Archive for the 'Sexual ethics and transformation' Category

The lure of victim consciousness: more on marriage, disparate desire, and responsibility

Below Monday’s post on marriage and disparate desire, “Married Tom” writes:

There are two sides to the incompatible libido/unhappy sex life coin. I would argue that living with the expectation that most advances to your spouse will be met with a “not interested tonight, and since ‘I’ come before ‘us’ that is justifiable” can have equally “soul scarring” results. The sense of rejection, demoralization, and ultimately apathy that builds up over time from constant, predictable rejection is just as real and damaging as the bleak feeling that must come from being “pressured or nagged” into sex. Neither is good, yet you are implying that one is morally acceptable while the other is damning.

You are saying that regardless of whether the decision is mutual, you should learn to accept the situation and be happy with it. Many spouses do just that, I believe it is an example of the factors behind what Thoreau observed behind the “quiet desperation” in many men. Failing to see why the anxious spouse can’t just learn to “deal with it” is not particularly helpful–a strange mix of pragmatism and sanctimony.

Monday’s post was in response to a particularly asinine article. My point was that no one, married or not, is ever “entitled” to have sex with another human being. The “yes” of the wedding day is not a “yes” to every future sexual encounter with a spouse. Good sex is based not on duty but on desire — and when it comes to sex, most folks seem to find that duty makes desire disappear right quick. The author of the article suggested that lower-desire spouses ought to think of sex as one of the many tasks one undertakes to make a partner happy, like taking out the garbage or doing the dishes. I — and most of my commenters — vigorously reject that analogy. Taking out the garbage when one doesn’t want to leads to momentary resentment, while having sex you don’t want can be profoundly damaging to the spirit. Sex is not easily made analogous to any other household activity! Sophonisba makes this point well:

We are all aware that you have to do lots of things you don’t want to do, in life and in marriage. Every decent person does things they don’t want to do, every day–yes, even people who don’t put out on command.

Try stepping away from the easy, comforting “anything I don’t want to do” generalities for a second and put it in concrete terms. You’re not talking about having somebody do “something” or “anything” they don’t want to. You’re talking about having them have sex they don’t want to have. Not quite so vague and fluffy, when you look it in the face. Continue reading ‘The lure of victim consciousness: more on marriage, disparate desire, and responsibility’

“Guardians of each other’s autonomy”: some more thoughts on sex and disparate desire

Over at Feministing this morning, Jessica links to this appalling piece that ran in the London Times: Not tonight, dear . . . in fact, not ever. Written by Dr. Pam Spurr, it’s subtitled: Feminism gave women control of their sex lives, but has it gone too far? Author and sex expert Dr Pam Spurr argues that many women are risking their relationships by saying ‘no’.

Here’s the whopper:

At the risk of being called old-fashioned (though I don’t think that old-fashioned should always have negative connotations) and antifeminist, I’d go so far as to say that for both partners sex could be considered a duty, if it is something that one partner knows would make the other happy.

Does he really want to go up on the roof to repair a leak on a Sunday afternoon?

Does she really want to take out the rubbish in the pouring rain? No, but partners in relationships do such things because they know that it makes the other happy. Sex should be seen in the same light.

Jessica takes it apart very well, and there’s a thriving discussion in the comments section at Feministing as well. Continue reading ‘“Guardians of each other’s autonomy”: some more thoughts on sex and disparate desire’

I’m “viral”, and it makes me happy

Actually, it’s the “enthusiasm not consent” post from July that’s getting the attention. Nothing I’ve ever written gets quoted as often as these lines:

“The opposite of rape is not consent. The opposite of rape is enthusiasm”. It’s dangerous because it’s shocking, and of course, it’s dangerous because it twists the purely legal meaning of the term “rape.” But from the standpoint of one who cares desperately about the well-being of young people, my goal in offering workshops like these is not merely to prevent sexual assault that meets the legal standard of a criminal act. My goal is to prevent that, of course, but to also offer shy and uncertain young people tools to prevent them from having bad sex characterized by obligation, confusion, and detached resignation. I always argue that anything short of an authentic, honest, uncoerced, aroused and sober “Hell, yes!” is, in the end, just a “no” in another form.

Looking through my pings, trackbacks, and hits, it’s my most-linked-to post ever, and I’m genuinely glad, because the subject matters so much.

Thanks, Curmudgette!

“Ginormous breasts” at the gym: a response to Isky about the male gaze and responsibility

My friend Isky sent me an email this week that revisits, yet again, the subject of women, clothing, and the male gaze. I asked him to look at the posts in the modesty category, particularly these (one, two, three) that summarize my views fairly well. Still, Isky seemed to want a specific reply to his situation. As the whole discussion may be triggering or repetitive for some, it’s below the fold. Continue reading ‘“Ginormous breasts” at the gym: a response to Isky about the male gaze and responsibility’

“Domestic Democracy”, Ephesians 5:21, and BDSM in the Christian marriage

So, one more post on BDSM. I can’t promise this will be the last, but I will try to move on to another subject eventually.

In the two previous posts, I made the case that the incorporation of bondage and domination/submission strategies into a couple’s sexual life was not inherently anti-feminist. The debate continues in the comment threads below each.

But what about the Christian perspective on BDSM? Let’s imagine a heterosexual, married Christian couple (I’ll call them Edgar and Edna). Edgar and Edna are faithful to each other and devoted members of their local church, actively involved in the work of the Great Commission. And on Thursday nights after they get home from the building committee meeting, they take turns dominating each other. They incorporate restraints, quirts, and hot wax. It’s not uncommon for one of them to be sore and bruised the next day. Their marriage is a model of Christian egalitarianism. Not only do they fulfill the scriptural commandment to mutually submit to each other as spouses, they choose to take a very literal interpretation of Ephesians 5:21 with them into the bedroom (which they playfully call the “dungeon”.)

I’m making Edgar and Edna up, of course. But I’ve known at least one devoutly Christian married couple who did incorporate some elements of dominant/submissive play into their sexual life. They talked about it openly within a trusted small group at a church to which I no longer belong (no, it’s not All Saints or Pasadena Mennonite). My friends’ admission was a bit too much for even their small group family, and their revelation (which was really an invitation for some discussion about the ethics of married sex) did not result in further dialogue.

Too often, discussions of Christian sexual ethics focus on pre-marital, extra-marital, and homosexual sex. That doesn’t mean those aren’t important topics. Faithful Christians can, with integrity and in good conscience, vigorously disagree about whether all genital sexual activity ought to be restricted to heterosexual married couples. But we talk less about sex within marriage than sex outside of it.

The great debate about marriage in contemporary Christian circles is between “complementarians” and “egalitarians.” The former group argues that God intended men to “lead” their wives as “heads” of the family. Men and women have different roles, each complementing the other. The latter group (to which I belong) argues that God intended spouses for mutual submission, each in radical equality with the other. An army, after all, needs a general — but the military model doesn’t apply to marriage, or so we egalitarians argue.

For those of us who are egalitarians, then, isn’t BDSM — even within monogamous marriage — problematic? Regardless of who is assuming the dominant role, BDSM celebrates the erotics of asymmetrical power. Even if that asymmetry only applies in the bedroom (and not, say, in the divvying up of household chores), isn’t it at odds with the egalitarian worldview? If God intended spouses to practice “radical domestic democracy” (which is how I like to describe the egalitarian outlook), shouldn’t how we make love be congruent with how we live out every other aspect of our marriage? If we are committed to equality in decision-making and chore-sharing, shouldn’t our physical delight in each other also be egalitarian rather than hierarchical? If an egalitarian Christian couple delights in domination and submission (particularly, say, if one partner always assumes the same role), isn’t there some disconnect between their theological principles and their sexuality?

These are all excellent questions, the sort that I think my old friends in the small group were trying to work through. It’s also what Ann’s comment below my previous post on BDSM is getting at, I think.

Christians have to be concerned not only with issues of consent and enthusiasm but also with justice. We live in a world where men and women are taught to delight in the abuse of power. We live in a world where rape and abuse are so common that they have affected how many of us think about sexuality. We know that what “turns people on” is a consequence of both biological and cultural influence; too often, the culture sends out a message that tells both men and women to eroticize domination, degradation, abuse. So even if a couple practicing BDSM is doing so with great care, even if each partner in the relationship feels valued and loved, if they delight in radical inequality in their sexual life they may be bringing the brokenness of the outside world into their intimate private sphere. For married Christian egalitarians in particular, that’s a troubling thought.

I wrote in the previous posts of the potential for BDSM to offer healing and liberation. Those weren’t empty phrases; though I’ve never had any interest in delving into that world myself, I’ve known too many good people who did find growth and freedom within that “lifestyle” to condemn BDSM as inherently incompatible with Christian sexual ethics. At the same time, I cannot help but feel that for most, the delight that is taken in BDSM is rooted less in biological impulse and more in a sexist and exploitative culture. And so I’m torn.

I honor the fact that so many of those who did practice BDSM have such evident care for each other and for each other’s boundaries. I am struck by how many people in that “scene” speak of how they have found recovery and fulfillment through ritualized acts of domination and submission. Their positive experiences are genuine and real. But if they had not already been so wounded by a corrupted, violently misogynistic culture, would they need to find healing in this way? Is BDSM only appealing because it is a response to darkness, or, in a perfectly egalitarian world where we all were raised with healthy sexual messages, would some people still be drawn to it? As a Christian feminist, I have to ask these questions and ask both my fellow feminists and fellow Christians to ask the same.

I’ve gone on and on here, and I’m still ambivalent. Because neither my wife nor I have any real interest in any aspect of BDSM, this is a moot point in our marriage. Still, I’m interested in the discussion because I think it’s important for us (feminists, Christians, honest, thinking people) to reflect on what we think really good sex is. I do believe we are called to match our language and our life (a phrase I use too often, perhaps); we’re called to match what we do in private with what we do in public. That doesn’t mean we ought to have public sex, but it does mean that if we are egalitarians in the outside world we ought to be wary of finding particular pleasure in dominating another human being behind closed doors.

At the same time, we ought also to be wary of insisting that all good sex “looks” egalitarian. Taken to its logical extreme, that would mean that the missionary position would be seen as evidence of too much comfort with male domination. Egalitarians would always have to have sex while spooning, so neither was on top! Proscribing certain positions because of their anti-feminist, complementarian implications would be manifestly silly. But if it’s okay, say, for both partners to prefer sex with the woman on top, isn’t it just a very small leap to saying it ought also be okay to incorporate handcuffs and a ball gag?

I don’t know the answer to all these questions. But I think that Christians need to be fearless and forthright in wrestling with them.

Private pain, private pleasure, public justice: a follow-up on feminism, sexuality, and BDSM

Folks, this is an R-rated post.

Some interesting exchanges in the comments section below Friday’s post on feminism and BDSM prompt me to follow-up.

In the thread, the basic positions (sorry, can’t help it!) are sketched out: one camp argues that BDSM is only a turn-on because of patriarchal conditioning. According to this view, when consenting adults mutually delight in bondage/discipline/submission/domination, they’re still replicating in the bedroom the brokenness of the culture. If we lived in a world without toxically oppressive sex roles, the thinking goes, no one would be turned on by bondage or pain or domination. If we want to end public oppression, we need to make sure our private erotic lives do not replicate (symbolically or substantively) that oppression.

The other camp usually stipulates that the turn-on of BDSM is culturally conditioned. I don’t encounter a lot of folks who say that a delight in BDSM is genetic! But the fact that we live in a culture that eroticizes often unhealthy power imbalances doesn’t mean that every such exchange in the bedroom is automatically an unhealthy replication of a warped society. In this view, BDSM can be both healthy and redemptive. I’ve heard from too many women and men who, though sexually disenfranchised and victimized through childhood or adolescent abuse, have found liberation and authentic erotic empowerment through BDSM. (Someone mentioned the terrific Secretary, which while a perhaps problematic film from a feminist standpoint, came closer to “getting” that aspect of submission and domination than anything I’ve seen in the mainstream.) I’m not going to pathologize these folks or question their feminist credentials, particularly when so many of them (like Dev) are willing to wrestle with the feminist implications of their sexual lives.

Pisaquari writes:

Believe it or not, what people do in their bedroom does NOT stay there. It perpetuates how they treat other people, what they do to the next lover, interactions with the sex industry, etc…

At least in part, that’s right. While like any good liberal I believe in a right to privacy (whether or not it is enshrined in the Constitution), I also acknowledge (as most folks do) that most of us don’t do a great job of building a wall between our public and our private lives. If my sexual life with my wife were characterized by degradation and mistrust, that would invariably carry over into my teaching. If I were to go back to using pornography, as I did many years ago, it would sooner or later affect the way I view the women in my life. If we’re taking sex seriously, we put a lot of ourselves into it! And the reverse is true — if we’re taking sex seriously, how we have it will invariably help shape who we are, for better or worse.

How I have sex matters. If I don’t practice my feminism in my sexual life, then my feminism is superficial and hypocritical. If I don’t practice my faith in the marriage bed, then my faith — despite my claims — has not really transformed my life. The specific details of my sexual life with my wife are, of course, private. But I will say that what we do in the bedroom is far less important than the devotion, honesty, and caring with which we do it. What makes sex unethical, I am convinced, is exploitation, abuse, dishonesty, and selfishness. What makes sex righteous (and feminist) is genuine concern for mutual pleasure, radical trust, and a willingness to be there for the other person as he or she processes through their own responses to the sex that’s being had.

It’s possible, too, to overthink this stuff. The word “fuck”, for example, is a loaded with potential anti-feminist implications. It’s a word we use for sex — and violence. We do our children a disservice by raising them in a culture where the most common vulgar term for intercourse (”fucking”) is so closely linked to the term that most commonly expresses sudden anger (”Fuck off!”). In a world where women are often victims of male violence that mixes together sex and rage, it’s more than a little unfortunate that our most popular slang word also mixes the two! That said, I think a feminist can cry out (when so inclined) “Fuck me!” or “I’m going to fuck you so hard!” in good conscience. A lusty and enthusiastic “let’s fuck” may take a similar semantic form to the vocabulary of degradation and violence, but thinking adults (even thinking teens) can use the phrase with emotional and ideological safety. The words themselves matter less than how they are understood at the time.

Here’s the point: if honesty, integrity, communication, trust and concern for the other’s well-being are the hallmarks of good sex, then I think it quite possible that many practitioners of BDSM could meet that standard at least as well as those of us who are cheerfully “vanilla.” One thing I’ve learned from my friends in that “scene”: it is possible to “perform” acts of domination and submission in the bedroom (or the family dungeon!) while also practicing radical respect and mutuality. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a huge amount of potential for ritualized self-abuse, soul-destroying cruelty, and toxic exploitation within the BDSM world. But you can have miserable, selfish, damaging sex with your spouse in the missionary position with the lights off. Take it from this thrice-divorced fella. The postures adopted, the wedding bands present or not, and the toys and tools used do not tell us much about whether or not sex is mutual, loving, or safe.

Ultimately, “Good Sex” (in the larger sense of “contributing to the greater good” as well as mutually pleasurable) can happen in an almost infinite variety of ways. And though it does not fall into the realm of my own experience, I am reliably assured by those whom I trust that it can even involve the carefully negotiated use of pain and domination.

A long post on feminism, BDSM, consent, and constructive suffering

Though most of the letters I get from readers revolve around the same few issues (older men/younger women; student crushes on teachers; chinchilla care), every once in a while I’ll get a spate of queries about another topic. And on my return from Israel, I found no fewer than three emails in my inbox on the topic of BDSM and feminism. This same week, a student obliquely raised the subject in my conference hours.

I don’t do this often, but let me suggest a quick perusal of the generally work-safe Wikipedia entry on BDSM. It’s a non-titillating, and inoffensive introduction to a world that makes many folks uncomfortable (in more than one sense, I suppose.)

Two of the three emails I received were from young women; one from a man in his thirties. All three are self-described feminists, and all three are involved — in one way or another — in the BDSM subculture. And their questions were all essentially the same. “Caitlin” (21) wrote:

I’m a women’s studies major at (mid-size university in Ohio)…The only sexual experiences I have ever had with another person that felt safe and pleasurable… were in situations where I was a submissive. I’m not into heavy pain, but I connect my own arousal to being dominated and controlled. I know it’s my “choice” to participate in this scene, but I feel as if I’m betraying a basic feminist principle by doing so.

How can I distinguish between what I really want and what society has acculturated me to want? If I can’t discern the difference, am I a bad feminist? Do feminists have to have vanilla (non-BDSM) sex?

I should add that I was raised in a liberal Catholic home, and though I don’t go to church anymore, I still believe in God. I’d be interested in a feminist Christian perspective on BDSM, because I haven’t seen anything like that.

The questions in Caitlin’s middle paragraph are essentially the same ones the other two emailers asked, and they jive with what my student was asking me this week.

I have no personal experience in the BDSM scene or the fetish world. Though I often allude to a colorful past, I confess that even in my wildest periods of youthful indiscretion and experimentation, I shied away from that subculture. I’ve long known — ever since I was a child — that I have, for lack of a better phrase, a mean streak. I’ve worked all my life to keep it in check; much of my passion for feminism and animal rights work is linked, on a not-very subconscious level, to my own awareness that my capacity for cruelty is very real. God and I have done some amazing work together; the gentleness that I think many others can see in me today is rooted entirely in my effort and His grace, not in my nature. Stepping into the world of BDSM would, for me, have been to tempt something that even at my most reckless I was not ready to tempt.

That said, I’ve had many colleagues and students and fellow feminist activists who were involved (to one degree or another) in the world of domination and submission. Indeed, when I think about it, it’s remarkable how many men and women I’ve known who spent time in that subculture. Going back to my years as an undergraduate, I can recall a series of conversations on the question of whether or not BDSM was compatible with feminist commitments. Twenty years ago — even ten years ago — I was certain that an authentic devotion to public equality couldn’t possibly coexist with a delight in private transactions in which sexual power is surrendered and taken. But I’ve met too many women whose public “feminist credentials” were impeccable and whose freely chosen delight in submission was equally sincere.

I got a note last year from a former student. I looked for it in preparation for this post but couldn’t find it. She’s worked as a submissive fetish model, and just finished her MA in women’s studies. She remembered that when she was my student, I had made some remark (long since forgotten by me) that she perceived as “closed-minded” about the BDSM world. It had taken her a while to get around to correcting me, but correct me she did. Part of what she said in her email I remember well, though I’m paraphrasing rather than quoting in the hope of conveying the gist of what she said:

Growing up as a teenage girl in my society, I felt my power taken away from me by everything and everyone: peers, parents, culture, men. No one ever asked me what I wanted. It was only in the ’scene’ that I found a voice. I’ve never known people as respectful, as caring, as concerned with my feelings and my own boundaries as the people I’ve found in BDSM. Because we find pleasure in pushing limits, we take greater care than anyone else does to make sure that we respect each other’s boundaries. Yes, as a submissive, I’ve found pleasure and I’ve found a voice. Of course it’s been cathartic to be involved in this world, but it’s not just about healing the damage done to me as a girl. It’s brought me healing and joy.

I remember she pointed out to me that as an endurance runner, I obviously was aware of the close relationship between suffering and pleasure. She even used a phrase I first heard used by one of my old running buddies: “constructive suffering.” Reflecting on her note, I admitted that taking my body to its often painful limits has not only been empowering for me, it has helped me to heal much of my own physical self-loathing. The greatest and most enduring payoff of endurance work hasn’t been the eradication of fat, because fat isn’t the enemy. The greatest payoff of marathoning hasn’t been the lowered resting heart rate or the endorphin high. The greatest payoff has been the end to the dualism that sees the body as separate, disconnected, and alien from me. Running — especially hard, painful running — has helped me understand what it means to be an incarnate spirit, a soul and a body joined together. And I’ve become convinced that for many men and women, participating enthusiastically in BDSM can bring about the same sort of epiphany.

I’m a great believer that we’re all called to work for public justice. I’m also convinced that a commitment to public justice needs to be built on a foundation of private virtue. I don’t think compartmentalization is healthy. And until relatively recently, I would have had a hard time believing that a “feminist submissive” wasn’t an oxymoron. But if, as my trusted sources tell me, real integrity and caring and concern for “voice” and boundaries not only exists in but is treasured by the BDSM community, then I think it’s possible to say that feminism is indeed compatible with this often misunderstood subculture.

Those who are better informed than I are welcome to weigh in.

Summer Reprint: Letting go of the Rescuer: a response to Charles on men, “damsels in distress” and pro-feminism

I’m still on summer semi-hiatus, and will be back to regular posting by August 22.

The following was originally published October 18, 2005.

Gosh, I’m now averaging two letters a week from folks who have found this blog by searching for information about “older men, younger women” on the ‘net. Usually, I get letters from young women who are attracted to older men, or older men defending their interest in younger women, but yesterday’s letter from “Charles” was different. Here’s some of it:

The experience I am going through is a difficult one. I was very closely
involved with a (now) 23 year old for four years. We broke up this past
spring, largely because she was going to attend graduate school in another
country for several years and had not been faithful to me in the past. No
trust meant no relationship anymore, despite my great affection toward her
and bond with her. We still remain friends and I look out for her best interests,
which is why I was so distraught to hear that a 35 year old had
asked her out at a bar and she said yes.

I agree with you that, despite exceptions to the rule, younger women
dating older men is not very healthy. She is a beautiful girl who has no
trouble finding dates, so its not like this is the only opportunity she
has. She doesn’t seem to find it to be a big deal and kind of flippantly
says that guys are five years less mature than their age and girls are
five years more mature, so the ages (in her mind) kind of equal out. But
I have to disagree with that. His formative, adult experiences are much
more developed than hers. If you use the age of 18 as a baseline for
‘adulthood,’ than he’s been an adult about four times longer than she has.

She also has had many of the problems that many young women interested in
older men seem to have, as you alluded to. Her father was almost
completely dysfunctional as a human being and was not a substantive part
of her childhood. She was raped at 13 to lose her virginity and she has
had a breathtaking number of sexual partners in an equally breathtaking
variety of ways, all of whom (with the exceptions of a few close
boyfriends) she didn’t like.

Should I not feel concerned for her? Should I not feel angry toward her?,
because I do. I do not have a problem with her dating and I want her to
be happy, but I am convinced this is not the way to achieve that
happiness.

Charles writes an interesting and heartfelt note, and it’s the sort of thing I’ve heard from other young men on this subject.

First off, there’s nothing wrong with being angry at someone who has cheated on you. Anger, particularly when it is expressed in healthy rather than destructive ways, is a normal response to injury. Once that anger festers into enduring resentment, however, it’s a good deal more problematic.

I’ve known quite a few men who share with Charles what can only be described as a powerful desire to “rescue” damsels in distress. The tell-tale signs of a man with a “knight in shining armor” complex are clear: he “looks out for her best interests”, and he expresses deep — and perhaps justified — anxiety about her early experiences and their impact on her subsequent sexual choices. I’m sure Charles is a very nice young man, and I wish him well. But ultimately, I think he’s having a difficult time separating genuine love and concern from a desire to control! Continue reading ‘Summer Reprint: Letting go of the Rescuer: a response to Charles on men, “damsels in distress” and pro-feminism’

Al Rantel, Oliver North and Jack McClellan: a long post about pedophilia and macho posturing

Yesterday, it seemed as if the saga of Jack McClellan was the only story on the local AM airwaves. McClellan, for those of you who never watch Fox News or listen to right-wing AM radio, is a self-identified pedophile who has managed to stay scrupulously within the bounds of the law while advocating for man-girl love.

McClellan is a rather pathetic character, and not the subject of this blog post. How men talk about him is.

Yesterday evening, while driving to Pilates, I caught the beginning of the “Al Rantel show” on KABC 790. I don’t listen to conservative talk radio often, but I check in every once in a while. (I’m not trying to work myself up into a lather of lefty indignation; I just think it worthwhile to “keep tabs” on what the right is thinking and saying.) Rantel led off his show with a discussion of Jack McClellan, and spent nearly ten minutes describing what he (Rantel) would do to McClellan if he had a chance. “I’d break his camera over his nasty head and take my chances with a jury. No jury with parents on it would convict me.” (Interesting how some on the right, so theoretically in love with the American system of jurisprudence, are quite happy to call for jury nullification when it suits their interests.)

When I got home last night, I took the chinchillas out in their play room. We have a small TV in the chin room, and I read the New York Review of Books with half an eye and watched the tube with another half. (One full eye carefully monitors the babies during their out time.) I paused briefly on Fox News, and listened to old Oliver North introduce his segment about McClellan. The former Marine officer reminded all of us that before he was a sanctimonious talking head, he had been “trained to kill for a living”. He declared that if he saw McClellan anywhere near his “two lovely grand-daughters”, he’d murder him on the spot. North’s two guests did not challenge him.

I’m struck by the way in which both Rantel and North felt compelled to threaten McClellan with physical violence. Indeed, neither was capable of raising the real issue (which is McClellan’s first amendment right to be open about his attraction to young girls) without first declaring that if given the chance, he would take the law into his own hands. It’s cheap vigilantilism, of course, but it’s something more: it’s a specific kind of macho posturing. Both North and Rantel reaffirm their own masculinity by detailing their willingness to use violence. It’s stunningly puerile.

In American adolescent “boy culture”, a great deal of conversation traditionally revolves around the question of “who can kick who’s ass.” Threats of physical violence, detailed discussions of what one intends to do to one’s perceived rivals, are far more common among many middle-class boys in their teens than actual scraps. Among the young, a “beat-down” or an “ass-kicking” (or, more often, the threat thereof) is used to mark the boundaries of what is acceptable male behavior. When a boy “crosses the line” in the eyes of his peers, he will be threatened with physical violence. Most adult men who survived junior high school remember how the language of beatings was often more pervasive than the beatings themselves. As boys age, they are less likely to judge themselves by their ability to kick each other’s asses — and more likely to use sexual prowess with women as the yardstick with which to measure their own anxious masculinity.

North and Rantel would no doubt dismiss me as an effete urban intellectual, the very embodiment of a member of the coastal blue state elite whom they despise. (Gender studies? Chinchillas? Dual citizen? Pilates? The New York Review of Books? Veganism? I wouldn’t dare tell them I learned to drive on Ford pickups, dipped Skoal, listened to “Alabama” and am still pretty damn comfortable in a Western saddle.) North and Rantel would surely insist that they aren’t posturing, but rather expressing their willingness to “protect little girls from predators.” But of course, “protecting vulnerable women” is the excuse non pareil for issuing physical threats.

When I listen to men like Oliver North and Al Rantel, I don’t hear genuine worry about little girls as their primary concern. Both North and Rantel mentioned their desire to protect girls only briefly, and went on at much greater length about their own fantasies of doing physical violence to Jack McClellan. Their real focus was less on the threat to young women, and more on rhapsodizing about what they’d do and how they’d do it (and in Rantel’s case, how he’d get away with it.) In a world where the pedophile is (perhaps rightly) the most maligned figure of all, he is the perfect tool for pundits like these talk show hosts. The horridness of a pedophile’s identity, the particular details of his sexuality, make him a rare thing in contemporary public life: a figure against whom threats of murder can be made openly and fearlessly. McClellan is the ideal punching bag through whom these microphone jockeys can prove to all just how manly, brave, and virtuous they are. It’s seventh grade all over again.

What amuses me about some on the right is how self-righteously protective they are of little girls — and how willing they are to tolerate the abuse of young women just a few years older than McClellan’s targets. The Norths and Rantels of the world are the ones who decry the “feminist sex police” who “scream date rape” on college campuses. The Norths and the Rantels of the world were vociferous defenders of the Duke lacrosse team, who while apparently not guilty of rape, were certainly guilty of the sexual exploitation of a working-class African American stripper. (And guess what, folks? Any comments about the Duke case will be deleted. Not the topic here.)

Let’s be blunt here: the only difference between McClellan and a hell of a lot of men is that the former wants to have sex with girls who are pre-pubescent, while the latter are often attracted to girls still well below voting age. But the arrival of puberty is not the same as the arrival of emotional maturity. A fully-developed fifteen year-old girl is likely to be ogled by a great many older men (ask her about the wolf whistles sometime.) The eight year-olds on whom McClellan is fixated are children, deserving of protection. We are right to be appalled by the content of the fantasies he shares publicly, though we are not right to threaten him with harm. But the arrival of menarche and the development of secondary sex characteristics do not mark as rigid a line between the “pedophile” and the “normal red-blooded American male” as some imagine.

We live in a culture that fetishizes the bodies of teen girls. The most popular niche in pornography, we’re told, focuses on “barely legal” teen girls. The implication is that the men who frantically masturbate to the images of those who’ve just turned eighteen would love to be looking at much younger girls, but are held back by fear of legal repercussions and lack of easy access. How many adult men — say in their thirties or forties — are enraged that McClellan is drawn to ten year-olds, while these same men stare at high-school cheerleaders just a handful of years older than the pedophile’s targets? A ten year-old is a child; a fifteen year-old is a child. The fact that the latter may have gone through puberty in no way makes an adult man’s sexual attraction to her any more legitimate. The end of childhood is determined more by emotional maturity than by the arrival of breasts and menses, after all.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am disgusted by Jack McClellan, though I wish him no harm. But I am also disgusted by the legions of men (of whom Ollie North and Al Rantel are only two famous examples) who brag about their desire to beat the pulp out of McClellan while sanctioning the sexualization of girls just a few brief years older than McClellan’s targets. One wonders if there isn’t an element of self-loathing and guilt in the hate that’s directed towards a pedophile like Mr. McClellan.

If we’re going to protect our children, folks, let’s protect all of them. That includes those who’ve gone through puberty. And if we’re going to call a man “sick” for being attracted to a child who is, say, eight years below the age of consent, let’s apply the same term to the men who are drawn to those eight days below that same demarcation line.

Addendum: To continue my point, read this old post of mine about National Review columnist John Derbyshire. Derbyshire, who is considerably older than I am, opined in 2005:

It is, in fact, a sad truth about human life that beyond our salad days, very few of us are interesting to look at in the buff. Added to that sadness is the very unfair truth that a woman’s salad days are shorter than a man’s — really, in this precise context, only from about 15 to 20.

Bold emphasis mine. So what’s the moral distinction between McClellan, who likes ten year-olds, and Derbyshire, who likes ‘em at fifteen?

Notes on Bergman, Walsh, sexual decision-making and homosociality

I’m in my office with a big stack of summer grading to do, and thus little time to post. I’m scatterbrained more than usual, perhaps knowing that once I’m done grading, my real vacation begins!

I’m reflecting this morning on several things, including the deaths of Ingmar Bergman and Bill Walsh. When I was in college, I watched (at my mother’s insistence) a tape of the former’s “The Seventh Seal”. I was transfixed and moved and stunned, and more than two decades later, it remains one of my favorite films ever made. I’m not a movie buff, and most of the rest of the Bergman oeuvre leaves me cold, but I watch “The Seventh Seal” at least once a year.

Bill Walsh coached the 49ers throughout my adolescence; I was raised a loyal Niner fan and followed them obsessively throughout the 1980s. My interest in professional football began to diminish just as Walsh retired in 1989. I don’t think I can name more than three current players on the 49er roster; I can still recall — without prompting — the names of each player in the marvelous 1984 secondary (Wright, Lott, Williamson, Hicks.) Walsh was my coaching hero, and though he was a head coach at Stanford, my fellow Cal alums know that long before he served in Palo Alto, he was an assistant coach at Berkeley in the early 1960s.

But in addition to thinking kind thoughts about these two very different influences on my adolescence, I’m also struck by this New York Times article on The Whys of Mating.

…thanks to psychologists at the University of Texas at Austin, we can at last count the whys. After asking nearly 2,000 people why they’d had sex, the researchers have assembled and categorized a total of 237 reasons — everything from “I wanted to feel closer to God” to “I was drunk.” They even found a few people who claimed to have been motivated by the desire to have a child.

Here’s the good part:

The results contradicted another stereotype about women: their supposed tendency to use sex to gain status or resources.

“Our findings suggest that men do these things more than women,” Dr. Buss said, alluding to the respondents who said they’d had sex to get things, like a promotion, a raise or a favor. Men were much more likely than women to say they’d had sex to “boost my social status” or because the partner was famous or “usually ‘out of my league.’ ”

Dr. Buss said, “Although I knew that having sex has consequences for reputation, it surprised me that people, notably men, would be motivated to have sex solely for social status and reputation enhancement.”

Well, it may have surprised the good doctor, but it isn’t a surprise to any of us who do gender studies. I’ve often praised Michael Kimmel’s use of the term “homosociality”. Homosociality is the notion that many heterosexual men engage in sexual activity as much to earn status with other men as for sexual pleasure itself. Having sex with women (particularly those who are perceived as “high-status” in the eyes of male peers) is as much about increasing the measure of one’s own manhood as it is about private satisfaction or erotic and emotional connection with another human being.

The study cited in the Times was done on students at the University of Texas, Austin. The men surveyed were generally of college-age, a time in men’s lives when they are particularly susceptible to homosocial pressures to win status. This study is a helpful reminder of the ubiquity of those pressures — and of the damage that homosociality inflicts on men and women alike. For those of us committed to working with teens and young adults, it’s still more incentive to focus our efforts on deconstructing young men’s desperate, heart-breaking, soul-destroying desire to win favor in the eyes of their male peers.

Challenging homosociality is near the top of the priority list for me in my men’s work. For those of us who want to be genuine egalitarians, what matters is not merely what we profess. Men who want to be real change agents need to treat women (and speak about women) the same way when they are “alone with the guys” as when they are in “mixed company.” Many women know what it’s like to have a boyfriend who is sweet and charming when she’s alone with him, but a jerk when he is surrounded by his friends (this is usually her bitter introduction to homosociality.) The great challenge is to be radically consistent, to be the same man always — with the brothers of Delta Kappa Epsilon, with one’s grandmother, with one’s girlfriend, with one’s teachers. I’ve seen young men achieve this time and time again, but rarely without colossal effort, and rarely without earning scorn from their peers. But there’s tremendous value in matching one’s language and one’s life. The damage that not doing so creates is equally tremendous, and the fact that women often bear the brunt of that failure is difficult to deny.

Not just consent but enthusiasm: some notes on college sex workshops and stoplights

The thread below this post has gotten sidetracked in a variety of typical ways. Noumena wrote:

How to not get raped’ workshops are legion and often mandatory for new college students, but I’ve never heard of a `how not to become a rapist’ workshop, to say nothing of `having a healthy sex life at college on your own terms’.

And I mentioned that I’ve facilitated a variety of workshops that deal with these issues, though not with those titles. One workshop I helped design years ago, and which I would love to do again, was something we called “Consent and Beyond”. Originally growing out of the work of Peer Sexuality Outreach at Cal, the workshop was designed to create honest discussion about how young people can communicate more effectively about desire, boundaries, limits, and, of course, consent.

Most boys, for example, get the “no means no” message pretty loud and clear in high school and college workshops. It’s a worthy if basic message, and one well worth repeating over and over again. But as anyone who works around young people and sexuality will tell you, in and of itself a “no means no” reminder is woefully insufficient. Many of the young men and women I work with, for example, talk to me of what I’ve come to call the “stoplight” phenomenon. Traffic signals, of course, have three colors: red for stop, yellow for caution, green for go. Good drivers are taught to stop on “red”, which functions as a “no”. But of course, even at the busiest urban intersections, no light stays red indefinitely. If you wait long enough at a stoplight, every red will become green. And when all we do is teach young men that “no means stop” when it comes to sexual boundaries, we often send them the message that if they just wait long enough (or pester, push, nag, beg, play passive-aggressive games) they’ll get the “green light” they’re so hungry for. Good “sexual boundaries workshops” go beyond the “no means no” message. Specifically, we look at the ways in which many men will accept a “no” as a “yellow light” rather than a red, assuming that if they simply keep up unrelenting pressure (often abetted by alcohol or exhaustion) they’ll get the permission they seek.

Part of being a good man, I teach, is not being a relentless advocate for your own pleasure. Part of being a good sexual partner is not using a variety of psychological (and chemical) tactics to turn the red light to green, to turn the “no” into a “yes”, or even worse, to simply wait until the young woman has grown tired of saying “no” and falls into a resigned silence. This is all part of the “how not to be a rapist” workshop. And while one hears anecdotal stories of young women persistently pressuring male partners for sex, all of the evidence suggests that the overwhelming majority of the pressure is uni-directional, from boys towards girls.

The message that needs to be repeated over and over again is this one: true consent is never tacit, it is never silent. Too many young men become date rapists by confusing silence with a clear, verbal affirmation. “No means no”, but with folks you don’t know well, you need to presume that silence (especially when accompanied by physical passivity) is also a loud, clear, shout-it-from-the-flippin’-rooftops, “NO!” How many women have had sex they didn’t desire with men they didn’t want simply because they were too tired of fighting, too tired of resisting, too eager to just have it over with?

A dangerous line I sometimes use: “The opposite of rape is not consent. The opposite of rape is enthusiasm”. It’s dangerous because it’s shocking, and of course, it’s dangerous because it twists the purely legal meaning of the term “rape.” But from the standpoint of one who cares desperately about the well-being of young people, my goal in offering workshops like these is not merely to prevent sexual assault that meets the legal standard of a criminal act. My goal is to prevent that, of course, but to also offer shy and uncertain young people tools to prevent them from having bad sex characterized by obligation, confusion, and detached resignation. I always argue that anything short of an authentic, honest, uncoerced, aroused and sober “Hell, yes!” is, in the end, just a “no” in another form.

That sets the bar pretty darned high. But given the consequences of unwanted sex to the body and the heart and the mind and the soul, given the potential for sex to be life-affirming and ecstatic, our young people deserve to have the bar set just that high.

Private virtue, public justice: some very long thoughts on men, leadership, and the lie of “compartmentalism”

Responses to my post about pro-feminist men and Antonio Villaraigosa’s infidelities have been, well, lukewarm. At her place, Sassy worries that by suggesting that the mayor treats women in his life as disposable, I’m reinforcing an anti-feminist sense of victimhood. She also writes:

Part of feminism for me though is recognizing that women have the ability to make the best choices for themselves, that includes making the choice to stay or leave a man with a wandering eye. I know very little about his wife, but I can assure you that some of those tears she has cried has been from the assumption of others that he treated her as “disposable” and what others must think of her…

No doubt, but those of who work as male feminists have an obligation to do more than counsel women to make “the best choices” when faced with infidelity. There’s a strain in many of the responses to my post that suggests that bad male behavior is to be expected, and feminism should focus itself solely on giving women tools with which to respond to that behavior. That’s fine, and I do share an interest in giving women those tools — but I’m also convinced that those of us who call ourselves male feminists ought to be doing more to challenge men to transform their sexual behavior. Feminism is surely about more than empowering women; it surely is also (in part but not in whole) about holding men accountable and setting new standards for what is acceptable.

In the comments below my post, Catty writes:

I do think this hand-wringing is counterproductive and sets people up for failure.
In this day and age, Roosevelt or Kennedy would have neeeever gotten elected.

I understand the exasperation many folks have with the media’s incessant prying into the sexual lives of public figures. I hear the FDR and JFK line a lot, too; some people clearly yearn for an era in which great men were free to be great in public and have their quiet, discreet, unreported fun. Catty seems to believe, as many now believe, that there is no connection between public justice and private virtue; they believe that a man can simultaneously betray marriage vows and be desperately loyal to other, loftier principles. In other words, they believe that many people — perhaps great men in particular — can live their lives in compartments.

My faith informs my feminism, and vice versa. Though I acknowledge that philanderers have made great leaders in the past, that’s due less to their personal success at compartmentalization and more to God’s remarkable habit of “writing straight with crooked lines.” At the end of the day, my faith tells me we will all fall short of the mark; we are all works in progress; we are all going to sin in one way or another. But acknowledging that sin is part and parcel of the human condition is very different from turning a blind eye to it. Recognizing that humans are often frail is very different from accepting private betrayals as inevitable. And understanding that we all make mistakes doesn’t mean that we ought to continue to enable the making of them.

JFK and FDR were notoriously unfaithful; the Marilyn Monroe and Lucy Mercer stories (among others) are well-known. But these two men grew up in an era where men were expected and encouraged to live their lives in compartments. They were taught that it was permissable to be one way in public, and radically different in private. They were also raised in a culture where wives accepted their husbands’ infidelity as inevitable, asking only that their philandering spouses be discreet. The male-dominated press, filled with journalists who may also have had girlfriends on the side, conspired with the JFKs and the FDRs and others to keep everyone’s sexual behavior out of the public eye.

A feminist society is one in which we raise both young men and young women to treat each other with dignity, with kindness, with radical honesty. Feminism is not merely about liberating women to behave as badly as men have traditionally been allowed to behave; feminism is perhaps also about asking men to live up to the same moral standards that women have historically been required to meet. Of course, that’s a position grounded firmly in both faith and feminism rather than the latter alone. Secular proponents of women’s equality do not all share the conviction that the best advocates of public justice are also those who practice authentic private virtue.

In this country, the right-wing emphasizes private morality and often ignores the requirement to provide justice through public institutions. The left does the opposite. The right doesn’t see the communal responsibility (expressed through state institutions) to provide for the health and welfare of the vulnerable. The left doesn’t see much point in encouraging monogamy as a solution to social problems. The right sees the “family” as the solution to all problems, while the left almost completely discounts it. That’s a broad generalization, but it’s not all that far off the mark. Both left and right often fail to see that we need a combination of strong, accessible public institutions and strong, kind, morally accountable citizens to build a just society.

From a feminist standpoint, I prefer Bill Clinton to George W. Bush. The former’s track record on women’s rights globally, while far from perfect, was much better than his successor’s. On the other hand, not even his worst enemies have accused W. of any sexual impropriety since his conversion experience more than two decades ago. Clinton’s personal life was characterized by recklessness bordering (if the stories be half true) on abuse: Bush’s private life is above reproach — but his public actions have been firmly anti-feminist. But I refuse to accept a false choice between being led by a man of private virtue and public misogyny on the one hand and being led by a man who embraces egalitarian principles in the open but fumbles disgracefully with young women half his age in a hallway off the Oval Office on the other. Public justice matters; private virtue matters.

It is only unreasonable to demand both when we buy into the notion that men are fundamentally weak. We often wrongly assume that “great men” naturally have great sexual appetites that cannot possibly be met within the confines of a marriage to one woman. Their energy and their commitment to the greater good require that they have a little “down time” in the arms and beds of a variety of young women (or young men). We insist that it’s both unfair and unrealistic to demand that these men honor all of their commitments — as long as they are good servants to the public, it’s none of our business whether or not they are lousy husbands.

Every man, howver, who holds a position of power (be he president or professor) is instantly a role model to younger people, especially to younger men. We do take cues, and rightly so, from our leaders about what is acceptable and permissable. A teacher, a youth minister, a cabinet secretary, a monarch, a president — they are watched and studied by the young. The young want to know if those who guide them and provide for them are matching their public language and their private lives. When they see hypocrisy, when they see a profound disconnect, when they see that even the most admired of men cheat — they learn not to expect too much from men, or from themselves.

Had they been raised in a different era and held to a higher standard, I have no doubt that FDR and JFK could have both been successful politicians and faithful husbands. Had they been raised in a culture that taught men to speak and act when they are alone with their buddies the same way they speak and act around their sisters and wives, they might well have turned out to be even better leaders than they did. While feminists ought to care more about a politician’s ideas than about his or her private sexual behavior, it is not unreasonable or overly idealistic to ask for decency in every aspect of a leader’s life. Our sons and daughters need to see men who can treat women as equals in the boardroom — and at the same time, keep their commitments in the bedroom.

It’s not too much to ask, it’s not too much to demand. And I am demanding it less for myself than for the young people who so desperately need to know that radical, authentic integrity is possible. I’m not asking for perfection, but I am asking for an end, once and for all, for to compartmentalization.

Reinforcing the “wolf in sheep’s clothing” stereotype: why I’m so mad at Antonio Villaraigosa

When I was visiting my family last week for the Fourth of July, my Northern California cousins (who tend to regard the southern part of the state as a parched wasteland populated by the vacuous, the self-absorbed, and the undocumented) teased me a bit about the news of L.A. mayor Antonio Villaraigosa’s divorce and extramarital affair with a television reporter. My family knows I’ve been a big supporter of the mayor in the past, and they were interested in my current thoughts.

I’ve been a fan of Villaraigosa for many years. Over a decade ago, one of his oldest daughters was a student in my women’s history class. She was my student at the same time that Villaraigosa was making his name as a key feminist ally; as a state assemblyman in the mid-1990s, Villaraigosa sponsored the bill that legalized breast-feeding in public. Under Villaraigosa’s bill, signed by Gov. Wilson and now California law, restaurants and other businesses could not force women to leave if they began to breastfeed their children. A seemingly small bit of progress, but it mattered a lot to have a dynamic young pol like Villaraigosa shepherd the bill through the legislature. His daughter was very proud of her Dad.

It was from his daughter that I also learned years ago what most people learned far more recently: that the future mayor had been born Antonio Villar, and when he married Corina Raigosa (not the mother of my former student), they blended their names rather than hyphenate. It seemed an extraordinarily feminist act for a young man from East Los Angeles. I ws deeply impressed by what I saw — and still see — as a defiant rejection of machismo and its attendant mores. I became a big Villaraigosa fan, supporting him in his failed 2001 and successful 2005 mayoral bids. Though I haven’t lived in the city limits of Los Angeles for many years, I spend so much time in L.A. I consider myself one of his constituents.

News broke weeks ago of his separation from his wife, followed last week by revelations he had been conducting an ongoing affair with a Spanish-language television reporter (whose beat had included Los Angeles politics). The story has been all over the airwaves and the local papers this week. And though there had long been signs that Villaraigosa’s private life was, well, colorful to the point of chaotic, I’ll admit I’m still disappointed and angry.

I agree with those who say that a politician’s private betrayals do not automatically signal an inability to lead. History shows us that leaders can be unfaithful to their spouses and be deeply and profoundly loyal to their countries (or cities). Some people do manage to compartmentalize very well, even if that compartmentalization costs their families dear. I don’t have the sense that if Villaraigosa cheats on his wife, it means he will automatically cheat on Los Angeles. To suggest otherwise is cheap rhetorical theatrics.

What makes me angry about Villaraigosa is that he spent years and years positioning himself as a pro-feminist. His voting record in the state legislature established him as a devoted progressive; he didn’t merely sign on to the “right” bills, he publicly and bravely carried them. He was excoriated and ridiculed for his stance on breast-feeding, but he pushed ahead. He made a lot of enemies, and he also made a lot of friends. As a feminist professor who teaches on a plurality-Latino campus, I was excited to see a Mexican-American man, a former bad boy from the mean streets of East L.A., seem so publicly and openly committed to egalitarian principles.

You see, as a white male who grew up in Carmel, raised by liberal college professors as my parents, I’m of limited value as a role model to my Latino students. My background is fundamentally alien to most of the young men and women with whom I work at PCC. Villaraigosa grew up where they grew up, with the same values and the same cultural expectations. After a series of what we all hoped were merely youthful indiscretions, he pulled his life together, becoming a union organizer, a politician, and a pro-feminist husband. His very name symbolized that he was a kind of New Latin Man. And I’ll admit I pointed to his name, to his public support for women’s rights, and his very identity as evidence that pro-feminist principles could be publicly embraced by Latino men.

Having an extramarital affair doesn’t prove that Villaraigosa’s feminism is all a sham. He would have to be been both monstrously calculating and extraordinarily prescient to know, back when he married Corina Raigosa in the 1980s while a young labor organizer, that blending their names and building his career as a fighter for gender justice would be the key to long-term political success. I’ve only met the mayor very briefly, back when he was still in the Assembly, and I can’t pretend to know his heart (though I know many people who do claim to know him very well.) My sense is — my hope is — that Villaraigosa’s public feminist commitments are genuine and sincere, rooted in conviction rather than in expedient ambition.

But the legitimate good that he has done is tarnished now. And more troublingly, Villaraigosa’s now very public infidelities (his affar with the TV reporter is hardly the first) does huge damage to the pro-feminist movement. When a man who openly allies himself with the movement for gender justice treats the women in his private life as disposable, he sends a message that there are limits to the possibilities for male transformation. When an ostensible pro-feminist like Villaraigosa is chronicly unfaithful and develops a reputation as a reckless womanizer, he reinforces a stereotype not only for Latinos but for all men. One commentator I heard on the radio said what I know many others are thinking: “The lesson from the mayor is that, well, most men will cheat if given the chance. And if you’re in power like the mayor is, you’re going to have a lot of chances. We shouldn’t be surprised.” I winced when I heard that.

Villaraigosa campaigned for office as a progressive; he campaigned for office not merely as a Latino, but as a new kind of Hispanic politician. He campaigned on a platform of gender justice. And while he never claimed to match his public pronouncements to his private commitments, his willingness to blend his name with his wife’s sent a strong signal that that was what he intended to do. When it became painfully clear that he had repeatdly fallen short of the mark, and indeed (according to some who know him well) had a chronic problem with women, the disappointment some of us feel is genuine. And the anger is genuine as well.

Over and over again, I work to challenge what I call the “myth of male weakness.” Over and over again, I suggest that authentic male feminism lies in part in treating women in your life as equals and partners, in treating them with respect. Pro-feminist men are committed to the principle that women ought to have access to the same opportunities, the same power, as their husbands and fathers and brothers. But it’s hollow to be committed to justice in the abstract when you can’t practice it in your own home. Cheating on your spouse publicly with younger women (or women of any age, for that matter) is an act of contempt for her. It sends the message that a commitment to justice can be trumped by the hormones, or by what the mayor has the gall to call “an affair of the heart”.

In the end, those of us who are publicly committed to feminism are rightly held to a high standard. In a sense, it’s right to be more disappointed when an avowed progressive feminist man fails to practice his principles in his personal life than when, say, someone who doesn’t see women as equals falls short. Many social conservatives (not all) do believe that “men are weak”, at least weaker than women when it comes to the capacity to resist sexual temptation. Pro-feminist men need to make it clear through their private lives that male weakness is a myth, just as they make it clear in their public pronouncements that they see women as radically equal with men. So many folks out there already believe that men who espouse feminist principles are political or sexual opportunists; we’re told over and over again that our commitment to egalitarianism is a thinly disguised strategy for getting women into bed. When a man who has publicly worked for women’s equality is repeatedly unfaithful to his wife and behaves recklessly with other women, he reinforces the “wolf in sheep’s clothing” stereotype. He does tremendous damage to the movement for gender justice.

I didn’t need Antonio Villaraigosa to be my role model. My commitments to my marriage and to my feminism aren’t contingent on him or any other leader. But I know many young men and women who did look up to him, and many who saw him as modeling not just a new face for Latinos in politics, but a new kind of man. The cynicism they are experiencing now, the disillusionment they are feeling now, the renewed sense that many have that “underneath it all, all men are dogs” — all this breaks my heart. And it makes me angry, very angry, at a man I still like very much but in whom I am profoundly disappointed.

Rejecting the “he who wants less, wins” model: a reply to Bob about marriage, faith and disparate desire

I’m home from some happy family time in Northern California. Yesterday, while driving down Interstate 5 through the Central Valley, the temperature gauge in my Solara registered 113 degrees. ‘Twas a toasty day, and I did my best to expand my carbon footprint by keeping the inside of my car at a comfy 65.

A reader named “Bob” writes:

I’m wondering though what you think about the concept of sexual frequency “normalcy” in marriage or committed relationships. In other words, if one partner has a higher sex drive than the other, what are the responsibilities (if any) of one to the other?

I know how the Church generally feels about this issue. The feelings range from glorified body ownership (a wife should submit to her husband’s sexual “needs” no matter what) to lessons of “thorns in the flesh” (repressing sexual “needs” are a good sign of spiritual discipline).

But how does a feminist feel about this? What do you do (if anything should be done) about unequal libido within a committed relationship? As the partner with a higher drive in my marriage, I constantly question my desires. Am I too dependent on my wife for sexual fulfillment? Maybe I should show more restraint as an independent person and a Christ follower. Perhaps this is my thorn in my flesh, a test from God. But then the Christian ideal of marriage seems to say much of “two becoming one,” some kind of mysterious interdependence, or even a combined identity. To have two different ideals of sexual unity, or any other ideal for that matter, seems counterproductive to the married unit.

Obviously, my first recommendation to Bob and his wife is that they seek counseling. That doesn’t mean I’m pathologizing his wife’s low sex drive or Bob’s more boisterous one. I am a great believer, however, in the marvelous progress that can be made with a good marital therapist. There are increasing numbers of Christians who work as marital therapists, and they integrate spiritual and psychological insights very effectively. Most married couples could benefit from a periodic therapeutic “tune-up”, even if no burning problem seems to be presenting itself.

Too often, we do tend to over-analyze incongruent libidos. It’s a staple of pop psychology that the partner with the lower drive is “repressed” or perhaps dealing with abuse issues from his or her childhood. Similarly, we often assume that the partner with the stronger drive is emotionally needy, or someone who seeks to soothe their anxiety and stress through sexual activity rather than a more appropriate outlet. Too often, partners can get into a tail-spin; the more the one with the higher drive presses, the more the one with the lower drive resists. The one with the higher drive feels neglected, unattractive, anxiety-ridden, frustrated; the one with the lower drive feels pressured, nagged, frustrated. Most people who’ve been in long-term relationships can recognize themselves in one (or both) of those roles!

It is by no means always the case in heterosexual marriages that it is always the man with the lower sex drive. But that’s Bob’s situation, and that matches up with our stereotype, so I’ll say a little about it here. I’m not going to rehash the great and mysterious words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 7. I will note that the New International Version says:

The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband.

In the context of a chapter on marital sex, that does make clear that a married couple do have sexual obligations to each other. But it would be a huge mistake to assume that Paul means that the lower-drive partner must always acquiesce to the one who’s hornier. I like how the Message version handles this same passage:

The marriage bed must be a place of mutuality—the husband seeking to satisfy his wife, the wife seeking to satisfy her husband. Marriage is not a place to “stand up for your rights.” Marriage is a decision to serve the other, whether in bed or out.

That’s really good, especially the bit about marriage not being a place to “stand up for your rights.” The mystery lies in how we each serve the other without ever insisting on those rights. For the higher-sexed person to demand that his or her partner provide sex on some sort of a schedule is clearly not what Paul is suggesting. At the same time, each partner is called to be deeply concerned with the well-being of the other — and of the partnership itself. That concern will manifest itself in the higher-sexed partner practicing self-control, not only in terms of physical restriction but also by refraining from nagging and pestering. The higher-sexed partner can’t come from a place of entitlement.

Similarly, the spouse with the lower drive has the obligation to be alert to the various ways in which he or she can provide emotional reassurance; the spouse with the lower drive is also, I think, obligated to honestly explore whether some dynamic within the relationship is causing a lack of interest. There’s a huge difference, after all, between genuinely not being “in the mood” and withholding sex as a passive-aggressive technique to gain the upper hand in the relationship. I’ve known plenty of men and women who’ve pulled the latter trick. They know the ugly old rule most of us first learn in adolescence: “He who wants it less, wins.”

The bottom line is that the “Yes” or the “I will” of the wedding vow is not a permanent disavowal of the right to say “No” in the future. Whether we are married to our sexual partners or not, none of us has the right to demand that another human being please us. In practical terms, it’s safe to say that the greatest enemies of true eros are entitlement and expectation. Nothing is a greater turn-off than a petulant insistence that someone “owes” us an orgasm (or even a kiss).

Sex drives have a way of fluctuating over time, of course. Most of us will go through periods in our lives (or in our months) in which we are hornier than at other times. That’s true for one of us in our solitude; it’s all the more true for a couple over time. Some couples stay at the same level of frequency in terms of sex for years and years; others start off fast and furious and taper off; still others go through various fluctuations depending on any number of circumstances (ranging from children to job stress to, heck, you get the idea.) Having spent lots of time with religious and secular couples, I note that these anxieties about unequal sex drives show up equally in partnerships where the two “waited” and where they didn’t. Refraining from pre-marital sex is no guarantor of post-marital sexual bliss; by the same token, lots and lots of “experience” prior to marriage doesn’t make anyone an expert on how to have great sex for years and years after the wedding day.

So, to Bob: there’s nothing wrong with having the higher sex drive. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your wife more often than she wants you. I understand that it feels disempowering and scary to be the one who “wants it more.” But you’re not wrong for wanting what you want, and your wife is not wrong for not wanting what you want. The test of your marriage is not the equality of your passion, it’s the prayerful, courageous honesty with which you both work through this disparity together. It’s a hard thing to talk about, even with (and, I think, especially with) a spouse; our fears and resentments and anxieties can come up so quickly. But there’s no way to work through this without that kind of radical honesty, which is why having a patient therapist to facilitate is often a really good idea.

Look, I’m not quite two years into my fourth marriage, so I’m hardly a relationship guru. But I’ve been around the block a time or nineteen, and I’ve done a lot of listening and living in my time. And I know some great marriages where there isn’t a lot of sex; I’ve seen some marriages fall apart even while the spouses within them were getting it on nearly daily. This I can say based on my own experience and on that of countless friends of mine: the absence of regular sex is not an automatic indicator of trouble, and a regular and mutually enthusiastic erotic life is no prophylaxis against marital misery. What makes a healthy marriage is the way in which the two partners deal with their incongruent desires. If they each practice radical mutual submission, remembering that marriage is not a place to assert one’s rights, they’re probably well on their way.

A covenant with my eyes: some long thoughts on looking

Here’s the weird thing: the overall trend in terms of hits to this blog is upwards, though it’s been fairly flat these past ten days. On the other hand, the overall trend in terms of number of comments is down slightly, even as the number of visitors rise. But what’s really going way up is the number of emails I’m getting from folks asking questions about various aspects of what I’ve posted about. Requests for advice have jumped from about one a week to about three a day, which still puts me way below an “Ask Amy” but does make me wonder about this shift.

“Marian” writes a long note about her husband’s habit of staring at one particular type of much younger woman:

From the beginning, my husband has had the dreadfulL penchant of ogling a very specific type woman: young, blonde and petite. Shall I describe myself? 5′10″, dark brown hair and eyes, and as I mentioned, 47. When I say ogling, I mean ogling to an extent I have never encountered. For instance… there is a blonde, young attractive woman at the church we attend and for quite some time he would sit the whole service and stare over at her. He began making a point to attend that particular service, although he knows I prefer to go to a later one. I remember one service where he missed a congregational response because he was so engrossed in looking at her. When I confronted him about this he finally did admit that he thought she was pretty, and I asked him why that would cause him to stare incessantly at her. His reply, and I quote, “it’s like having a beautiful bouquet in front of you. You don’t want to just glance at it, you want to savor it.”

Again, my question is, why would any 50 year old, happily married man, feel a compulsion to stare obsessively at ONLY young, blonde women? He does not look at attractive women our age, nor does he look at young, pretty brunettes. He has admitted that is the “type” he is attracted to. Let me state I am in fairly good shape for a woman of my age, I’m quite eclectic and tend to wear trendy clothing and jewelry, and when I dress to the nines for an evening out on the town I get enough comments from friends, including men friends, that I know I am not exactly a troll.

I am not asking what I should do to solve the problem, that will be up to me. I am merely wanting to know your opinion about why he would continue to do this.

Marian and her husband have apparently seen a counselor, and m