…Such first-person stories from women are dismissed by defenders of pornography as “anecdotal”; they misuse the word to make it denote a story, probably fictive, that is small, trivial, inconsequential, proof only of some defect in the woman herself—the story tells us nothing about pornography but it tells us all we need to know about the woman. She’s probably lying; maybe she really liked it; and if it did happen, how could anyone (sometimes referred to as “a smart girl like you”) be stupid enough, simple-minded enough, to think that pornography had anything to do with it? Wasn’t there, as one grinning adversary always asks, also coffee in the house? The coffee, he suggests, is more likely to be a factor in the abuse than the pornography — after all, the bad effects of coffee have been proven in the laboratory.
What does one do when women’s lives are worth so little — worth arrogant, self-satisfied ridicule and nothing else, not even the appearance, however false, of charity or concern?
Alas, one answers: the man (the husband, the boyfriend, the rapist, the torturer—you or your colleague or your best friend or your buddy) wasn’t reading the coffee label when he tied the knots; the directions he followed are found in pornography, and, frankly, they are not found anywhere else.
Andrea Dworkin, Pornography: Men Possessing Women