My series of essays, Why I Hate Cardcaptor Sakura, is probably still my magnum opus in the world of blogging. Recently, I noticed a comment, though now almost a year old, that I think deserves some discussion.
For obvious reasons, I’m not linking the comment or stating the author’s name, and let me say clearly that this is not an invitation to dox, harass, or otherwise act like an ass.
Here is the comment:
That’s the issue with people like you today. You focus on too much on what is bad instead of why it’s bad. Why do you find th3 “pedophilia” relationship bad? It’s immoral, it’s disgusting it’s whatever. But please realize why it is bad to begin with. Pedophilia is bad not because a person likes a child, but because a child isn’t mentally prepared enough for any sexual relationships. They are also prone being exploited. Imagine a world where these negatives doesn’t exist, where every person is just borned matured and so on. Naturally in that world, pedophilia is not considered bad. That’s why in my opinion, we should never immediately see fictional pedophilia as some disgusting, evil, ugly, horrible things alone, but also by their context. I’m not saying the context in this is anywhere justified since I didn’t look too deep into it. But I really hope people learn not think so simply.
Curiously, this reinforces the point I was making with that over-long series of essays. “Imagine a world where pedophilia is good, akshually,” is, I agree, the entire premise of Cardcaptor Sakura—which is why I loathe it.
However, having said that, I will admit that the commenter makes a statement that, like the argument of a Sophist, takes some time to think over before we can understand exactly what’s wrong with it. Our instinct is to recoil in disgust, certainly, but instinct isn’t enough.
So here is my best attempt at a rebuttal:
First, I seriously doubt pedophiles’ good will; that is, I am not convinced they will be willing to keep it in the fictional world. “They’re just drawings” is the constant refrain of lolicons, something I have addressed previously. The problem with that is that, although they are indeed drawings, they are nonetheless drawings that represent something, in this case children. If those drawings of children are treated as sexually desirable for adults, that will naturally lead their viewers toward the opinion that children are sexually desirable for adults. This will hold true regardless of whether those child-drawings have a fantasy setting or a realistic one.
Second, the technical term for the detrimental effect to children when they are sexually exploited is “scandal.” Unfortunately, within the last two centuries or so, that word has lost both its original meaning and its original severity. To “scandalize” someone is to drag him into evil and thus into hell. Exploitation of children is particularly heinous because of scandal. That is why it is needful to tread with extreme care in this area, and I speak as one who has sweated and fretted over this subject, since I am myself a writer of coming-of-age magical-girl stories.
Third, although this is not well understood today, a thorough understanding of sexual ethics (indeed, of all ethics) requires an understanding of final cause, that is, that toward which things tend or that for which they exist. The primary final cause of sex is reproduction; there is much effort to deny this nowadays, but it is obvious to everyone and requires no defense. The sex act can of course have secondary ends such as pleasure or health or mutual good, but reproduction is still primary. As such, any sex act that necessarily precludes reproduction falls outside the category of the morally permissible, and this includes sex with sexually immature children even if the reality of scandal is denied or ignored as it is in Cardcaptor Sakura.
It is mainly for these second and third reasons that consent has become primary in today’s discussions of sexual ethics. It was around the eighth century that Christian theologians recognized that, because Christian marriage is a sacrament and not merely a natural institution, it requires the full consent of both spouses. From there, theologians refined their position, determining that, as a natural institution ordered toward child-rearing, marriage requires its participants to be of reproductive age and, as a sacrament, also requires that they be mature enough to consent to it.
Like it or not, these theological conclusions underpin all current discussions of this touchy subject.
