Today, many people enjoy accessing 24/7 live voyeur cameras, and suddenly, they’re like newly “born” voyeurs—new individuals who suddenly take pleasure in peeping at others. However, they aren’t truly “new people” because they’re essentially a transformation of “old voyeurs.” Yes, voyeurism has existed since ancient times, and the internet has merely boosted their activity, making it more covert and secure.
Recent advancements have enabled unexpected ways to monitor, spy on, observe, and record someone without their consent, with the sole purpose of providing oneself with moments of pleasure. The internet makes everything easier, but on the other hand, it also creates opportunities for obscenity-related legal violations.
A voyeur is, by definition, a pervert who watches with sexual intent—that is, to get off afterward or even during their own “game.” In its most serious form, this can be their only sexual activity. A voyeur is not someone who carelessly observes, peeps, spies, or looks through a keyhole at a neighbor’s beard.
This practice is ancient, though it took centuries and jurisprudence to be recognized as a disorder and a crime. In recent years, voyeurism has proliferated and taken shape with the emergence of new technologies, enabling unforeseen ways to monitor, spy on, observe, and record someone without their consent, with the sole purpose of providing oneself with moments of pleasure.
Women are almost always the primary targets. According to French journalist Clémentine Thiébault in her recently published book, “Voyeur,” 99% of voyeurs are men, and approximately 95% of their victims are women. The repulsive image of a man hiding in the bushes has been replaced by other practices that trigger the same confusion. It’s been a long time since the “Big Brother” that George Orwell presented to us in 1949 as a dystopia became a reality.
What we didn’t imagine was that hidden cameras would reach changing rooms, restrooms, fitting rooms, or hotel rooms with almost absolute impunity. Or that on the subway itself, they could record us with cell phones slipped under our skirts. All of this happens every day, with increasing frequency and in more sophisticated ways, leveraging the potential of technology. Not content with this, deviants who previously acted alone are now creating private forums on the internet and social media where they get to know each other and, after meeting, share captured images, exchange “wise” advice, and revel in erotic pleasure.
There’s the controversial book by Gay Talese, “The Voyeur’s Motel,” which recounts the secrets of Gerald Foos, a deviant man who bought a motel in the early 1980s to satisfy his twisted mind. He installed a network of cameras in the ventilation ducts where he spied on his guests. Talese had access to these images, which recorded the sexual habits and customs of hundreds of clients. The work was followed by a long controversy over its authenticity, but it makes us wonder how much material about our private parts is available in the hands of these callous individuals.
It sounds horrific, but it’s real. In countries like the United States, the rise of popular apartment rental platforms has led to an increase in complaints about the presence of cameras, almost invisible to the human eye, hidden among the furniture. The epitome of this is what’s called molka, a common practice in South Korea, which consists of recording women and presenting those images online as fodder for men to fulfill their lust and fantasies.
All of this is illegal and deviant behavior. Both law and psychiatry are clear on this and offer options for punishment and treatment. So, what then? Then euphemisms emerge. Calling something by its name is one thing, and talking about “voyeurism” and giving the perpetrators an artistic, humorous, and even benevolent veneer is another. A voyeur is the cruel Gerald Foos, but it also applies to artists like photographer Miroslav Tichý, known as the Wandering Photographer. From 1960 to the mid-1980s, this man took hundreds of photos every day that revealed his obsession with the female body. He even equipped his cane with a hidden camera to covertly snap pictures inside the skirts of women he encountered. Yet, he still earned praise and respect from his most famous peers.
There’s Berlanga, a self-confessed voyeur, or Alfred Hitchcock with “Rear Window.” Filmmaker Jean Eustache also gave a voice to a voyeur who recounted his sexual experiences with complete freedom in a Parisian cafe, where he drilled a hole in the women’s restroom wall. The artist was labeled wild, rebellious, or innovative. And he managed to redeem himself. Another hypocrisy in the art world.
This contradicts the euphemism that serves as a social refuge for every voyeur who sexually enjoys nude female bodies and projects all their desires onto stolen images of women. This has a lot to do with social behavior, the objectification of the body. There’s no physical aggression, no touching. It’s true that from a legal perspective, there might be a very complex blind spot that protects many of these voyeurs, but the red line, beyond any paranoia, is beginning to be clearly defined. It’s not enough to simply say that men and women explore sexuality differently. This is a very sexist sexual disorder that attacks women.
However, the internet operates across a wide spectrum. Even if voyeurism exists in a gray area, its existence is considered negative enough that some kind of middle ground needs to be pursued. That’s perhaps what Voyeur House TV offers, a voyeur streaming platform that provides access to a variety of hidden cameras installed in homes. The difference from true voyeurism is the fact that the people being watched are actually aware and are paid to be watched. So, on one hand, Voyeur House TV’s broadcasts are voyeuristic shows enjoyed by voyeurs, but on the other hand, they don’t harm anyone. That’s why Voyeur House TV can be considered a proponent of legal voyeurism, an alternative to fulfilling the “needs” of voyeurs without violating the law.