What makes sex desirable? Aren’t there lots of risks and downsides? Unless you’re trying to reproduce, why have sex at all?
Maybe you’ve considered these questions, or maybe they seem silly to you. Perhaps they seem silly because your social norms and your experience are shaped by sexual attraction, i.e., a particular desire to have sex with a certain other person. If sexual attraction justifies having sex, then the questions above either don’t arise or they’re rather weak.
But people like me who are asexual or ace (the A in LGBTQIA) don’t experience sexual attraction in this sense. Some ace folks have sex and some don’t, but what’s common to ace folks’ sexual decision-making is that it doesn’t rely on sexual attraction. As Angela Chen discusses in her book Ace, ace folks’ experiences raise an important question for everyone: what role should sexual attraction play in sexual decision-making? Chen suggests that those who do experience sexual attraction should be wary of relying on it much in their decision-making. If that’s right, then ace perspectives can point the way toward a more fulfilling sexual landscape for everyone, because ace folks who do pursue sex are already making sexual decisions not based on sexual attraction. There are all kinds of reasons for and against sex besides sexual attraction, and ace perspectives provide models for relying on these other reasons.
It’s not easy to determine what role sexual attraction should play in sexual decision-making. But ancient Epicureanism, which challenged the importance of sexual attraction, provides some resources. Founded by Epicurus (341-270 BCE), Epicureanism flourished across the Greco-Roman world for half a millennium. Since Epicureans thought that pleasure is the only good, many people, both ancient and modern, have assumed that the Epicureans are careless pleasure-seekers who would only care about partying.
Actually, though, Epicureans were notoriously hostile to sex. There are so many risks associated with sex, Epicureans thought: all-consuming lovesickness, social penalties, physical ailments, impaired judgment, and more. They devoted special attention to erotic love, which they defined as “an intense desire for sex.” The Epicurean poet Lucretius describes erotic love as directed toward a specific other person; erotic love, which is characterized as an unhealthy attachment to one’s beloved, is directly comparable to sexual attraction as we conceive of it today.
According to Epicureans, you’re unlikely to be able to enjoy the pleasures of sex without being beset by more important harms, especially erotic love and the lovesickness that arises from it. And since sex isn’t necessary for us in the way that food is, non-procreative sex usually doesn’t seem worth the risk. We might disagree with the Epicureans about how significant the risks of sex actually are. But even if we disagree on the whole with Epicureanism’s skepticism about sex, sexual attraction can still make emotional and psychological harms from sex more likely and amplify those that do occur, as Lucretius poetically depicts.
So far, we’ve been exploring what role sexual attraction should play in sexual decision-making. Epicureans give reasons to be wary of sexual attraction, which they think introduces various harms. And both Angela Chen and ancient Epicureans challenge those who assume that sex is necessary for a good life. Now let’s take the next step: if sexual attraction isn’t enough to justify sex, what is? Chen positions sexual decision-making and asexuality in the context of friendship, prioritizing relationships over sexual attraction. Here too, Epicureanism can help motivate her claims.
Epicureans cared deeply about friendship, considering it an essential feature of a good life. To be clear, Epicureans don’t usually recommend sex with friends. But two Epicurean claims about friendship open the door, I think, to a view of sex which centers relationships.
The first claim is that intimacy is really important. Epicureans want to build intimacy with their friends, and they think that spending quality time with friends and helping out your friends builds this sort of trust. But if sex can help foster the intimacy that’s relevant for a good friendship, then it can be desirable. It’s an empirical question whether sex builds this sort of intimacy; and there’s some recent research indicating that the hormonal effects of sex (elevated oxytocin levels, in particular) are positively correlated with behaviors that build greater intimacy.
The second claim is that, when friends have good experiences together, they can look back on and look forward to those experiences to help them out in hard times. Epicureans think that good conversation is a paradigm activity with friends, but so is sharing a nice meal or a drink, even if it’s a bit more indulgent than usual. Sex could be a similar indulgence, an experience with friends which, if it has positive mental associations (perhaps a big if!), can provide comfort in tough times.
Epicureans want to reevaluate sex, and they’re big fans of friendship. Ditto for Chen, who celebrates the strong friendships, and chosen family relationships, that many ace folks have.
For both ace folks and Epicureans, the most action-guiding question is what makes for a good relationship, not what allows for sex or sexual attraction. (Indeed, Epicureans think that sexual attraction often makes relationships worse!) If a relationship does allow for low-risk sex, despite the numerous risks of sex with friends, then that’s an added bonus which we can welcome. But sexual attraction, even if it’s compatible with a good relationship, is a poor indication for when to pursue sex and how to build relationships.
Asexuality and Epicureanism prompt us to radically reorient our priorities when it comes to sex and relationships, by deprioritizing sex and especially sexual attraction. Is this a good idea for most people? The jury is out. Feminists have often observed that sexual attraction is political, in ways that augment existing oppression. Nonetheless, lesbian feminism is widely considered to have failed in attempting to subordinate sexual desires to political aims. At the very least, we can start by asking the right questions, challenging what we think we know about the role of sex in our lives and our relationships. As we do so, asexual perspectives in public discourse and in philosophy, including feminist philosophy and philosophy of sex, can help us envision a better future.
Many thanks to Isabel Uriagereka Herburger, Emilie Egger, and Lizzie Davis for feedback on earlier drafts.
Max DuBoff
Max DuBoff is a PhD candidate in Classics and Philosophy at Yale University. Their research focuses on Epicurean ethics and philosophy of death, developing a unified account of pleasure, deliberation, and the goal of life in Epicurean philosophy, including deliberation about death. Max co-hosts the Bruchim Podcast, which discusses the religious and ethical complexities of circumcision.
