Addicted to love: the men who claim to be victims of Malta's sex clubs

“It’s Saturday night and I have nobody to go out with. I don’t want to spend another weekend at home. I want to go out and have fun. But where can I go? I need somewhere I can get the physical contact I crave... somewhere safe and yet where boundaries are crossed... Where do I end up going? To one of those gentlemen’s clubs in Paceville...”

It may read like the classic opening of a ‘Confessions’ novel, but the above is actually an email I received at work from someone who wants to ‘get his story out’, without identifying himself in the process. I have decided to refer to him as ‘Lenny’ for the rest of the article, in honour of the character played by Woody Allen in Mighty Aphrodite (who displays a similar, though not identical, problem).

In this case, Lenny is a Maltese man in his late 20s. He is what you would call ‘ordinary’ in virtually every respect: typical Maltese family background; post-secondary education received from a typical institution; and he lives on a average salary, obtained from a typical office job.

But unlike many others his age, he is neither married nor in a relationship of any kind. By his own admission he finds it hard to integrate socially, and has no close friends. He is also prone to depression, for which he has been on medication in the past. And until recently he was certainly not in the habit of going out on weekends – least of all to places like Paceville.

Surrogate sex-life

But all this has changed with the sudden proliferation of ‘gentlemen’s clubs’ over the past few years.

With his modest pay-cheque, Lenny himself may not be high on the list of ideal clients for such venues –which by and large prefer to target affluent businessmen on international conferences, as well as members of Malta’s growing (largely ex-pat) iGaming community, among other lucrative markets.

Nonetheless, these places also offer people like Lenny a hitherto inaccessible opportunity for social interaction… possibly even a sense of romantic fulfilment, albeit fleeting or illusory.

“It’s always the same story,” he continues. “Every time I go there I promise myself afterwards that I won’t go anymore. It’s not worth it, since I end up spending a lot of money and don’t have that much fun. But the great feeling of loneliness takes hold of me, and I feel helpless. I haven’t got a girlfriend and the girls there are beautiful and are good company…”

Once inside, it seems that Lenny undergoes a subtle transformation. He feels less insecure, and even though he knows that the girls’ are more interested in his pocket than his personality, the ephemeral flirtation of a ‘private dance’ nonetheless does bring with it a temporary sense of companionship.

So despite his abundant regrets, Lenny finds himself constantly compelled to return against his better judgment.

“Once again, I decide to go there. A girl comes up to me and initiates conversation. She then asks me if I want to have a lap dance with her. I decide to have one dance with her. I go for an expensive dance, where she dances nude – €100. But it’s not enough. I want to spend more time with her. She tells me I can spend an hour in her company for €300. So I pay for an hour. I don’t feel in control. I spend two more lap dances: €100 each. And after those I spend another hour with her privately. Finally, I realise I've spent more than €900. A sense of guilt takes hold of me for spending that much money. I manage to grab hold of my senses and I tell her that’s enough and walk out of the club”.

Symptoms of addiction

While he may be lonely, Lenny is not exactly ‘alone’. Maltese psychotherapists have in fact started to identify similar trends among their clients.

“It’s hard to say what the precise prevalence is, but I have started seeing people coming to therapy with these issues, which is indicative of a growing problem,” therapist Malcolm Tortell told this newspaper.

Tortell points out that the basic symptoms work in much the same as physical addiction to drugs or alcohol.

“It's a kind of internal loop,” he explains. “It starts off as a way of dealing with a problem: for example, drinking to relax or to feel socially confident. Over time, the body starts to build up tolerance, which means that it needs more and more of the substance, as well being unable to function without it. The brain’s chemistry literally changes, so the substance becomes necessary for normal functioning. In addictions where there is no external substance, the activity triggers off certain pleasurable sensations in the brain, which are caused by the production of neurotransmitters: mainly dopamine. This then becomes the addiction…”

International recognition

The same phenomenon is very well-known in countries where the sex industry has been an undisguised part of the landscape for decades.

‘Sex club addiction’ is a recognised pathology in the USA, and ‘sex club addiction therapy’ is one of the services provided by the Sexual Recovery Institute – a sex addiction treatment centre founded by Dr Robert Weiss, author of ‘Treating Sexual Addiction’, and co-author of‘Cybersex Exposed: Simple Fantasy to Obsession’.

SRI classifies strip club patrons into different categories, stressing that not all are symptomatic of any psychological disorder.

The most common is the ‘rites of passage’ visitor, who would go to a strip club as part of (for instance) a bachelor party, graduation celebration or comparable festive event. Another typical client is the participant in a conference/business meeting, who (in Weiss’s words) “may find himself going to the strip club with his male co-workers at the end of the conference-day and simply considers this to be a part of doing business.”

Neither category is considered ‘problematic’. Indeed, the SRI specifies that this type of patronage is ‘inherently non-pathological’, and even adds that it “clearly has a good deal of cultural validation, (and as such) this behaviour does not itself constitute sexual addiction.”

But there is another category identified by SRI: the “regulars” who find themselves powerless to resist the strip club’s underground allure.

“Sitting in a dark sexualized environment for hours at a time, the sex addict returns again and again, preferably alone, to lose himself and zone out in the intensity of the moment. Sex addicts who frequent strip clubs often are moderate to heavy drinkers, because drinking is required in strip clubs and drinking heavily is encouraged”.

According to SRI, part of the problem concerns low self-esteem, and the symptom specifically involves spending disproportionate sums of money.

“Sex addicts can and do give away large amounts of money seeking the validation and interest of an attractive sex worker/dancer, all the time hoping that he is somehow more special or important than the man behind him or the one in front, because feeling special, wanted, and desirable is his real reason for being there”.

Red light regulation

Lenny would no doubt identify with this category. In an email written while still racked by guilt, he outlines the basic dilemma of his condition.

“As I go home I realise once again that it wasn’t worth it. I spent more money than I should have, and I realise I have little money to get by this month. This keeps happening every month; I cannot save money as I keep spending it on these gentlemen’s clubs. I need to cut this vice but my need to be with a woman is so great – I feel so helpless.”

At present, Lenny is in the phase of never wanting to go back to a gentleman’s club. But he knows himself well enough to know that he will probably break this resolve sooner or later.

In his own appraisal he is the ‘victim’ of an organised exploitation effort.  “Vulnerable people like myself end up being robbed of their money without any sort of protection,” he remonstrates. “If you go gambling there are regulations, online gaming is regulated, sale of alcohol is regulated, but these clubs it seems are out of control!”

Paradoxically, a similar concern has been expressed by nightclub owners in Paceville: especially in the wake of a police raid in 2006, which resulted in the arraignment of some 35 lap-dancers, mostly from Eastern Europe.

The dancers were eventually acquitted by Magistrate Antonio Mizzi, who ruled that the law defining ‘immorality’ was too vague to be applicable to ‘gentlemen’s clubs’.

However, this did not stop further attempts to crack down on some (but significantly not all) Paceville’s lap-dance clubs. Other establishments have since been raided, and more lap-dancers arraigned… prompting calls for clearer regulation by both Opposition spokesman Jose Herrera and tourism minister Mario de Marco.

The same raids also exposed another side to the coin: in the absence of any clear licensing regime, any bar or club can theoretically convert into a lap-dancing venue without any licence change.

The current status quo therefore places all lap-dancing clubs in a veritable legal limbo: unlicensed and unregulated, they operate day-to-day under the constant threat of possible police action… a fact which may also discourage would-be patrons.

This anomaly is greatly emphasised by the fact that the same clubs openly advertise their wares on Air Malta’s in-flight magazine and elsewhere. This raises the question: if it is legal to both provide and advertise the service, why so many raids targeting such clubs in the name of ‘morality’?

The motivation is plainly different, but the people involved in the ‘sexploitation’ industry have every reason to share at least part of Lenny’s concern.

And yet so far government has been reluctant to pass the necessary legislation to regulate the service – or even to acknowledge that the service exists.

De Marco admits he is not keen on the idea of turning Paceville into what he terms a ‘red light district’.

“In the greater scheme of things, I suspect these clubs – situated where they are and concentrated as they are – are deducting from more than adding to the tourism product,” he said in a press comment recently.

“This is a question of balance, but one that can only be achieved through proper legislation and enforcement.”

Justice Minister Carm Mifsud Bonnici has so far avoided any public comment on the issue.

How do you know you are a sex addict?