What porn can't teach us about consent, intimacy & sex

Porn has become one of the most accessible, but least discussed, sources of sex education for so many of us. Years before we’ve had the chance to get out there and explore our sexuality, we’re being shown what it ‘should’ look like. 

We know that life isn’t like Hollywood films or picture-perfect TikToks with trending audio. In the same way, porn you find on Pornhub is not a reflection of what sex looks like for everyone, or what feels good for everyone. It’s a performance — and only a snapshot of a certain kind of sex. And for some, watching porn without a critical lens can risk warping our understanding of sex, relationships — and even our own bodies. 

So let’s talk about it.

What's the deal with porn?

You don’t tend to hear people outright admitting it, but porn has played some role in our understanding of sex — whether we sought it out or stumbled across it accidentally. 

Research shows that most Australian teenagers encounter porn by their early teens, many years before our first sexual experiences. A 2023 study found that many first see it unintentionally through pop-ups, social media, or links shared by friends.

As we get older, our relationship with porn often becomes more intentional. Some find it pleasurable or even informative, especially if we haven’t had access to holistic consent and sex ed elsewhere. This is particularly true for LGBTIQA+ young people, who often don’t see representations of themselves in general media, and receive significantly less relevant sex education compared to their straight peers.

The problem is, porn isn't made to depict reality or be educational. Like any form of entertainment, it takes creative license to present a fantasy. It allows you to make things more exciting, cuts key parts that aren’t as graphic like consent and aftercare, and uses a cast to curate a specific look, or do specific things.

The end product of most porn rarely shows what sex looks like for most people. The realities of off-screen intimacy — with its awkwardness, laughter, communication, breaks and adjustments — often get cut in favour of a polished fantasy.

‘Sexual scripts’ and expectations

We all can fall into patterns of thinking around sex and pleasure, based on what we’ve seen or heard. Whether that’s from TV, films, pornography, social media, or what our friends say. These are known as sexual scripts — they’re like unspoken rules or expectations about how sex is supposed to look, feel, or happen.

However, this expectation misses something important: There is no ‘standard’ version of sex and intimacy. While certain acts may be shown as ‘the norm,’ it doesn’t mean they feel good or right for everyone. 

These scripts are often so ingrained we don’t even realise we’re following them. They lead people to make assumptions — like thinking a partner will automatically enjoy a certain act, or even that they are meant to — without actually checking what they actually like. This could be assuming that everyone is meant to love giving and receiving oral or thinking that your partner finds rougher sex pleasurable every time… without ever actually asking if they do. 

On top of that, sexual scripts can make it harder for people to explore and figure out what they personally enjoy, especially when there are so many messages around us telling us what we’re supposed to like. 

When we bring those kinds of expectations into sex, it puts pressure on everyone, and that pressure can make things way less fun for everyone involved.

Consent? What Consent?

In mainstream porn:

• Consent is rarely explicitly shown or discussed
• Reluctance is often framed as something to be ‘overcome’ rather than respected
• Non-consensual or coercive encounters can be romanticised
• Safe sex practices like using a condom or other forms of contraception are largely absent

This creates a dangerous narrative that persistence pays off, or that consent isn't necessary.

Performance vs. reality

The sex depicted in porn is choreographed for the camera.

• Penetrative sex in pornography lasts much longer than the real-world average (which is about 5 and a half minutes).
• There's minimal focus on foreplay.
• Men apparently never lose erections or finish within the first few minutes (which is totally normal).
• Women reach orgasm quickly and reliably through penetration alone — despite research showing only about 18% of women regularly orgasm this way.

This disconnect between fantasy and reality can have real consequences. 

Impossible standards
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The way bodies are shown in usually more mainstream porn reflects a narrow and hard-to-reach ideal, one that doesn’t match the reality for most of us. These standards are pretty common in many films, TV shows and on social media, too:

• Men usually have large penises and defined abs.
• Most are circumcised (even though only around 20% of Australian men are).
• Women often have fake boobs, minimal labia, and no body hair.
• Everyone seems to have endless stamina and perform at an intense, non-stop pace.

Meanwhile, in the real world, most of us need a break to grab some water, have a breather, or to Google “why does my leg always cramp during sex?”

A lot of mainstream porn doesn’t reflect the wide range of bodies, experiences, and pleasure out there. When this is the main reference point, it can set up unrealistic expectations — and make us feel like there’s something wrong with ourselves or our sex lives, when there absolutely isn’t.

Diversity becomes fetishisation

When porn does show diversity, it often does so through fetishisation. These portrayals frequently:

• Dehumanise people from diverse cultural backgrounds.
• Objectify people with disabilities.
• Present diversity as ‘exotic’ or ‘other’ rather than normal.

This kind of representation doesn't celebrate diversity — it exploits it.

Power imbalances

Many porn scenarios involve problematic power dynamics:

• Characters in vulnerable positions (needing help, struggling financially) pressured into having sex.
• The rise of ‘step-relative’ content that sexualises inappropriate and sometimes illegal relationships between family members.
• Teacher/student relationships or school girl content that romanticises child sexual abuse

What healthy intimacy actually looks like

Healthy sexual experiences are built on several fundamental principles that rarely make it into more mainstream pornography.

Real intimacy involves ongoing communication. Unlike the silent or performative interactions in most porn, healthy sexual encounters involve checking in continually with your partner and adjusting based on both verbal and non-verbal cues. Some examples of what this communication might sound like:

• "Does this feel good?"
• "I'd like to try this — what do you think?"
• "Can I touch you here?"
• “Have you tried x? I’m keen to try it if you are”
• "I really enjoy when you..."
• "I'm not comfortable with that right now."

A lot of the bodies we see in mainstream porn can represent an incredibly narrow slice of human diversity. 

When you’re with someone in real life, you realise that bodies come in endless variations — different sizes, shapes, colours, abilities, and features. They have stretch marks, body hair, asymmetrical features, and countless other characteristics that make them uniquely human. 

Healthy sexuality acknowledges that everyone deserves pleasure and attention to their needs and desires. This means taking time to understand what feels good for each person and recognising that the goal isn't performance but mutual enjoyment.

Consuming porn critically & defining our own sexuality

So where does this leave us? The answer isn't necessarily avoiding porn altogether — it's developing critical thinking skills, and engaging with it more mindfully:

Porn is just another form of media. It's entertainment. Which means, like with any form of media, we have to be considerate of what it may be teaching us. The reality is that porn isn't going anywhere. What can change is how we approach it. 

It's up to us to define our own sexuality based on real connections and consent, not scripted performances.

So next time you come across porn, take a second to think about what you're seeing. What parts seem unrealistic? What's being left out? Is everyone being valued?

By chatting openly about porn — its limitations, distortions, and how it affects us — we can make better choices about how we engage with it. This helps stop it from messing with our expectations while fostering healthy attitudes toward sex, relationships, and our bodies.

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