A new bill in Canada, S-210, championed by Senator Julie Miville-Dechêne, is stirring controversy and raising eyebrows among women’s rights advocates. Aimed at shielding the youth from potentially harmful pornographic content online, the bill ironically embarks on a precarious path, one that could inadvertently underscore and perpetuate the very stereotypes and violence it seeks to mitigate.

At its core, Canadian bill S-210 proposes a seemingly benign intervention: mandating age verification services to cordon off adult content from underage internet users. The rationale ties into a broader agenda to curb violence against women, predicated on the assumption that early exposure to pornography fosters violence in men as they age. But as noble as its intentions may seem, the bill’s execution raises fundamental questions about freedom, privacy, and, notably, the portrayal and treatment of women’s bodies.

The contentious point lies in the bill’s definition of pornography, which—astonishingly—commences with the depiction of women’s breasts. This choice of starting point not only pathologizes the female body but risks exacerbating the stigma women face, cementing an archaic narrative that women’s bodies are inherently sexualized entities and, by extension, responsible for inciting violence.

The historical backdrop of S-210 is no less troubling, with its roots deeply entangled in anti-choice, anti-women, and anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric, further evidenced by its connections to recognized hate groups. This lineage, coupled with the bill’s expansive reach—now threatening to encompass all platforms where sexually explicit material might lurk—sets a chilling precedent for the surveillance and censorship of women’s voices online.

Critics of the bill, myself included, argue for a nuanced approach to tackling the issue at hand. Rather than embarking on a crusade against pornography and, by implication, policing women’s sexuality, we should champion initiatives that foster media literacy and critical engagement with online content. Additionally, empowering parents and guardians through education on device-based content filters could be a balanced strategy, ensuring protection without infringing on rights or perpetuating harmful stereotypes.

Yet, amid the bill’s controversy, one cannot help but reflect on the broader societal underpinnings that give such legislation traction. My personal journey, from a teenage critic of pornography to a victim of non-consensual image sharing, sheds light on the deeply ingrained societal mechanisms that weaponize women’s sexuality. This bill, in its current form, does little to dismantle those mechanisms; rather, it risks reinforcing them, perpetuating a cycle where women are held accountable for the violence inflicted upon them.

As we stand at this legislative crossroads, it is imperative that we choose a path that genuinely protects without harm, educates without stigma, and empowers without silencing. The answer does not lie in Canadian bill S-210 as it stands but in a collective commitment to understanding, empathy, and nuanced action. It’s time to reevaluate what protection means and who it is meant to serve.