I Want More for Women, Not Less

The sexual revolution is a challenge we can navigate

Wherein Bing Copilot AI exceeds my expectations

“The sexual revolution was a mistake.” This refrain, inspired by Louise Perry's book on the subject, Mary Harrington's similar take, and a resurgent “trad” movement that denounces casual sex and encourages motherhood, is becoming more and more common. Some variation of this concern has come up in response to several of my recent articles.

I want to tease out what is meant by this sentiment. The widespread availability of “the pill” is typically recognized as the era's major contribution. But I've yet to meet a sexual revolution critic who regrets the advent of birth control. Most openly defend it; others, judging by their small family size, have enjoyed its benefits. No, what seems to be concerning are the “attitudes” wrought by (or characterizing?) the sexual revolution, and the effect of those attitudes on women.

Let's consider those attitudes and effects, putting aside for a moment the unlikely scenario critics seem to demand: a world in which the pill was invented, then somehow benefited only married traditionalists while failing to expand the sexual possibilities available to others.

Among the attitudes of concern is the acceptance of casual sex, presumably craved by men and foisted upon women. Among the effects is women's resignation to unwanted or coerced sex, presumably because we can defend our sexual boundaries only by invoking the specter of pregnancy.

Ask yourself: Why is that? What stops women from successfully defending their sexual boundaries?

It could be argued that women, rather than finding themselves bereft of argument in the presence of the pill, have become confused by the post-Kennedy era, incorrectly surmising that promiscuity is fun, and have participated willingly but to their detriment. In other words, they don't yet know their sexual boundaries in order to defend them.

So we're left with two rather patronizing images of women: those who won't defend what they want, and those who can't figure out what they want.

Before I go further, let me concede that these images of women, however unflattering, are often true. Few women fully take ownership of themselves, especially sexually, and this is a result of many things: learned helplessness, shame, sexual trauma, financial dependence, and yes, a history of oppression, though that's far enough removed that our current situation is largely self-inflicted.

Nonetheless, the solution is not to shield women from libertine attitudes, persuasive suitors, or convenient birth control, but to empower them to navigate these situations.

There's a saying: prepare the child for the road, not the road for the child. And what's appropriate for children is past due for adults. I want space for women to learn what they want, sexually and otherwise, and I wish them the courage to defend those desires. I want confidence for women, and competence, and healing, and opportunity, and prosperity, and freedom from constraints that hinder the pursuit of these.

And you know what helps foster all of that? The sexual and reproductive choices made possible by the sexual revolution.

Women who support themselves financially, and who learn to do so early, are better positioned to say “no” to men's shenanigans. Women are currently more likely to live in poverty, and this is often exacerbated by their choices. Many prioritize finding a man and/or having children before (or instead of) acquiring marketable skills. Others sideline their careers for their husbands', turning down opportunities or moving house in the interest of his upward mobility but seldom hers. When abused, cheated on, or pressured for sex, the woman who can't care for herself doesn’t extract herself.

Birth control makes it possible to postpone the entanglements with men and children that interfere with earning potential. Non-marital opportunities to satiate arousal while achieving solvency are similarly useful. Both were brought to you by the sexual revolution. And if women want news outlets to start platforming our cultural critiques and promoting our interests, we could do worse than building or buying them with our own funds.

Of course, gaining financial power is only half the battle. Women do not own themselves sexually, either. They do not learn what makes them orgasm, often because of shame. They do not insist on partners who are interested in facilitating their orgasms. From what I've heard on countless occasions, they give blow jobs to men they don't want to have sex with, to “make them go away” after a mediocre date. This is the opposite of what sexual behavior is for. But women's self-sabotage is well known; it is central to the critique in question.

The sexual revolution is often characterized as everyone doing whatever makes them feel good, consequences be damned. But as we have seen, women still aren't doing what makes them feel good. Where they once capitulated to husbands, they now capitulate to boyfriends. The spouse who can’t find the clitoris has been replaced by the Tinder date who won’t even look.

Wouldn't it be better if women exercised their sexual freedom, instead of losing it or fearing it? What would that world look like? After all, sex is one of life's great joys, and women who don't say “no” when they want to don't say “yes” when they want to, either. The opportunity to change this lies not in the chains of the dark ages, but in the liberation of the Enlightenment.

The fact is that liberalism, of which the sexual revolution is a part, allows one woman to enjoy prolonged virginity, marriage, and childrearing while allowing another to explore her sexuality with friends and lovers before she's ready to settle down. The same cannot be said of life before the sexual revolution.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the women's movement was never meant to prescribe a lifestyle, libertine or otherwise, for women. It was meant to remove obstacles for women so we can pursue what we find meaningful.

Which brings us back to attitudes. For all the talk of coercive men and unwilling women, I count myself among those with more permissive attitudes toward sex. I hold them sincerely, not as a result of social pressure—and in fact, I hold that they benefit women. Is it fair to ask people not to have the attitudes they have? Is it fair to ask them not to speak about their attitudes?

Nothing is to be gained by such a project. Instead, proponents of traditional values must examine why they're losing in the marketplace of ideas. If chastity or early marriage or vanilla sex is valuable, what's stopping women from seeing its value?

The critics who have visited my substack speak of “hookup culture,” of “[going] home with” people you can't “trust” (before kissing, at that), and of sex as “meaningless recreation.” Perhaps it is this two-dimensional view of others' sex lives that leaves traditionalists unable to fathom their meaning.

I am deeply fond of those with whom I’ve shared the sacred experience of physical intimacy. They earned my engagement by attentively kindling my desire in the context of trust. We came together following long, playful, frank and explicit conversations about desires and expectations. We were friends or we became friends. My body is a temple; I do not give it away. I share it—and only when the sharing is reciprocal. I have never used it to get someone, keep someone, or make someone “go away.” I have never deployed it in the service of the culture's aims instead of my own.

I was not cut out for commitment or motherhood. It would have been immoral for me to waste some poor sap's time marrying not for love, but on the hope that following tradition would confer the necessary personal development to render me loyal. It would have been even more immoral for me to have children I could not center and would resent.

Fire is my element; I hail the guardians of the watchtowers of the south. For better or worse, I’ve always lived with an excess of passion, for work and for play. I needed to navigate a strong libido in my youth, and I’m gratified by the choices I made. Other women need not take my path, but neither should they take yours. They must take their own. Luckily for all of us, the sexual revolution has made that possible.