What's the Big Fucking Deal?

It will become obvious in a few sentences that the title of this post is wordplay to a fault, but let's forgive the ribaldry and punnification for just a moment.

As a writer and reader, I find myself surfing a limited number of blogs on a regular basis -- some because they're well written, some because I know the author, and some for no apparent reason other than the curiosity afforded by the often-frightening anonymity the Internet provides to satiate our voyeuristic tendencies. During one of these ventures (inspired, in the interest of full disclosure, by that final motivation), I ran into this link, and it has set my bullshit meter flying.

The author of the post in which I found this link, the moderator of a coaster enthusiast website I frequent, made haste to dispute the validity of a program like this on purely economic terms, and he's pretty much exactly right. If the research shows that there's no link between the existence of abstinence-only sex education programs and abstinence itself, then a closed-minded continuation of such a program is a waste of taxpayer money. As a taxpayer, I'm insulted.

But as a human being, and a relatively open-minded one at that, I'm even more insulted. The implication inherent in programs like these is twofold: firstly, that complex issues with multiple viewpoints and perspectives can be unquestioningly reduced to a simple case of black versus white; and secondly, that within that oversimplified binary, one of the two choices can be, also unquestioningly, reduced to being "right" while the other is "wrong."

There are more things wrong with this kind of thinking than I could ever dare to tackle in one sitting at my computer. Let's consider for one moment the danger and hypocrisy of what happens when the moral imperative of the government is presumed to be the ethical standard against which all citizens are judged. We criticize the hell out of Middle Eastern governments, claiming that they're too swayed by their ideologies, but our own government tells us that if we fuck before we're married, we're somehow second-class citizens. Is that any better than the Iranian government condoning and sanctioning the assassination of Salman Rushdie because his novels offended the sensibilities of Islam? Is the call to arms to kill any less unethical than the call to keep it in our pants until we're wedded? Maybe the comparison isn't quite apples to apples, but in both cases a government is latching itself inexorably to a certain moral ideal and basing its decisions and its funding on the supposed need to edify those who refuse to go along with that ideal. How is that not akin to brainwashing?

I for one refuse to believe that not abstaining from premarital sex makes me any less of a flag-waving, freedom-loving citizen than the virgin next door. There is no education going on here, just mindless proselytizing. Facts are replaced with opinions, the moral weight of which is expected to guilt "offenders" into unflinchingly switching gears and joining the cause. And because our government is behind it -- specifically, an administration that has made its name by disguising the rhetoric of fear, control, and manipulation beneath the veil of patriotism -- people stand behind it and don't question it, don't get pissed off about it enough for anything to change. The research has shown that this is not the status quo, so where are the actual facts that could and should be delivered to that populace? Why is the preferred nomenclature that of condemnation instead of education?

(That's a question we should be asking of all of our government's decisions, particularly those that restrict the freedoms our founding fathers fought and died for: "Those who would give up ESSENTIAL LIBERTY to purchase a little TEMPORARY SAFETY deserve neither LIBERTY nor SAFETY." --Benjamin Franklin)

But I think, despite some of the political posturing I just excised from my system, that there's something even more disturbing at play here. Anyone who's tapped into the cultural machine of American life -- and really, can any of us fully escape from it? -- understands that while we sit in health classes and proclaim the evils of sex, we walk outside the school to find a gorgeous, buxom woman bikini-clad on a billboard urging us to purchase, for instance, a certain brand cologne. The psychology at work here is fairly transparent: the ad responds to our primal sexualities and suggests that the scantily-clad hotties of the world will find us infinitely more desirable if we are caught with the eau du Yves St. Laurent emanating from our persons. Frankly, this isn't such a bad thing. Sex sells. What's bad is the diametrically opposed messages we're receiving from the media and government, one of which is urging us to indulge our sexual impulses while the other mandates that we should suppress them until we've satisfied some other artificial social construct that "defines" our apparent readiness to participate.

Basically, it's all bullshit. Much like the ruling parties of our national and local governments have become outrageously polarized in the last few years, so too are our views of sexuality. There is no middle ground between Hollywood hedonism and all-American abstinence. And the polarization between the radical left and the radical right -- because at this stage in the game, only the radical voices are heard on Capitol Hill, a terrifying concept in its own right -- ensures that the sexual polarization of our country will remain intact: speak of the need for sexual education and abstinence critics will contend that it equates to silent consent of premarital sex, and vice versa. We're caught in a land of dialectics, and there's little conceivable room for a happy medium.

I'm scared for what this may imply, and even more frightened by the fact that I've seen some of my own fears already palpably present in my classes. During a conversation with my freshmen students, I tried to coax out of them that a certain ad (appropriately, for Yves St. Laurent perfume) was appealing to its audience by selling sex. No one wanted to say it, as if it was a dirty word. So I wrote in three huge capital letters that covered half the board. And still, no one wanted to even mention it besides me. In another class, this one a seminar filled with graduate students, one fellow colleague cringes at almost every suggestion of even the most benign sexuality in the texts we read. What is it about sex that has become so frightening, so cringe-worthy, as to elicit "eww"s and "gross"es from twentysomething grad students that already hold collegiate degrees? Are we really that naïve, or simply uneducated.

I fear, as I've said all along, that it's both. I see no reason why sexuality, which is a natural and normal part of human nature, is something that can't be openly and freely discussed -- even if that means speaking at the most clinical level in order to make the conversation as accessible as possible. I'm not expecting everyone to be as comfortable with dicks, pussies, and fucking as I am, but I don't think it's expecting too much to be able to discuss penises, vaginas, and intercourse if the topic needs to be discussed. Sure, there are certain sexual taboos that should probably be followed in the interest of civility and decorum, but that sex itself has become a self-serving taboo sets an unfortunate and uncomfortable precedent.

We don't need ads and programs telling kids to keep their pants zipped until the reception's over. We need people who aren't afraid to tell them why -- in practical, not moral, terms -- they should consider abstinence, and what avenues are available to them if they opt not to. They're not second-class citizens, and they shouldn't be treated like they are. But they should be allowed every opportunity possible to make an enlightened and informed decision about sex, and the neo-Puritanism that has overtaken our sensibilities at the sight of an errant bare breast is stifling every opportunity we have to make those conversations happen.

And that's more than insulting. It's downright dangerous.