From horny colonisers to online censorship:
NZ’s history of sex work

This story is part of a series on sex work in Aotearoa to support the release of Red Light Boys.
Read Re: News’ accompanying piece about the life of a trans wahine sex worker.
Content warning: This article mentions rape and police violence.
The phone rings in an inner-city massage parlour. The receptionist picks up, uttering a few words before putting it back down again.
“The police are out doing a sweep,” she warns.
There are sex workers in the parlour working there in secret.
They lower their voices and dim the lights in an already dimly lit room.
The lights were usually on just bright enough so you could read a Women’s Weekly on the couch while you waited for your next client.
Dressed in regular clothes, police officers come in and ask to see the records of people working there before plopping down on the worn couches.
Some sex workers are bold, and sit with them. Others scarper off and busy themselves in the private rooms and those who have criminal charges disappear from the building completely.

Under the Massage Parlours Act 1978, anyone with a drug or sex work conviction could not work in a massage parlour. Anyone caught soliciting sex could be fined and prosecuted. And any caught operating a brothel, or helping to operate one, could be imprisoned for up to five years.
Dame Catherine Healy, who worked in massage parlours when they were raided, says sometimes police would pose as clients and get massages - and a week later, they would come back and round people up and arrest them.
“It was incredibly tense. There was always a feeling of being on edge with a client. The suspicion, the not knowing. It was nerve-racking.”
The police were mean and the law demanded they be mean, she says.
A lot has changed since then.
For 20 years, sex work has been decriminalised in New Zealand - the first country in the world to do so.

Dame Catherine Alice Healy DNZM, national coordinator and a founding member of the New Zealand Prostitutes' Collective (NZPC).
Dame Catherine Alice Healy DNZM, national coordinator and a founding member of the New Zealand Prostitutes' Collective (NZPC).
And on its 20th anniversary, Healy has invited sex workers from around the country to sit in a room with a police officer and speak openly about their experiences in the industry.
It’s an invitation many couldn’t imagine accepting before the law changed.
But in 2023, in a bright room lined with large windows that look out onto Auckland’s city centre, they feel safe.
“We now have the absolute right to demand attention from the police. But just having that as a right is significant,” Healy says.
This is the history of sex work in Aotearoa.
The colonisation of Aotearoa brought a sex work boom
Sex work is often considered the ‘oldest profession’ in the world. But as far as we know - sex work’s origin story in Aotearoa didn’t start until colonisation.
There is “no evidence” of sex work among Māori before Europeans came to New Zealand, according to Te Ara, the encyclopaedia of New Zealand.
There are reports that Māori women were traditionally offered to important manuhiri (guests). But there was no expectation of payment so this was seen as a form of hospitality rather than sex work.
Instead it was sailors, whalers, and sealers who arrived in the 18th and 19th centuries who brought the demand for sex work with them.
European men who were “starved of female company” traded goods like muskets, nails and clothing with Māori in return for sexual acts.
By the time Te Tiriti o Waitangi was signed in 1840, Kororāreka (also known as Russell) had gained a reputation for its lawless drunkenness, and sex work became one of the Bay of Islands' main industries.

Kororāreka as painted by Augustus Earle; the colour print was published in 1838.
Kororāreka as painted by Augustus Earle; the colour print was published in 1838.
Short-term arrangements between European men and Māori women were common - with some Māori women and children forced into these arrangements in exchange for goods.
As colonial settlements grew in size over time, European men continued to outnumber European women. And so newly-arrived European women capitalised on this demand for sexual services.
Brothels and bars quickly flourished in numbers, hiding behind “respectable” shop fronts like vegetable stores and lolly shops.
By the 1860s, there were fears too many women were immigrating to New Zealand and choosing to do sex work instead of low-paying domestic labour jobs.
There were 28 known brothels in Christchurch and 26 in Dunedin by 1896, according to Te Ara. The top of Queen St in Auckland and Te Aro in Wellington became red-light districts for street-based sex workers where customers are solicited from a public place like a street or park.
The Contagious Diseases Act of 1869
During WWII, soldiers were constantly warned against sex workers.
Posters with bright colours and innocent looking soldiers were plastered all over the United Kingdom - and it wasn’t long before these messages reached New Zealand.

Second World War poster by the British Armed Forces warning soldiers against sex workers due to the spread of STIs.
Second World War poster by the British Armed Forces warning soldiers against sex workers due to the spread of STIs.
“Men who know, say no to prostitutes … spreaders of syphilis or gonorrhoea,” one poster said.
Another said: “She may look clean - but ‘good time’ girls spread syphilis and gonorrhoea.”
The Contagious Diseases Act, first passed in Britain in 1864 and then in New Zealand in 1869, normalised the belief that sex workers were ‘dirty’ and ‘evil’ and guilty of spreading sexually transmitted infections.
Under the Contagious Diseases Act 1869, any woman or girl accused of being a sex worker had to register with the police and was forced to undergo a compulsory medical examination.
If she was found to have a STI, she could be legally detained or confined to a 'lock hospital' until she was considered 'clean'.

Floor plan of the Christchurch Lock Hospital which was part of Addington Prison. The layout of the lock hospital shows sex workers were kept in similar conditions to prisoners.
Floor plan of the Christchurch Lock Hospital which was part of Addington Prison. The layout of the lock hospital shows sex workers were kept in similar conditions to prisoners.
Sex workers who refused medical examinations could be imprisoned for three to six months, or made to do hard labour.
The legislation was widely criticised by women’s rights groups such as the Ladies' National Association for unfairly punishing sex workers but not their male clients. It also ignored the fact STIs were often passed on to sex workers through their male clients.
The push to criminalise sex work in Aotearoa
Although there was no law against sex work yet, police would persistently charge sex workers with drunk and disorderly offences under the Vagrant Act of 1866 - a law that was also inherited from the United Kingdom.
But by 1884 that law was replaced with the Police Offences Act, which officially made it a crime for ‘common prostitutes’ to solicit sex in public.
From there, more and more sex work-related laws were passed throughout the 1960s to 1980s.
A key one was The Crimes Act 1961, which prohibited brothel-keeping and living off earnings made from sex work - but these laws were not applied equally.
Māori sex workers were arrested at three times the rate of European sex workers.
From 1997 to 2000, Māori sex workers made up over half of all soliciting convictions.
Kay'La Riarn was working as a trans wahine Māori sex worker in Wellington at the time.
She says trans Māori sex workers like her, who predominantly work on the streets, bore the brunt of the law.
Kay’La says on multiple occasions she was hit with a phone book while she was in police cells, “because it didn’t leave any marks on your body. They would make you strip down and spray [you] with water hoses and humiliate you.”

Many sex workers like Kay’La were too afraid to go to the police when they were assaulted by clients or officers for fear they would be arrested instead.
When Re: News reached out to police about these allegations, a spokesperson told us they could not comment on these specific allegations “in the absence of an investigation, following receipt of a complaint”.
“Police currently work closely with the Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective at a number of levels to help address sexual violence and sexual exploitation.”
The massage parlour raids
People from all walks of life would visit massage parlours that were brothels operating in secret. Some people stumbled upon them by accident, not realising the ‘extras’ on offer. Some were there for one thing. And some were undercover police officers pretending to be clients waiting to entrap and arrest workers for soliciting sex.

Newspaper advertisements for sex workers and brothel services.
Newspaper advertisements for sex workers and brothel services.
Sex workers would scan the men from head to toe looking for clues or signs they couldn’t be trusted.
Some sex workers were adamant it was their shoes that gave them away, others said it was they way moved.
Catherine Healy, a former sex worker and founder of Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective, says there were a lot of hopeless myths but you never really knew until it was too late.
The police would come in and say anything to trap you, she says, asking the people working what else they offered.
“As a sex worker, I wasn’t allowed to say ‘I can offer you this’. It was against the law to ask and offer any sex for sale. So I would say things like ‘is there anything else I can offer you?’”
Healy would go back and forth, almost speaking in riddles, dancing around their questions, to work out if they were just a client.
“Every day was stressful.”
The threat of arrest felt inescapable, she says. Even rooms behind closed doors where it was just you and client were considered public places and police roamed free.
The Massage Parlours Act 1978
The Massage Parlours Act 1978 was introduced to regulate licensed massage parlours and prohibit operators from hiring people with drug or prostitution-related convictions.
Years after it was passed, the Act became controversial because police said it was allowing sex work to occur under the facade of legal businesses.
Brothels advertised themselves as "massage parlours" and sex workers as “escorts” and “masseuses” so they could work in secret.
In retaliation, undercover police would pretend to be clients and visit parlours. They would charge women with soliciting if they offered sexual services for money.
Healy says this was devastating for sex workers because an arrest would not only mean you could be convicted and couldn’t work at a massage parlour for ten years, but you could lose your legal day job too.

Newspaper articles reporting on the police raids of massage parlours around New Zealand.
Newspaper articles reporting on the police raids of massage parlours around New Zealand.
She remembers how that happened to a woman she worked with.
The woman worked at a bank and topped up her income by working one night a week in the massage parlour.
“She was entrapped one night by police and was arrested for soliciting. She lost her job in the masseuse parlour, and she lost her job at the bank too.”
Decades later, there are still people who have this on their record.
“Even if you have it expunged, if you are travelling and are asked if you have ever been charged with a crime - you have to say yes.”
Under the law, every worker at a massage parlour had to register with the police.
The register was sold as something positive - a way for police to keep workers safe by knowing who worked where.
But in reality, it was a way to monitor and control sex workers - especially ones who had any drug convictions because the law barred them from working in any massage parlour.
Police would barge into massage parlours and ask for the details of everyone who worked there so they could search them up in the register.
Healy says she worked with a woman who was busted with a “roach of marijuana”.
“They didn’t even wait to process her case, they just said, ‘she’s out.’”
To keep her from being kicked out of the parlour, Healy and other sex workers would keep the woman hidden when police came and confuse them by saying they all had her name so police wouldn't know who to throw out.
Sex work during the HIV epidemic
New Zealand was hit hard by the HIV and AIDs epidemic during the 1980s and 1990s.
While sex workers were aware of how HIV was transmitted, clients often weren’t, Healy says.
Condoms became a vital part of a sex worker's survival kit but these life-saving objects were also what could put you in harm's way.
Sex workers would be careful about carrying too many condoms and would hide them because police could use them as circumstantial evidence, Healy says.
“We would take the bins out each night to hide the condoms because if push came to shove, those condoms would be lined up and presented in court - and you could be jailed for five years for running or being part of a brothel.”
If clients pressured sex workers to have sex without condoms or if sexual assault or abuse happened - sex workers felt they couldn’t report it to the police for fear they would be arrested instead.
For Healy, this was one of the most fearful times to be a sex worker.
“Meanwhile, we saw good friends die [of HIV]. It was just a terrible time. It is unbelievable when you think about it.”
The birth of Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective
Fed up with their rights being ignored, sex workers from massage parlours and street sex workers joined together to fight for safe working conditions.
Led by Healy, the Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective, previously known as the New Zealand Prostitutes Collective (NZPC), was formed in 1987.

Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective was formed in 1987 and still operates around New Zealand today.
Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective was formed in 1987 and still operates around New Zealand today.
Its success began with the collective signing a contract with the Minister of Health to provide health services for sex workers - with a focus on HIV and AIDS prevention.
Healy would later become a Dame in 2018 for her services to the rights of sex workers.
The fight to decriminalise sex work in Aotearoa
The hum of the room stops when Labour MP Georgina Beyer stands up.
Her hair is pulled tightly into a bun, her lips stained a dark purple.
Her voice gets louder and her breath gets sharper as she talks about the moment a client pulled out a knife and raped her. She was only 17.
Too young to have her life in the hands of a stranger. But not too young to know she couldn’t go to the police.
“It would have been nice to know that instead of having to deal out justice afterwards to that person myself, I might have been able to approach the authorities — the police in this case — and say: “I was raped, and, yes, I’m a prostitute, and, no, it was not right that I should have been raped, because I said no, and it was not paid attention to."

Twenty years later her speech is still credited with tipping the balance in favour of the Prostitution Reform Bill.
The long campaign led by Labour MP Tim Barnett and Healy faced persistent and intense pushback from evangelical Christian groups who believed passing the law would fuel human trafficking and mean there would be sex workers and brothels on every corner.
The vote passed by the skin of its teeth with 60 votes for and 59 against - with one Labour MP abstaining from voting because of religious reasons.
That day Aotearoa became the first country in the world to decriminalise sex work - a victory that took five years of campaigning in parliament.
The win meant it is now legal for any citizen or resident over 18 to sell sexual services.
Street-based sex work and brothels became legal.
And sex workers’ rights were also guaranteed through employment and human rights legislation.

Newspaper comic published after sex work was decriminalised in New Zealand.
Newspaper comic published after sex work was decriminalised in New Zealand.
“What the law did was make it easier for sex workers to report abuse and for police to prosecute sex crimes,” Healy says.
After this, an independent review by the University of Otago found 64% of sex workers found it easier to refuse clients, and 57% believed police attitudes to sex workers changed for the better.
And review of The Prostitution Reform Bill five years later found: “The sex industry has not increased in size, and many of the social evils predicted by some who opposed the decriminalisation of the sex industry have not been experienced.”
But it’s still illegal for migrants to be sex workers in New Zealand
In Adelaide, 14 bills have come and gone - yet sex work still hasn’t been decriminalised.
Watching that happen to her friends in Adelaide, Healy says there are parts of the Prostitution Reform Act they had to begrudgingly compromise “because they didn’t want to lose the lot”.
“We could have said ‘you either do it our way or we are out of here’ but if we did, we would probably be in the same situation as Adelaide today - still fighting for the bulk of the sex worker population.”
As a consequence, the law ended up excluding migrants, making migrant sex workers vulnerable to exploitation.

New Zealand media headlines reporting on the exploitation migrants sex workers experience in the industry.
New Zealand media headlines reporting on the exploitation migrants sex workers experience in the industry.
The argument at the time to exclude migrants was that people would “come out of their villages all around the world and head towards our little country to be a sex worker”, Healy says.
“It’s just ludicrous.”
Instead of the law preventing migrants from being trafficked into sex work in New Zealand, it silences those who have been trafficked from coming forward because they are considered a criminal, Healy says.
There have been reports of brothel owners coercing migrant sex workers into working certain hours or days or forcing them to see clients they are not comfortable with - knowing that migrants may be reluctant to report this to the police because they could be deported.
The rise of online sex work and censorship
Like most aspects of life, the internet has also transformed the sex work industry.
In 2016, adult content site OnlyFans was formed. It allows people to pay a monthly and one-off subscription to view photos, videos, and live streams from sex workers and other content creators.
Before this, sex workers like Vixen Temple used social media sites like Snapchat to make money selling nude photos.
She would post alluring photos of herself and tell her followers, “hey, pay me this much, and you can see the uncensored version on Snapchat”.
But things changed almost overnight in 2018 when the Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act and Stop Enabling Sex Traffickers Act (known as FOSTA-SESTA) was signed in the United States.

Protests erupt in the United States after Former United States President Donald Trump signs the Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act.
Protests erupt in the United States after Former United States President Donald Trump signs the Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act.
The Acts were supposed to monitor sex content on the internet to reduce human trafficking harm.
But in reality, they forced platforms like Twitter, Reddit, Instagram, Google, and others to monitor and heavily censor content related to sex — including sexual health information.
“One morning I woke up, and my Instagram account was deleted for being an adult solicitor of sex because Instagram didn't want to be in trouble for being caught sex trafficking. Suddenly sex workers and sex educators were being deplatformed everywhere.”

But it’s not just explicit images that were censored. Vixen Temple made a post on her Instagram account in 2021 about how she was sexually assaulted by a client.
“I said that the justice system will do everything it can to protect men and blame sex workers. And that post got deleted, and my entire account was de-platformed for promoting hate speech.
“So the censorship goes beyond nudity, it's also controlling and policing the words we can use,” she says.
Bodies of people of colour, non-cis bodies, fat bodies and disabled bodies are also more heavily censored.
“When you flag that black, brown, indigenous bodies, disabled bodies, trans bodies as adult content, the message you were putting out there is that anyone that is not a cis white man is sexual and pornographic,” Vixen Temple says.
“And that is partly why we are seeing such an increase in hate towards trans people or drag queens.

Sex worker Vixen Temple says online censorship is making it harder for sex workers to survive online.
Sex worker Vixen Temple says online censorship is making it harder for sex workers to survive online.
“The internet used to be a place for sex workers, sex educators, queer, and people of colour to come on and educate the masses. Now we can’t do that without being censored or censoring ourselves.”
Vixen Temple says it’s a shock to go from having rights as a sex worker in New Zealand to then losing those rights on the internet because sex work is still illegal in most parts of the United States - which is where most social media platforms originate from.
“It’s frustrating that I can walk into a brothel and legally become a full-service worker, but I go on the internet and I am a criminal. As someone with chronic disabilities and chronic pain, there are some days when I can’t leave the house. So being able to still work online when I’m not well enough to go into the brothel would give me that autonomy. But it’s getting harder and harder to do this.”

The stigma against sex workers is still alive and well in New Zealand
Despite sex work being decriminalised in New Zealand for two decades, the stigma towards sex workers still remains.
Sex workers can still struggle to get a mortgage, open a bank account or start a business.
Some sex workers still avoid showing their faces in the media.
Some avoid telling their friends, family, or employers about what they do.
Some have had to walk away from relationships because of their job.
This is why Aotearoa New Zealand Sex Workers' Collective is fighting to explicitly include sex workers in hate speech and discrimination laws.

Healy says "what I need is recognition that I'm part of society, and I need all the protection that everyone else has”.
“Just because we are sex workers, it doesn’t make us any less worthy.”
CREDITS
Words: Zoe Madden-Smith
Editor: Mandy Te
Graphic Designer: Vania Chandrawidjaja
Head of Re: News: Simon Day
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