Why Strangulation in Porn is a Conversation We Need to Be Having

The UK has just introduced new legislation banning the depiction of strangulation of women in pornography, as part of its efforts to tackle violence against women and girls. Regardless of where one stands on this particular law, it’s opening up an important, and overdue, conversation about the way media, particularly pornography, influences behaviour and social norms.

Because here’s the reality: what we see in media shapes how we act. This is especially true when it comes to sex. For many young people today, online pornography is the first place they learn about sex, and often their only source of “sex education.”

And yet, mainstream porn is entertainment, not education. It rarely models the key elements that make sex pleasurable, consensual, and safe- things like communication, boundaries, negotiation, and aftercare. Instead, it often presents a version of sexuality, shaped by the demands of what “sells.”

One act that has become increasingly visible in mainstream porn is strangulation, also referred to as choking. A large content analysis (Bridges et al., 2010) found that nearly 90% of bestselling porn scenes contained physical aggression, with strangulation, gagging, and slapping among the most common acts- and the vast majority of these directed toward women.

The issue is not simply that strangulation appears in porn, but that it is shown without any context: no consent, no discussion, no negotiation, no acknowledgement of risk. It is presented as just another part of rough sex.

This matters. Research shows that pornography shapes sexual scripts- the internal “stories” we hold about how sex is supposed to look, feel, and unfold (Hald & Malamuth, 2015). And when strangulation is repeatedly shown in porn as normal, viewers, particularly young and impressionable ones, often absorb that message. They mirror what they see, whether consciously or not, in their own sexual behaviour.

Of course, breath play does exist within kink communities- and as a sexologist, I absolutely respect that when done consensually, with proper education and communication, it can be part of valid and pleasurable sexual expression. In kink contexts, breath play is surrounded by clear boundaries, trust, the use of safe-words, aftercare, and, most importantly, a deep awareness of risk.

But the majority of people watching mainstream porn, especially young people, are not being shown any of that. They are seeing the act without the critical safety elements that make kink safe and consensual.

The concern, then, is not kink itself. But, the normalisation of dangerous behaviours in mainstream porn, without the education, consent, or context that is needed. When these behaviours become normalised through porn, they inevitably begin showing up in sexual encounters across the wider community- often putting women and marginalised people at risk.

This is a key reason why laws like the UK’s new legislation are being considered: because media representations influence behaviour and contribute to cultural norms. The End Violence Against Women Coalition in the UK has rightly pointed out that porn can function as a kind of “training ground,” shaping attitudes toward sex and gender, and, when violent acts are normalised, increasing the risk of harm in real-life relationships (Salter, 2016).

Of course, no single law will “solve” this issue. Porn is a global industry, and young people will continue to access it. But this legislation does reflect a growing recognition that the kinds of acts we repeatedly see in porn are not without consequence. They shape how people think about sex, how they act during sex, and what they expect from partners.

Ultimately, we need far more open conversations about porn literacy, consent, and the ways in which media influences behaviour. We need to teach young people not only about the risks of certain acts, but also about how to approach sex with communication, curiosity, and care. And we need to help them see that porn is not a realistic or healthy model for how sex should look.

Whether or not this particular law is perfect, I think the wider conversation it is prompting- about the links between porn, sexual violence, and gendered harm- is one we desperately need to have.