The following post about AI and sex work is written by adult entertainer Jupiter Jetson, a featured courtesan at Sheri’s Ranch. All opinions are her own and do not necessarily reflect the views of other courtesans or the staff of Sheri’s Ranch.
I, like all humans, am imperfect. I have scars, cellulite, and a tendency to bump into stationary objects. It’s a rare day that I don’t have at least one or two bruises on my shin, and even the slightest hint of humidity in the air will make my naturally wavy hair resume its natural–and in my opinion, incredibly unglamorous- texture. I have constellations of freckles scattered across my entire body, and tattoos that serve as souvenirs of my travels.
I have stories that go along with these scars and tattoos: the time I learned the hard way that a bag with a can of WD-40 inside of it SHOULD NEVER be carried on the handlebars dangling near the front spokes unless you’d like to go sailing over those handlebars; the treble clef on my back that I got in celebration of moving into my first apartment.
People keep asking me if I’m afraid that AI will replace me. A few years ago people kept asking if I was afraid robot sex dolls would replace me, or if the rise of OnlyFans would spell doom for my revenue. I would imagine the earliest sex workers were asked if they feared replacement the first time someone figured out how to chisel boobs into a cave wall. I hope they had already invented eye-rolling.
In ‘Player Piano’, Kurt Vonnegut writes of a future where society has automated almost every job- and still sex work is an acknowledged part of that world. Even in a future where AI is genuinely intelligent (an outcome I wouldn’t personally wager money on) it could still never replicate what it is that I actually offer.
AI can’t commiserate with shared human experience- it doesn’t have any. It can’t stroke your hair while you tell it about your favorite movie, or laugh with you when you accidentally step on its toe slow dancing in pajamas. No matter what you use to train your model, it will never trigger an oxytocin release when you press your skin against it. Hospitals solicit strangers to volunteer to hold babies because they haven’t found a more effective way to trigger this chemical reaction our bodies have to each other- Silicon Valley isn’t going to get there, either.
While I don’t have any fear of replacement, I do have concerns surrounding the erosion of trust that AI breeds. Scammers now have tools to catfish people that yesterday’s thieves could only have dreamed of, and AI poses the same problem as yesterday’s overly-photoshopped pictures for women in my field: people are afraid we won’t look like our photos when they arrive. . In response to this only genuine fear I have of AI, I’m making public my stance: I have never -and will never- use AI. My words are never fed from an LLM, and the only technology behind the photos on my profile are skillfully placed lights and a soft focus lens. Let my lackadaisical approach to punctuation and the subtle shadow of my teenage stretch marks be your assurance that who you see online is who you’ll meet in person. A real person, in the real world, making real memories.
The machines don’t even know what they’re missing.