IntroductionMuch is known about human trafficking, but alarmingly little is known about anti-trafficking practices. In general, and without substantive investigation, the anti-trafficking movement is taken-for-granted as a force for good, beyond reproach, and somehow magically uncoupled from trafficking per se. Yet the animating logics and practices of the anti-trafficking movement reproduce some of the very same violences of trafficking itself. By investigating the mechanics and logics of anti-trafficking, as well as the ways in which gendered and sexual violence constitutes both illicit and licit forms of gendered and sexualized labor related to human trafficking and rescue, this project pushes back against the normative logic of much of the trafficking research which to date has exempted anti-trafficking from serious, sustained critical analysis. My dissertation research remedies this situation by subjecting recent federal anti-trafficking legislation SESTA/FOSTA to rigorous social scientific scrutiny and specifically by learning from the people who occupy the liminal space between victim and worker, in order to situate anti-trafficking efforts in their historical, economic and political contexts.Chapter 1: Sex, Labor and the Consent GapDespite many shared goals and investments, the anti-trafficking movement has long been at odds with the sex worker’s rights movement. The anti-trafficking movement is characterized by a commitment to radical feminist values which view heterosexual sex as inherently violent and consent to paid sex impossible. In this view, the sex industry is painted as uniformly violent and exploitive. For this reason, the anti-trafficking movement has advocated the increasing criminalization of the sex industry (what Elizabeth Bernstein calls “carceral feminism”).Taking seriously the implications of an emerging sex worker literature which is critical of work, I argue that to understand consent when sex is work, the term’s component parts must be engaged separately. Utilizing a dimidiate consent framework reveals a significant discrepancy between the socially and legally acceptable level of consent to (unpaid) sex versus the socially and legally acceptable level of consent to (non-erotic) work. This model allows for a truly labor-centered understanding of consent to paid sex and a useful framework for analyzing competing legal models for regulating the sex industry. In this chapter I compare New Zealand’s model of full decriminalization of the sex industry to Nevada’s model of limited legalization. Engaging these sites of productive ideological tension reveals important truths that can help lay the groundwork for a more nuanced and complex understanding of consent in the sex industry which takes seriously not only the risk of episodic direct physical violence experienced by people in the sex industry, but also the quotidian violence of value extraction in capitalist labor relations, and the role of the state in contemporary labor relations. The unique language of New Zealand’s Prostitution Reform Act provides an excellent framework for rethinking workers’ rights and workers’ relationship to the state beyond the sex industry. Chapter 2: The Impact of SESTA/FOSTA on Sex Workers in San FranciscoIn this chapter I contrast the animating logics of the anti-trafficking movement (the rationale for SESTA/FOSTA) with a qualitative analysis of interview data from interviews with 38 primarily street-based sex workers in the Tenderloin in San Francisco. I completed this fieldwork at St. James Infirmary in the Fall of 2019. St. James Infirmary is a sex-worker-run, harm-reductionist organization in the Tenderloin neighborhood of San Francisco which supports sex workers via healthcare, mental health services, needle exchange, peer mentorship, street outreach and case management. The purpose of semi-structured interviews in this research is to understand the impact that SESTA/FOSTA is having on sex workers’ exposure to risk and violence, day-to-day work practices, decision-making and survival strategies. Because St. James Infirmary is located in San Francisco’s Tenderloin neighborhood and works primarily with transgender and cisgender street-based sex workers, fieldwork at St. James afforded me access to a crucial population that would otherwise be difficult to reach: sex workers who had worked indoors prior to SESTA/FOSTA but had been pushed out onto the street following the government seizure of Backpage and similar low-cost advertising forums.Chapter 3: The Impact of SESTA/FOSTA on Internet-Based Sex Workers in the United StatesThis chapter is based on the second phase of research: an anonymous online survey, available in English, Spanish and Mandarin Chinese. Survey participants were recruited through key organizations which work to support those in the sex industry including Desiree Alliance, Red Light Legal, SWOP (the Sex Workers’ Outreach Project), TGIJP (the Transgender, Gendervariant, Intersex Justice Project), Bay Area Workers’ Support, GLITS (Gays and Lesbians Living in a Transgender Society), CUSP (Community United for Safety and Protection), Red Canary, and Women with a Vision. A second round of participants was recruited via sharing of the survey link by individuals who have either received the link via one of the organizations or completed the survey themselves as described above. The survey was designed with only multiple choice and Likert-scale questions such that I was able to complete all data analysis myself without knowledge of Chinese.Combining quantitative survey data with qualitative interview data affords the opportunity to situate the qualitative data in the larger context and identify trends and patterns. This mixed methods approach allows for a more robust analysis, situating the lived consequences of the legislation in the larger political, economic and social context.For the already marginalized workers in the Mission and Tenderloin neighborhoods, losing virtual territories such as Backpage is uniquely perverse in a city where their real world displacement from their neighborhoods was hastened by the encroachment of a population of people who made their fortunes in the virtual world. In short, for sex workers in San Francisco the real world violence of gentrification is paralleled by a kind of virtual gentrification, with devastating material effects. Chapter 4: SESTA/FOSTA and the Anti-Trafficking MachineIn chapter four I ask: how did we arrive at the current moment? I understand the mainstream anti-trafficking movement to be, fundamentally, a neoliberal project. By erasing state and economic violence, expanding the carceral state, and contributing to the formation of a class of citizen vigilantes, the anti-trafficking movement has increased state violence in the name of freedom. Because the anti-trafficking movement embraces this fundamentally neoliberal approach to power, understanding how anti-trafficking operates requires a thoughtful, situated analysis of mechanisms of state power and law enforcement.I open with an overview of some of the key federal legislation that preceded SESTA/FOSTA, beginning with the Mann Act of 1910 and incorporating the Trafficking Victims Protection Act (renewed annually since 2000), the 2003 PROTECT Act, and the 2015 SAVE Act. I then explore in detail the transcripts of each legislative hearing that lead to the passage of SESTA/FOSTA in March of 2019. I establish that SESTA/FOSTA is not an overreach or aberration from the animating logics of the anti-trafficking movement but rather, a logical extension of the neoliberal logic of anti-trafficking.Throughout the senate hearings that led to the passage of SESTA/FOSTA the disconnect between the mythology around trafficking and the actual testimonies is striking. I identify at least four factors that contribute to this disconnect: First, anti-trafficking rhetoric ignores economic factors in the sex industry in favor of viewing prostitution as a personal failing. Second, that anti-trafficking movement assumes the interests of trafficking victims are at odds with the interests of sex workers. Third, the anti-trafficking movement is largely unable to see women of color as victims. Fourth, the contemporary anti-trafficking movement is refuses to recognize that sex can be labor, and that capitalist labor relations are inherently violent.I suggest that part of the impetus for the federal government to go after Backpage is the absence (in many prostitution-related arrests) of a figure who clearly fits the trafficker archetype and is easily read and prosecuted as a predator. In other words, the anti-trafficking movement tends to erase ongoing systemic economic violence and state violence by displacing that violence onto the mythical figure of the trafficker. This has created a legal framework in which prostitution-related cases require a trafficker, even when there is none (as in the case of a collective of sex workers sharing a workspace). In the absence of an actual trafficker that assumed violence gets projected onto survival sex workers and now onto the third party sites that facilitate paid erotic exchanges. ConclusionIn the conclusion I imagine what a truly labor-centered approach to regulating the sex industry might look like, and what meaningful support for trafficking victims might look like. In both cases I emphasize minimizing state and economic violence.