In the anti-trafficking space, language is one of the most imperative aspects of advocacy. On February 4, 2025, The New York Times (NYT) published a newsletter, “Should My Husband Make Amends for Being a Sugar Daddy?” In the article, author Kwame Anthony Appiah, the NYT’s “Ethicist” and well-known philosopher, responds to a reader who discovered that her husband was engaged in “sugar daddy/sugar baby” relationships with younger women. Disturbingly, Appiah’s response was riddled with ignorance concerning the commercial sex trade, highlighting just one example of society’s deeply held misconceptions regarding commercial sexual exploitation.
To begin, in referencing the experiences of prostituted people, Appiah argues that “there are horror stories, but the picture that emerges is far from your dark imaginings.” He then ambiguously points to “sociological and ethnographic” research that supposedly indicate that prostituted people do not experience high levels of violence. This unsupported assertion fails to acknowledge the role that commercial sex plays in the harms inflicted on those who are prostituted.
From a sociological perspective, prostitution, sex trafficking, and sugar dating (or “sugaring”) are forms of gender-based violence developed from patriarchal ideologies to further oppress women and elevate men. Prostituted persons are targets of violence at the hands of sex buyers and their traffickers. Women in prostitution experience homicide rates that are 51% higher than the most dangerous occupation for women. Additionally, the Pennsylvania Coalition Against Rape (PCAR) states that 93% of those involved in commercial sex have experienced some form of sexual assault. Further, a study of 130 prostituted people found that 68% of the women interviewed met the criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) within the same range as combat veterans and victims of torture.
An overall lack of comprehensive data, due in large part to low reporting and identification of victims, indicates that these numbers could be worse. Nonetheless, Appiah’s perspective sanitizes the violent realities of the commercial sex trade, including those within the world of sugar dating.
Next, Appiah calls into question the identification of “sugar babies” and “sex workers” as victims. Alarmingly, Appiah claims that, “For a great many women who choose sex work…compassion will read as condescension.” This perspective fails to acknowledge the inherent harms in sugar dating and commercial sex in general, viewing such dynamics as a joint understanding between two consenting adults. This is not the reality.
Along with prostitution, sugar dating relies on the existence of a power imbalance. The most common type of sugar dating occurs between a wealthy, older man and an economically vulnerable young woman. The premise of sugaring involves the sugar daddy using cash, lavish gifts, and/or help with debt to facilitate and encourage their demand for sex and companionship. Such “arrangements” are targeted toward younger, lower-income women, placing them into dangerous situations that often result in manipulation and sexual exploitation.
Recently, there has been a rise in the glamorization of sugar dating through TikTok and other social media platforms, feeding into the misconceptions asserted by Appiah. Some indicate that they participate in sugaring to “finance [their] luxurious lifestyle.” Contrastingly, many individuals engage in sugar dating to help themselves or their families out of dire financial situations. These two experiences emphasize the impact of privilege. The latter does not reflect a true choice because there is a lack of options. The exchange of money and gifts does not equate to consent but is used as a coercive force for those who are financially vulnerable.
For sugar babies, there is only the illusion of choice. When a relationship consists of an individual in power and a person in a position of vulnerability, there is an absence of negotiating authority. As a result, money and gifts provided by the sugar daddy are utilized to create a false sense of control within the sugar baby. Accordingly, the privilege-consent gap between the sugar baby and sugar daddy determines whether the arrangement is empowering or exploitative. The transactional nature of sugaring normalizes the exchange of money for sex and effectively lures vulnerable populations into the commercial sex trade.
Finally, Appiah claims that getting women out of the commercial sex trade is not the best avenue to ensure their welfare. Instead, Appiah suggests that readers join advocacy efforts that focus on the decriminalization of “sex work” because this will reduce women’s risks of violence or exploitation from sex buyers or law enforcement. In fact, full decriminalization and legalization efforts have the opposite effect.
Commercial sexual exploitation is simple economics: the supply grows to meet the demand. Countries that have embraced full decriminalization or legalization models have seen a surge in demand for prostituted people, thus, leading to an increase in the sex trade and subsequent rise in human trafficking. Appiah argues that decriminalization will reduce the violence and victimization that he previously denied existed. Evidence does not support this and, in countries where prostitution is decriminalized or legalized, rates of violence did not decrease nor did prostituted people feel safer.
The CSE Institute stands for the Equality Model, which consists of four key elements: (1) decriminalization of the prostituted person, (2) criminalization of sex buyers and facilitators with a commitment to treating buying sex as a serious crime, (3) a public education campaign about the inherent harms of prostitution, and (4) funded, robust, holistic exit services for victims of commercial sexual exploitation. Commercial sexual exploitation has decreased in countries where the Equality Model has been implemented. The Equality Model directly targets the demand for buying sex by criminalizing sex buyers and traffickers, while decriminalizing the people who are being bought and sold for commercial sex. The decriminalization of people in prostitution recognizes those who are bought and sold for sex as exploited, not as perpetrators of a crime.
The CSE Institute is disappointed with Kwame Appiah and The New York Times for failing to address such an important topic through a trauma-informed lens. The media must stop perpetuating the misconceptions of commercial sexual exploitation and ignoring the culpability of sex buyers. As guardians of communication, the media has a responsibility to comment on issues regarding commercial sexual exploitation with nuance, sensitivity, and informed reasoning. Media platforms and their stakeholders must do better.
All views expressed herein are personal to the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law or of Villanova University.