As we come to the beginning of Newmahr's book, I feel as though the first two chapters need to be taken together to re-examine them in the light of what follows.
In Chapter 1, Newmahr describes the people she found, and a huge amount of this resonates strongly with my own personal experience, and I see it reflected in several people I have met through BDSM. Many of the key elements that Newmahr identifies hinge on marginality of various kinds, which forms both a description of the people, and Newmahr's explanation of what the SM community means (particularly to those who are a part of it). Since this does resonate so strongly, I am going to use my personal experiences to talk about what Newmahr's findings mean to me.
Possibly the strongest point of disagreement I have is on Newmahr's assertion of the role of "Incidental Androgyny", a concept that readers may recall resurfaces in
her analysis of SM archetypes and gender. Even there, I found much that was recognisable. It was just on a few points that I wanted to ask questions or raise challenges.
One of the most obvious dimensions of exclusion that Newmahr identifies, and indeed the one she says she noticed first, was body shape. Specifically, the number of fat people. People who read my blog regularly know that I self-identify as a "tubby bitch" (referencing both this dimension, and the "incidental androgyny" dimension in a single phrase!) I think of the people I have met in BDSM and it doesn't seem to me like a great percentage of them share my girth, but equally, several of them might be considered on the larger end of the "normal" range (and yes, I know that that term is associated with a value judgement in modern society, and that definition of "normal" is often not closely related to the mathematical concepts related to the normal distribution!) I can certainly see how an outsider coming in for the first time might perceive my community to be predominantly overweight.
Where fat was not an issue, other variations still tended to site the bodies of the people Newmahr met as outside the norm: Newmahr cites examples of extreme height (both excess and lack of), and unusually large breasts.
Newmahr suggests (and from the stuff I've read about fat acceptance and disability awareness, this sounds like a commonly-recognised argument) that this led to society "other-gendering" the non-normative bodies of people before they joined the scene.
This leads to the argument that:
In Caeden, these everyday performances of masculinity and femininity are rare… Rather than a gender-bending effort or sex-role ambivalence, this nonconformity appears as the absence of either aspirations or traits necessary to conform to conventional gender standards."
...
Neither butch nor femme, these (usually heterosexual) women and men do not follow or overturn the rules of gender presentation. They simply live outside of them. …this 'incidental' androgyny is less an actively constituted gender than what we are left with when we do not 'do' gender quite so fully or quite so well.
As someone who identifies as a "failed" man, in that I do not seem to know how to perform masculinity well, Newmahr's discussion of "gender-incompetent bodies" rings strongly true for me.
The question that bothers me, and where I feel as though Newmahr is missing something (which may say more about the specifics of the community she studied than about any flaws in her analysis), is where trans folks fit into this, and other concepts of deliberate gender-play (such as "forced feminisation" and crossdressing), which seem to have a strong element in UK BDSM. Newmahr discusses that women in the scene generally in their daily lives did not make much effort towards normative beauty standards such as make-up or clothing choice.
As I say, maybe there was not much crossdressing of any kind as a kink in the Caeden scene; maybe at the time, there were no people who openly identified themselves as trans. It is difficult to remember how much trans rights have moved (and how far they still have to go, of course) in the past decade, and I am not familiar with the situation in the USA or how that has changed in that period.
However, the role of "forced feminisation" in particular is something that I think should be opened up to feminist analysis of the type that Newmahr engages in with her study. Personally, I find forced feminisation to be extraordinarily misogynist in nature, with the apparent assumption that one of the most humiliating things to have happen is to be rendered feminine. With gender/SM orientation combinations, I would like to explore all four (male top, feminine top, male bottom, feminine bottom) but when it comes to bottoming, humiliation - or even the hint that I am "supposed" to be humiliated by something - is a real hard limit. However, I feel that the idea is so prevalent that a male bottom crossdressed is being subjected to humiliation, that even though I do not view being feminine or female as in any way a humiliation, feeling confident that the top shared my view and respected my femininity as a bottom would be very hard.
The impression I have in general is also that there are (in the Uk scene anyway) conscious efforts at gender performance (or non-gender performance, in the case of projected androgyny) that is different from what Newmahr describes in her work. While the incidental androgyny that Newmahr recognises is a basis for this, my suspicion is that there is either conscious resistance of this or deliberate embracing of it (I also think that some of my own gender performance is deliberately embracing other-genderedness of my non-conforming body). It would definitely be interesting to have an outsider's view in the way that Newmahr represented such an outsider initially.
It is worth noting, on that last point, that IIRC there have been a couple of non-hostile news/magazine reports in which a reporter attended a fetish club, and similar observations about appearance turned up in their reports.
Geekiness
This was a dimension that I found at once surprising to be identified, and yet, when I thought about the shared interests at the munch I attend, it really is something that seems to have a high prevalence in kinky people, based on personal experience.
Newmahr references this strongly both in discussing peoples self-identity, and in discussing the sense of community.
She notes several points where the overlap might have an explanation, such as some of her respondents explained the overlap in terms of use of the imagination, or imaginary worlds, and the suggestion that, "Outsiderness cultivates open-mindedness, which in turn reinforces outsiderness," with the idea that the unusualness of science-fiction could prepare the mind for the unusualness of BDSM scenes, enabling much easier acceptance. She also offers:
Generally claimed with pride in Caeden, geekiness serves as the explanation for several aspects of SM interest: the affinity for complicated techniques and well-made toys, the stamina to practice skills to the level of mastery, and the desire and ability to deconstruct meanings and experiences of SM."
I am somewhat unconvinced by this, and wonder how much of this conclusion is drawn from her respondents, and how much is her own rationalisation. While I recognise many of these factors either in myself or in my local community, I question that geekiness serves as an explanation for them - at least, I do not feel that it is a significant factor in my own exhibiting of those traits.
"Coming Home"
Newmahr explains the importance of the sense of community in large part in terms of its importance as a place of "being understood". This is a large element in terms of what distinguishes insiders from outsiders (which is a key point in any community's self-identification as a community).
Newmahr concludes Chapter 1:
Entrance into the community provides immediate reassurance that kindred spirits – and bodies and minds – exist. This observable validation suggests to participants that their interest in SM must somehow be connected to their other marginal experiences. By providing them the chance to cast SM as the (essentialist) explanation for why they have been different all along, the community reaffirms a broader and farther-reaching identity of marginality. This identity trumps the pre-community sources of nonconformity and highly values living life 'outside the box.'
Early in Chapter 2, she discusses one respondent's decision to join the community in similar terms:
Despite Seth's conceptualization elsewhere of BDSM as a primal need, he entered the SM scene in order to find companionship – to be touched. With his acute awareness of loneliness that came from feeling like an outsider in all other social situations, Seth's decision to join the SM community was fuelled, consciously, by a desire to join a community.
I am, again, sceptical about this framing of the attraction of BDSM communities - again, my own personal story could equally draw on the SF community (and especially filkers) as the community I joined in order to "be understood" in the way that Newmahr discusses Seth doing. At the same time, is it not the case that all choices of who to hang out with, are based in part on how much we feel that those people relate to us well, and understand us? That would make "being understood" a null phrase. Like the rule for assessing a politician's speech, always ask oneself, "Would someone say the opposite as a self-description?" Since I cannot imagine many people saying, "I want to be a part of a group where I cannot make myself understood," it seems as though this is an example of such an argument.
Of course, I have over-simplified Newmahr's text to reach that point; the key element is not "being understood", but precisely, the feeling of not being understood elsewhere. Newmahr describes her respondents' personal narratives and histories as, "[They] did not feel like outsiders merely at an awkward point in their lives; they were outsiders throughout their lives." Later, she states:
The feeling of social acceptance many people reported upon entering the scene, then, was an acceptance not of their SM interest, but of their more general outsiderness.
This leads to a curious question for me.
That question is, "What, precisely, about the BDSM scene makes it a point of being understood, that could not be found elsewhere?"
My personal narrative that draws me to BDSM is that my understanding of my BDSM sexuality meant that I felt extremely othered and not understood
about my sexuality, and it is precisely to be able to accept this big part of who I am that I am drawn to join a community of others. I do not know enough history of gay and lesbian rights to know whether or not similar communities formed for similar reasons, although here seem to be echoes and discussions of that sort in LGB rights debates in the blogging world. The principle of the "support group" is nowadays pretty common, too.
More to the point - again, my personal narrative is that when I felt outsider-y because of my geekiness, I joined the SF fan community (a little bit - enough to feel like I wasn't a freak for liking the stuff!) and particularly, the filking community (a lot more, because I am more of a music-geek than I am an SF-geek, and I am quite a lot of an SF-geek!)
So the question in my mind is, "Why BDSM, and not SF, or MENSA, or whatever organisation exists for the marginality you've experienced?" My "why?" is clear: BDSM itself was a dimension of feeling marginal!
On that point, Newmahr discusses the ubiquity of the "how-I-found-the-scene" story:
Reflections like this are typical in Caeden; the 'how-I-found-the-scene' narrative seems obligatory in introductions and discussions of identity, and the metaphor of the SM community as home is a widely accepted component of community discourse.
And later, offers:
The paths people take to the SM community in Caeden reveal the interdependence of identity formation, community seeking, and community building. Some, like Laura and Jack, sought the SM community specifically in order to validate and share an SM interest they had already recognised.
Evidently, I am more like the Laura and Jack mentioned here!
One respondent explained it differently:
For Kyle, it might as well have just happened to be SM. Interestingly he does not ask why people come to SM, but instead frames human behaviour in terms of surrendering (or not) to social inhibitions. SM interest, in this view, is not at all rare, but pursuing it is; therefore, the scene consists of people who have the courage and, presumably, the impetus, to seek it out.
I have to say that there was a period of my development in BDSM when I felt like this. I now consider that view to have been immature and, to be honest, quite offensive. My favourite formulation comes from Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman, writing for the character "Sam" in their Doctor Who novel, "Vampire Science": "Maybe they're not forbidden desires. Maybe I just don't bloody well desire them!" (Not talking about BDSM, but the quotation is sufficiently non-specific as to be applied to a whole range of similar suggestions!)
The reason I reject (and indeed, dislike) Kyle's formulation is that I have heard a similar argument put forward by the polyamory community to explain why more people aren't poly and frankly, I just don't see poly as being a good idea: it's not that I regard it as "forbidden", I just don't particularly desire it, and view the potential costs as too great (I struggle to manage one-on-one relationships, and view poly as being potentially too great a complication for my poor brain to handle). What really brought this home to me was when I tried a similar argument about BDSM on a 'nilla sex-blogger and was given the same thing back - "It's not forbidden - I just don't get anything from it, thanks."
Newmahr argues that:
Regardless of whether SM exists as one of a multitude of new 'flavors' of life one might (or might not) be inclined to try, or as a preexisting proclivity for the activities themselves, Kyle's observation is consistent with the life stories of my respondents.
And supports this later by saying,
Regardless, the 'how-I-found-the-scene' stories are constructed and retold precisely because many people view their discovery of the scene as a pivotal moment in their lives. Although some narratives are constructed around top/bottom identities, many are not. Moreover, among narratives in which an essentialist SM identity figures prominently, many are tales of finding the scene and meaning in the community, quite apart from topping and bottoming specifically. the members of this community tell stories of coming to the community not because they felt like sadists and masochists, but because they felt they were different.
This simply does not match what I have heard from anyone I have talked to about finding SM identity. While I have heard a "This is what I was missing all my life!" narrative, that does not seem to be finding the community first, and then an identity within it. Typically, the story was being introduced to it by a partner, or stumbling across some BDSM literature or erotica, and finding it sparked a reaction that was new and intense. Otherwise, people describe being into it from very young ages, and it playing a part in childhood playground games.
Interestingly, I suspect that this may in part be a difference due to the public play scene that Newmahr studied, and the more private lifestyle that I prefer. Newmahr notes that:
The open-mindedness that is taken for granted among community members is clearest when outsiders venture into the community for the first time. While some newcomers integrate fairly seamlessly, others, particularly those who do not appear to necessarily live lives on the margins of social acceptance, find that the scene is not what they envisioned.
After reading Newmahr's book, I suspect that I would feel extremely put off by the styles and manner of the Caeden scene. While Newmahr discusses the debate of whether public play is necessary to be part of "the scene" (most people felt it was not), I think I would feel like an outsider there. The social situations described in
Chapter 3, for example, would certainly have put me off. I would still have attended social events from time to time but suspect I would not have felt at home in those social groupings, the way I feel at home with my self-identification as kinky.
It occurs to me that those people who
are keen on trying BDSM as, "one of a multitude of new 'flavors' of life," might be much more likely to approach via the public play scene, and thus would fit in more easily (being open-minded and adventurous types!) than I would have done.
Social Awkwardness
Under her heading "Geekiness", Newmahr describes the Caeden community as exhibiting several social behaviours that she considers to be signs of social awkwardness:
Pervasive social awkwardness in Caeden includes excessive fidgeting, disclosure of highly personal information to strangers, and behaviours that would suggest an inability or disinclination to listen to others (such as avoiding eye contact and nodding randomly while engaged in one-on-one conversation). This social awkwardness is normative in the community, but more extreme examples – what would likely be considered social ineptitude outside of the community – is also common. For example the tendency to speak one's mind bluntly and without qualification is typical, and, importantly, usually appears to escape notice. Further, what would elsewhere be called 'boasting' is a primary means of communication in Caeden; popular topics of conversation include what the speaker does well and what impressive things the speaker has done. This communication pattern is an accepted part of the discourse of the community; it is not identified as bragging and does not prompt negative responses.
...
During my time in the field, I frequently found myself unable to communicate effectively through normative bodily cues. Backing away from a speaker who was standing too close often resulted in the speaker closing in on me, and even walking away sometimes led to being followed by the busily chatting "offender."
The first thing that struck me was that for someone studying cultures, to ascribe a value judgement such as "social awkwardness" to differences in relating to one another seemed to me to be slightly odd. There are social norms in different areas of the UK that to people from other parts would be considered "social awkwardness" (I recall tales of when my father, from a working-class Northern background met my mother's middle-class Londoner parents for the first time, for example!) I am sure that there are similar cultural differences just within the USA. Then there's the way that us Brits perceive people from other English-speaking countries (and that's before we even get to people from other cultural backgrounds than that!)
Interestingly, Newmahr writes that:
It is not unusual for community members to have relatively little everyday contact with people outside the scene. Even among people with conventional work lives and contact with their families, many report that their 'vanilla' (people outside the community) friendships have dwindled or disappeared since joining the community.
This implies that it really is a separate culture of its own. This isolationism also seems not to be all that prevalent in UK BDSM communities, and in fact, I have seen many discussions about the socially awkward people who "spoil it for the real BDSMers".
Further evidence of Caeden's isolationist culture is given when Newmahr discusses the amount of time devoted to the "scene":
Players are able to, and many do, successfully arrange their lives around scene activities – politically troubling as the term is, avoiding 'normals' is often achieved through participation in the Caeden SM community... During any given week, there are at least five SM-related events one can attend, of varying types
In her introductory "creative representation" for chapter 2, Newmahr describes how each event can end up taking up nearly a whole night.
This intensity is completely foreign to my experience: I think the local region has on average 1 or 2 events a week (depending on how far you're willing to travel; for those who are less able or willing, the number is smaller still). If we travel to London, then maybe it's twice that.
Thus, we might argue that the Caeden community members are socially adapted to the society in which they largely live and experience other people: the Caeden community. The differences in my local community, which has much more contact with non-kink folks, may have something to do with this.
I was interested by the traits that Newmahr identifies, and whether they do show adaptation to the specific needs of SM community life, and put some thought into this. The traits mentioned were:
- Excessive fidgeting
- Disclosure of highly personal information to strangers
- Behaviours that would suggest an inability or disinclination to listen to others (such as avoiding eye contact and nodding randomly while engaged in one-on-one conversation)
- The tendency to speak one's mind bluntly and without qualification
- What would elsewhere be called 'boasting'
- Not responding to "normative bodily cues"
I don't think fidgeting can be explained as adapted behaviour in this context, and the "normative bodily cues" that Newmahr discusses may or may not be.
Remembering that BDSM community membership is
already a disclosure of highly personal information (at least, that's how I experience it - it's a public declaration of sexuality!) and moreover revolves around sexual conduct, it seems reasonable to suggest that the boundaries of what constitutes "highly personal" and "stranger" in that context may feel quite different.
This goes back (or forward) to the questions I posed in
discussing Chapter 8, about intimacy:
The big question to which I kept returning as Newmahr built on this argument was this: How different is "different enough", and what happens when two different people have different ideas about how different is "enough", and therefore take differing feelings of intimacy from an event? Is there a way in which we can look at something and say whether or not it is "different enough" to constitute intimacy? If there isn't, what follows from that?
Perhaps surprisingly, given my openness about my BDSM identity, one of the people who got to know me best described me like this:
[Snowdrop] takes time to get to know because he is a private person and quite shy to start with. Given time and when he comes to trust you, you get to know the real [Snowdrop].
Information that I share on this blog, or in kink-specific environments, is coded differently for "highly personal" than the same information is in vanilla spaces (and regular readers will know that I occasionally allude to certain topics that are completely off-limits even here).
This is closely linked to the reasons for "boasting". In
Chapter 4's discussion of status in the community, Newmahr writes:
The reinforcement of good reputations is considered good etiquette rather than poor taste. Participants speak very highly of good players with such frequency that it seems obligatory to do so.
It seems evident from this that there is some importance attached to people knowing what someone is good at doing: both the speaker and others. Given the risk element that is inherent in most types of SM play, and the fact that people are involved primarily for pleasurable experiences, the purpose of the community is served most effectively by having this communication in the open. It could be that it is an adapted social norm within the Caeden community. Similarly, being open about certain types of "personal information" might be read as an essential part of accomplishing the purpose of the community.
Arguably, the "bluntness" is a further example of this kind of communication adaptation: the primacy of clearly communicated consent puts a premium on being open and direct about communication in general. It should be added that such directness was one of the biggest things about my father's personality that caught my maternal grandparents off-guard. Differing levels of directness seem to be one of the commonest causes of (mis)perceptions about whether a culture is "rude" or "polite", with cultures who are more direct being coded as "rude" even though they really are not any different, just communicating differently (this suggestion goes back at least as far as Deborah Tannen's "That's Not What I Meant", so I don't think I'm saying anything too unusual here). The same friend who described me as "shy", also said, "I love [Snowdrop]'s honesty, although he's not exactly one to sugar the pill!" - I put that down to the socialisation I received from my parental background.
Interestingly, many of the traits that Newmahr identifies as "social awkwardness", seem to reflect in various ways the information about Introversion given by Carl King's
10 Myths About Introverts.
For example, on being "blunt":
Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.
I wonder to what extent the stuff about neurotransmitters and overstimulation might also reflect things like fidgeting, lack of eye-contact and so on.
I don't
know of any proper research into any correlation between introversion and kink identity (I'm on Kinky-Ass Introverts on Fetlife and there don't appear to be any references to it there, though I haven't looked carefully), but I do get the feeling that there may be a correlation. If so, then maybe Newmahr's identification of SM specifically as a site of general acceptance and people who "get it" may be based in this neurological/personality trait - as a place where for once, us Introverted types don't have to struggle with an Extroverts' world.
(It would also provide a curious route into talking about essentialist narratives of kink origin, if it were true!)
Interestingly, on a thread about "People that talk too much" on Kinky-Ass Introverts, one commenter noted:
Kind of just...space out when people blab on. Most of the time its about something I cannot relate to (example: sports, television) so I have to nod a lot and raise my eyebrows so I don't come off as rude (well that sounds rude lol). Over all Its just annoying when you cant get a single word in.
(not sure if any one else gets this but...)It gets worse when they come RIGHT up to you where you can actually feel the heat of their breath and their spit hit your face. What ever happened to "personal space?"
Two points that Staci Newmahr noticed in Caeden. The K-AI commenters seemed to relate to the personal space issue particularly, but also seemed to relate to it happening in vanilla spaces as well as kink ones:
It's true that different people have different senses of the right amount of personal space in a conversation. But when the introvert takes a step back to put more space in between, don't follow with a step forward.
To which someone replied:
I hate it when people do that too, or when they point out that you just took a step back and are kind of jerks about it.
It is interesting that Newmahr identifies "nodding randomly" as indicating disinterest, where here it's suggested as a way to indicate interest that isn't felt. One thing I know I do sometimes is nod and try to look expectant - this is my attempt to butt in politely: "I have something to add to that point, if I may?"
To conclude: I recognise a lot about the kinksters I know (and about myself) in Newmahr's description of the Caeden community; the strongest differences are on the "how-I-found-the-scene" narratives and what they mean. I was also troubled by the association of "social awkwardness", but intrigued by what it might imply about connections with introversion.
On origins, I think that there are several different ways in which people end up in BDSM; I think there are essentialist causes and there are other, social or personal, causes later; Newmahr's consideration in the 2008 paper that her shift in perspective suggested, "One can indeed learn to become a sadomasochist." I think all these routes are possible, and trying to trace the root cause of my BDSM interest leads as far back as I have memories, but I know people in the scene who have "learned to be sadomasochists."