The App-Driven Web Is Too Prudish for Sex

Sex and the internet have been deeply intertwined for decades. Ever since the first nudie pic made its way online, adult content has helped the web grow and mature—and the discretion afforded by the internet has encouraged and increased consumption of porn and other sexually focused sites, making our dirty little secret a normal, accepted aspect of life.

But as smartphones and tablets have moved more and more traffic off the open web and into apps, sexual content is getting left behind. And it's not just because of corporate anti-porn policies that keep nipples out of the App Store and off Facebook and Instagram.

Granted, corporate gatekeepers haven't helped matters. Earlier this year, pioneering porn magazine Playboy announced that it would be removing nudity from its pages. Though there were a number of factors that led to this decision, it can't be denied that Apple's ban on boobs, which kept Playboy out of the iOS Newsstand, played at least a small part, or that the increasing importance of anti-nudity Facebook in publishers' promotional strategies made going SFW an especially appealing strategy.

In an environment where publishers are increasingly reliant on third parties like Apple and Facebook for both distribution and ad revenue, nudity tends to make content far less saleable, maxims about sex being a guaranteed sell aside.

And it's not just explicit nudity that's persona non grata. Last year, HappyPlayTime, an app devoted to educating about female masturbation, using an adorable cartoon vulva as a guide, was banned from the Apple App Store. Though it's not X-rated, relying far more on abstract art than graphic depictions, the focus on masturbation was far too risque for Apple's delicate sensibilities. When sex-themed apps do make it into the app store, it's usually because they're explicitly health focused (like the NYC Condom Finder or University of Oregon's Sex Positive) or just deeply unsexy sex apps like Spreadsheets, which promises better banging through aggressive data collection.

Over at Facebook, things are even worse: Apple may tolerate content that focuses on sexual health, rather than pleasure, but Facebook isn't even comfortable with that. Last month, the social networking platform banned ads for the kGoal, a smart pelvic floor trainer, citing the fact that Minna Life, the device's parent company, also happens to sell sex toys. [Disclosure: I provide consulting services to Minna Life.]

Facebook has made it clear that it hopes to one day replace the wild, untameable internet with its own sanitized, corporate content platform—a goal, it should be noted, that Apple seems to share—and if does, it's pretty much guaranteed that content platform will be missing the filthy content that's defined the online world for most of its life.

And yet, that's not the whole reason why sex-related content so desperately needs the open web. Focusing exclusively on the walled gardens of family-friendly apps and platforms misses the larger, more important point: for most of us, apps aren't actually all that ideal for sex-related content.

In theory, they should be: tablets and smartphones are far more discreet than laptops, and there's no question that a touchscreen interface can offer an added level of interactivity that can be extra appealing for erotic media.

But apps also require a certain level of buy-in that can be intimidating to more squeamish sex fans. In order to make use of an app, you have to download and install it on your phone. That level of commitment already poses a barrier for some; if you're hesitant about diving into the seedy world of sex, being asked to confirm that, yes, you really do want to download "Hot SeXXX 3D" might be enough to convince you that, no, you actually don't.

And then there's the permanence problem. There's a reason that private browsing mode is known as porn mode—and why many of us frantically clear our history the second we're done reading about how to properly fist. Though there are certainly exceptions, most of us prefer to consume sexual content as privately as possible, preferably in a way that leaves no digital trace.

But apps don't work like that. Unless you're fond of some cloak and dagger style setup where you install a naughty app whenever you need it and delete it as soon as you're done, apps take up permanent space on whatever device you install them on, meaning they're always there to remind you (and whoever else might make use of your phone) of your X-rated activities, whether or not you're actually in the mood for them.

None of this is to say that sex-related content is going anywhere, or that porn won't make the transition to mobile. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Mobile traffic's already been a pretty big boon for sexually explicit websites. (PornHub reported earlier this year that just over 60 percent of its traffic comes from mobile—not surprising given the added discretion and easy one handed access.) It's just that that traffic is still going through mobile browsers, not apps. But as Apple and its peers divert attention away from mobile browsers in favor of Apple News and other tightly controlled mobile solutions, that solution might get a little less stable.

That's something we should all be worried about, even if we're not furiously masturbating to rimming videos covertly accessed through Safari's private mode. Because right now, the web is the best option out there for thoughtful, explicit, and occasionally risque sex content. After HappyPlayTime received its final rejection from Apple, the program was reformatted as a web-based mobile app—one that can be accessed through a phone's browser, with no installation required. Without the web, HappyPlayTime wouldn't have had that option, and the users depending on it for their masturbation education would, ultimately, have ended up fucked—though by corporate censorship, and not their own hands.