Half-Nelson
rang@theguidon.com
Hidden amidst the Reproductive Health Bill hullabaloo, the Anti-Obscenity and Pornography Bill was presented to the Senate last July to little fanfare. Also known as House Bill 3305, the bill was created “to give special value to the dignity of every human being,” according to Senator Manny Villar’s introduction, and to protect the youth and women “from the pernicious effects of obscenity and pornography.”
As someone who cringes when he sees pre-adolescent girls dancing like a Pussycat Doll on noontime shows, I recognize the need for guidance. Children are growing up faster all the time, exposed at increasingly earlier ages to hyper-sexualized images. Their sexuality is thrust onto them before they know what to do with it, or what implications flaunting it on a noontime show has. This bill, however, is not what we need.
In the bill, obscene refers to anything “that is indecent or offensive or contrary to good customs or religious beliefs…,” “that tends to corrupt or deprive the human mind, or is calculated to excite impure imagination (…) regardless of the motive…” According to the bill, examples of “obscene” are showing, depicting, or describing sexual acts, human sexual organs or the female breasts, nude human bodies, any erotic feelings.
Pornography refers to objects or subjects of movies, music records, paintings, literature, or any other media that “excite, stimulate or arouse impure thoughts and prurient interest.”
Although I am no means a legal expert, I find the means by which the bill defines “obscene” and “pornography” incredibly subjective. It says that anything that is indecent is obscene. But then, who defines what indecent is? 1950s Hollywood thought it was indecent for married couples to be portrayed sleeping on the same bed. On the other hand, the early 2000s TV show 7th Heaven, a multiple Family Televisions Awards winner, regularly features their married couple as still having an active sex life. The definition of what is or isn’t decent is always changing.
On the other hand, the bill says anything can be labeled “pornography” if anyone thinks “impure thoughts” because of it, “regardless of the motive…” In other words, I’m sorry Dr. Rizal, because my high school class giggled through El Filibusterismo’s sexual innuendos, your novel is porn.
And then there’s the clause that renders anything contrary to religious beliefs obscene. Whose religious beliefs should we avoid being contrary to? If the bill is referring to Catholicism, are we saying that Muslims and people of other religions aren’t allowed to be vocal about their beliefs? Moreover, last time I checked, church and state has been separate since the Malolos Congress.
I don’t think there’s a need to “protect” young Filipinos from landmark novels or other religions. No matter what censorship is imposed on these “obscene” works, humans have a natural curiosity to sexuality and the youth will find a way to obtain these. Sexuality, after all, in case anyone forgets, is normal.
Instead, what the youth need is someone to explain that their sexual organs are not “obscene” but rather, God-given gifts that make reproduction possible. What the youth need is education, which the controversial Reproductive Health Bill can offer. Funnily enough, sex education is essentially illegal if 3305 is passed. After all, anything that arouses impure thought is obscene regardless of the motive. Hormonally-charged teenagers learning about their bodies and their rights? Definitely illegal.
