The word had been out on the industry grapevine for the previous week at least. It still came as a shock, however, when the official confirmation came through that In Dublin had been banned.
It was like being plunged back into another era. The Censorship of Publications Board may be busy, working away at banning estimable titles like Busty Asian Beauties and the like, but it s been a long time since any mainstream publication came under the cosh. The last censorship controversy here surrounded Madonna s Sex, which had sold 2,500 copies in the Republic before it was banned. But the dark era of Irish censorship, when writers like James Joyce, Sean O Faolain, Edna O Brien and John McGahern saw their work being unceremoniously suppressed is long gone. For better or for worse, the top shelves of newsagents and plenty of other shelves too are weighed down with magazines that are titillatory, erotic or plain pornographic in their intent. Which only makes the banning of In Dublin all the more bizarre.
The obvious, immediate conclusion is that the decision is a crazy one. The Censorship Board offered only the most cursory explanation of its decision: issues of In Dublin had usually, or frequently, been indecent or obscene, they stated. But they could not or would not elaborate further, leaving the majority of people to puzzle over why In Dublin was being banned ahead of dozens of other publications with a much more obviously obscene agenda.
Follow-through press coverage made the likely basis for the Board s decision somewhat clearer. While no official clarification was forthcoming, reporters were given to understand that the Censorship Board had acted because of the ads carried in In Dublin for massage parlours. Another spin focussed even more directly on the fact that there was a recruitment element in these ads. It was also suggested in reports that negotiations had taken place between the Board and the publisher of In Dublin, Mike Hogan the implication being that the opportunity may have been offered to In Dublin to respond to the concerns of the Board.
The problem of course is that so much of this remains in the realm of speculation and that in itself is hugely unsatisfactory. Mike Hogan is seeking a judicial review of the Censorship Board s decision and during the course of this some or all of the shadow play which took place may be revealed.
In the meantime, however, the ban has been rendered farcical by the quick gearchange which saw the magazine drop the In and re-invent itself as, simply, Dublin.
Inevitably, the effect of all this has run almost diametrically counter to the intentions of the Censorship Board. Not only have they not (yet) succeeded in preventing publication but they have generated a surge of publicity for the magazine and even more ironically for the massage parlour advertisements with which they are apparently concerned. The first issue of Dublin probably sold better than any issue of In Dublin over the past ten years.
The same almost certainly applies to the services being offered by the sex workers of the city.
There are a number of different levels on which you can approach this curious parable of modern Irish life. The first and most obvious has already been widely explored. Does the Censorship of Publications Board have any kind of meaningful or valid role to perform in Ireland, in 1999? The fact is that the battle against what people think of as pornography has been lost. It is of course possible to leave the arcane mechanics of censorship in place customs staff who root through people s private mail and so on but it s a costly and futile business, particularly given that the internet allows instant, untramelled access to sexual, erotic and pornographic materials and contacts on a huge, global scale.
This is not to suggest that the members of the Censorship of Publications Board have acted in anything less than a reasonable manner, within their own lights. But the whole question of what is indecent or obscene is so subjective, and the scale of the publishing industry in all its manifestations so vast that there is literally no possibility of any five individuals even beginning to keep track. In the context, any decision to ban a book or a magazine becomes anomalous.
The deeper questions raised by the banning of In Dublin relate to massage parlours and prostitution. I have always taken a libertarian view on the issue: I genuinely believe that what takes place sexually between consenting adults is entirely their own business, whether money changes hands or not. I believe that prostitutes or sex workers should not be turned into criminals. And I also believe that people who visit prostitutes or use their services do so for so many different and often complex reasons that it makes no sense either to criminalise them.
I don t, therefore, think that there s any real high moral ground in relation to whether massage parlours are advertised in a magazine or newspaper, or not. We have been approached on numerous occasions in Hot Press to take massage parlour advertising. On one occasion, when In Dublin ceased publishing, the demand was particularly intense. We declined. Phoenix magazine went through a similar process and also turned the advertising down.
My own view is that in a situation where it is illegal, prostitution can involve real risks for those who sell their sexual services, and while I have no moral problem with the transaction, it s not something that I felt Hot Press should set out to profit from. That s still the way I see it. But I understand that other publishers might come to a different view.
In relation to attitudes to sex and sexuality, Hot Press has consistently campaigned against invasive restrictions being imposed by the State. We have argued for sexual liberation, freedom, pleasure and joy, and against the attempts of the anti-happiness league to impose their own hangups and neuroses on Irish people generally.
Whatever the fallout from the banning of In Dublin, that s a cause that s still worth fighting for. n