Let’s get on the same page when it comes to discussing diversity.

A couple weeks ago, I shared this article with you about the blackness gap in sex tech. In an effort to move the sex tech community a more diversity and safe space for everyone, I now bring to you some commonly used terms and definitions when discussing inclusivity.

Blackness gap

There are many variations of this phrase. However, each definition addresses the fact that there’s a glaring difference in areas like sex tech—as well as in wealth and socioeconomic status, education, employment, and overall quality of life—between the black experience and those of our white counterparts.

This spectrum of privilege and lack gives us all an opportunity to learn and strategize ways to bridge these divisions to create a more equitable and enjoyable sexual playing field for us all.

Afrofuturism

Wikipedia defines “Afrofuturism” as a cultural aesthetic, as well as a philosophy of science and of history that explores the intersection of the African Diaspora with technology. I like to think of Afrofuturism as a movement with a rich history built on the creativity and innovations from the great black thought leaders and artists including Alondra Nelson, Octavia Butler, and Samuel R. Delany.

They are responsible for manifesting and shaping pop culture phenomenons like Black Panther, Parliament Funkadelic, AFROPUNK, and the work of Janelle Monae to name a few. Afrofuturism is particularly important as its very nature forces us all to push beyond the heterogenized black identities we’ve become accustomed to and instead imagine and create spaces where black and other marginalized communities are able to thrive, and in this context, experience liberated sex and pleasure.

Intersectionality

This term was coined by the prolific scholar and co-founder of the African American Policy Forum, Kimberlé Crenshaw. Intersectionality was introduced as a way to bring visibility to the routine exclusion of black and other women of color from white-led feminist movements

It has helped address the ways social justice advocates can conceptualize inclusive movements that view all oppressions as linked and subjugated by a common threat; that all of us who are oppressed (and simultaneously privileged) based on our race, gender identity, class, sexual orientation, disability status, documentation status, etc., can find unity in our struggles against a common oppressive system. Intersectional sex technologies incorporate the experiences and perspectives of all and especially marginalized identities.

Kyriarchy

Introduced by Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza and taking a page from the framework of intersectionality listed above, social justice advocates now go beyond the limits of the patriarchy and look to the kyriarchy as a more encompassing concept to address the complex and multiplicative social structure of privilege and oppressions that we all collectively experience in a myriad of ways.

Vendors, advertisers, editors, and developers of sex technologies would do well to consider the kyriarchy when creating products and services for their audiences: how can we grow inclusivity? How do we utilize and reclaim oppressive influences to fulfill our sexual desires>

Misogynoir

Unfortunately, misogynoir can be seen frequently in some sex tech spaces and especially in pornography featuring black women. Simply put, misogynoir flows from the definition of misogyny to more specifically describe the hatred of and prejudice toward black women and the ways in which they manifest.

While we see many kinds of representations of white women in sex tech, we can see examples of misogynoir in the fetishization of black women as sexual playthings for white men or “ebony” sex categories only, or the exoticization of black women’s bodies reduced to sought after parts (big buttocks, big lips).

We can truly revolutionize sex tech if we keep an eye to avoid misogynoiristic practices by extending representation past black women with big butts and straightened hair, but also to women with natural hair, no hair, various body types and features, and that identify with a panoply of sexual orientations. We can make a great first step in this process by having more black women at the concept stage, too.

White fragility

This term is also known as white sensitivity and was recently added to the Oxford dictionary, which speaks volumes about the progress of activists’ hard work to bring issues of racism and oppression to the forefront of our conversations on society and culture.

White fragility describes the defensiveness and anger that many white folks exhibit when discussing issues of white privilege and racism. This is a preferred term among many racial justice advocates and eliminates the inherent bias and lack of accountability in the term “White supremacy.”

As mentioned in my previous article, if we are to build truly liberated and inclusive spaces for sexual exploration, we need sex tech developers and companies to acknowledge white fragility and actively make room for sexual expression and the consumption of sex tech products by people of color.

Image sources: Polyphonic

The post 6 Inclusive Sex Tech Definitions That Can Help Bust the Blackness Gap appeared first on Future of Sex.

The industry must do a better job embracing diversity.

Late last year, black Twitter was on fire with jokes about Sophia the Robot and futuristic sex—
and a hostile takeover of the human race. But let’s put that aside for now.

Apart from some Twitter users saying they would be totally down for sex with Sophia, the joke seemed to revolve around the perception that it’s quite outlandish for black people to have any sort of sexual interaction with inanimate objects. The implication was that robot sex belongs to the rich white people with kinky tastes, not your average black.

I can’t help but wonder how much of black Twitter’s reaction is an aversion to new advancements in sex technology versus a lack of visual representation in these spaces and conversations. An informal poll of my progressive black friends with backgrounds in reproductive justice and sexuality affirms the perception that sex tech is not seen as available to black consumers, or at least not heavily marketed to us.

The ‘blackness gap’

I found further confirmation of my theory in a cursory Internet search of sex dolls that revealed surprisingly few with black skin tones, with perhaps one or two thrown in for good measure. The same can be said of searches for remote sex, virtual reality, body augmentation, and sex tech, all with a noticeable lack of melanin in the people shown in ads and stock photos.

One search yielded promising results with an article on Neurospeculative AfroFeminism, a virtual reality art installation by Hyphen-Labs. And while the project certainly held my interest, the emphasis on advancements in science, technology, finance and art left me curious for integration with advancements in sex tech.

Even more striking, however, was the project’s fixation on “neurocosmetology” and the description of a young black girl switching up her “adorable pigtail hair puffs” to “high-tech hair extensions” and receiving brain stimulation to boot via the so-called Octavia Electrodes. This focus on the salon as the primary forum for black women to convene and unwind strikes me as pitifully out of touch and limiting.

Consumer power

My searches make plain to me that black buyers are not prioritized, or at the very least that our representation is disregarded in these ventures. And that’s somewhat puzzling, because black people spend a lot of money. Even before the advent of the film Black Panther, black consumers have maintained the title of the largest people-of-color (POC) group in the marketplace.

Black folks also watch more TV than any other race group. Projections for black spending in the U.S. is estimated at 1.4 trillion by 2020, representing a 275% booming increase over the last 20 years. Given these stats, paying attention to black consumers just seems like it should be considered a best practice in business strategy.

Apparently, most businesses haven’t gotten that memo yet. While black folks continue to be seen as the originators of popular culture and black income power is undoubtedly on the rise, marketing and advertising plans neglect nuanced and authentic approaches to black audiences: of a reported $75 billion spent on media advertising, only $2.24 billion was focused on black consumers.

First steps to filling the ‘gap’

Inclusivity is an issue for marginalized peoples everywhere, and black bodies in sex tech proves no exception. Fortunately, we can approach the issue of diversity and inclusion in sexual advancements in similar ways as we do in other spaces:

• Hire more black people. Make sure your teams have black employees in positions to design websites, games, toys, and lead authentic marketing campaigns to the plurality of the black community.
• Focus groups with more black folks. So many companies would avoid the inevitable controversy and boycotting that follows ridiculous and offensive ads if they took this to heart. Just as we don’t all look alike, all black people don’t like the same things. Limiting the ask to one singular person for feedback on a product or service is not going to cut it.
• Make space in sex tech communities for POC and black folks to be whole humans, not niche, exotic fetish categories. This resonates with me heavily as a black woman. The few representations of black folks we see in sex tech spaces are caricatures of human beings. The trope of the big-butted, ample-bosomed black woman with full lips and chemically straightened hair is tired as hell, yet that’s what’s readily available to consumers. And the few visible black men in these searches seem to be limited to the Mandingo archetype and only when paired with white, usually blonde women. And to that end…
• Actively work with us to dismantle white fragility. Seriously, it touches every aspect of our lives, including perceptions of our sexual expressions and the ways in which we are allowed to approach sexual play. The representations out there are not only outdated and unappealing to black consumers, they actually reinforce harmful stereotypes that follow us in our daily interactions and can even influence policies that critically affect our lives.

A good start to dismantling white fragility in this way can range from simple choices such as calling out racist and misogynoiristic (misogyny directed at black women) comments in one-on-one interactions, to the more complex and far-reaching actions like educating yourself and others to learn the ways that systemic racism permeates the narratives around black sexuality. Another impactful move can be contacting retailers and companies directly to advocate for better, more inclusive products and services.

It may seem daunting, but this inclusivity work is doable and worthy of the effort. The more we band together to reject the white-dominated spaces, we create pathways for more liberated and versatile sexual experiences. And that’s a win for everyone.

Image sources: Grant Source, WoCinTech Chat

The post There’s a ‘Blackness Gap’ in Sex Tech–Here’s How We Can Fix It appeared first on Future of Sex.