Sexual Morality in the 21st Century
The balance between puritanical moralism and self-centered politics.
There’s an interesting trend among some (certainly not all!) Gen Z folks — who are by and large having less sex than previous generations — in which they are inclined to have negative feelings about sex, nudity, and romantic relationships in general. I was raised in an environment which told me sex and sex-adjacent activities were all universally bad unless you were married, monogamous, and heterosexual, and as someone with a relatively high sex drive who has always been inclined toward non-monogamy and bisexuality, it was hard and is at times still hard to break free, mentally, from that kind of religion-induced purity culture.
There are a lot of reasons behind this: more screen time and less in-person time (entire friendships, communities, activities, and relationships taking place online rather than in real life) leading to fewer opportunities, good old-fashioned homophobia and transphobia, and some believe the #MeToo movement in some ways made people feel scared to initiate contact. (My opinion on this is neutral, as I’m not educated enough to form a full opinion, but as someone who has been raped, I think the #MeToo movement was important, and yet sexual assault sadly goes on…)
I am, of course, more than a little concerned about the lack of sex positivity, which to me, was hard-earned away from my culture, who demonized sex and used it as a way to control people (especially women) and their bodies, as well as turn the AIDS crisis into a narrative about it being a punishment from God in which their inaction led to horrifying death rates in the gay community. There are people now who say there should be no sex scenes in movies, no nudity in any context, and that hook-up sex culture is always bad. They come at this from perspectives that are conservative and leaning into purity culture, but there’s also a liberal perspective: that it’s offensive to asexual people, etc., to be exposed to any sort of sexual content whatsoever — or that it’s all inherently exploitative or harmful.
Online, I’ve referred to this as the horseshoe theory of sexuality. Eventually, you go so far left you start going right again. I’m half-joking, but secretly, it’s worrisome. When do your feelings get to decide -my- right to have more than one partner? To pose nude for cameras? To embrace my sluttiness, to have casual sex? To watch movies with sex scenes and listen to songs with moans in them and look at naked bodies in art over and over again? I grew up being told ALL of it was bad and shameful, and I repressed my own wants and desires and feelings in order to attempt to conform to the conservative culture of which I was once a part. I want my freedom, my expression.
Sex is part of life. It’s an important part of MY life. I get that it’s not supposed to be a public event. I’m a mom; I understand the desire to shield children from adult-centric situations. I understand that for some people, sex is not part of their life by choice and sex-repulsed people do exist and their feelings are also valid! But please don’t force me back down into an oppressive hole again. I worked too hard to get out of it already. So did lots of other LGBTQ people raised in conservative environments.
But of course — it is my strongly held belief that my politics and morals are not simply formed by what what impacts me personally. The liberation of ALL people is the paramount goal of my life. Marquis de Sade was notorious for his belief that absolute freedom was the most important thing in life. Over laws, morals, and religion. His written works (which, at least as far as we know, are fictional) depicted depraved acts that showed what happens when we value individual freedom above the wants and needs of others. I won’t describe any of it here, but it is fairly horrifying. Some claimed it was satire, but I don’t know. He was indeed a sexual libertine in his lifetime, but supposedly did not live out the more terrible things of which he wrote. Beyond that, I am still horrified by the idea that one person’s freedom is more important than all morals — for instance, consent. Consent is the cornerstone of my own sexual morality, and should be for all of us. What does full and affirmative consent look like? This is a good start.
However, just like “wear a condom” isn’t the only thing that should be taught as part of sex ed, “consent” cannot be the only thing taught as part of sexual morality. There is more. It takes nuance, and personal growth.
It is true that I am polyamorous, and I certainly advocate for the normalizing of non-monogamy. I understand that my relationships and I are both repulsive and/or illegal to many people all over the world. Even in a “free” country like the United States, children are used as pawns in custody cases and non-monogamy and polyamory are seen as threats in the legal system. People have lost kids they helped raise during breakups and divorces. I cannot marry more than one person, which is annoying for financial and legal reasons. Non-monogamy is mocked and vilified, and it shouldn’t be. And of course, much of my own family believe I am sinful and hellbound, but at least I can’t be legally prosecuted for it in the United States.
While I love being polyamorous and talking about my partners, and many people think it is the most interesting thing about me, my personal advocacy focuses more on justice for people in oppressive situations that I don’t face. I’m not poor; I advocate for wealth redistribution anyway. I’m white; I advocate for anti-racism and decolonization in all areas of life. I’m straight-passing and cisgender; I advocate for comprehensive LGBTQ civil rights on every level. I’m American; I advocate for the end of imperialism and giving land back to indigenous people as well as reparations. I don’t say this because I’m oh-so-selfless, (this is all the bare minimum, in my mind) but because my religion and politics dictate that I serve others before myself. Yes, I hope that I will continue to be able to live and love freely. I would rather die than be separated from either of my partners, and would choose death over the loss of my family structure. I know, though, that I have to fight for more than myself.
Where then do we find sexual morality in the 21st century? Consent and condoms, yes. But what about emotional well-being? For instance, I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy discerning my borderline personality disorder impulsive behaviors and a need for attention versus natural desires that are healthy for me to pursue. So, I don’t often have random hookups for this reason. I don’t flirt online as much as I used to. That’s my own sexual morality. I also don’t care for porn, like, at all, and worry about its origins and exploitation potential. But as my kids get older, I wonder how I will address pornography and have open and honest conversations with them about it. (By the way, check out these articles about the ethical consumption of porn with my colleague Belinda Berry here and here over at Olney. This will be vital for how I talk to my boys about it!)
I don’t want to see our culture regress back into a place where we’re putting fig leaves over dicks and nipples on Renaissance statues. I don’t want to hear about perfectly happy people being slut-shamed. I don’t want to be told AGAIN that I have to fit my sexuality into a box to make other people feel more comfortable with it. I want the freedom to express my sexuality in appropriate ways. I don’t want censored platforms for adults.
But at the same time, as we fight oppression and exploitation, we have to come at this in a thoughtful and meaningful way. We need to protect vulnerable people and ourselves too. In this way, empathy and education will continue to be important. Sex education is maybe more important than ever, not just for kids, but for all of us. We can’t sit around and only fight for our rights to fuck. If I was a rich, influential, openly polyamorous person and people were talking about how “brave” I was while children are still being murdered by American weapons and people put up rainbow-colored anti-homeless benches and climate change continues to destroy our planet, and I did nothing about these issues, what the fuck does it even matter?
Find the middle ground. Advocate for sex positivity. Like, REAL sex positivity. Not just tolerance. But don’t let your advocacy stop there. We have a whole lot of wrongs to right. Being polyamorous is in and of itself a radical, counter-cultural act, at least for me. But we have to keep going.
It seems to me that tolerance is the best we can hope for given a fallen world and a commitment to personal freedom. It seems we come from similar backgrounds - conservative Christianity - and have fought to find a place where we can be ourselves. But you and I disagree a lot about the political ramifications of our Christianity, and I don’t expect you to affirm my beliefs. We each explore, research, come to a conclusion and then try to persuade each other, but if we still disagree we agree to vote it out and maybe not like each other much - or hopefully still like each other and have each other’s backs when it really counts. Thoughts?