Pride and Pessimism

Last Sunday the New York Times ran an opinion essay by Magdalene Taylor, an editor at Playboy with smart insights about contemporary sexuality. Back in March, I had chatted with Magdalene by phone about her topic: the problem of “heteropessimism,” a term coined by Asa Serensin to express the sense that heterosexuality is, for women in particular, a doomed framework for equitable or fulfilling intimacy. We’ve seen expressions of heteropessimism in the “4B” movement that originated in South Korea among young women pledging not to date, marry, bear children, or otherwise sexually engage with men. A mostly online version of 4B appeared in the US immediately following the 2024 presidential election; young women posted videos explaining that the violent boasts of white nationalist misogynists like Nick Fuentes—who wrote “your body, my choice” on X minutes after the election was called for Trump—proved the futility of believing that a woman could ever be safe, respected, or satisfied in a relationship with a man. (I wrote about the US version of 4B for Slate.)

Heteropessimism is more than women’s online rejection of toxic masculinity. It also reflects the growing chasm between women’s growing social and economic independence, on the one hand, and the efforts of state actors and media personalities to strip women of their most fundamental rights. From the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Supreme Court decision of 2022, overturning Roe v. Wade, to the violent, pro-rape boasts of Fuentes or the Tate brothers, not to mention past statements by the current occupant of the White House, we are living through a profound reckoning over the possibilities of sex equality. Why should a young woman get sexually involved with a man if she fears losing access to full spectrum reproductive healthcare? Why not reject men as sexual partners in a society that seems intent on making a joke or a meme out of violent rape?

Taylor’s angle in the Times essay is that women who desire men should go for it:

There has still never been a better time in human history to happily and successfully pursue heterosexuality, if that is your thing, as it is mine. As straight Americans, we are in the midst of a period of all-but-unprecedented sexual, social and romantic liberty. We have greater freedom than ever before to become whom we want and to date whom we want. And with that should come an optimism strong enough to render the gender wars irrelevant.

As I explained in a note I posted to Substack the day Taylor’s essay was published, I was glad I had the opportunity to speak with her as she researched her essay. I’m quoted a few times in it, providing some light historical gloss on the idea that “the personal is political.” This idea does not ask people to conflate their individual experiences with structural problems. It is, instead, a commentary on the way that misogyny, racism, and classism can skew our perspectives, leading us to think that experiences of intimate partner violence, reproductive coercion, or sexist gender roles are problems we must solve individually. Instead, feminists of the 1970s tried to teach us that those seemingly personal problems are symptoms of much broader political issues.

The Times did a major disservice to Taylor’s essay—and its readers—with the headlines it wrote. (And here I need to thank Artistlike for pointing these out to me!) The first, “Being Straight is Great, Actually,” must have proved too asinine even for the Times editors and was soon replaced with “There’s Nothing Wrong with Wanting Men.” In a comment to my note, Artistlike asked if I “have any thoughts about the[] Times having chosen to publish these immediately prior to Pride month when the federal government is waging the most aggressive anti-LGBT campaign since the 1980s.” If the editors thought they were being cute, they failed. (When Taylor and I spoke by phone in March, I had no idea when the piece would run, and I doubt she did either.) I wholly agree with Artistlike and the many, many other people who found the headlines and the timing of publication to be gratuitous, glib, and obnoxious.

I am not a cheerleader for heterosexuality. In fact, I’ve devoted significant portions of my career to being critical of it. (See this book and also this one.) Taylor also has a sunnier view than I do about the relative power women have today in relationships with men. I am sympathetic with the allure of heteropessimism given the rise of the manosphere and the overturning of Roe. Where I part ways with it, and what I shared with Taylor in our conversation, is that while heteropessimism emerged as a response to political and social inequalities, the solution too often seems to be a message to young women that they, in their intimate lives, should avoid intimacy with men — and that if they can’t, then they should at least apologize for it. That is a personal solution to a structural problem. It’s also a solution that verges on telling women who desire men that those desires are, if not wrong, then unfortunate.

We gain nothing by shaming people for their sexual interests or consensual sexual behaviors. We need to recall the “sex wars” of the late 1970s and the 1980s, as American feminists battled over whether BDSM thrust women back into the violent conditions of patriarchy. Could you still call yourself a feminist if you practiced sexual role play or bondage? A powerful if small group of activists answered in the affirmative, but they were subsequently pushed out of many feminist organizations and denigrated within their professions.

What I want to tell young people today about sexual desire is the following: figure out what you like. Find safe places and trustworthy people with whom to express those desires. Experiment and play. Try to imagine what you would want if no one ever told you what you should want. And then march against authoritarianism and donate your time and, if you have some to spare, your money to groups advocating for reproductive justice and LGBTQ+ rights. Stand up against ICE and the hyper-militarized violence it celebrates. Use your voice. Desire is complicated and sometimes messy, but on matters sexual and otherwise, politics is unavoidable.

I’ll see you at Pride!