"It's good to be dismissing disgusting fantasies"
The UK government’s decision to criminalise certain forms of pornography has sparked questions about sexual freedom, online safety and what should be considered acceptable sexual behaviour.
From November 6, 2026, new laws in England and Wales will make it a criminal offence to possess or publish pornography explicitly and realistically depicting strangulation, certain incest scenarios and sexual activity involving adults pretending to be children.
While campaigners have welcomed the changes as a step towards protecting women and children, the restrictions also raise questions about consent, personal preferences and the government’s role in regulating adult content.
But what does the younger generation think?
Differing opinions reveal a debate about where sexual expression ends and potentially harmful behaviour begins.
What Is Changing Under the UK’s Porn Laws?
The restrictions form part of the Crime and Policing Act 2026, following an independent pornography review led by Baroness Gabby Bertin.
Under the new legislation, possessing or publishing explicitly realistic pornographic images depicting strangulation or suffocation, certain sexual activity between relatives, and adults portrayed as children under 16 will become criminal offences in England and Wales.
The law also covers specified scenarios involving step or foster relationships where someone is portrayed as under 18. Government guidance confirms that realistic AI-generated material can also fall within the restrictions.
Those found possessing prohibited pornography could face up to two years in prison for strangulation or incest material, or three years for material involving someone portrayed as under 16.
Publishing prohibited material carries a maximum five-year sentence.
However, the government’s decision to criminalise possession as well as distribution makes the legislation particularly significant for ordinary internet users.
Platforms are not waiting for the first prosecution.
Adult site iWantClips has announced it is removing 17 categories of fetish content for UK users, including choking and breath play fantasy.
The list also takes in smothering and face-sitting material, which shows how cautiously platforms are reading the new law.
‘It’s Creating a Normalised Environment’
For Zara Hussain, restrictions on content featuring adults pretending to be children are a positive development.
She tells DESIblitz: “I think it’s a good thing that they’re removing the part where adults are posing as children.”
Zara believes the existence of such content risks creating a “normalised environment in which people think it’s okay to sexualise children”.
Although the performers may be adults, Zara questions whether depicting them as children should be considered harmless entertainment.
Ameera Ahmed shares Zara’s support for the changes but takes a broader position.
She says: “By banning porn videos that contain strangulation, incest and adults role playing as children, it’s showing viewers that this isn’t normal behaviour and it’s good to be dismissing disgusting fantasies.”
For Ameera, the restrictions establish boundaries around behaviour she believes should not be presented as acceptable.
Her response reflects the view that pornography is not simply private entertainment but can contribute to wider attitudes towards sex and relationships.
This is particularly relevant when explicit content becomes a reference point for people who have limited experience of sexual relationships.
Campaigners say much the same. The End Violence Against Women Coalition welcomed the ban, though it urged ministers to make sure it is properly enforced and to update the Online Safety Act so that platforms must remove this content.
Nevertheless, her reaction suggests that some young people welcome stronger regulation as a way of challenging behaviour they believe should not be encouraged.
Not everyone agrees that all three restrictions are equally justified.
Arman Ali supports banning some of the material covered by the legislation but questions the decision to criminalise pornography depicting strangulation.
He describes that element of the restrictions as dramatic, explaining:
“It’s just a normal kink people have that during sex and it should be displayed as normal on porn without turning it into anything dark.”
His argument focuses on the difference between sexual activity that adults willingly participate in and behaviour involving coercion.
For people who view particular practices as consensual expressions of sexuality, legal restrictions on their depiction may feel unnecessarily intrusive.
However, Arman’s response also highlights why the terminology surrounding choking is important.
Although sometimes discussed casually as a sexual preference, strangulation involves physical risks that cannot be eliminated simply because both participants agree.
Is Choking Really a Harmless Sexual Preference?
One of the central arguments behind the legislation concerns the normalisation of sexual strangulation, commonly referred to as choking.
The government’s independent pornography review, published in February 2025, raised concerns that exposure to strangulation pornography could influence sexual expectations and encourage dangerous behaviour.
Research published by the Institute for Addressing Strangulation in November 2025 offers further context.
In its survey of 4,175 people aged 16 to 34, 55% reported having experienced strangulation during sex, either as the person being strangled or the person doing it. The finding describes the surveyed participants rather than establishing a prevalence rate for every young person in Britain.
The institute also emphasises that there is no safe way to strangle someone.
Pressure to the neck can interfere with breathing or blood flow, potentially causing serious injuries even without visible marks.
This challenges the assumption that an activity becomes physically safe simply because participants consent to it.
For critics of strangulation pornography, the concern is not about condemning people’s sexual identities but about preventing dangerous practices from being presented without acknowledging their consequences.
Arman’s reaction nevertheless illustrates a communication problem facing policymakers: how can authorities explain the risks without making people feel that their private sexual preferences are being judged?
Is Porn Shaping Young People’s Expectations?
The debate also raises questions about the influence of pornography on younger audiences.
Pornography can present unrealistic expectations of sexual relationships, including how partners communicate, establish boundaries and respond to discomfort.
The independent review identified concerns that violent content could contribute to the normalisation of harmful behaviour.
However, exposure to pornography does not mean every viewer will imitate what they see, and the relationship between media consumption and real-world behaviour is complex.
Many young South Asians, in particular, grow up with little open conversation about desire, consent or boundaries.
The internet fills the gap in that space, where younger generations feel more comfortable having discourse around sex and relationships online.
A ban cannot fix that gap on its own. Removing content does not teach anyone how to ask a partner what they want, how to say no, or how to stop when something does not feel right.
Those skills have to come from somewhere else.
Removing content from websites may reduce exposure, but it cannot replace accessible information about healthy relationships and sexual boundaries.
Consent does not automatically remove physical risks, nor does it settle every legal question concerning particular sexual acts. The distinction is especially important with strangulation, where injuries can occur even when there is no intention to cause harm.
Whatever your view of the law, there are a few practical points that hold true for anyone.
First, nothing you see in porn tells you what your partner wants. The only reliable way to find out is to ask, and to keep asking. Consent is consent only if it’s continuous.
Second, consent is not a one-off. Saying yes to one thing does not mean yes to everything, and it can be withdrawn at any point. A good partner will welcome that conversation and not treat it as a mood-killer.
Third, if you are curious about something you have seen on screen, talk about it before trying it. Be honest about the risks, especially with anything involving pressure on the neck. If either of you is unsure, that is reason enough to leave it alone.
Fourth, if you are being pressured into something that feels wrong, it is worth speaking to someone you trust, or a specialist service such as a sexual health clinic or a domestic abuse helpline. You are not being dramatic, and you do not owe anyone an explanation.
As the new restrictions come into force, the challenge for policymakers will be demonstrating that the legislation can reduce harm without shutting down honest conversations about sexuality.
For younger people navigating an increasingly digital sexual culture, those conversations may be just as important as the ban itself.
