Before then-Taipei mayor Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) put an end to legal prostitution in the capital, the city was the only place in Taiwan where it was allowed. Twelve years later, however, the wisdom of his decision is hotly debated. Now, legalizing prostitution is again on the table, with the Ministry of the Interior last week proposing to set up red-light districts.
The glaring reality is that forcing sex workers into the shadows has done nothing to put an end to the business — nor to the scourges of human trafficking and exploitation that often accompany the practice. Many observers and sex workers are concerned that outlawing the trade has exacerbated these problems and left some of society’s most vulnerable women with fewer options than ever to pursue a better life for themselves and their families.
Faced with this, the government has returned to the question of whether selling sex should be legal. Red-light districts would allow the authorities to monitor an industry that is notoriously abusive toward its workers. But the proposal ignores another option with potential for greater and more equitable results: Shifting criminal responsibility for prostitution away from sex workers and onto their customers.
Article 80 of the Social Order and Maintenance Act (社會秩序維護法) is a deplorable example of the chauvinist forces that linger in this society. As it stands, sex workers face prison terms and fines, while their customers have nothing to fear. The law effectively suggests sex workers are “temptresses” to blame for “social ills,” while patrons can be forgiven — even though it is their wallets that sustain the industry and its related abuses. This is incomprehensible unless one considers that the system that created the legislation was probably replete with people who themselves feared a run-in with the law.
The article is also completely ineffective and ignores the fact that the vast majority of sex workers did not enter the industry willingly — and are hoping for a way out. For prostitutes already working in wretched conditions, the threat of criminal prosecution could hardly be a better deterrent than other hardships faced on a daily basis. Threats are pointless if doors remain closed.
In April, Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Legislator Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) proposed amending the law, but, like the Ministry of the Interior, suggested full legalization of the sex industry.
Legalized prostitution, however, has not stopped human trafficking and rampant physical abuse (including sexual assault) of sex workers in, say, Amsterdam.
The Collective of Sex Workers and Supporters has decried the criminalization of prostitution in Taiwan, warning that it has led to deteriorating work conditions and has allowed gangsters to strengthen their hold on the industry. But legalizing the sex industry is unlikely to cure these ills.
This is why the Swedish model is often cited by rights advocates who want to see an end to the prosecution of prostitutes without condoning the industry’s systematic abuses. Sweden has reported steady progress in reducing prostitution by punishing customers rather than sex workers.
In its annual human rights reports, the US State Department continues to cite human trafficking and violence against women as key concerns in Taiwan. Law enforcement efforts to crack down on the perpetrators of these acts must be redoubled.
At the same time, Taiwan needs to overhaul the law to end the counterproductive persecution of a marginalized and exploited segment of society. If the best our politicians can do is oscillate between legalizing and outlawing prostitution, decades may pass with no hope of improvement.
Having lived through former British prime minister Boris Johnson’s tumultuous and scandal-ridden administration, the last place I had expected to come face-to-face with “Mr Brexit” was in a hotel ballroom in Taipei. Should I have been so surprised? Over the past few years, Taiwan has unfortunately become the destination of choice for washed-up Western politicians to turn up long after their political careers have ended, making grandiose speeches in exchange for extraordinarily large paychecks far exceeding the annual salary of all but the wealthiest of Taiwan’s business tycoons. Taiwan’s pursuit of bygone politicians with little to no influence in their home
In a recent essay, “How Taiwan Lost Trump,” a former adviser to US President Donald Trump, Christian Whiton, accuses Taiwan of diplomatic incompetence — claiming Taipei failed to reach out to Trump, botched trade negotiations and mishandled its defense posture. Whiton’s narrative overlooks a fundamental truth: Taiwan was never in a position to “win” Trump’s favor in the first place. The playing field was asymmetrical from the outset, dominated by a transactional US president on one side and the looming threat of Chinese coercion on the other. From the outset of his second term, which began in January, Trump reaffirmed his
Despite calls to the contrary from their respective powerful neighbors, Taiwan and Somaliland continue to expand their relationship, endowing it with important new prospects. Fitting into this bigger picture is the historic Coast Guard Cooperation Agreement signed last month. The common goal is to move the already strong bilateral relationship toward operational cooperation, with significant and tangible mutual benefits to be observed. Essentially, the new agreement commits the parties to a course of conduct that is expressed in three fundamental activities: cooperation, intelligence sharing and technology transfer. This reflects the desire — shared by both nations — to achieve strategic results within
It is difficult not to agree with a few points stated by Christian Whiton in his article, “How Taiwan Lost Trump,” and yet the main idea is flawed. I am a Polish journalist who considers Taiwan her second home. I am conservative, and I might disagree with some social changes being promoted in Taiwan right now, especially the push for progressiveness backed by leftists from the West — we need to clean up our mess before blaming the Taiwanese. However, I would never think that those issues should dominate the West’s judgement of Taiwan’s geopolitical importance. The question is not whether