate
commodities, which facilitate intimate relations through their consumption, may for example,
propagate racially biased relations between consumers and their intimate partners, or legitimate
internalized biases. Intersectional approaches to the study of the labor market posit that dominant
groups control the means of production and major social institutions, and leverage those to
‘promulgate legitimizing ideologies that make social inequalities appear natural’ (Browne and
Misra 2003 quoting; Sidanius and Pratto 1999) thus the enduring stratification of intimate and
cultural commodities such as pornography appear to be natural. That intimate commodities, such
as pornography, are in fact stratified through their production and are subsequently encoded with
inequality bears consideration as to how this influences the intimate ties that these commodities
facilitate. In contrast to anti-pornography feminist arguments for censorship of pornography, I
contend that informed consumption and awareness of labor conditions are means to achieve
equity. Indeed, anti-censorship feminists note that it is our “visual illiteracy” upon which pro-
censorship and patriarchal camps prey upon in deploying problematic images as the norm or
standard (Vance 1984).
Intimate commodities are one moment in a chain of production, circulation,
distribution/consumption, and reproduction (Hall 2010). These moments in the production chain
can be productive of inequality, as we increasingly rely upon objects for the constitution of a
80
sense of self (Ducey 2010), and there can be no consumption if there is no meaning taken (Hall
2010). As Illouz (Forthcoming) notes, consumption provides access to racialized and gendered
scripts, ‘inscribed and displayed in the very process of consumption’ and subsequently to the
enactment of identities. Those who wish to achieve social equality must attend to intimate
commodities, and the intimate ties that they form, to consider how the private and invisible
nature of the inequalities embedded within them play a part in the perpetuation of inequality.

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Chapter 5 - Straight-Acting: Gay Pornography, Heterosexuality, and Hegemonic
Masculinity

While working with a prominent studio in the gay adult film industry, Devon Hunter
recounted his experiences of homophobia and heterosexism, being told to “dial down the gay” in
order to appeal more widely to consumers (Hunter 2010). He was given directions such as
“don’t talk with your hands, don’t use any big words, and keep your voice kinda deep,” in order
to market him as heterosexual, which producers assert is in line with consumer preference
(Hunter 2010). While there is evidence that contemporary forms of hegemonic masculinity (e.g.
white, large-framed, muscular, well-endowed men) are privileged within gay communities
(Levine 1998; Sánchez and Vilain 2012), the relationship between adult film and “real world”
desires remains unclear. Dyer (1999), for example, has argued that pornography has “contributed
to and legitimized the masculine model of gay sexuality, a model that always implies the
subordination of women” (483) through the valuation of masculinity and devaluation of
femininity. Contemporary work on pornography, however, contends that this relationship is
infinitely more complex, and that we must acknowledge the agency of consumers, the
multiplicity of readings, as well as historical and cultural context (Mercer 2003, 2012; Miller-
Young 2010). Although gay men have been making gains in mainstream media representation,
gay adult film still represents a major means of dispersing representations of homosexuality,
particularly to more geographically isolated individuals. Whether they are creating, amplifying,
or reflecting community standards, many films present images of gay male desire in tension with
hegemonic masculinity.
82
Through a case study of a popular “str8”
xii
adult film site, I interrogate whether Dyer’s
argument should be extended to include the subordination of those gay men who are not as
“masculine” as those portrayed in dominant roles in gay pornography, specifically in adult films
which feature and exalt heterosexual males. In doing so, my hope is to allow for informed
consumption of such media by revealing recurrent narratives that may subjugate homosexuality,
while also providing openings for queering the reading of such content (Sinfield 1994). In this
chapter, I demonstrate the ways in which hegemonic masculinity is visibly privileged in an
exemplary case of “str8” adult film. In the conclusion, I turn to the broader implications of these
findings for gay men and masculinities, including a discussion of how consumers may draw
generatively upon these media to challenge existing notions of masculinities and sexualities.

Hegemonic masculinity and homosexuality
Gender scholars have argued that we cannot speak of “masculinity” in the singular form
as masculinities are not essential, but are socially constructed and plural (Connell 1987, 2005;
Connell and Messerschmidt 2005; Kimmel and Messner 2012). This paper utilizes Connell’s
(Connell 1987, 2005) theory of hegemonic masculinity – the concept that there is one form of
masculinity which holds power over other forms in a given historical and cultural context, and
does so through embedded beliefs, values, and practices. This framework theorizes how
patriarchal gender relations are legitimated, maintained, or challenged (Messerschmidt 2012) at
local, regional, and global levels (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005).
While particular groups of men – whether by race, class, sexuality, or ability – are
subordinated by the practices that constitute hegemonic masculinity, most, including
subordinated men, are complicit in sustaining it (Chen 1999; Wingfield 2009; Yeung et al.
83
2006). Within the framework of hegemonic masculinity, the processes by which hierarchical
gender relations are maintained have been theorized as “external hegemony” – that which
reinforces men’s superiority over women – and “internal hegemony,” power over subordinated
masculinities (Demetriou 2001). This chapter focuses on the latter by attending to the ways in
which power is maintained through the consent of the ruled, i.e. the production, distribution, and
consumption of cultural materials that legitimate hierarchies of masculinities.
The attribution of effeminacy to same-sex attracted men is, as queer theorists and cultural
studies scholars have noted, a relatively modern construct (Foucault 1978; Sinfield 1994). Same-
sex attraction and behavior became something that one “is” rather than something that one “did.”
Emblematic of a kind of “failed” masculinity, sexologists and psychoanalysts of the late 19
th
and
early 20
th
century contended that men’s homosexuality was a result of mental or emotional
identification with the “wrong” or “other” sex, i.e. an “invert” (Freud 2000). As homosexuality-
as-identity became medicalized and stigmatized, same-sex attracted men engaged in a variety of
social and internal actions to mediate and minimize the attribution of such stigma to themselves
(Chauncey 1994). Because masculinity is often defined as that which is distinct and different
from femininity, this included rejection within oneself of effeminate attitudes, behaviors, or
desires. This cultural devaluation of femininity and effeminacy, with their concurrent attribution
to queer men, has resulted in numerous social problems. For example, gay men in many studies
have expressed the desire for masculine attributes both in themselves and in dating or sexual
partners (Bailey et al. 1997; Bianchi et al. 2010; Han 2009; Phua 2007), attitudes that have been
termed “effeminophobia” (Annes and Redlin 2012), “sissyphobia” (Bergling 2001), or
internalized homophobia (Levine 1998). In gay dating advertisements, “muscular” and “straight
appearing” or “straight acting” are the most common descriptors in desirable qualities in a
84
partner and for oneself (Bailey et al. 1997; Bianchi et al. 2010; Felmlee, Orzechowicz, and
Fortes 2010). Such preferences intersect with race to disadvantage Asian men who, in studies of
both gay and heterosexual dating preferences, are often perceived as more feminine.
While these desires occur within shifting political and social contexts, they are often
depoliticized by those who hold them. The dynamic theoretical orientation of hegemonic
masculinity attends to the ways in which hierarchies of masculinities are maintained or
challenged not only by those in positions of privilege, but also by those subordinated (Yeung et
al. 2006). Phua (2007), for example, found that Asian American men who prefer to date
exclusively white men explain these desires not as a political issue or one of self-hate, but simply
as a personal preference. Conversely, Asian men reframe their status of “less desirable” as a
result of others’ personal preferences in order to counter internalized negative self-perception
(Poon and Ho 2008). Poon and Ho highlight these as strategies of resistance – not necessarily
antagonistic or confrontational, but resistant still – and potentially micro-movements that
redefine masculinity. The flow of power in masculinities, as Connell and Messerschmidt (2005)
argue, is reciprocal; subordinated forms of masculinity may ultimately have influence on
dominant forms. In this chapter I will identify various narrative trends present in the “str8” adult
film genre. Although it is beyond the scope of the current chapter, understanding how consumers
interpret the trends will be a central next step in understanding the power relations between
masculinities outside of pornography.
I focus upon the “str8” genre within gay adult film as the site to explore the relationship
between dominant and subordinated forms of masculinity, as it offers a means to analyze upon
what premises the constructions of heterosexuality and homosexuality rely, how hegemonic
ideals may be embedded into pornographic products, and whether these may provide cultural
85
rationalization for the continued subordinated of non-heterosexual men. While it could be argued
that gay male pornography inherently challenges hegemonic masculinity, to do so ignores the
ways in which content may be an instrument of patriarchal reproduction (Demetriou 2001:355).
Attending to recurrent patterns in gay male pornography provides insight into whether such
content may challenge or bolster the existing gender order.

Gay male pornography
It is important to note that the object of analysis in this study (gay pornography) is
constructed within a contemporary American context that emphasizes the desire of masculinity
and musculature. Pornography, as both product of and productive of culture, varies in tandem
with real world events. For example, the smooth, hypermasculine, muscular body that grew in
prominence in gay pornography in the 1980s and 1990s has arguably been a response to the
AIDS crisis, where slim bodies could be interpreted as “less healthy” and thus large, developed
musculature was interpreted as healthy and sexual (Mercer 2012). In other countries and
historical periods, the dominant narratives and ideals in gay pornography take very different
forms – in Russia, for example, gay pornography has centered narratives of gay effeminacy and
martyrdom as strategies to ennoble same-sex desire, while in conversation with global trends,
including those in Western pornography (Healey 2010).
Duggan and McCreary (2004), while a relatively small sample size, found that gay men
view pornographic content at twice the rate of heterosexual men. Thus pornography may become
an “education of desire,” (Dyer 1984) which is to say that its presence provides the opportunity
for the affirmation of same-sex sexuality and non-heterosexual identities, and to demonstrate
ideals, if unobtainable, exaggerated ones (Mercer 2012). While it is important to note that
86
pornography is not the only source from which individuals may extract meanings of same-sex
sexuality, and that consumers may interpret its texts in various ways, analyzing dominant
narratives at work in adult film provides a better understanding of the curricular foundations of
this “education” and to provide a “set of conventions for interpreting” the content (Rubin
1993:22). Indeed, analyses of Asian men in pornography have noted that it is not necessarily
their portrayal as desexualized bottoms that is problematic, per se, it is the prevalence and
immutability of this narrative and its relationship to real-world status quo (Fung 1999; Nguyen
2014; Tsang 1999).
While scholars have contended that pornography can be an active agent in the
reproduction of inequality through persistent narratives, contemporary porn scholars (see Miller-
Young 2010; Parreñas Shimizu 2010; Williams 2004a) argue that pornography cannot be viewed
as a monolithic production imbued with inequality and exploitation, but is historically complex
and dynamic. The pleasure obtained from pornography must be understood in the context of
politics, identity, and power (Miller-Young 2010). At the same time, the effectiveness of the
product stems from “its ability to satisfy the viewer’s expectation that the sex is plausibly ‘real’
in some way” (Escoffier 2003:536). The elements that compose the pornographic product,
therefore, must be plausible to the consumer, while possessing elements of power and identity
that may represent and perpetuate a real-world status quo through prevalent and persistent
narratives (Bernardi 2006). This project asks, therefore, what are the predominant narratives in
“str8” pornography, and what are their connections to gender hierarchies outside of
pornography?
As I have noted, hegemonic and subordinated forms of masculinity are co-definitional.
As an “educational” resource, gay adult film provides consumers with a toolbox of types of men,
87
masculinities, and sexualities and narratives about how these men, masculinities, and sexualities
are related and are differently valued. Each consumer will interpret these messages slightly
differently and may choose to reject dominant readings altogether. Nevertheless, understanding
how images of gay men are defined can contribute to our understanding of the predominant
narratives required for the construction of hetero- and homosexuality and the hierarchical
relationship between masculinities. Thus, this research explores the ways that regional
hegemonic masculinities are constituted in mainstream U.S. culture through the lens of the “str8”
adult film genre.

The “str8” adult film genre and site selection
Studying the Internet presents particular challenges in site selection, as digital content
possesses “interpretive flexibility” (Pinch and Bijker 1987); different groups may interpret the
same website or online content in different ways. While I do not make claims to consumer’s
reception of content, I follow Hine’s (2009) methodological recommendation to “trace [the
site’s] histories and connections” in order to contextualize the site within a greater body of
content. I begin by describing the “str8” adult film genre to provide the reader with a better sense
of the position of the material produced by the site within the greater body of online gay adult
content, provide justification for its selection based upon its position relative to similar websites,
and describe its qualities that merit study.
There is a proliferation of “str8” sex—that is sex between two or more men where at least
one asserts a heterosexual identity—on the internet, both in gay adult film as well as dating and
hookup websites such as Craigslist (Ward 2008). In my exploration of gay pornographic review
websites, the number of “str8” sites reviewed were twice the number of those which feature all
88
Asian content, thirty percent more than those which focus on BDSM, and in comparable volume
to those that feature Black performers
xiii
and bareback content. Thus, I argue str8 pornography
can be considered a relatively substantial subset of gay pornographic content, rather than
representing an anomalous minority subculture.
Through the initial review of comparable websites during site selection, findings
indicated that most of the gay adult film websites in the str8 genre construct a hypermasculine
performer whose straightness is exaggerated by his back-story, behavior, the pitch of his voice,
and the way in which he interacts with other male models in the film. Using a theoretically
grounded coding structure, I explore how gendered narrative markers are deployed in performer
biographies to portray some of the men in Bait Buddies films as “straight” despite their
performance of sexual acts with other men. Given the commodified nature of pornography, and
in this case, “straight” men in gay pornography, it is important to look at how the men on these
websites are marketed to consumers; Dixon (2003) has argued that these “performative
constructs” are commodified and sold to reinforce existing societal constructs.
While many gay adult film websites purportedly feature heterosexual models, the site I
selected, Bait Buddies, is one of the few that directly advertises sexual interaction between gay
or bisexual (termed “bait”) men and straight men. I posit that Bait Buddies is, therefore, the
perfect vector to study constructions of masculinity, heterosexuality, and homosexuality, and
how they are comparatively constructed as desirable. When determining site selection, I first
compiled a list of “str8” pornographic websites through gay adult film review websites
(primarily Gay Demon
xiv
and Lust Puppy
xv
, though others were also evaluated). Seven sites,
listed in Table 1, were selected based upon the criteria of featuring purportedly “straight” men
engaged in same-sex sexual activities with a gay or bisexual man. Attempting to obtain numbers
89
of registered users directly from these websites proved unsuccessful, and as such, I utilized
Google search analytic data for each site to compare their relative search traffic, and information
from Alexa
xvi
. In the realm of str8 adult film, Bait Buddies’ traffic was solidly in the middle at
the time of selection, and has since become second only to Chaos Men’s U.S. Ranking. While
Alexa’s rating information is speculative and should be accepted with caution, their data further
showed that the majority of Bait Buddies consumers are in the 34-44 year age range, are
disproportionately male, and have a college education.
In addition to their large amount of traffic, Bait Buddies proved to be an ideal site for
four reasons. As described before, Bait Buddies frames their content by attributing each
performer within a category of either “straight” (heterosexual) or “bait,” (who are presumably
gay/bi/pansexual men) allowing for tidy comparison of models within each category. Second,
the majority of their content features only two models, allowing us to neatly contrast scene
partners. Third, unlike the other sites, Bait Buddies constructs a biography for each performer,
allowing for both manifest and latent coding of their back-stories. Finally, consumers are able to
both “favorite” and rate each model, allowing for quantitative analysis that identifies trends
suggestive of consumer desires.

90
TABLE 1: Comparison Site Rankings
Site Name Global Ranking U.S. Ranking Affiliation Links
Bait Buddies 222,138 43,087 122
Gay Creeps 271,651 185,012 606
Str8Hell 817,824 345,921 139
ChaosMen 622,377 14,599 187
UnGloryhole 641,606 191,202 554
Spunkworthy 368,956 79,465 41
Next Door Male 256,171 85,872 298
Note: The rank by country is calculated using a combination of average daily visitors over the
past month. The site with the highest combination of visitors and page views is ranked #1 in that
country.

Methods
This study proceeded from a qualitative and quantitative content analysis of gender
framing techniques used in written and photographic materials presented on the str8 adult film
site Bait Buddies. By virtue of the constraints of the object of study, this data is non-random and
these profiles should be understood as constructions embedded within the larger construction of
the films in which the profiled performers are featured and within the Bait Buddies site more
broadly. Therefore findings are not presented as representative, but rather as a case of the
construction of masculinity within the context of potentially conflicting categories of sexuality,
which provides valuable insight into potential trends in the str8 adult film genre, and has
implications for our understanding of gay male masculinities.
91
I coded the profiles of all three hundred and twenty-nine performers currently or
previously employed by Bait Buddies as of the initial date of analysis. Although each model was
assigned either a “bait” or “straight” status on their biographic page, several performers had
performed in more than one video and the video labeling shows that performers performing in
more than one film did not always perform the same role. Those models who initially appeared
in films as straight and returned later as bait were coded as “switch” performers to denote their
conversion. The sample is composed of 121 bait models, 198 straight models, and 10 “switch”
models.
Each model’s biographic page is comprised of a photograph of the performer, standard
personal data (e.g. height, weight, penile length), aggregated performer rating data, screen
captures and links to the video(s) in which the performer has performed, and a brief textual
statement about the model, ranging from 33 to 186 words in length. The biographies usually
provide a physical description of the performer and frequently mention the model’s sexual
interest, desires, and/or prowess. Many of the bios also include some brief description of the
model’s demeanor (e.g. confident, intimidating, soft spoken), hobbies (e.g. working out at the
gym, wrestling, dancing), and background (e.g. country or state of origin, marital and parental
status, and occupation). In some cases the performer’s motivation for participating in filming
(e.g. monetary need, desire to perform in straight pornography, desire to have sex with a straight
friend) and the outcome of the filming (e.g. displeasure with male sexual contact, enjoyment of
male sexual contact, new found bisexuality or “conversion”) was included in the biographic text.

92
Framing Measures
Beginning with Goffman’s (1976) work on masculinity in advertising as the theoretical
touchstone, I, in collaboration with a research assistant, developed a coding structure that
captures some of the most basic and common markers of masculinity in contemporary
mainstream American society. This coding structure was further refined in the open coding phase
(Straus and Corbin 1998) where recurrent themes were identified. Ultimately the coding
structure was broken into four analytical dimensions: physical appearance, activity orientation,
subordination, and bodily openness.
While I acknowledge that the concept of hegemonic masculinity refers to practices,
values, and beliefs which constitute a hegemonic form of masculinity that is both constantly in
flux across time and contextually specific, for the purposes of coding and statistical analysis,
proxy measures are necessary. While these proxy measures cannot hope to capture the full
complexity of hegemonic masculinity, I believe the codes developed provide a useful means for
observing the variable and, perhaps, strategic distribution of common “masculine” markers in the
narrative construction of heterosexuality and homosexuality within the context of “str8” adult
film. To understand this distribution offers insight into the ways in which hegemonic masculinity
is affirmed through the dominance of heterosexuality and the subordination of homosexuality.
Using the four analytical dimensions, we conducted a multiphase analysis of the 329 profile
pages. The first phase was composed of quantitative analysis of the standard profile data, which
included the performer’s role (bait, straight, or switch), height, weight, penile length, user rating
(out of 100), and times added to users’ favorites. The second phase was composed of content
analysis of the profile photos and bio text. In this phase, the researchers coded and counted all
words and phrases that appeared to conform to at least one of the four analytical dimensions.
93
Open coding was also performed during this phase to identify other potential themes relating to
sexuality, masculinity, race, class and gender not captured by Goffman’s analytical dimensions.
Through a consensus process, these instances were then grouped and assigned to specific
dimensions for quantitative analysis. We content-analyzed the biographic pages (N=329), which
were divided into two randomly selected and equally sized samples (164 and 165). The
intercoder reliability, conducted on a subsample of 17 bios from each coder’s sample, was 91.4
percent, suggesting strong agreement.

Physical Appearance included codes that described the performer’s physical body in terms of
size (e.g. large, huge, small, slim), attractiveness (hunk, stud, beautiful, sexy) and musculature
(ripped, cut, toned). For example, rating high in masculine physical appearance codes, Brandon
Monroe was described as “tall, dark, and handsome … standing at 6’2” … when his pants came
off we saw his giant cock and our juices started to flow.”
xvii
In contrast, feminine physical
appearance codes included descriptions of models as lithe, slim, and hairless.

Activity Orientation included codes that referred to activities (swimming, going to the gym,
teaching) that emphasized physical or mental labor. Rating high in masculinizing codes, Brenn
Wyson, was described as “a professional boxing coach and MMA fighter.”
xviii

Subordination included codes that indicated their role as straight or bait, sexual receptiveness,
and interactional submissiveness. Jessie Alan was described as having 14 tattoos, and
“intimidating … with ‘Thug Love’ [tattooed] across his abdomen, you know this guy knows
what he wants and how to get it,”
xix
indicating, in this case, his lack of subordination.
94

Bodily Openness, the researchers reconceptualized to include Vek Lewis’s concept of the “open
body” which is filmed from the back and “coded visually for the voyeuristic and fetishistic
(eroticizing) gaze as open to penetration” (2009:181), thus including both the performer’s pose in
the profile photo (e.g. shot from the front or back) and textual markers in the bio (e.g. desire to
be anally penetrated, desire to vaginally penetrate women). Steven Ponce’s biographic page on
Bait Buddies provides an example of high bodily openness, describing him as an “insatiable
bottom,” and an “expert cock sucker and bottom boy.”

I anticipated that straight profiles would contain significantly more codes that indicate
masculinity in each of the four analytical categories than bait performer profiles, which I posited
would contain greater instances of feminine codes. I also expected that the standard profile data
would correlate with model type, masculine attributes (greater height, penile length, etc.) and
consumer rating. Finally, I expected that the analytical codes of gender display would be linked
to consumer rating as well, where those profiles that contained greater masculine codes would be
rated more highly by consumers.

Analysis
In the first phase of analysis, we reviewed the quantitative content analysis data of the
biographic text according to my analytical dimensions of gender display. Because subjects may
have both masculine and feminine elements of gender display, codes in this phase were
categorized as either masculinizing (e.g. rough, hunk, stud) or feminizing (e.g. queen, yummy,
95
small). Each profile was coded for both masculinizing and feminizing codes. The only
exception to this is the Activity Orientation category; given that action is always and already
coded as masculine (Berger 1972), there were no feminine action codes observed. I determined
the statistical significance of these codes for both bait and straight performers using t tests
xx
.
Findings from this phase are reported in the Gender Display Findings section.
In the second phase of analysis, I reviewed the quantitative standard profile data (e.g.
height, weight, penile length.) In this phase I examined the relationship between the standard
data, the “type” of performer (bait or straight) and the consumer rating. The statistical
significance of this data was determined using a combination of t tests. Findings from this phase
are reported in the Standard Data Findings section.
In the final phase of analysis, I utilize codes relating to masculinity, sexuality, gender,
race and class found during the open coding phase and gender display phase, and tie these codes
to the standard profile data in order to obtain a partial picture of consumer desires. The statistical
significance of this data was determined using t tests, ANOVA, and linear regression, and
findings are reported in the Consumer Desire Findings section
xxi
.
Due to the small number of models who are coded as “switch” (N=10), I have excluded
them from analysis and report only on bait and straight performers. Because some biographies
were missing data, they were coded as missing so as not to influence findings. Again, because
the data is non-random, statistical inferences to the larger body of gay adult film should be made
cautiously.

96
Gender display findings
In Table 2, I provide the percentage of bait and straight biographies that contain either
masculinizing or feminizing codes in each of the four categories of gender display. Statistically
significant differences between bait and straight performer biographies were found in all but one
category: feminizing codes of Physical Appearance. All were statistically significant at the
p<.001 level of significance with the exception of masculinizing codes in the Physical
Appearance category, which was significant at the p<.05 level of significance
xxii
.
The most striking of these results are the disparate percentages in both the masculinizing
and feminizing Bodily Openness categories; 66.7 percent of straight performers had
masculinizing codes, compared to 30.6 percent of bait performers (|t| = 6.72). In stark contrast,
only 32.3 percent of straight models had feminizing codes in the Bodily Openness category,
relative to 78.5 percent of bait models (|t| = 9.24). While there was not a statistically significant
difference between the percentages of feminizing codes in the Physical Appearance category
(52.1 percent for bait, 47.5 percent for straight), it is worth noting that the trends occur in the
same direction, where bait performers possess a greater preponderance of feminizing codes.

97
TABLE 2: Descriptive Statistics of Gender Display Codes in Straight and Bait Biographies
on Bait Buddies (N=329)
Bait Actors
Straight
Actors
Masculinizing Codes

Physical
Appearance 53.70% 67.70% *
Activity Orientation 10.70% 32.80% ***
Subordination 42.10% 66.70% ***
Bodily Openness 30.60% 66.70% ***
Feminizing Codes

Physical
Appearance 52.10% 47.50%
Activity Orientation --- ---
Subordination 57.90% 7.60% ***
Bodily Openness 78.50% 32.30% ***
NOTE: Significance tests reported are from T Tests. *p£ .05. **p£ .01. ***p£ .001.

98
Standard data findings
Each Bait Buddies profile contains six pieces of standard information: height, weight,
penile length, rating (how models are rated by consumers), favorites (how many times a model
has been marked as a “favorite” by consumers), and the number of times the profile has been
rated. I also include the calculation of BMI (Body Mass Index) to provide a sense of performers’
musculature; as all of the performers can be assumed to conform to contemporary western
standards of attractiveness—which marginalize people with visible excessive body fat—in the
case of these profiles BMI is an indicator of muscle density, rather than body fat. The highest
BMI scores indicate a heavily muscled or “body builder” physique, while the lowest BMI scores
indicate slender or lithe frames. In Table 3, I present the mean data for each of these categories
by performer type. Running Analysis of Variance (ANOVA) tests to compare the means for bait
and straight models showed that statistically significant differences exist in Height (at the p<.05
level of significance), Weight, BMI Score, and Penile Length (at the p<.001 level of
significance).
The mean height for all models is 69.1 inches, roughly 5 feet, 9 inches. Bait performers
have a mean height of 68.6 inches relative to straight performers’ 70.5 inches (|t| = 2.14).
Straight models are, on average, 10 pounds heavier and have an average BMI score of 23.8
compared to bait models’ score of 22.8. The most striking difference is that of penile length.
Bait models, on average, have a penile length of 7.3 inches while straight models’ average is 7.8;
nearly an additional half-inch on average (|t| = 3.47).
Bait models have a mean rating score of 79.4, relative to the mean straight score of 82.2,
a difference that is not statistically significant, but does continue to apparently favor straight
99
performers. The direction of these trends occur also in number of times favorited and number of
ratings, where straight models are favorited more often and rated a higher number of times.

TABLE 3: Descriptive Statistics of Standard Profile Data in Straight and Bait Biographies
on Bait Buddies (N=329)
Bait Actors Straight Actors
Height (in inches) 69.8 70.5 *
Weight (in pounds) 155.5 165.9 ***
BMI Score 22.8 23.8 ***
Penile Length (in inches) 7.3 7.8 ***
Rating (out of 100) 79.4 82.2
Times Favorited 5.2 6.3
Number of Ratings 5.3 5.4
NOTE: Significance tests reported are from T Tests. *p£ .05. **p£ .01. ***p£ .001.

Consumer desire findings
In this phase of analysis I attempted to find correlation between the codes found during
all three phases of coding and consumer rating in order to begin mapping the patterns that may
compose consumer desire for regional hegemonic masculinities. I categorized all codes
identified during open coding into masculinizing, feminizing, or gender-neutral codes. ANOVA
revealed that there is a statistically significant relationship between performer type and
masculinizing codes. I obtained an F ratio of 67.931 with (2) degrees of freedom (p<.001 level).
This also holds true for feminizing codes for which I obtained an F ratio of 99.431 with (2)
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degrees of freedom (p<.001), meaning that straight performers’ profiles contain a significantly
greater number of masculinizing codes than those of bait models.
While ANOVA revealed that there was not a significant relationship between
masculinizing codes and average rating (F(15) = 0.877), an important, but not statistically
significant discovery was that feminizing codes in higher numbers appeared to negatively
influence average rating. Linear regression shows that for models with greater than five
feminizing codes, there is a linear negative relationship between feminine codes and consumer
rating. The estimated relationship is that for every additional feminine code, there is an average
decrease in rating of 5.18 points on a point scale of 100.
There also appears to be a correlation between penile length and rating. Regression
indicates that for every inch of penile length, a model is rated an average of 3.92 points higher (t
= 5.508 at the p<.001 level of significance).
ANOVA further indicates that there is a significant difference in average rating between
white and non-white performers (F(1) = 6.505 at the p<.01 level of significance). Specifically,
non-white models have a lower rating on average than white models.
A t test revealed that bait models have significantly fewer codes that indicate athleticism
than straight models (|t| = 4.20 at the p<.001 level of significance). ANOVA indicates that there
is a significant relationship between athletic codes and average rating (F(1) = 17.685 at the
p<.001 level of significance). Namely, those with more codes indicating athleticism are rated
more highly.

101
Discussion
I begin the discussion by briefly summarizing the images of heterosexuality and
homosexuality elucidated by the statistically significant findings. I then discuss the connection
of these images to hegemonic masculinity and consumer ratings before concluding with a
discussion of the cultural symbolic meanings these constructions suggest.
In this study, straight performers are taller, weigh more, have a higher BMI score, and
longer penises. The narrative coding of performers’ biographies supports these quantitative
profile data findings. Straight models have more instances of masculinizing codes in Physical
Appearance; they are described as “hunks” or “ripped.” They are more often described as
physically active (swimming, boxing or going to the gym), are less subordinate (“street edge”)
and do the penetrating; they are not penetrated. Micah, for example, is described as “6`3`` with
the physique of a pro ball player.”
xxiii

The picture of gay “bait” models is very different: Shorter in stature, lighter in weight and
slimmer of body, the bait performers are less “active” than straight performers, are more
subordinate, and more often open to penetration. They are described as “boys” with “smooth,
almost hairless bod[ies]. ”
xxiv
Where straight models are portrayed as active, bait models’
physical beauty is emphasized and they are regularly described as open to penetration: Tucker
Forrest’s “ass was built for taking cock and he revels in sheer delight every time he can cum with
another dude inside him.”
xxv
The desire for penetration appears often in bait performers’ profiles,
where they are described as “insatiable bottom[s].”
xxvi

The data show patterned differences between the representations of straight and bait
models that, I argue, consistently associate contextually valued markers of masculinity with the
presumptively heterosexual performers. The “straight” models’ greater size acts as a proxy for
102
authority and power, while their biographies highlight hobbies and occupations that are
indicative of their ability to act in a social environment and perform socially valued tasks.
Further, the “straight” performers’ bios often highlight their ability to control a situation, both
socially (e.g. “I’m never fucking coming back...and I’d better never see you again
xxvii
”) and
physically (e.g. “as soon as he was approached by the director to do some guy/guy stuff, Adam
literally tossed our bait guy across the room to the other couch. ”
xxviii
). In contrast, the “bait”
models’ smaller size indicates their potential to be physically dominated and their bios highlight
their physical beauty, often to the exclusion of any indication that they might perform necessary
functions as members of society. These kinds of portrayals are in line with Berger’s (1972)
concept that men “act” whereas women “appear,” hearkening back to Parsons’ (1956)
instrumental/expressive roles.
This pattern continues with penile length. Straight performers are reported as having, on
average, an additional half an inch of penile length. The mean length for the entire sample was
7.6 inches, yet over 48 percent of the straight models were reported as being greater in length
compared to only 29 percent of bait models. This overrepresentation in greater endowment
further emphasizes the way in which virile masculinity is co-constructed with heterosexuality;
Kimmel (2005) notes that masculinity in pornography is “phallocentric,” meaning that erection,
orgasm, and ejaculation are all defining parts of what constitutes a masculine sexuality. The
physical differences between the bait and straight performers are likely invented by adult film
producers, who may either falsely report that the straight models are taller and heavier or more
muscular than they actually are or make a deliberate decision to cast the larger performer to play
the part of “straight” role. Although these production decisions may be made to improve the
intelligibility and perceived realism of their films by drawing on dominant cultural narratives of
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masculinity, heterosexuality, and homosexuality, they also contribute to the ongoing construction
of homosexuality as less masculine and less valued than heterosexuality.
While the standard profile findings showed that there was not a direct correlation
between performer type and consumer rating, the findings indicate that it may be trending toward
significance (p<.08). Further, several gendered markers are simultaneously positively correlated
with both consumer rating and “straight” or “bait” model status. For example, bait model
profiles contain more feminizing codes than straight models, and findings indicate that greater
feminizing codes decrease consumer rating. In other words, the more a performer is feminized
in their description, the less desirable they are to consumers.
Findings indicate a correlation between body type and sexuality, where heterosexuality is
positively correlated with masculine attributes such as larger frame, greater musculature, larger
penis, and whiteness. Consumer preference is simultaneously positively correlated with these
same elements, indicating that the presumably gay viewers have a greater desire for
heterosexual, hypermasculine, white individuals than for their gay and non-white counterparts.
In addition to feminizing codes, penile length and athleticism--both of which are
correlated with heterosexuality--are also correlated with consumer rating. That is, greater penile
length leads to higher consumer ratings. Codes that indicate athleticism are also positively
correlated with consumer rating, and these codes occur more often in the profiles of straight
performers. As we can see, there appears to be a potentially indirect relationship between
performer type and consumer rating via these markers of masculinity.
As many different cultural meanings can be extracted based upon audience members’
positionality (Messner 2000), the focus of this paper is not the eroticization of heterosexual men,
but instead, why the attributions of each category of performer are so disparate. As Goffman
104
(1976) argues in relation to advertisements, the media we consume provide us with seemingly
culturally approved tools for the symbolic performance of our own identities and for anticipating
and judging the symbolic performances of others. In particular, the advertisements that Goffman
studied and the adult films I analyzed provide viewers with materials from which ideas of
gender and sexuality can be constructed. What does it say that to simply categorize a performer
as straight or gay is insufficient at the cultural symbolic level, and that each term calls into being
and relies on the support of such disparate attributions?
If we interpret these constructions of heterosexuality and homosexuality as both a product
of and productive of culture (Ross 2005), then the findings presented in this study may indicate
the need to interrogate their presence in discourses of desire. West and Fenstermaker (1995)
acknowledge the necessity of understanding how “all social exchange, regardless of the
participants or the outcome, are simultaneously ‘gendered,’ ‘raced,’ and ‘classed’” (13). The
producers of Bait Buddies are providing resources that allow the exchanges to become
intelligible to audiences (Kimmel 2005; West and Zimmerman 1987). Straight models become
intelligible as masculine, dominant and privileged, while gay or “bait” performers become
intelligible as feminine, subordinate, and less desirable. They have constructed categories of
difference that are not “natural, essential, or biological” (West and Zimmerman 1987:137) but
provide cultural material that reinforces the mechanisms of “doing” hegemonic and subordinated
masculinities at a regional level (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). These cultural symbols we
are given as tools to construct our own genders and sexualities must be critiqued and explored;
they are not solely passive media with which we educate ourselves, they provide us with
repertoires with which we construct our identities, whether we challenge or align with these
cultural symbols.
105
The statistical analysis of Bait Buddies’ content has provided correlations of various
dominant cultural markers of masculinity with perceived heterosexuality, on the one hand, and
consumer preference on the other. While I have not conducted a viewer response study, and
therefore can make no claims as to the meanings consumers may derive from the films, the
statistically significant findings espouse a hierarchical relationship between heterosexuality and
homosexuality, each of which is inherently “different” and unequal in their relationship to
masculinity and femininity. Str8 pornography, I therefore argue, may support a regional
hegemonic masculinity exemplified by the “str8” models.
At face value, the patterns demonstrated by the statistical analysis of Bait Buddies appear
to legitimate the existing gender order. It should be noted, however, that the polysemy inherent
in all texts (Barthes 1981, 1986; Fiske 1989; Hall 1980; Hebdige 1979) means that these adult
films carry the potential for diverse and even subversive readings. To draw upon Mercer’s
(2003) work, the str8 man in these films may represent a sort of “prototype,” in that they are a
manufactured exaggeration of masculinity and heterosexuality, and one that is not deterministic.
Such films may provide a sense of validation of the attractiveness of queer men, in that even men
who ardently profess a heterosexual identity may experience attraction them. The straight-
identified man is originally framed as the object of desire, yet in the course of each film, queer
men consumers have the opportunity to imagine themselves as the recipient of desire from this
man. So what begins as an exaltation of heterosexuality may ultimately become reframed as
centering the attractiveness of homosexuality. Additionally, because the str8 performers are so
significantly coded as masculine, yet ultimately experience attraction to another man, one could
interpret this media as dissolving the boundaries between gender presentation and sexual identity
or desire. Ultimately, as a result of the str8 man’s “conversion,” homosexuality becomes
106
connected to all of these culturally valued markers of heterosexual masculinity. Gay men may
derive great pleasure and even a sense of empowerment from reading these films as narratives in
which dominant heterosexual masculinity is subjugated by homosexual desire. The
hypermasculinity of the “straight” performers may only sweeten the victory of their eventual
conquest by the “bait” performer, the producers, and—in a discursive sense—the viewer.
Alternatively, interpretation of these films need not focus on subjugation at all; one might
read these films as an affirmation of fluid and contextual sexuality, even that of the most
hypermasculine straight men. These “str8” films could be read as representative of the
dissolution or blurring of sexual identities, a movement toward a queerer sexual world in which
identity categories are less significant or rigid. Future research needs to investigate the ways in
which consumers take up these recurrent images in multiple and diverse ways to constitute
senses of self and of desire, and to pattern relationships with others. Viewer response research
with the consumers of “str8” adult films may provide valuable insight into the relation of viewers
to the narratives of regional hegemonic masculinities presented in these films and whether they
take them up in ways that challenge or reconstitute the existing gender order Inclusive in this
needs to be an interrogation of women consumers of gay/str8 adult content and the ways in
which this may be drawn upon in conceptions of male heterosexuality in intimate partner bonds
and discourses of desire, as gay pornography is the 2
nd
most searched-for category by women
users of porn sharing sites (PornHub n.d.).

107
Chapter 6 – Conclusion

I originally envisioned this project as a multi-site comparison study of adult film studios,
however, due to the changing nature of the industry, I was unable to obtain extended access to
other gay adult film studios in the manner in which I had for From Behind Films. I did, however,
I spend time with three others, and at numerous industry events. I also conducted formal
interviews with six prominent adult film producers, four directors, twenty-three performers, and
countless informal interviews with the same and other workers in various occupations in the
industry, including video editors, social media managers, graphic and web designers, and
production assistants, among others. These data, while insufficient for a true systematic
comparison, provide continued support for the findings in the preceding chapters, which I will
elaborate upon in this concluding chapter.
This project has utilized the gay adult film industry as a lens to study broader patterns of
masculinity, sexuality, race, and the body within contexts of labor and production. While each of
the preceding chapters utilized varied theoretical frameworks, methods, and sites of study, two
guiding questions connect them: What are the conditions of labor within the gay adult film
industry, and what are the implications for the stratification of this labor? My research
demonstrates how certain groups of people, namely men of color, and men whose gender
expression and bodies do not conform to dominant characteristics associated with hegemonic
masculinity are intentionally and implicitly excluded or precluded from hire. This, I have argued,
has ramifications for the products generated within the industry and subsequently impacts the
circulation of these products as well as their consumption. This project has traced, from creation
to consumption, the life-cycle of gay adult film and the patterns of discriminatory practices
embedded within each milestone, largely supported through hegemonic masculine frameworks.
108
Work in the adult film industry is not regular in that few performers obtain “contract”
positions guaranteeing a certain amount of work with a studio. Availability and frequency of
work is, therefore, irregular. Even when performers receive “exclusive” employment contracts, it
can sometimes be to their detriment, as performers are contractually unable to work for other
studios during their contract period, even if the contracting studio decides not to produce films
with them. Additionally, despite the fact that the work must adhere to many governmental
regulations (for example, Measure B), hiring practices occur in a legal gray area with regard to
Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Title VII prohibits employers from discriminating
against employees on the basis of sex, race, color, national origin, or religion. Many casting
notices in feature films, for example, may call for a specific race or body type for a role, which is
a pattern my data indicated is also present in adult film. While these calls may violate the spirit
of Title VII, producers in both feature films and adult films are able to circumvent the law by
indicating that these attributes are integral to the narrative of the story. Studying the adult film
industry is therefore an ideal site to see how masculinities are constructed in homosocial and
homosexual contexts, and how labor processes vary when the kinds of legal protections we see in
more standard forms of employment are absent. That is not to say that the labor performed by
workers is not similar in many ways to the kinds of work in many other industries (Nussbaum
1998), but that the work within the industry is becoming increasingly precarious labor (Berg
2014; Tibbals 2014): non-unionized, non-protected, irregular, less often surveilled, and often
composed of an interchangeable pool of laborers who, due to the characteristics of precarious
labor, are at greater risk of exploitation and unequal labor practices (Federici 2006; Kalleberg
2009).

109
Producers within the adult film industry absolve themselves of complicity in producing
inequality by stating that who they hire and what they produce is driven solely by customer
demands. Therefore, hiring primarily white, muscular, masculine men and excluding men of
color and more feminine men occurs solely as a result of “capital logic.” The constitution of a
local hegemonic masculinity as a result of these practices directly influences how precarious the
labor of the adult film industry is for a wide swath of men. Work that is already insecure and
irregular becomes increasingly so for men of color and men of subordinated masculinities. The
reduced presence of men excluded by this local form is then apparent at regional levels. The
products that emerge from companies become material from which other companies can identify
themselves as being “in line with demands” as well as from which individual can construct erotic
schema. Therefore “demands” can continue to exclude men already marginalized by hegemonic
masculinity, and the status quo can be maintained. While many of the respondents in my study
reported having alternative forms of income, for those who enter the industry to obtain “quick
money,” they will encounter an increasingly precarious industry that marginalizes those who are
already at the margins of a broader workforce and at greater risk of economic insecurity.
At the time I began this study, the adult film industry was undergoing tremendous
change. Years of internet piracy, which significantly reduced profit margins, combined with
increased governmental interventions into labor practices had made the industry a much smaller,
much more private operation, and one that was increasingly operating off the grid. This was
made clear to me during my interview with Danny, who many workers in the industry referred to
as the biggest producer and director in the industry:

110
“No Money. The money is dwindling up. So the fees for actors have gone down. Production
budgets have gone down. Um… just everything. I’ve made incredible, insane budget
movies, my last one [big one] cost over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We made
that back right away … That was an eight-scene movie with 40 people in it. Now I’m
making one scene with six people in it, if I’m lucky.”

He also elaborated on the impact this has had to performers:

“In the past, I’ve paid twenty-five thousand to someone to do a movie. Those days are
gone. Now the standard is maybe four hundred.”

Performers echoed these sentiments, as my interview with Eduardo demonstrates:

“They used to have standards. They used to have a reputation. But now they just don’t
care, because the bottom line is money. Back in the day you used to have to buy a DVD for
$35. And you had to buy it, so companies were making millions and millions of dollars. So
they had better production, could hire better models at better rates. Now, productions are
very small productions, of one day tops, where they shoot multiple scenes, two or three
hours max, where they shoot back to back. And they get new models because they’re
cheaper, they don’t have to pay the big bucks. So you don’t have to pay them a couple
thousand if you can pay them $200.” -

111
In Chapter 3, I discussed the findings from my time spent with From Behind Films. As
my data demonstrated, queer men involved in the construction of erotic content featuring other
queer men engage in practices of othering and borderwork that create gendered, racialized, and
embodied hierarchies. These practices, which construct a local hegemonic form, have significant
ramifications in that large swaths of men experience economic disadvantage, particularly men of
color, and men who do not display professionalism, dominance, and reliability, and men whose
bodies are not sufficiently muscular. This economic disadvantage manifests not only within rates
of pay, but in availability and frequency of work. During one of my interviews with a Latino
performer named Ricky who had been in the industry for fifteen years, he described how these
dynamics had shaped his experience:

Ricky: “A lot of people told me that I didn’t have what it takes … that I didn’t have the
look, to do what I do … When I first started, I would sit down at the computer for three to
four hours per day, and apply for fifteen to twenty companies. Send my pictures, send my
requirements … yadda yadda … two of them would call me, the rest would never call me.
Rejection. At first I [felt] bad, I [felt] sad and depressed.”

Burke: “What kinds of roles were you getting?”

Ricky: “Thugs. Gangsters. Thieves. The typical Hispanic role.”

Burke: “What was that like?”

112
Ricky: “Not great. But I was doing what I wanted to do … but that’s the only kind of role
that you get. When I work with the big studios, I’ll be in a group, and I’m barely on camera.
And that doesn’t feel good.”

I interviewed Ricky with his partner, a white man named James. James had worked in
adult film as well, though not for the length of time or with the frequency at which Ricky had.
He described to me how it was just an “occasional thing” and he did it “whenever [he] felt like
it.” Both Ricky and James were acutely aware of how their respective races had shaped their
experiences in adult film. Ricky had to actively apply with high frequency and with lower
response rates, while James had the opportunity to work at his leisure, at times without even
actively searching for work.
These patterns were largely supported from my time spent with other studios, and in my
interviews with workers in the industry. For example, while From Behind Films receives and
reviews their performer submissions electronically, including notes on why they elected not to
hire them, another studio I worked with stored all of their submissions in binders which were
organized in three categories: “Yes”, “Maybe”, and “No.” I was not permitted to take any
information from the binders, however, they allowed me to spend a number of days reviewing
them, and what I observed was that the “Yes” binder was full of men similar to those I had seen
hired at From Behind Films, mostly white, muscular, and masculine-presenting. The “Maybe”
binder contained a higher rate of Black and Latino Men, and the “No” binder had fewer white
performers, more men of color, men whose bodies were less muscular, and whose pages had
handwritten notes on them such as “dick too small,” “wanted too much money,” “too girly,” or
“cancelled day before.” This suggests that the patterns observed at From Behind Films, while
113
occurring through somewhat different processes, are at play more broadly. During an interview
with the owner of a prominent gay adult film studios, he informed me what they look for when
casting, saying quote “It’s usually… face, body, dick, ass, and personality. If they have all five of
those, great. If they have four, mmm, we’ll see. There’s usually this porn ‘look,’ we like to cast
guys in their early, mid 20’s, boy-next-door-ish… white boy next door.”
In Chapter 4 I expanded upon the implications of the precarious nature of these men’s
labor, which analyzed broader patterns of labor inequality. Using data from a survey completed
by 391 gay adult film performers, I shed light on how race shapes the labor experiences and
working conditions for these men, and the subsequent economic implications. The survey was
distributed through the premier gay adult talent agency, and therefore likely reached those
working in the higher echelons of gay adult film (i.e. those whose work was more regular, higher
pay, and less insecure). Despite working in ostensibly “better” conditions, data indicated that
Black and Latino workers in the gay adult film industry receive comparable (though slightly less)
pay per scene than their white colleagues. However, they obtain significantly fewer scenes per
month on average, which accounts for an eight thousand dollar per year income disparity.
Additionally, they indicated that they were less satisfied and less likely to continue working in
adult film than their white counterparts, which is to be expected given the interactional inequity
they may encounter (as exemplified by my data at From Behind Films) as well as the greater
difficulty obtaining work and somewhat lower rates of pay. When placed in context with the
findings at From Behind Films, my survey data indicates that many studios are likely engaged in
similar processes that push out or preclude men who do not conform to hegemonically masculine
norms.
114
In order to contextualize how men of color and men who do not conform to
hegemonically masculine norms are disadvantaged within the broader context of the gay adult
film industry, I assessed the racial demographics of the “top” gay adult film companies. The
majority of U.S. adult film companies are privately owned, thus annual revenue figures are not
available publicly, nor are studios likely to provide this information (though I did inquire and
received no response from most, or responses indicating unwillingness to disclose that
information). As a result, selecting which studios' content to analyze as most representative of
current patterns in gay adult film presents a methodological challenge. I asked performers,
producers, and talent agents which five gay adult film companies they would currently name, in
terms of highest productivity, success, and customer awareness. I compared these responses with
each other, and to nominations and awards received from the Grabbys, the annual Gay Porn
Awards sponsored by Grabby magazine. Finally, I compared this list to Alexa’s web analytics
tools to estimate user traffic to these companies’ sites, as Alexa ranks visited websites, sampling
millions of internet users. While their data are approximations, and site owners may elect to keep
their metrics private, Alexa is often referenced as a top source in estimating web
traffic
12
. Through this process, I narrowed my target content analysis companies to Men.com,
Sean Cody, Falcon
13
, Cockyboys, and Next Door Studios
14
.

12
See, for example: www.ondigitalmarketing.com/learn/odm/research/how-to-research-
competitive-site-traffic-and-social-engagement
13
In 2010 Falcon merged with Raging Stallion and Hot House, all of whom met the criteria for
inclusion in the study, though each subsidiary’s content is relatively homogenous, thus I included
only Falcon in my analysis.
14
The Grabby Award nominations, Alexa traffic estimates, and industry professional’s opinions
were used to triangulate upon which studios to include and exclude in analysis. Some studios,
such as Randy Blue appeared to have high traffic ratings via Alexa, and were nominated for
several Grabby awards over previous years, though were not regularly mentioned by performers
or producers as a “top” studio, and were therefore omitted from analysis.
115
Each company’s website includes a biography page for each model, including
photographs. I coded each of the 4558 models into one of four racial categories: Black, Latino,
Asian, and white (limited racial diversity precluded further classification). Those models who
appeared multiracial I coded into the racial category I perceived that most individuals would
categorize them as. This is based on theories of ascribed racial status which have particular
relevance for dimensions of social stratification, as it is the classification upon which racism,
discrimination, and inequality operate (Gravlee and Dressler 2005; Jones et al. 2008; López
2013). In order to increase the interpretive validity of data analysis, and because race is
subjective and contextual, two additional coders coded a random sample of model profiles,
following content analysis best practices (Elo et al. 2014; Lombard, Snyder-Duch, and Bracken
2002; Macnamara 2005). This subset was a random selection equally divided among models I
had previously coded as white and as performers of color. I chose to divide the random sample
into these two pools, as performers of color are so numerically underrepresented that a random
sample drawn from the entire population risked excluding men of color entirely. The second and
third coders each coded a sample of 450 model profiles (ten percent of the population, per Lacy,
Stephen and Riffe 1996; Macnamara 2005; Neuendorf 2002). The coders blind coded the
sample, in that neither saw my codes or the codes of each other. Using the percentage-agreement
measure of reliability, the reliability coefficient was .97, indicating very high level of agreement
and data reliability (coefficients above .70 are considered reliable, per Neuendorf 2002).
The data from this analysis indicate strong support for my claim that the patterns I
observed in the aforementioned chapters are representative of larger trends in the gay adult film
industry. Of the 4558 profiles, 92.1% of models were white, 3.8% were Latino, 3.8% were
Black, and only .33% were Asian. Relative to national demographic figures, these ratios are
116
significantly skewed toward whiteness. I argue that, therefore, the patterns we have seen
historically in gay adult film, outlined in Chapter 2, are broadly still at play contemporarily. Men
of color are significantly underrepresented, and regardless of subversive readings consumers may
take from films, the numerical underrepresentation of these men is problematic for three key
reasons. First, consumers are less likely to be presented with narratives that constitute men of
color as desirable – especially in ways that are not racist or tokenizing – and consumers of color
may be less able to “see” and imagine themselves as sexually desirable. Second, in the context
of the labor market, men of color encounter a significant disadvantage in obtaining labor,
specifically labor that is equal in treatment, frequency, and pay rates relative to their white
counterparts. This pattern, therefore, contributes to labor market stratified by race and gender.
Finally, the increasing precarity of the gay adult film industry present particular challenges for
men of color. As pay rates and work availability decrease, those already disadvantaged within
the industry face increased risk of worker exploitation and economic disconnection and
disenfranchisement.
I proposed the idea of “intimate commodities” as a way of conceptualizing both the labor
and the products generated by that labor in the gay adult film industry. The core concept behind
this idea was that these commodities both mirror and provide material for the reproduction of the
inequalities present in their creation. The gender and racial inequalities that my data demonstrate
are present – in From Behind Films and in the other spaces I observed, and in the broader pay
rates, satisfaction and availability of employment – may have implications for the cultural
materials available to consumers in the constitution of desire. In Chapter 5, I explored the
content of a popular gay adult film website, Bait Buddies, as a way of interrogating these
patterns. In this chapter, I used content analysis to interrogate the relationship between gay adult
117
film products and broader patterns of gender and racial inequalities. My analysis demonstrated
that “straight” performers in these scenes were coded as significantly more masculine, while
“bait” performers were coded as more feminine. Unsurprisingly, consumer preference correlated
to these patterns, where the more masculine performers experienced higher consumer ratings, as
did the white performers, relative to their men of color colleagues.
The media we consume provide us with culturally approved tools for the symbolic
performance of our own identities and for assessing the symbolic performances of others. I argue
that this exploration of the inequalities within gay adult film production and content provides
both scholars and consumers with a ‘set of conventions for interpreting’ the commodities that are
generated within them (Rubin 1993:22). Whether the inequalities present within the production
and products of gay adult film are taken up in ways that reinforce or challenge dominant
gendered and racialized images is worth consideration. Do consumers, for example, interpret and
act upon the content in ways that challenge or subvert hegemonic norms, or is it taken up in ways
that maintain and advance white supremacy and masculinity? As feminist scholars of
heterosexual porn have investigated whether and how pornography eroticizes unequal
relationships between men and women, my research investigates the eroticization of racial
inequalities and the constitution of masculine hierarchies. I contend that the answer to these
questions rests within how it is interpreted, internalized, and enacted by consumers. My analysis
of the products, I believe, provides consumers with essential knowledge as to whether the
commodities are produced in conditions that perpetuate inequality. I argue that through who gets
hired, what they get paid, the availability of work, as well as the patterns observable through
content analysis largely contribute to racialized and gendered hierarchies. However, awareness
of these patterns, I contest, provides consumers and scholars with the abilities necessary to
118
challenge dominant images and messages. For example, consumers knowledgeable of conditions
of production can reflect upon the “realness” of the people, narratives, and images within
pornography, and make informed decisions about the constructions of erotic schema and their
relations to social inequalities.

119
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Notes
i
While it is difficult to accurately ascertain the gender and sexual identities of consumers of
pornography, during my time at From Behind Films, they reported that they did have a small
percentage of female viewers, but that the majority of their consumers were men who are
attracted to men.
ii
I use the terms “performer” and “model” interchangeably to refer to the workers who engage in
sexual activity on camera. In my experience, performers prefer these terms to “actor.”
iii
All names of performers and staff, as well as studio names contained in this chapter are
pseudonyms. The use of any names of real individuals or businesses is unintentional and purely a
symptom of the fact that creating a fictitious name that is not already in use by the adult film
industry is exceedingly challenging.
iv
The distinction between “mainstream” and “niche” can be nebulous at times, though the
producers at From Behind Films described their production as “your basic mainstream type of
porn. It's hot guy with hot guy, basically.” While this categorization is difficult to externally
validate, From Behind Films appears on numerous gay porn review websites under general
categories (e.g. not as twink or bear), and not under those that highlight specific sex acts or
fetishes (e.g. leather, fisting, or watersports), or those that feature men of specific races.
v
While other scholars have noted that women in heterosexual pornography receive higher pay in
part because they are penetrated and therefore physically exposed to more risk (see, for example
Abbott 2000), this trend was not in keeping with my data at From Behind Films, where
“bottoms” did not receive higher pay. During a fieldsite visit I asked “so how does pay work? Is
it based on what kind of sex they’re going to have to do during the scene?” Samuel replied no,
that, “pay works based on stardom,” which is most often those performers who perform
conventionally masculine attributes.
vi
While both emotional and reproductive labor may entail touch, bodily or emotional closeness,
or personal familiarity, intimate labor is distinct in that these forms of labor rarely produce
knowledge that individuals would not wish to be shared widely with third parties. Manicurists,
for example, may engage in emotional or affective labor (Hardt 1999; Hochschild 1983; Kang
2010), yet the bodily services they provide generates no private knowledge of the consumer the
way that a professional sex worker’s labor may.
vii
Wilson (2004) defines intimate economies as the interplay between ‘intimate social
dimensions’ and economic systems – that is the capitalist economy is visible in daily life’s
intimate realms, making the ‘non-economic,’ economic.
viii
Zelizer (2000) argues that the connection between intimacy and economy should be
understood as ‘differentiated ties’ as there are a ‘variety of social relations, each marked by a
distinctive pattern of payment,’ (819) and that the forms of exchange serve to define these social
relationships.
ix
The ‘Sex Wars,’ beginning in the 1970s, debated the relationship between patriarchy and
sexuality; anti-pornography feminists emphasized the ‘dangers’ of sexuality, while sex-
positive/anti-censorship feminists underscored aspects of consent and pleasure. These debates
ultimately limited the quantity and scope of research on pornography as researchers were, and
continue to be, categorized and sometimes stigmatized as pro or anti pornography. (Duggan and
Hunter 2006; Echols 1984; Rubin 1993; For a review of the Sex Wars, see Vance 1984; For a
review of how these debates have limited sex work research, see Weitzer 2009; Zelizer 2000)
x
‘Bottom’ refers to the anally receptive partner

138

xi
Standard ordinary least squares (OLS) regression analysis revealed that these differences
narrowly missed statistical significance, yet their agreement with my ethnographic findings
suggests that in a larger, representative sample size, these findings would reach statistical
significance.
xii
“Str8” here denotes a genre of gay adult film in which at least one of the performers
participating in homosexual contact is purportedly heterosexual or “straight.” Ward (2008) notes
that there is disagreement on how the term “str8” should be defined. It is used in online
communities and rap lyrics as slang for ‘straight,’ however, “others, such as contributors to
‘urbandictionary.com’, argue that ‘str8’ is used almost exclusively by gay and bisexual men ‘in
the closet’” (431). Our experience in researching adult film, online dating and online hookup
websites is that it is widely used in the latter sense, and I utilize it as such.
xiii
I use the terms “performer” and “model” interchangeably to refer to the workers who engage
in sexual activity on camera. In my experience, performers prefer these terms to “actor.”

xiv
Gay Demon: http://www.gaydemon.com/

xv
Lust Puppy: http://www.lustypuppy.com/reviews/

xvi
Alexa: http://www.alexa.com/about
Alexa ranks visited websites, sampling millions of internet users. These data, however are
approximations, and site owners may elect to keep their metrics private. Alexa is often
referenced as a top source in estimating web traffic (See, for example:
www.ondigitalmarketing.com/learn/odm/research/how-to-research-competitive-site-traffic-and-
social-engagement)

xvii
Brandon Monroe’s Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Brandon+Monroe

xviii
Brenn Wyson’s Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Brenn+Wyson

xix
Jessie Alan’s Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Jessie+Alan

xx
A t-test determines whether two means are different from one another, and whether this
difference occurs as a result of sampling error or is statistically significant
xxi
Analysis of Variance (ANOVA) tests whether the means between three sets of data are
different, and whether this difference occurs as a result of sampling error or is statistically
significant. Linear Regression tests the relationship between two variables (e.g. whether x
influences y)

xxii
The level of significance indicates the likelihood that statistically significant results occurred
as a result of sampling error. p<.05, for example, indicates that there is less than 5% chance that
results occurred due to sampling error, whereas p<.01 indicates a less than 1% chance.

139

xxiii
Micah Jones Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Micah+Jones

xxiv
Aaron Summer Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Aaron+Summer

xxv
Tucker Forrest Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Tucker+Forrest

xxvi
Kain Warren Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Kain+Warn

xxvii
Chino Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Chino

xxviii
Adam Wilde Biographic Profile:
http://www.baitbuddies.com/?page=profile&acc=Adam+Wilde

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Asset Metadata

Creator Burke, Nathaniel B. (author)

Core Title Inequality regimes in sexual labor

School College of Letters, Arts and Sciences

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Sociology

Publication Date 04/09/2018

Defense Date 03/05/2018

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Tag Labor,masculinity,OAI-PMH Harvest,pornography,Race,sexuality

Language English

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

Advisor Messner, Michael (committee chair), Echols, Alice (committee member), Hook, Jennifer (committee member)

Creator Email n.burke@me.com,nathaniel.burke@usc.edu

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