It is not the purpose of this essay to defend the contemporary pornography industry which to this day remains a ‘dirty’ and -to a large extent- a male-dominated, exploitative business, but rather to understand the reasons behind this sad reality. Pornography made its first prominent appearance in feminist discourse in the late 70s, when feminist groups such as ‘Women Against Violence in Pornography and the Media’ (WAVPM) embarked upon their anti-pornography campaign in the San Francisco Bay area. The so-called ‘sex wars’ of the 1980s brought about an unprecedented division within the feminist movement. Anti-pornography writers, such as Andrea Dworkin and Catharine MacKinnon -authors of the famous ‘Minneapolis and Indianapolis ordinances’ – advocated the censorship of pornographic material, on account of its role as ‘a practice that is central to the subordination of women’. Other feminists put forth a liberal legal argument, invoking the First Amendment to the American Constitution, which guarantees freedom of speech. Two decades later, the pornography debate has retained its relevance in feminist discourse. There is still heated disagreement over three interrelated issues: what is the definition of pornography? Does pornography cause violence and discrimination against women? What is the best way to deal with pornography in the policy and legislation arenas? While critically assessing the anti-pornography thesis, I will argue in turn that most sexually explicit graphic material is not the cause but can mirror the misogyny and exploitation that characterizes modern societies; and that far from being ‘intrinsically harmful’ pornography can in fact be employed in the service of feminist ideas. A necessary starting point if we are to understand pornography would be an analytically helpful definition. But this is itself one of the main points of disagreement between feminists. The pro-censorship side has emulated traditional definitions of pornography and equated sexual explicitness with violence and female subordination. Dworkin understands pornography as the platform where sexist ideology thrives by exhibiting male supremacy, discernible in seven interwoven strains: the power of the self, physical power, the power of terror, the power of naming, the power of owning, the power of money and the power of sex’. Contemporary porn depicts women as the helpless victims of men: bound, tortured, humiliated, battered, urinated upon or ‘merely taken and used’. Evoking the Greek etymology of the word, Dworkin (1990:24) defines pornography as the ‘graphic depiction of whores’, (‘porne’ being the Greek for a cheap prostitute or sex slave). Thus pornography is conceived as something sexist, violent and exploitative by definition; in other words, as an intrinsically harmful phenomenon. Even at this early stage, pro-censorship analysis seems to rest on shaky methodological grounds. First it involves a clearly circular argument which condemns pornography without trying to understand it, almost like arguing that ‘pornography is bad, because it is bad’. Second, the cross-cultural analysis of Ancient Greece is dubious, if not completely a-historical, since ‘pornogr>