The recent debate, if you can call it that, between Live Action founder Lila Rose and popular rage-baiting YouTuber Pearl, went about as anyone might expect had they been previously vetted on any of Pearl’s content. The discussion, which lasted under 20 minutes before Rose decided to leave due to being repeatedly muted mid-sentence, was titled Is “Corn” the root of all evil? Much to the disappointment of maize enthusiasts, one can assume it intended to be an entertaining, if not informative, exploration of the Church’s teaching on pornography and sexual ethics.
Sadly, before the conversation could reach such a point, it descended sharply, with Pearl chastising Rose for speaking on the issue at all, claiming men do not want to be lectured to by women, whom she described as subordinate. Bracketing this bizarre take, Pearl’s only other argument appeared to be that pornography is the sole recourse for single men to manage sexual urges, and the best option for men in sexless marriages seeking to avoid adultery or divorce.
There is a temptation to scoff at such a position, but anyone who has battled sexual sin may recognise this line of justification from within. Our ability to rationalise sins, large or small, is part of our fallen nature. Like sirens at sea, sin sings deceitful songs, leaving us smitten and blind to the consequences that follow.
Pearl’s argument contains a familiar error: that one may excuse a smaller sin to prevent a larger one. A similar argument was made by Dennis Prager in his discussion with Matt Fradd. In Prager’s example, a man caring for his sick wife should be permitted to masturbate to relieve sexual urge and remain faithful to her.
Beyond critiques highlighting the disordered nature of masturbation, the argument also fails to recognise that sexual acts do not exist in isolation. Our sexual impulse is a gift ordered toward marriage, unitive and procreative, and its distortion affects more than one’s private interior.
The published Catechism reads: “sin creates a proclivity to sin; it engenders vice by repetition of the same acts. This results in perverse inclinations which cloud conscience and corrupt the concrete judgment of good and evil.” In psychological terms this may be framed through dopamine spikes or neural pathways, but more simply, habitual surrender to bodily whim makes choosing virtue without grace harder, not easier.
As therapist John Delony has said in other settings, “behaviour is a language.” Masturbation says something, and what it says here is the inverse of the Eucharistic grammar of self-offering. Where God says “This is my body, given for you,” self-use speaks a different dialect. It is not contained to the bedroom. Wherever sin is permitted, it shapes more than one sphere of life.
The story of David and Bathsheba, in the Second Book of Samuel, was once relatable principally to kingship. Yet in an age of abundance its logic applies widely. David, a beloved king with many wives and concubines, still desired more. He committed adultery, impregnated Bathsheba, and arranged the death of her husband to conceal it. The lesson is not that all who view pornography risk murder, but that indulging hunger does not heal hunger. Carnal satiation is not the remedy for restless want. The help instructed by Paul to the Galatians is not licence to self-use, but self-control as fruit of the Spirit.
My heart goes out to the people Pearl claims to speak on behalf of: married and single men turning to self-use or pornography to cope with absence, loneliness or dissatisfaction. In a culture that profits on vice, rejecting such impulses may feel impossible. Yet the Church’s teaching is not a relic of prudish antiquity or unreasonable influencer ideal. It is about living life in full, liberation through sacrament and temperance, freedom through grace, and the prerequisite confession of all discipleship: “not my will, but thine, be done.”
And yet the hope Rose was trying to convey was that the teaching of the Church is not built on prudish antiquity, nor the ‘unreasonable expectations’ of female Catholic influencers. Rather it is founded on an understanding of what it means to live life to the full. That the difficult path to virtue is made possible by the graces extended to us in the sacraments. That true freedom is found in temperance. And that for all of us, our journeys seeking wholeness must first begin with the humble proclamation: “not my will, but thine, be done”.
