Big-name porn sites black out in France over age checks
French visitors to major adult websites Pornhub, YouPorn and RedTube were met Wednesday with a message denouncing privacy risks from government demands that they verify users' ages.
"Your government suggests checking your age every time you visit our site -- that's crazy, right?" asked a message displayed on Pornhub in place of the platform's usual torrent of explicit content.
It was topped with an image of the bare-breasted allegorical figure of Liberty brandishing the French flag from Eugene Delacroix's 1830 painting "Liberty Leading the People".
France has this year gradually introduced requirements for all adult websites to have users confirm their age with details like a credit card or ID document, aiming to prevent minors from accessing pornography.
In a bid to preserve privacy, operators must offer a third-party "double-blind" option that would keep the platforms themselves from seeing users' identifying information.
But Pornhub parent company Aylo says this is an ineffective mechanism that puts people's data at risk from bad actors, hacks or leaks.
"Requiring you to repeatedly provide sensitive personal information creates an unacceptable security risk that we refuse to impose on our users," the message read.
The platform argues that the French law also "diverts users to thousands of sites that deliberately circumvent regulations" and that fail to moderate videos for issues like the age and consent of performers.
Aylo has called for governments to instead have makers of operating systems like Apple, Microsoft and Google verify users' ages at the level of individual devices.
An "age signal" from the operating system could then be used to grant or deny access to adult content without compromising privacy, the company argues.
"Let (Pornhub, YouPorn and RedTube) go," France's digital affairs minister Clara Chappaz said in a statement.
"They can come back the day they're ready to finally respect our rules."
Women's rights group Osez le feminisme (Dare to be Feminist) said in a statement that "this multi-billion-dollar industry prefers to mobilise its resources to fight any attempt at regulation... rather than give up the free, unconditional access that feeds its business model."
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CNBC
3 hours ago
- CNBC
Spirit makers face a sobering cocktail of challenges — from tariffs to teetotalers
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The popular brandy variety, which hails from the French region of Cognac, has been particularly caught in the crosshairs of ongoing U.S.-Sino tensions. LVMH similarly saw a 17% drop in its Hennessy cognac in the first quarter. But the specialty drink is far from alone as trade barriers weaken already drying demand for spirits. LVMH's wine and spirits remains the French luxury group's worst performing division, while Diageo spirits including Tanqueray, Gordon's and Smirnoff saw the steepest declines in the first quarter as sales of Irish stout Guinness rallied ahead. "Distilled spirits in the U.S. are going through a correction, and U.S. tariffs add another layer of uncertainty," Jefferies said in a note last month. The prestige — and often legal requirements — associated with spirits and wines mean that they are heavily dependent on local production and thus heavily exposed to U.S. import levies. Champagne must be produced and bottled within the Champagne region, for instance. 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The tariff hit comes as the industry has slowed over recent years following a strong decade of growth, particularly during the Covid-19 pandemic. Locked-down consumers forked out more on alcohol in 2020 and 2021, fueling a simultaneous surge in premium brands. "During the pandemic, not only did people drink more, they premiumized more," Aujla said. Spirits are often seen as an affordable luxury, especially in good economic times. But they nevertheless tend to be an occasional purchase, with many Covid-era stockpiles remaining in liquor cabinets across the world. As economic conditions turn, however, consumers may be less inclined to cough up $100 for a good bottle, instead downtrading or opting for lower-cost ready-to-drink (RTD) alternatives. 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"There is considerable debate over the extent to which currently anemic demand is cyclical or structural," James Edwardes Jones, analyst at RBC Capital Markets, said in emailed comments. Cyclical pressures refer to economic headwinds and hangover supplies from the Covid-era, while structural shifts refer to changing consumer patterns. "It's a bit of both, and more cyclical than structural," Aujla said. "But when the cyclical headwinds dissipate, we think US Spirits industry growth will be 1-2% lower than the 4-5% historical growth."
Yahoo
4 hours ago
- Yahoo
L'Oreal sees Middle East and Southeast Asia as next growth engines as China slows: ‘Eventually demographics have to win'
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Los Angeles Times
5 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Where Jonathan Gold found spicy comfort food in Koreatown
Sun Nong Dan is a specialist in sullungtang, a gentle broth made by boiling beef bones for hours, even days, until the liquid turns a shimmering, pearlescent white that is pretty much the opposite of what French chefs are taught in cooking school. The soup is fatless and softly fragrant, not quite as rich as the soup at fellow specialist Han Bat, but with a sturdy mineral spine and a sensation that you are getting healthier with each sip. When you first sip sullungtang, you may recoil at its blandness until somebody remembers to tell you that you are supposed to add sea salt and chopped scallions from canisters on the table. A sullungtang restaurant will always have vivid radish pickles on the table; I think it may be a law. If you are so inclined you can dribble some of the tart, spicy brining liquid into the broth, although I never quite think the lovely, beefy version at Sun Nong Dan quite needs it. You can supplement the dish with sliced brisket, the chewy boiled cartilage from ox knees or soft chunks of beef-cheek meat. You can also get a clear, milder broth or order the meats on a separate, nicely arranged platter. Sullungtang has a reputation as a soothing morning-after restorative, perfect both after an evening of hard drinking and as an early-morning palliative. It is not an accident that the restaurant, whose name derives from a historic name for sullungtang, is open 24 hours each day. But the throng in that Koreatown strip mall — it's not there for the ox bone soup. Ox bone soup is not why you stand patiently outside while the excellent noodle shops, stew merchants and seafood parlors that surround it are half-empty. (The hosts seem to take special glee in crossing out the names of supplicants who are not present when their parties are called.) It is not ox-bone soup that New York chef David Chang posts to the zillion followers of his Instagram feed or has been known to eat twice a day when he's in town. When you finally straggle into the cramped dining room, possibly 90 minutes after you first scrawled your name on a clipboard, it is not ox bone soup that you see on every table, not ox bone soup at the center of awkward first dates and not ox bone soup that causes everyone to whip out their phones when the food comes. The waiter will stand patiently at the table while you try to decipher the menu printed on your paper place mat, trying to figure out if a place that offers a choice between boiled ox knee and boiled cow head was really what you had in mind. Because he knows that you are going to settle on the same short rib stew that everybody else in the restaurant is eating, at least everybody under the age of 50. Sullungtang has a definite place in the ecosystem, and you should definitely order a pot to kill time until the main dish comes, but that short rib stew, galbi jjim, is just killer. So you nibble on the side dishes, which include that turnip kimchi, a rather wonderful plate of bristly Korean chives with chile, and an extremely pungent traditional cabbage kimchi. You will be asked if you'd like white or brown rice: Go for the latter, which is steamed with purple beans. The one listed appetizer is steamed dumplings, which aren't bad when the kitchen hasn't run out of them. The sullungtang is light and nourishing; I suggest the one with brisket unless you really like the chaw of kneecap. A bit of time elapses — the restaurant is temporarily without an alcohol license, although the walls are decorated with ads for beer and soju. And then the galbi jjim hits the table, hissing and sputtering in a heavy stone pot nearly the size and heft of your emergency spare, a mountain of meat and vegetables rising out of a violently red lagoon of broth, enveloped in its own small universe of steam. Galbi jjim is one of the standards of refined Korean cuisine, a favorite in the old royal courts and often served on Chuseok, which is more or less the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving. If your grandmother loves you, she might prepare galbi jjim on a Sunday afternoon, and the house will smell wonderful, of meat, soy and sweetness. Galbi jjim is a symbol of prosperity — the cut of beef is not inexpensive, and the dish takes several hours to prepare. I am quite fond of the traditional versions in Koreatown restaurants like Soban and Seongbukdong. Well-made galbi jjim is robust yet delicate, fragile but spoon-tender, flavored with pine nuts and jujube dates. The galbi jjim at Sun Nong Dan is Hendrix shredding a Bob Dylan song or David Choe slapping paint onto a wall, all the sensations of the dish run through a distortion pedal and cranked up to 10. You'll be getting the dish extra-spicy (although the waiter will try to talk you out of it), and the amount of garlic that will seep out of your pores afterward is almost surreal. The pot that it comes in is hot enough and thick enough to crisp the cylinders of rice noodles, tteok, put a light char on the meat and keep the scarlet braising sauce bubbling long enough to reduce to a thick, insanely flavorful sludge that both coats and saturates the turned carrots and potatoes. If you have ordered it with cheese — you have to order it with cheese — a waiter scoops a big handful of white gratings over the top and bazookas it with a torch, creating several small fireballs along the way for effect until the mass breaks down into oozing, char-flecked rivulets that stretch from your chopsticks like pizza goo. 'What kind of cheese is this?'' I asked. 'Cheese,'' the waiter replied.