I think the problem is that EVERYONE is by their own lights sex-positive. The Catholic church for instance, elevates sex to the status of mystery and gift from god; only, it has to be heterosexual, in the context of marriage, and for the purpose of procreation. And of course that masks the same old sub-text: sex is to be hated, feared, stigmatized, and be made an object of shame. I think that you can find the same kind of celebration/fear in sections of pretty much every movement or organization, including feminism, socialism, etc..

I always took sex-positive to mean a rejection of hatred, fear, stigma, and shame in connection with sex. As such, it is a profoundly feminist issue (not the only one, and not one that informs everything else, see, lots off commas), as the fear and shame around female sexuality is pervasive and toxic. But it also warps and damages men.

I consider myself to be a feminist, without shame or qualifier, and I also consider myself to be sex-positive. I agree that there is a great deal of division and conflict and smearing and so-on, within both those comma-separated clauses. For example, I really do think that the next wave of feminism, whatever that is, really has to be about men, amongst of course other things. Which is going to be really tough, and is going to have to take some real listening, and empowering men to speak up in an area where, just like women, they have been told and told and told, and very much discouraged from thinking and talking, and controlled and suppressed by shame and cultural expectations. Take it from a man.

Thank you so much for this essay, I have read it three times now, and will again as soon as I post this.

By “the ok forms of sex don’t make up for the social harm of what they see as bad,” do you mean that the average radical feminist would declare “the ok forms of sex” to be verboten because sex generally is bad (which is unlikely) or that the average radical feminist would tell you that a ton of people having good sex doesn’t make it fine and dandy for there to be sexual activity in the world that is harmful, exploitive, or worse? Because that’s true, but it’s also pretty much universal — I’ve only encountered one or two “sex-positive feminists” who ever said or implied that rape isn’t a big deal, or isn’t worth discussing, because sex can be so great.

While I take your point about the divide and conquer approach patriarchy takes to feminism, I’m not convinced that the labels have to represent a fence dividing two extreme camps. Take this example: if someone opposes the use of most mind altering drugs in most circumstances it is reasonable to label them anti-drug. They quite likely would use that label themselves. The fact that they might see some rare exceptions doesn’t mean the label has no meaning, let alone being destructive.

So if someone takes the position that all heterosexual sex, and an awful lot of lesbian sex, is oppressive it doesn’t seem unreasonable to say that person is sex-negative, particularly if they think that the ok forms of sex don’t make up for the social harm of what they see as bad. Likewise, I don’t know anyone who thinks being “sex-positive” means you have to be positive about all forms of sex.

The terms indicate to me a tendency, a shorthand for saying “I’m more sex positive than society in general, because I think that most forms of sexuality are to be encouraged, but I retain the right to criticize those I don’t like”. So if someone says they’re a sex-positive feminist all that says to me is that they are more likely to endorse and support more forms of sexual activity than some sort of average or midpoint of the feminist movement.

Progressive movements have a terrible tendency to turn on themselves, Life of Brian-like. However, I’m not convinced this is all the fault of the labels, which can I think speed up conversation both for good and ill.

I’ve been contemplating a post on this very topic. Now I’ll just link.

Like Sarah, my acceptance of the term sex-positive wasn’t initially linked to my acceptance of the label “feminist” for myself. My feminism and my sex-positivity both came to me as personal, pollitical statements, and rejections of the culture of self-hatred that I’d grown up with (sorry, mom and dad. I know you didn’t mean for that to happen. I don’t think it’s your fault, either.) For me, sex-positivity was about taking the shame out of sex and sexuality, and it was a radical stance, and one that I still embrace with passion and ferocity.

My feminism also took the form of a radical rejection of the assumptions that shaped my childhood and adolescense: Gender is a construct, not an imperative. Therefore if we want to change women’s roles, we need to address the outmoded and false gender binary. It seemed so simple, so straightforward, so seamless, in my head and heart.

So the blowjob wars, the porn wars, the sexuality wars, came as a bit of a blow. What? I couldn’t be sex-positive and feminist? The huh? My hard-won acceptance of my sexuality, my sensuality, my liking for many things sexual were, somehow, ideologically suspect? Oh noes!

This was complicated by the work I was doing, preparing chapters on sexuality and human reproduction in our health textbook—I was fighting tooth and nail to create a resource that presented sexuality as a positive thing, that divorced sex from shame, that encouraged students to look at the influences on their thinking about sex, media messages, and the confused societal messages about sex, adolescence, sexuality, and virginity, as well as presenting necessary information on safer sex, STIs, pregnancy prevention, and sexual health all the while thinking “How can this not be a feminist fight?”

Answer: it is. Sex-positive means something different in sexuality education than in feminist discourse, apparently, and I am going to embrace the moniker, and my radical feminism, and use lots of commas.

So thanks.

I tend to identify as “sex-negative” with my tongue in my cheek. My views are actually not that far over the imaginary line dividing radfems from sex-positives, but the implied binary irritates me.

What amazes me is that there is potential for (and actual) bullying, name-calling, unwarranted and cruel personal judgment, on both “sides,” but I have repeatedly read from self-described “sex-positive feminists” that “sex-positive” means “never coercive, silencing, or judgmental.” (Radfems at least know that they judge and criticize, even if they/we don’t see the full implications of that in every circumstance.) This may be true of sex-positive health care, sex-positive sex ed — but NOT of “sex-positiveness” as a political agenda, or a personal identification; not of many actual women who identify as “sex-positive feminists”; not of many MEN who identify as “sex-positive feminists” (and oh, my, I DO have to question that one, particularly when said men are straight, conventionally masculine male-born men, claiming that they are being sexually oppressed by…me).

Having read more “sex-positive” writing lately, I’ve come to realise that there is a lot more common ground than I thought there was; but it’s difficult to be subjected to mud-slinging, and even more difficult to stop slinging mud back. It’s an ongoing struggle, but yes, a crucial part of being a feminist; I would like to be better at it.

I think I mainly have two responses, besides the “hooray, i like this post you rock ok thanks!”

1. Most of my experience with the sex-positive label is independent from feminism. I mostly see people slap it in as an item with commas. (This group is feminist and sex-positive. That event is sex-positive and pro-choice.) Consequently, I mostly think of sex-positive perspectives as a separate tool in the toolbox, almost like an independent-but-interrelated movement that asserts the value of sexuality the way that feminism asserts the value of women. (And then, just like the opposite of feminism could be sexist oppression, the opposite of sex-positivity that I usually think of is sexual conservatism or erotophobia.) So thanks for this. I have thinking to do. You make good points.

2. I have been thinking a lot lately about the relationship of anger to isolation. A lot of politicized people have rage. A lot of the time that is seen as healthy and important. A lot of times it is also a motivation to disconnect from particular people, and increase isolation. I have a lot of feelings about anger as a source of suffering, and I often align with the perspective that the solution to anger is compassion and love– the same love and trust that I think you’re talking about. It isn’t just competition and hostile habits that can get in the way of that, I think. It can also be that good old feminist rage.