Introduction

What’s Left to Say About Sex?

I get this question a lot, and I can understand why. Given the abundant literature written about sex, its omnipresence on screens all around us, and the billions of porn videos we have access to, you might think we’ve exhausted the subject — yet the reality is, we’ve barely scratched the surface.

I believe the sexual revolution that began in the 1960s came to an abrupt halt, and we’re still living in the world that produced it. Women’s sexual liberation, one of feminism’s key platforms, never came to fruition — all we had was a brief taste.

Sure, we’re probably talking more about sex today than we did before, but only on a superficial level. The media tend to take a condescending approach to the subject. It is treated lightly, using comedy, or as a strictly biological affair, but rarely discussed in terms of its relevance or importance to society as a whole. So many questions are left unresolved or get brushed aside with simplistic answers.

Why do we have sex? What attracts us to other people? Why are our fantasies so similar? Why do we adopt certain behaviours in bed rather than others? And why do we have such specific expectations when it comes to the dynamics of seduction between a man and a woman?

Most theories centre on the notion that when it comes to sex, the way things are currently is necessary and unchangeable. Why do we prefer women with large breasts and a slim waist? Because they’re more fertile. Why are men so driven by a desire to have sex? Because of testosterone.

By blaming biology, we ignore the fact that humans — social creatures by nature — are influenced by a range of environmental factors. These explanations sidestep the richness and complexity of human motivations.

But it’s these simplistic answers that abound in popular culture. And we cling to them, because they validate our current choices and behaviours.

Another reason we accept these answers is because our relationship to sexuality remains mysterious in many ways. We like to believe that our sexuality springs from a deep and primal place within us, a realm governed by magical hormonal urges that overwhelm our minds and bodies. We are at the mercy of these cravings, having done nothing to fuel them. They strike us in a flash — poof!

We talk a lot about sex. But we talk about it as if it’s the great joke at the heart of human nature or to justify our behaviours, not to engage in a deeper reflection.

The truth is, we don’t actually want to understand our sexual mores. And above all, we refuse to acknowledge that the rules governing our sexual culture are used to repress women. We ignore the fact that our customs and rituals mainly serve to police women’s desire, so that it adapts to the desire we feel toward women. From this perspective, the female libido becomes a tool for social control.

It’s time to get our heads out of the sand, temper the hormone talk, and realize there is nothing natural, necessary, or immutable in the sexist clichés we impose on women’s libido.

Female desire has been hacked — diverted from women’s own interests by what I call the “cumshot principle.”