Over the past week, TikTok has been flooded with clips from the Reality Check Podcast. The self-proclaimed ‘wildest podcast’ in the UK is known for interviewing female sex workers and OnlyFans creators, using provocative captions and rage bait to attract attention and spark controversy.
Their latest guest-turned-victim was OnlyFans creator and influencer Rebecca Goodwin, who made headlines for ‘storming off’ the podcast after being repeatedly belittled and mocked by the all-male hosts. Unfortunately, her experience is not an isolated incident but reflects a broader pattern of misogynistic shame that society imposes on women, especially those who decide to own their sexuality.
Goodwin, who has openly discussed her past financial struggles before joining OnlyFans as an adult content creator, faced relentless ridicule throughout the interview. She was interrupted, laughed at, and condescended while speaking on various topics from the unfair stereotypes surrounding female body hair to the life that she provides for her children. At one point, in a clip that has generated particular fury online, Goodwin was even asked what she ‘actually contributes to society’, even after revealing that she paid £238,000 in taxes last year, and that she funds an affordable housing scheme with her earnings.
Her treatment on the podcast is symptomatic of a growing ‘niche’ online, where self-proclaimed ‘alpha males’ use podcasting as a means to assert their masculinity by dragging women down. Since the rise of figures like Andrew Tate, this sub-field has only gained traction, promoting regressive ideologies that only re-establish a culture that devalues women’s choices and uplifts patriarchal standards.
Though some may brush off the true impact that this group has on society, the accessibility of social media to young audiences is not to be ignored, with a Vodaphone study finding that 70% of teachers have noticed an increase in misogynistic language in classrooms since the rise of Tate and other similar creators.
The growth of the OnlyFans industry in particular has only fuelled the fire, often acting as a hot topic for these podcasts, providing an easy opportunity to attack women. In Goodwin’s case, the hosts claimed she had ‘lost her dignity’ through her content, despite her own assertion that she rather feels she has reclaimed it after being a victim of child sexual abuse.
The irony and hypocrisy of such criticisms becomes even more evident when looking into the facts and figures. With 87% of the 305 million OnlyFans users being male, it is clear that the very industry that these groups condemn was not only created by but is actively reproduced by men.
Beyond OnlyFans, the wider global sex work industry was valued at $287.8 billion in 2023, making it apparent that many of the same men who degrade sex work are often the ones funding its very existence. Instead of shaming the women who capitalise on the industry, shouldn’t we start blaming those who sustain it?
Ultimately, OnlyFans is a legitimate social media platform that provides more protections for its users than traditional sex work avenues. Though the dangers associated with the industry cannot be ignored, the company states that it goes “above and beyond legal requirements to provide a safe platform for creators… maximising their freedom”. Goodwin herself has emphasised that only since joining the platform has she ever felt like her own boss.
Such backlash against the platform and its creators, therefore, seems less about genuine moral objections and more about discomfort with the fact that women are now able to profit from their sexualisation, challenging the long-standing power dynamic where men held control over the industry. Notably, one of the Reality Check hosts is an OnlyFans model himself, reinforcing the reality that the stigma around sex work is disproportionally directed at the women who are, often for the first time, embracing their autonomy.
However, the conversation around sex work is undoubtedly complex. Even within feminism, there is an ongoing debate over whether it serves as a form of empowerment, enabling women to reclaim their sexual liberation, or whether it is symbolic of continuous exploitation and objectification.
In reality, there is no single answer, and every sex worker’s experience is going to be different. However, one thing is clear – women in the industry should not be mocked, disrespected and driven to tears the way Goodwin was. ITV’s recent series Getting Filthy Rich, a documentary led by ex-Love Islander Olivia Attwood, illustrates perfectly that while sex work will always be a shocking and controversial topic, it can and should be approached with respect and understanding rather than shame.
After all, Goodwin made an important point during the podcast: many of us will go on to work in an exploitative system that devalues our labour, with the patriarchy remaining deeply embedded even within more traditional jobs.
If a woman freely chooses to profit from her own sexualisation to provide for herself and her family in a way that conventional employment may never enable, who are we to tell her that she can’t?
