Archive for the 'Sex Week 2008' Category

Poor unfortunate souls: Sex Week organizers face moral choices?

Nicola and I aren’t actually joined at the hip, so I’m hoping that we don’t make a habit of attending events together and then both blogging our responses here.

Yet we did double-team when telling the Sex Week organizers exactly what we thought of their woman-as-commodity fest. To their credit, they did organize a “feedback” session at which all were welcome to come and raise concerns about Sex Week - only to then appear shocked when we criticized “without knowing what goes on behind the scenes”. Apparently basic logic did not feature in the plan.

The point that most succinctly summarizes the boundless pool of criticisms I have of “Sex Week” (The Joy of) is demonstrated by the fact that at a scheduled screening of pornography, when porn director Paul Thomas finished showing his “cheerleading porn” videos and moved onto some more violent depictions of sadism, the organizers leapt up in the middle of the hall, burning with righteous anger, and ordered the guest to turn off the entire spectacle. “We really dropped the ball on this one,” says one organizer, apologizing for the screening, who later objected to the sadistic screening on the grounds that it was “sexually unhealthy and disrespectful to women”.

So there are some types of porn which are demeaning to women, we are told. Therefore, Sex Week organizers censor them. If so, then one would infer that the other images are not demeaning! Censoring some images of sex implies an endorsement of others. Yet at the feedback session, the organizers of Sex Week insisted that they weren’t endorsing any particular practice, just bringing everything to the surface so that we can discuss it in a neutral environment. (Giving away free porn DVDs doesn’t count as endorsing porn, apparently).

My question is as follows: there are two types of Sex Week one can plan to organize. In the first, no particular perspective is endorsed, no depiction of sexuality is privileged above another, as much as can be reasonably given space in the time frame, and therefore the value judgments of the organizers do not provide a imposition of community mores. In the second, the organizers present particular perspectives on sexuality as worthy of acknowledgment, or “healthy”, and censor images which they consider demeaning. For which version were the organizers aiming?

The response to my question: “you have to understand that this is really emotional for us. It was really hard to make decisions.” No really? Dealing with issues of sexuality is emotional? Assuming positions of leadership and responsibility on campus is emotional? You really do learn something new at this university everyday.

Sado-masochism is a common expression of human sexuality. The urges to exercise or yield power, to escape or assume the pressures of being in charge, or to make intimacy with a lover a reassurance of be love even when confessing the darkest things about us, stem from the significance to all of us of natural power dynamics that do not have to be gendered. That it frequently is channeled into unsophisticated porn products in which dominance is always directed along gender lines, with all the one-size-fits-all tackiness of the mass market, should not be used as a reason to deny its existence.

What is most demeaning to women is the casual orthodoxy affirmed throughout Sex Week and throughout the mainstream media that in “healthy” sex, a woman is still an object whose job is to make herself as conducive to male pleasure as possible - when a man only has to make sure he enjoys himself. “Cheerleading porn”, which the organizers think is an acceptable contrast to sado-masochistic porn, suggests that woman’s role is to appear immature and innocently vulnerable, anxious to look sexy for her man. The very posters used to plaster advertising for Sex Week all over campus - the first thing confronting me when I open my front door in the morning, the standard representation of “Sex” that I had to walk past everyday, was that of a naked, nubile woman, leaning back in the most receptive position imaginable. So much for “a mature and broad range of perspectives on the significance of sex”.

Liveblogging the Sex Week Open Forum & Feedback Session

Shorter me: Porn stars? Really?

Shorter Sex Week Team: Criticism hurts our feelings.

Actual quotes:

“[This has been] mentally, and physically, and emotionally challenging for all of us.”

“Fox News was very unsensitive to the people planning it, and the event itself.”

“Part of Sex Week is to get a heavy attendance at events.”

“This is school. It’s an education. It’s what Yale’s about.”

“It’s supposed to be a discussion. That’s what it’s about. That’s why we’re here.”

“Everything about Sex Week has been marketed as a discussion.”

Actual content and/or analysis coming soon.

BEST QUOTE:

This is a matter of taking time to be more clever and thoughtful about it.

No, really?

Today, I offend Sex Week right back.

This afternoon was the Sex & Spirituality panel discussion, with Dawn Eden, Judy “I Could Have Tantric Sex With Anyone In This Front Row And It Would Be Just As Deeply Meaningful” Kuriansky, Susan “Jewish Pagan Ethical Hedonist Bonobo” Block [NSFW], and Stevie “Don’t Say On Your Website That I’m Gay” Jay. There was another woman, whose name I have written down as Jane Bernard, but Google is unhelpful in finding a link for her. (EDIT: Dawn is more competent than I; Jane Bernard’s website is here.) I am endlessly amused by the fact that, to Yale (or at least the Sex Week coordinators — Dara keeps reminding me that it is not, in fact, a University-run event), “spirituality” means four New Agers and a Catholic.

Apparently, “spirituality” also means a great deal of attention paid to chakras and tantric sex (Kuriansky), “deeply meaningful” moments of true soul-to-soul connection with much-younger men one never sees again (Jay), love-ins (Bernard), and giving away Lust et Veritas g-strings (Block), with a token actually religious person to serve as brunt for random ad hominem attacks. (Least objectionable comment about Christianity from Dr. Block: “I find Jesus on the cross to be incredibly erotic, half-naked as he is.” Come on — he’s suffering for your sins, because he loves you, and his shirtless torso is the best part?) It was rather jarring to go from a brief characterization of Catholic sex ethics to an enthusiastic description of the “cosmic” experience that is tantric sex. Apparently, it’s all about breathing.

I spent thirteen years at Quaker school, where chakras and namastes featured much more heavily than papal encyclicals, so I was much more eager to hear about religious takes on romance and sexual ethics. Unfortunately, Sex & Spirituality wasn’t about the spiritual consequences of sex, or the ways in which one’s religious or spiritual beliefs play into sexual behavior or our (in my opinion, deeply disturbed) sex culture — except for the few times Dawn Eden managed to get a word in, the discussion was about how having sex (apparently it doesn’t matter with whom, as long as you’re breathing right) can bring you closer to God.

And then it was time for questions.

More…

In Which A Curmudgeonly Victorian Is Invoked

Victoria Wild in the YDN:

[Sex Week's] advertising does not attempt convey a message (other than times and locations); we leave the message to the presenters.

Laying aside, for the moment, the idiotic claim that advertising does not convey a message, and focusing only on the second half of this ridiculous sentence… Leaving the message to the presenters is the problem.

Pluralism for the sake of pluralism is nonsense. There may well be more than one right way of doing things (I’m looking forward to Sunday’s Sex & Spirituality panel), but there are also wrong ways.

‘May not every man in England say what he likes?’ — Mr Roebuck perpetually asks; and that, he thinks, is quite sufficient, and when every man may say what he likes, our aspirations ought to be satisfied. But the aspirations of culture, which is the study of perfection, are not satisfied, unless what men say, when they may say what they like, is worth saying, — has good in it, and more good than bad. (Matthew Arnold, 1869)

Do any of these planners actually think that pornographers are the people to consult about a healthy cultural attitude towards sex? Do any of them think that looking like a porn star is the key to love and intimacy? Do they really think that screening pornographic films — notable for the objectification of bodies, particularly women’s, and the decoupling of the sex act from emotion — will help anyone “get beyond the awkwardness, the discomfort, and the taboo” that pornography has produced? Do none of them see a problem with porn culture?

Maybe they’re only interested in titillation and giving the student body what it wants. Weakness is, if not exactly excusable, then at least understandable. But if this is only a manifestation liberal idea that we ought to be exposed to everything because we can, by ourselves, come up with the right answer — if it’s about “empowering” women by showing us that we get to participate in our very own degradation — if it’s really about letting pornographers get their message across…

I may have to go for that taser after all.

“Come for the porn stars, stay for the safe sex tips” is not a viable strategy.

Yesterday’s snow was lovely, except for when it got in my shoes. (I hope I learn that high heels and snowy sidewalks do not mix before I lose a toe.) Unfortunately, it’s warmed up enough that swirling snowflakes have turned to nearly-horizontal rain, and my dinky drugstore umbrella has all but given up the ghost.

I managed to sleep through lunch in my college, as is my wont, but I was hungry enough to make the trek across campus to Commons. I don’t go there often, but when I do the façade of Woolsey Hall always stands out to me beside Beinecke’s “powerful stone geometry…amidst neo-Classical and neo-Gothic neighbors” (and this is a good thing, Yale?[1]).

There I was, sheltering under the library overhang and feeling very sorry for myself because I was cold and wet from a three block walk and a substandard umbrella, and there was the cenotaph “In Memory of THE MEN of Yale who, true to Her Traditions gave THEIR LIVES that FREEDOM might not perish from the Earth.” They were cold and wet, too, and for much longer than the my lunchtime break from a warm bed and dry pajamas. I’ll take rainy New Haven over Flemish mud any day, and I’m sure they would have too, but being a Yale Man meant something in ninety years ago. The University taught its students to be adults. It doesn’t do that any more.

Dara criticized me last night for knocking Sex Week without going to any of the events, and I agreed that she had a point. She still does, I suppose — Sex Week is not, of itself, the Downfall Of The West. It’s a symptom, not the cause. Rather than teaching us what we should want, the University has reverted to giving us what we do want — which is apparently “intimacy-enhancing products,” screenings of pornography, and talks from VH1 pick-up artists. We don’t need Yale to give us titillation: we get that from television and magazines and the internets. Anyone who wants information about “intimacy-enhancing products” or the Vivid Girls can do his own damn Google search.

I don’t need to go to Ron Jeremy’s booksigning (title — I am not making this up: The Hardest (Working) Man in Showbiz) to say that it’s unworthy of Yale. I don’t need to go to talks with porn stars to say that not only should they not be keynote speakers at this university, they probably shouldn’t even be employed.

So, yes. Maybe I’m painting Sex Week with too broad a brush. There are some worthwhile events. But what do you want to bet they’re a lot less popular than the porn screenings? We need the boring, vanilla stuff — don’t get drunk with strangers, don’t have meaningless sex, and when you do have sex make sure to do it safely — not “The Who Looks Most Like a Vivid Girl” contest. The risqué elements aren’t going to keep anyone around for the important stuff.

[1] Criticisms of my architectural tastes may be directed to the Department of Aesthetics. Response expected in six to eight weeks.

If all the young ladies who attended the Yale prom were laid end to end, no one would be the least surprised.

Things I never expected to hear in the dining hall: “The female orgasm will be today at four o’clock.”

Sex Week is an interdisciplinary sex education program designed to pique students’ interest through creative, interactive, and exciting programming.

No. No, it’s really not.

I am all in favor of sex education. College students knowing how to avoid pregnancy and STDs is a wonderful thing. (Nothing, I’m afraid, will ever rid the human race of the awkwardness that accompanies sex, and I’m not sure I’d be in favor if it could. There’s something to be said for a little endearing fumbling — provided you eventually figure things out.)

But the problem with Sex Week (okay, one of the problems with Sex Week) is this: It’s not about safe sex. It’s not even about — God forbid! — virtuous sex. It is, very fundamentally, about the glorification of an emotionally vacant culture which emphasizes body over mind, carnality over romance, and objectification over any kind of true connection.

The feminist objection to Yale’s hookup culture is that it lends itself to the dehumanization of women. This is true but vacuous. Hookup culture leads to the dehumanization of the human, to the separation between love and sex, to the idea that the most intimate things we do with our bodies are no more meaningful than scratching an itch. But can we undo it?

Will quotes the bit of Burke that I was planning to:

“All the decent drapery of life is to be rudely torn off. All the super-added ideas, furnished from the wardrobe of a moral imagination, which the heart owns and the understanding ratifies as necessary to cover the defects of our naked, shivering nature…”

We may sit here all we like and implore Sex Week and porn culture to let us put her clothes back on — but even if we succeed, the damage has been done. She has been stripped bare in the public square and exposed to the stares of the mob. Life requires pleasant lies. She may be but a woman, and as a woman but an animal, and yet to treat her as one is the height of vulgarity.

Like a woman, life has her powders and paints to hide blemishes in public. With her lover she can be plain and still found beautiful, but no true gentleman would want the world to see his lover as he does. To be a conservative, I think, is to recognize the necessity of pleasant lies: not to mislead us, but to make us love before we understand.