Men in feminism and sexual discourse
In my mind, feminism has always been about the experience of women in this patriarchal world. Recently, I started doubting this notion. For me, the male experience is paramount for understanding the female experience, and for an equal conversation between the sexes.
A week ago, I was in a consent workshop. Of the 16 participants, 13 were women. The group was asked whether expectations for sexual interactions differed based on gender and sexuality. The women in the workshop took it in turns to tell about their experiences. As a man, I didn’t want to take up space in a subject that for many women is painful. But the facilitator, a friend of mine (all of the male participants were friends of hers), looked at me to speak. So I said, “as a heterosexual man, everyone always expects me to want to have sex.” Although I thought this was common knowledge, my comment was received with surprise.
The stereotype of men as ‘sex animals’, always wanting sex, is deeply rooted in our society. It’s believed that men will go for any opportunity of having sex with someone that physically attracts us. It’s even believed that men sometimes want sex with people that don’t attract us. I don’t, and I believe very few men actually want that.
The ‘man-as-sex-animal’ stereotype is built on the idea that men have a much higher sex drive. Traditional academic studies using surveys have suggested that men’s sex drive is higher than that of women. However, these studies have often been criticized because societal stereotypes could be causing bias in such surveys. For example, research shows men feel more free to speak about sex than women. To mitigate this bias, sex drive has been examined by looking at the blood flow to participants’ genitals to measure arousal. This way, the brain cannot intervene and filter out arousal, thus giving an unbiased picture of sex drive. These studies suggest women and men have a similar sex drive. Unfortunately, these are studies that don’t reach the larger public.
As a man, I have had numerous encounters in which I had sex without wanting to.
I, as a man, sometimes don’t want sex. This even happens when an attractive partner is present. As a man, I have had numerous encounters in which I had sex without wanting to. For example, after a first date, I would enjoy going home together with the other person without it being driven by the desire for sex. Saying that I would like to sleep in the same bed, but not want sex, is often seen as a way of getting the other person to have sex anyways. If we would share a bed, sex would sometimes happen on the other’s initiative. Sometimes, this would be without me wanting it, but I wouldn’t know how to say “no”. Afterwards, I would even be mocked because I had said “I didn’t want sex”.
The stereotype of men always wanting sex can harm men in various ways. For example: our sex is reduced to a physical connection, although we might long for emotional, spiritual and intellectual connection as well; we don’t learn how to say “no” to sex – nor “yes”, for that matter – as one can only say “yes” with the possibility of a “no”; our interest in women is reduced to physical interest, which blocks meaningful relationships with women outside of sex partners; we feel pressure to have sex regularly to be deemed real men; and us not wanting sex with our partners is received as rejection.
Although this stereotype harms men first, it indirectly harms women too - often to an even greater extent. For instance: society tells men that they have the right to have sex, sometimes forcing it upon partners or strangers; survivors of sexual violence and harassment, often women, are ‘victim blamed’ because men are deemed not to have control over their sex; women feeling a lack of intimacy with men; women feeling rejection and insecurity when men do not want sex; objectivization of women; and so on.
At the consent workshop that I attended, the women were involved and aware of gender structures, and probably also aware of the ‘man-as-sex-animal’ stereotype. However, they were surprised by me expressing my struggle with this stereotype. Although theoretically they were aware, practically they hadn’t realized its impact.
I see the negligence of male struggle under patriarchy more regularly. Some time ago, a friend of mine, who considers herself a feminist, recounted an experience with a guy that had ended in disappointment for her. After having spent an evening together, he had told her he wanted to sleep alone. When recollecting the night she explained that it had probably been an excuse to hide problems getting an erection when drunk or anxiety. My question “or maybe he just wanted to sleep?” offended her. She couldn’t believe that he had possibly just been honest in expressing his desire to sleep.
Two key fighting points of feminism is the invisibility of women as anything but sex objects, and the greater space that men occupy in the world. However, male experience is underrepresented in feminist discourse. Here, I am conflicted. Feminism discourse has been hijacked by men before, so men taking up space to further female emancipation seems a paradox. Should men speak up more about their struggle, and, as such, take up more space in feminism? Bell hooks wrote: “It’s not true that men are unwilling to change. It’s true that many men are afraid to change.” Should there be space in feminist discourse for those fears and struggles of men?