This article was cross-posted on The Asexual Agenda.
Recently, there was a very short documentary entitled “I’m Graysexual”
(NSFW), featuring a man about my age, and using the same identity as I
do: gay and greysexual. He does nothing more than briefly explain his
personal experience, which is somewhat different from my own, and as I
said, it’s very short.
What was particularly significant to me was not what was said, but
what was unsaid. Specifically, the documentarian chose a stream of
clips that imply close interaction with urban gay culture. He walks
around what appears to be West Hollywood (the gay neighborhood in Los
Angeles). He hangs out at gay nightclubs, watching go-go boys. He
looks quizzically at packaged dildos, racks of porn videos, Grindr.
This is all incredibly familiar to me.
I often feel like I’m the only ace who interacts with that kind of gay
male culture. This is not surprising: this is only one of many gay
cultures, the ace community is dominated by women, and not all ace men
are homoromantic, gay, or bi. But even among those in the right
demographics, I often hear that ace men simply aren’t willing to put up
with it.
That, too, is not surprising, and can be explained in one word:
S-E-X. I don’t need to explain the stereotype, you already know it.
Gay culture… is not really what I would have created if I were
dictator. But because of my disposition, I find it tolerable. I even
find benefits to it, since a space where people openly talk about sex gives an opening to talk about asexuality.
And to be honest, I’d take it over straight culture any day.
Straight people are space aliens. They think that the only way to
proceed in life is to get married and have children. They think men
should have initiative, and women should just be receptive. I don’t
understand it, and I feel sorry for all the people who have to live in
it, particularly the non-straight people. Other people have lamented a
lack of older single role models, so I should mention I’ve known plenty
of older gay bachelors. I’m in a stable relationship so I’m not going
in that direction personally, but it wouldn’t feel odd to me if I did.
So here I am, choosing to deal with a very sexual culture, rather
than dealing with that other heteronormative one. I’ve been to gay
nightclubs packed full of sweaty men. I’ve had awkward encounters with
rice queens, and then befriended them because what else are you going to
do? I’ve wandered the Castro many times, where inexplicably the best
place to get beer is the wine bar. And I’ve sat through a million
conversations about Grindr (a popular hookup app), and seen a million
more online articles about it, from the many online gay websites that
are basically like teen girl magazines, except for older gay men.
People argue back and forth about Grindr the same way that they argue
back and forth about looking at smartphones during social outings. It’s
the same argument, really, because what else do you use a smartphone
for, amirite?
I spend a lot of space talking about Grindr, because that represents
the amount of attention it gets in reality. Eh, it’s more amusing than
talking about sportsball, another aspect of space alien culture I don’t
miss.
In gay culture, I blend in fairly well. Acquaintances assume I’m gay
until otherwise noted. It eventually becomes otherwise noted, as I
haphazardly come out to people as ace. At that point I become an
oddity, that one asexual guy that people know. They’re puzzled how that
works, why I’m bothering to be here, and what I do with my boyfriend,
but they rarely ask such questions directly. I wonder if this is how
bisexual men feel.
If there’s one advantage of heteronormative straight culture vs
hypersexual gay culture, it’s that heternormativity can be opposed.
Sexual culture cannot be opposed, because at least superficially, it has
some decent justifications. There is an ongoing discussion
about the level of sexuality in gay culture, but it’s not a discussion
that aces play any role in. The discussion is about Grindr, about
hookup culture, and about assimilationism vs liberationism.
I don’t give a shit about assimilating, but I would like it if there
were more public concern about sexual assault, or even the social
capital placed on sexual desirability and ability. Sadly, such concerns
are more typical among feminists, who are typically women. I will be
waiting for a long time for the gay male feminist revolution.
So that’s the social life I have, and it’s okay. There are some
problems, but nobody is pressuring me to follow a fixed life
trajectory. Dropping heteronormativity is great, I recommend it.
Showing posts with label asexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asexuality. Show all posts
Monday, September 28, 2015
Friday, August 28, 2015
A personal history with trans issues
Since
I'm resolving, as a cis person, to talk about transgender issues more
often, I wish to explain the personal trajectory that lead to my current
perspective.
I first started identifying as queer in 2009. More specifically, I'm gay gray-A, meaning that I'm on the boundaries between asexual and gay. Back then, I was nominally accepting of trans people, but I didn't think about them that much. And the reality is that in this society, transphobia and ignorance are so pervasive that if you haven't thought about it you are almost certainly the holder of many problematic views and behaviors.
But I would say I was eager to learn, and here enters the asexual influence. Asexuals were a small group that hardly anyone in the queer student groups understood or spoke of. Transgender people were in the same boat. Clearly we should be friends.
Essential commentators
I didn't actually have a personal friend who was trans until 2010. We were both affiliated with queer-themed housing and were outcasts of sorts from the main cliques (which consisted of gay men and straight women, naturally). We ended up talking a lot about trans issues, often so she could vent about things that other people in the house were saying.
This was of course very eye-opening. But the most eye-opening stuff I learned was not trans 101, but learning about the turbulence of trans politics. The very first thing I learned about were trans-exclusive feminists. And then the real kicker was learning about transphobia among trans people. The overall impression I had was of a bunch of people on a boat that's been hit with a missile. As it sinks, everyone shouts over whose fault it was and then tries to throw each other off the boat.
That isn't what you'd think of as an ideal introduction to a subject. But I tend to think inter- and intra-community conflict is intriguing and hashes out a lot of details that would otherwise go undeveloped. And sometimes skipping to the advanced issues makes the basic issues seem all the more obvious and urgent.
Since then, I've found trans writers to be essential commentators. I don't mean to treat trans people like magical social justice wizards, but over the years I happened to like a lot of social justice critics who were trans activists. I don't know if I could really pin down the emotional reasons why. I would say... progressive movements are absolutely essential to trans people, but trans people also tend to have a healthy degree of cynicism about the same movements. I also need those progressive movements, and need that cynicism.
Non-binary aces
Most of the trans writers I'm thinking of are trans women. But my central image of a trans person is someone who is non-binary. Because being in the ace community, non-binary people are everywhere. There are more non-binary people than there are men.
A few anecdotes might establish that non-binary people weren't simply present, but taking important roles. Back in 2011, I wrote a short history of the Livejournal asexuality community. That history was based on an interview I had with the founder, Nat Titman; Nat is non-binary. They're like the dark knight of asexuality. They played a very important role, but dropped out of public view for many years, partially out of concern that people would confuse asexuality with gender.
Also in 2011, I conducted an interview (not available online) with Charlie, one of the figures in the Transyada community. The Transyadas were a big deal in 2011. They started out as a massive thread on the AVEN forums, but later decamped and moved to the Transyada forums. Note the reason they decamped was because they were dissatisfied with the amount of transphobia on AVEN, so that's a hint while non-binary people have always been around, ace communities haven't always been friendly to them.
Aside from that, I've had many colleagues, cobloggers, copanelists, interviewees, and friends who were non-binary.
That said, I've never made any concerted effort to learn about non-binary issues. What I know about non-binary people is mostly from osmosis over the years. I understand pronouns, and much of the vocabulary, but that's very much on a different level from being able to blog about it extensively.
On blog focus
When you have a personal blog, your choice of topics is a very personal decision, and one that I don't need to defend. But I'll briefly comment on why I haven't blogged much about trans issues in the past despite considering them important.
The basic reason is that I mostly use this blog to share original thoughts. When it comes to trans issues, the most appropriate thing is not to share my original thoughts, but to amplify trans voices. And I don't have very much power to amplify so what's the point?
I feel the same way about Black Lives Matter. It's a very important movement but also I don't know what to say about it. When I comment on an issue, I tend to complicate things and add nuance. But do I really need to bring any nuance to the issue of police being violently racist? That strikes me as straightforward.
But now I want to talk more about trans issues. Following my usual blogging style, that means adding nuance. But I'm keenly aware that as a cis person, my ability to add nuance is limited, and I will ultimately make mistakes. I hope I have enough trans readers around that they'll poke me if I say something wrong.
TL;DR
-Trans issues are important to me, and I also find trans women activists to be great social critics in general.
-In my experience with the ace community, I interact with a lot of non-binary people, but I don't necessarily understand their issues in great depth.
-As I begin to comment more on trans issues, I try to be aware of the limitations in my cis perspective.
I first started identifying as queer in 2009. More specifically, I'm gay gray-A, meaning that I'm on the boundaries between asexual and gay. Back then, I was nominally accepting of trans people, but I didn't think about them that much. And the reality is that in this society, transphobia and ignorance are so pervasive that if you haven't thought about it you are almost certainly the holder of many problematic views and behaviors.
But I would say I was eager to learn, and here enters the asexual influence. Asexuals were a small group that hardly anyone in the queer student groups understood or spoke of. Transgender people were in the same boat. Clearly we should be friends.
Essential commentators
I didn't actually have a personal friend who was trans until 2010. We were both affiliated with queer-themed housing and were outcasts of sorts from the main cliques (which consisted of gay men and straight women, naturally). We ended up talking a lot about trans issues, often so she could vent about things that other people in the house were saying.
This was of course very eye-opening. But the most eye-opening stuff I learned was not trans 101, but learning about the turbulence of trans politics. The very first thing I learned about were trans-exclusive feminists. And then the real kicker was learning about transphobia among trans people. The overall impression I had was of a bunch of people on a boat that's been hit with a missile. As it sinks, everyone shouts over whose fault it was and then tries to throw each other off the boat.
That isn't what you'd think of as an ideal introduction to a subject. But I tend to think inter- and intra-community conflict is intriguing and hashes out a lot of details that would otherwise go undeveloped. And sometimes skipping to the advanced issues makes the basic issues seem all the more obvious and urgent.
Since then, I've found trans writers to be essential commentators. I don't mean to treat trans people like magical social justice wizards, but over the years I happened to like a lot of social justice critics who were trans activists. I don't know if I could really pin down the emotional reasons why. I would say... progressive movements are absolutely essential to trans people, but trans people also tend to have a healthy degree of cynicism about the same movements. I also need those progressive movements, and need that cynicism.
Non-binary aces
Most of the trans writers I'm thinking of are trans women. But my central image of a trans person is someone who is non-binary. Because being in the ace community, non-binary people are everywhere. There are more non-binary people than there are men.
A few anecdotes might establish that non-binary people weren't simply present, but taking important roles. Back in 2011, I wrote a short history of the Livejournal asexuality community. That history was based on an interview I had with the founder, Nat Titman; Nat is non-binary. They're like the dark knight of asexuality. They played a very important role, but dropped out of public view for many years, partially out of concern that people would confuse asexuality with gender.
Also in 2011, I conducted an interview (not available online) with Charlie, one of the figures in the Transyada community. The Transyadas were a big deal in 2011. They started out as a massive thread on the AVEN forums, but later decamped and moved to the Transyada forums. Note the reason they decamped was because they were dissatisfied with the amount of transphobia on AVEN, so that's a hint while non-binary people have always been around, ace communities haven't always been friendly to them.
Aside from that, I've had many colleagues, cobloggers, copanelists, interviewees, and friends who were non-binary.
That said, I've never made any concerted effort to learn about non-binary issues. What I know about non-binary people is mostly from osmosis over the years. I understand pronouns, and much of the vocabulary, but that's very much on a different level from being able to blog about it extensively.
On blog focus
When you have a personal blog, your choice of topics is a very personal decision, and one that I don't need to defend. But I'll briefly comment on why I haven't blogged much about trans issues in the past despite considering them important.
The basic reason is that I mostly use this blog to share original thoughts. When it comes to trans issues, the most appropriate thing is not to share my original thoughts, but to amplify trans voices. And I don't have very much power to amplify so what's the point?
I feel the same way about Black Lives Matter. It's a very important movement but also I don't know what to say about it. When I comment on an issue, I tend to complicate things and add nuance. But do I really need to bring any nuance to the issue of police being violently racist? That strikes me as straightforward.
But now I want to talk more about trans issues. Following my usual blogging style, that means adding nuance. But I'm keenly aware that as a cis person, my ability to add nuance is limited, and I will ultimately make mistakes. I hope I have enough trans readers around that they'll poke me if I say something wrong.
TL;DR
-Trans issues are important to me, and I also find trans women activists to be great social critics in general.
-In my experience with the ace community, I interact with a lot of non-binary people, but I don't necessarily understand their issues in great depth.
-As I begin to comment more on trans issues, I try to be aware of the limitations in my cis perspective.
Categories:
asexuality,
blogging,
lgbta
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Flibanserin/Addyi: Potential problems for asexuals
The FDA recently approved Flibanserin/Addyi as a medication to treat low sexual desire in women. Let's talk about what that means for asexuals.
Background
I apologize for repeating some background, but it's necessary because of the many misconceptions about Addyi.
Addyi is the very first drug approved for low sexual desire. No, Viagra was never a treatment for low sexual desire. Furthermore, Addyi is taken daily, while Viagra is taken as needed. Addyi also has serious side effects. Most significantly, it absolutely does not mix with alcohol. It's also considered too dangerous to take in the daytime.
Additionally, the effects of Addyi are extremely marginal. In a trial, women with sexual desire disorders started with a baseline of ~2.7 "sexually satisfying events" per month. Placebo increased this number by once a month, and Addyi increased it by less than twice a month. So we're talking about an increase of about 20%, which for all I know could be achieved by Addyi's sedative side effects.
Hypothetically, a drug like Addyi could do some good for some people, but let's talk about the drug we actually have. And regardless of the good that it might hypothetically do, we also need to weigh that good against the bad.
Asexuals vs Desire Disorders.
The basic problem is that there may be some people with sexual desire disorders, but asexuals exist too, and not everyone can distinguish between them. Asexuality as an orientation has only come to public awareness over the past decade or so, and it's extremely common for asexuals themselves to be unaware of it. When confronted with asexuality, many doctors, asexuals, and people in general deny what is unfamiliar to them.
Even if we were to approach the problem from a clear-minded perspective, no simple rules can be used to make the distinction. You can't use distress as a distinction because asexuals may be distressed about their orientation, and often are. Even if the distress is due to society, the asexuals themselves may not make that connection until later. You can't use a sudden change in sexual desire as a distinction, because sexuality can fluctuate. Someone who was happy with higher sexual desire may also find happiness with low sexual desire.
Some people think that there are at least a few clear cases, such as women with low sexual desire due to other medical conditions, or as a side effect from other drugs. But Addyi is explicitly not approved for such cases, because the risks haven't been assessed.
Predicted problems
These are my predictions for what problems will occur affecting people on the asexual spectrum.
Ad campaigns - There will likely be ads for Addyi which encourage people to view low sexual desire as a problem, even if they wouldn't otherwise.
Unaware asexuals - People who don't experience sexual attraction might be even less likely to learn about asexuality.
Disbelieving public - Partners, friends, relatives, and the general public are often already predisposed to disbelieve asexuality, and might be even more encouraged by Addyi and its marketing.
Pushy doctors - Doctors who do not recognize asexuality, or simply unaware, might encourage their patients to take Addyi without making them aware of the asexual spectrum.
Disbelieving doctors - Doctors who hare aware of Addyi may be less likely to believe patients who disclose their asexuality.
Pushy partners - People with partners with higher degree of sexual desire might be persuaded or even blackmailed into seeking Addyi. It could be used as a tool for control in abusive relationships.
If you can think of any other predictions, I'd like to hear about them.
Proposed solutions
Since Addyi is already approved, nothing can be done about that for now. But to counteract some of the negative consequences, I propose that:
Background
I apologize for repeating some background, but it's necessary because of the many misconceptions about Addyi.
Addyi is the very first drug approved for low sexual desire. No, Viagra was never a treatment for low sexual desire. Furthermore, Addyi is taken daily, while Viagra is taken as needed. Addyi also has serious side effects. Most significantly, it absolutely does not mix with alcohol. It's also considered too dangerous to take in the daytime.
Additionally, the effects of Addyi are extremely marginal. In a trial, women with sexual desire disorders started with a baseline of ~2.7 "sexually satisfying events" per month. Placebo increased this number by once a month, and Addyi increased it by less than twice a month. So we're talking about an increase of about 20%, which for all I know could be achieved by Addyi's sedative side effects.
Hypothetically, a drug like Addyi could do some good for some people, but let's talk about the drug we actually have. And regardless of the good that it might hypothetically do, we also need to weigh that good against the bad.
Asexuals vs Desire Disorders.
The basic problem is that there may be some people with sexual desire disorders, but asexuals exist too, and not everyone can distinguish between them. Asexuality as an orientation has only come to public awareness over the past decade or so, and it's extremely common for asexuals themselves to be unaware of it. When confronted with asexuality, many doctors, asexuals, and people in general deny what is unfamiliar to them.
Even if we were to approach the problem from a clear-minded perspective, no simple rules can be used to make the distinction. You can't use distress as a distinction because asexuals may be distressed about their orientation, and often are. Even if the distress is due to society, the asexuals themselves may not make that connection until later. You can't use a sudden change in sexual desire as a distinction, because sexuality can fluctuate. Someone who was happy with higher sexual desire may also find happiness with low sexual desire.
Some people think that there are at least a few clear cases, such as women with low sexual desire due to other medical conditions, or as a side effect from other drugs. But Addyi is explicitly not approved for such cases, because the risks haven't been assessed.
Predicted problems
These are my predictions for what problems will occur affecting people on the asexual spectrum.
Ad campaigns - There will likely be ads for Addyi which encourage people to view low sexual desire as a problem, even if they wouldn't otherwise.
Unaware asexuals - People who don't experience sexual attraction might be even less likely to learn about asexuality.
Disbelieving public - Partners, friends, relatives, and the general public are often already predisposed to disbelieve asexuality, and might be even more encouraged by Addyi and its marketing.
Pushy doctors - Doctors who do not recognize asexuality, or simply unaware, might encourage their patients to take Addyi without making them aware of the asexual spectrum.
Disbelieving doctors - Doctors who hare aware of Addyi may be less likely to believe patients who disclose their asexuality.
Pushy partners - People with partners with higher degree of sexual desire might be persuaded or even blackmailed into seeking Addyi. It could be used as a tool for control in abusive relationships.
If you can think of any other predictions, I'd like to hear about them.
Proposed solutions
Since Addyi is already approved, nothing can be done about that for now. But to counteract some of the negative consequences, I propose that:
- Doctors certified to prescribe Addyi should be educated about asexuality.
- Addyi marketing materials should be criticized and mocked.
- There should be more mainstream articles thoughtfully addressing Addyi and sexual desire disorders in relation to asexuality.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Meta-issues with petition
Earlier, I wrote about a petition to the FDA to disapprove the drug Flibanserin (brand name Addyi), and expressed my (lukewarm) support of it. The petition is no longer circulating, since the FDA has already made its decision. It was approved.
Previously, I made an error: I said that Flibanserin was a treatment for Female Sexual Interest/Arousal Disorder (FSIAD). In fact, it was tested for Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD), which is an out-of-date diagnosis. That's bad because HSDD doesn't have a loophole for asexuals. Furthermore, HSDD is defined to include people with "interpersonal difficulties", which means if their partner is unhappy with it they could get diagnosed.
So now that it's done, I have to say, I really don't get the point of the petition. A drug should be approved or disapproved on scientific grounds. And a petition is not exactly proper scientific protocol.
The basic problem with petitions is that they only contain information about how many people agreed, and not how many people disagreed. Circulate a petition widely enough, you can get as many signatures as you want. Even petitions signed by scientists are pretty useless, as parodied by Project Steve.
Many people signing the petition dwelt long on arguments over whether the clinical trials show that Flibanserin is effective. I don't see how that is relevant to the petition. The FDA already knows about the clinical trials. It doesn't need thousands of people on the internet to offer their own opinion. That's why, in my argument in favor of the petition, I waved away the results of clinical trials in favor of discussing the social ramifications of the drug.
At the same time, I'm highly doubtful that the FDA even considers social ramifications in its approval process. I'm also doubtful that they should. Say that the FDA is deciding on a contraceptive drug, do I really want them to even consider arguments that birth control ruins our culture? I don't think so.
The Ace Flibanserin Task Force was also plugging another petition which urges the FDA to stick to the science and ignore all the pro-Flibanserin PR. The thing about that petition, its message is inconsistent with first petition. One petition says, just look at the science and nothing else. The other petition says, also look at these social ramifications. Well. That's politics I guess.
Really, the main point of this petition seems to be to get people in the asexual community to talk about Flibanserin. Fine, it got me to talk about it. It didn't get me to stop being a cynic.
Now that it's been approved, I suppose we'll see what its social ramifications are.
Previously, I made an error: I said that Flibanserin was a treatment for Female Sexual Interest/Arousal Disorder (FSIAD). In fact, it was tested for Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD), which is an out-of-date diagnosis. That's bad because HSDD doesn't have a loophole for asexuals. Furthermore, HSDD is defined to include people with "interpersonal difficulties", which means if their partner is unhappy with it they could get diagnosed.
So now that it's done, I have to say, I really don't get the point of the petition. A drug should be approved or disapproved on scientific grounds. And a petition is not exactly proper scientific protocol.
The basic problem with petitions is that they only contain information about how many people agreed, and not how many people disagreed. Circulate a petition widely enough, you can get as many signatures as you want. Even petitions signed by scientists are pretty useless, as parodied by Project Steve.
Many people signing the petition dwelt long on arguments over whether the clinical trials show that Flibanserin is effective. I don't see how that is relevant to the petition. The FDA already knows about the clinical trials. It doesn't need thousands of people on the internet to offer their own opinion. That's why, in my argument in favor of the petition, I waved away the results of clinical trials in favor of discussing the social ramifications of the drug.
At the same time, I'm highly doubtful that the FDA even considers social ramifications in its approval process. I'm also doubtful that they should. Say that the FDA is deciding on a contraceptive drug, do I really want them to even consider arguments that birth control ruins our culture? I don't think so.
The Ace Flibanserin Task Force was also plugging another petition which urges the FDA to stick to the science and ignore all the pro-Flibanserin PR. The thing about that petition, its message is inconsistent with first petition. One petition says, just look at the science and nothing else. The other petition says, also look at these social ramifications. Well. That's politics I guess.
Really, the main point of this petition seems to be to get people in the asexual community to talk about Flibanserin. Fine, it got me to talk about it. It didn't get me to stop being a cynic.
Now that it's been approved, I suppose we'll see what its social ramifications are.
Categories:
asexuality,
lgbta,
news,
science
Monday, August 10, 2015
The petition against Flibanserin
Background
Flibanserin (trade name: Girosa) is a drug that treats low sexual desire in women (Female Sexual Interest/Arousal Disorder, or FSIAD). It is not publicly available because it has not (yet) been approved by the FDA. The FDA will approve or disapprove of it by the end of the week.
Flibanserin is not like Viagra, although that's a common misunderstanding. Viagra does not treat low sexual desire, but rather erectile dysfunction. Furthermore, Flibanserin is intended to be taken on a regular basis. Trials show that women with acquired sexual desire disorders who take Flibanserin had on average 0.7 more satisfying sexual events per month, as compared to placebo. Specifically, it increased the number from 2.8 to 4.5, whereas placebo increased it from 2.7 to 3.7. There are also side effects, though I'm not too familiar with what they are.
The Ace Flibanserin Task Force is circulating a petition among aces to recommend that the FDA disapprove. The existence of Flibanserin would encourage doctors to diagnose asexuals with FSIAD, and it is likely that the Flibanserin/Girosa ad campaign will involve shaming women for low sexual desire.
This has sparked some argument over whether the petition is right. Asexuals may be "happy" with a lack of sexual desire (though there are always external factors affecting their happiness), but that doesn't mean that everyone is happy with it, and perhaps some people have conditions that are best treated within a healthcare framework. Is it right for asexuals to take away that choice?
These are good questions to ask. Way back in 2010, Flibanserin was also being considered for approval by the FDA (it was rejected), and a similar petition was being circulated. So I helped create this interview with a sexual dysfunction activist, so that we could learn what the "other side" is concerned about.
Why I support this petition
Is it right for asexuals to take away the choice of people who want effective treatment for sexual desire disorders? While this is an important question, it is not the same as the question of whether to sign the petition. A petition simply doesn't have the power to take away an effective medical treatment. The petition is neither created or signed by scientific experts, and the FDA knows this.
The purpose of the petition, in my view, is to ask the FDA to consider the externalities of approving Flibanserin. Principally, I am worried about that public ad campaign which will amplify the social shaming of low sexual interest, and doctors' inability to distinguish between asexuality and sexual desire disorders. The harms caused by these externalities would be difficult, if not impossible to measure with scientific studies, but they are still real harms. And without a petition, the FDA would not have much of a basis to consider these harms.
In many of the arguments over the petition, people are talking about the scientific research into Flibanserin, and its exceedingly marginal effect. If you're willing to read the research, you may let that inform your decision. However, in principle, you shouldn't have to. It's the FDA's job to consider the body of research, and as a non-expert I cannot meaningfully contribute to that.
All that matters is that, at a glance, the effects of Flibanserin look marginal, so there's a chance that the external costs might matter. The FDA can weigh the petition in their own cost-benefit analysis, and can still decide either way. Since I am not an expert, I trust the FDA's judgment more than my own.
On people with sexual dysfunction
In the interview with the sexual dysfunction activist in 2010, we learned a few important things.
While it is true that many asexuals have difficulty getting their doctors and therapists to recognize their asexuality, the flipside is that people with sexual dysfunctions have the same difficulty. Even when the dysfunction literally causes pain, doctors may not recognize it or offer treatment.
Furthermore, there are also many feminists who oppose any drug to increase sexual desire, even if effective. Instead they take the view that "low sexual desire" is a social problem, or that we're socialized to think it's a problem. I looked around to see what feminists are saying against Flibanserin now, and they do raise many valid concerns. On the other hand, the articles minimize or wave away people with sexual dysfunctions. As our interviewee observed in 2010, voices from people with sexual dysfunctions are entirely absent.
Though I support the petition, I do not support the silencing of the concerns of people with sexual dysfunctions.
Corrections 8/18/2015: Flibanserin's brand name is Addyi, not Girosa, and it was tested to treat Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD) rather than FSIAD.
Flibanserin (trade name: Girosa) is a drug that treats low sexual desire in women (Female Sexual Interest/Arousal Disorder, or FSIAD). It is not publicly available because it has not (yet) been approved by the FDA. The FDA will approve or disapprove of it by the end of the week.
Flibanserin is not like Viagra, although that's a common misunderstanding. Viagra does not treat low sexual desire, but rather erectile dysfunction. Furthermore, Flibanserin is intended to be taken on a regular basis. Trials show that women with acquired sexual desire disorders who take Flibanserin had on average 0.7 more satisfying sexual events per month, as compared to placebo. Specifically, it increased the number from 2.8 to 4.5, whereas placebo increased it from 2.7 to 3.7. There are also side effects, though I'm not too familiar with what they are.
The Ace Flibanserin Task Force is circulating a petition among aces to recommend that the FDA disapprove. The existence of Flibanserin would encourage doctors to diagnose asexuals with FSIAD, and it is likely that the Flibanserin/Girosa ad campaign will involve shaming women for low sexual desire.
This has sparked some argument over whether the petition is right. Asexuals may be "happy" with a lack of sexual desire (though there are always external factors affecting their happiness), but that doesn't mean that everyone is happy with it, and perhaps some people have conditions that are best treated within a healthcare framework. Is it right for asexuals to take away that choice?
These are good questions to ask. Way back in 2010, Flibanserin was also being considered for approval by the FDA (it was rejected), and a similar petition was being circulated. So I helped create this interview with a sexual dysfunction activist, so that we could learn what the "other side" is concerned about.
Why I support this petition
Is it right for asexuals to take away the choice of people who want effective treatment for sexual desire disorders? While this is an important question, it is not the same as the question of whether to sign the petition. A petition simply doesn't have the power to take away an effective medical treatment. The petition is neither created or signed by scientific experts, and the FDA knows this.
The purpose of the petition, in my view, is to ask the FDA to consider the externalities of approving Flibanserin. Principally, I am worried about that public ad campaign which will amplify the social shaming of low sexual interest, and doctors' inability to distinguish between asexuality and sexual desire disorders. The harms caused by these externalities would be difficult, if not impossible to measure with scientific studies, but they are still real harms. And without a petition, the FDA would not have much of a basis to consider these harms.
In many of the arguments over the petition, people are talking about the scientific research into Flibanserin, and its exceedingly marginal effect. If you're willing to read the research, you may let that inform your decision. However, in principle, you shouldn't have to. It's the FDA's job to consider the body of research, and as a non-expert I cannot meaningfully contribute to that.
All that matters is that, at a glance, the effects of Flibanserin look marginal, so there's a chance that the external costs might matter. The FDA can weigh the petition in their own cost-benefit analysis, and can still decide either way. Since I am not an expert, I trust the FDA's judgment more than my own.
On people with sexual dysfunction
In the interview with the sexual dysfunction activist in 2010, we learned a few important things.
While it is true that many asexuals have difficulty getting their doctors and therapists to recognize their asexuality, the flipside is that people with sexual dysfunctions have the same difficulty. Even when the dysfunction literally causes pain, doctors may not recognize it or offer treatment.
Furthermore, there are also many feminists who oppose any drug to increase sexual desire, even if effective. Instead they take the view that "low sexual desire" is a social problem, or that we're socialized to think it's a problem. I looked around to see what feminists are saying against Flibanserin now, and they do raise many valid concerns. On the other hand, the articles minimize or wave away people with sexual dysfunctions. As our interviewee observed in 2010, voices from people with sexual dysfunctions are entirely absent.
Though I support the petition, I do not support the silencing of the concerns of people with sexual dysfunctions.
Corrections 8/18/2015: Flibanserin's brand name is Addyi, not Girosa, and it was tested to treat Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD) rather than FSIAD.
Categories:
asexuality,
feminism,
lgbta,
science
Monday, July 27, 2015
Asexual Agenda: Asexuality in China
For those interested, on The Asexual Agenda, I wrote a summary of a paper on asexuality in china.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Surveys and validation
This has been cross-posted on The Asexual Agenda. Obligatory disclaimer: My views do not necessarily reflect those of the AVEN survey committee. I speak only for myself.
When the AVEN Community Census, a volunteer-run survey of asexual communities, approached the data analysis phase, someone on the committee said, "Who will help me eat the bread?" That phrase stuck with me as a particularly apt description of survey creation, albeit completely backwards.
The question, "Who will help me eat the bread?" comes from the folk story, "The Little Red Hen". In the story, the hen asks for volunteers to help in the various steps to create bread, but none will volunteer. Finally, she asks for volunteers to eat the bread, and suddenly everyone is feeling helpful!
As the committee member put it, writing the questions and disseminating the survey is the hard work to make bread. Analyzing the survey is eating the bread. Everyone wants to know the results!
But having actually worked on the survey analysis, my impression is that writing the questions is eating the bread, while data analysis is just plain work. Even when it comes to myself, I'm enthusiastic about doing analysis but it's a lot of work and I can't seem to find the time. (In contrast, finding time for blogging is much easier.) And this is not a singular pattern. You can see from the history of asexual community surveys that the hardest part is getting the analysis moving.
Writing questions also garners a lot of community interest, judging by the abundance of complaints about questions, and scarcity of complaints about the lack of analysis. More specifically, people are interested in what's in the questions, because questions are a form of validation. People really want to see their particular identity, their particular experience, and their particular views reflected in the survey.
And this is all wrong, in my opinion. What makes a good survey question is independent of validating identities. For example, when choosing what romantic orientations appear on the survey, the primary consideration is to capture the most common combinations of identities, basically so we can minimize the labor of interpreting write-in responses, and create a succinct summary of results. To assign validity according to whether the romantic orientation appears in the survey is to assign validity based on popularity.
There are other concerns too, such as whether an experience can be easily quantified, whether it tells us something we already knew, and whether it's the sort of thing we want to measure on an annual basis, or just for one year. Plus there are a bunch of random personal factors and plain stupid oversights, so I'm not saying it's wrong for people to complain.
Complaints about survey questions evoked many mixed feelings in me. Some critiques of the survey were valid, and I don't wish to discourage people from giving them. And even if there's nothing to be changed, people's feelings are still valid and can be expressed freely. But clearly a lot of people have an emotional need for validation from authority, any kind of authority at all. I don't want to be your benevolent authority, I want you to be free.
When the AVEN Community Census, a volunteer-run survey of asexual communities, approached the data analysis phase, someone on the committee said, "Who will help me eat the bread?" That phrase stuck with me as a particularly apt description of survey creation, albeit completely backwards.
The question, "Who will help me eat the bread?" comes from the folk story, "The Little Red Hen". In the story, the hen asks for volunteers to help in the various steps to create bread, but none will volunteer. Finally, she asks for volunteers to eat the bread, and suddenly everyone is feeling helpful!
As the committee member put it, writing the questions and disseminating the survey is the hard work to make bread. Analyzing the survey is eating the bread. Everyone wants to know the results!
But having actually worked on the survey analysis, my impression is that writing the questions is eating the bread, while data analysis is just plain work. Even when it comes to myself, I'm enthusiastic about doing analysis but it's a lot of work and I can't seem to find the time. (In contrast, finding time for blogging is much easier.) And this is not a singular pattern. You can see from the history of asexual community surveys that the hardest part is getting the analysis moving.
Writing questions also garners a lot of community interest, judging by the abundance of complaints about questions, and scarcity of complaints about the lack of analysis. More specifically, people are interested in what's in the questions, because questions are a form of validation. People really want to see their particular identity, their particular experience, and their particular views reflected in the survey.
And this is all wrong, in my opinion. What makes a good survey question is independent of validating identities. For example, when choosing what romantic orientations appear on the survey, the primary consideration is to capture the most common combinations of identities, basically so we can minimize the labor of interpreting write-in responses, and create a succinct summary of results. To assign validity according to whether the romantic orientation appears in the survey is to assign validity based on popularity.
There are other concerns too, such as whether an experience can be easily quantified, whether it tells us something we already knew, and whether it's the sort of thing we want to measure on an annual basis, or just for one year. Plus there are a bunch of random personal factors and plain stupid oversights, so I'm not saying it's wrong for people to complain.
Complaints about survey questions evoked many mixed feelings in me. Some critiques of the survey were valid, and I don't wish to discourage people from giving them. And even if there's nothing to be changed, people's feelings are still valid and can be expressed freely. But clearly a lot of people have an emotional need for validation from authority, any kind of authority at all. I don't want to be your benevolent authority, I want you to be free.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Writing about writing about writing
One of
the reasons I stopped writing so much about my attempt at a novel is
that I hated all the encouragement I got. It's not as if every bit of
praise caused a jab of pain. Rather, it was weeks or months later that
the flattery slowly began to sour on me.
The first problem is that whenever I talk about my novel, it turns into an advertisement. It gives me all the negative feelings I get from self-advertisement. But unlike self-advertisement, I don't actually get any sales out of it. It will be a long time before this novel is published, if at all.
Advertisement has never been my goal. I just want to dabble a completely different kind of writing from what I'm used to, blather about all the junk that I learn, and vent about petty insecurities (see: this post). I am not attempting to be deep or impressive.
The second problem is that I feel like people don't get excited about quite the same things I do.
For example, I feel burdened by the pervasive expectation that I am writing sci-fi, fantasy, or YA. I want to write realistic (or surrealistic) literary fiction, but I can hardly tell what that means, or how it might be different from more popular genres. I feel disconnected from most online conversations about writing, because I never know when the ideas that float around really pertain to what I'm trying to do. I am used to living on the long tail of culture, but this is one instance when it really starts to grate, and I start ranting about geek cultural hegemony.
And people aren't sold on my novel, they're just sold on the premise. In particular, readers of The Asexual Agenda were excited that I would have an asexual character. This is understandable, since clear asexual characters are extremely rare in fiction, and indeed I wouldn't write asexual characters in if I didn't find the idea exciting myself.
But my mind already skips ahead to a future era. Some day, there will be lots of ace characters in every conceivable medium and genre. And 90% of everything will be crap. I want judgmentalism, discernment. I want stories that are different, even in the hypothetical world where there are lots of things to be different from. I want to talk about what happens in the stories, not just the fact that the stories exist.
The first problem is that whenever I talk about my novel, it turns into an advertisement. It gives me all the negative feelings I get from self-advertisement. But unlike self-advertisement, I don't actually get any sales out of it. It will be a long time before this novel is published, if at all.
Advertisement has never been my goal. I just want to dabble a completely different kind of writing from what I'm used to, blather about all the junk that I learn, and vent about petty insecurities (see: this post). I am not attempting to be deep or impressive.
The second problem is that I feel like people don't get excited about quite the same things I do.
For example, I feel burdened by the pervasive expectation that I am writing sci-fi, fantasy, or YA. I want to write realistic (or surrealistic) literary fiction, but I can hardly tell what that means, or how it might be different from more popular genres. I feel disconnected from most online conversations about writing, because I never know when the ideas that float around really pertain to what I'm trying to do. I am used to living on the long tail of culture, but this is one instance when it really starts to grate, and I start ranting about geek cultural hegemony.
And people aren't sold on my novel, they're just sold on the premise. In particular, readers of The Asexual Agenda were excited that I would have an asexual character. This is understandable, since clear asexual characters are extremely rare in fiction, and indeed I wouldn't write asexual characters in if I didn't find the idea exciting myself.
But my mind already skips ahead to a future era. Some day, there will be lots of ace characters in every conceivable medium and genre. And 90% of everything will be crap. I want judgmentalism, discernment. I want stories that are different, even in the hypothetical world where there are lots of things to be different from. I want to talk about what happens in the stories, not just the fact that the stories exist.
Categories:
asexuality,
lgbta,
writing
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
In which I am mean to trolls
Recently, I got one of my first trolls since the comments RSS feed went down. It was rather amusing.
They were saying, asexuality is bullshit. So I responded in a particularly mean way: I asked them to explain their opinions, and then justify them with reasoned arguments. It's funny because your average troll doesn't know how to offer reasoned arguments for shit. This particular troll didn't even seem to understand why it was necessary.
A little background. Given that my blog is not that widely read, and does not have particularly active comment sections, I generally don't attract trolls. The trolls that I do attract, are typically wayward googlers (as I tend to think of them) who found some old page in my archives on the second page of some search term I don't care about. Usually they're just incensed by the topic and don't respond in any way to what I wrote.
Before, other people could theoretically see the trolls' comments via the "recent comments" on the sidebar or following the comments RSS feed. There weren't many readers tracking comments in the first place, but now that these features are broken, the only person who can possibly see the trolls' comments is me, because I alone have access to the moderation queue. If the trolls are trying to get attention, they are doing it in about the least effective way possible.
In short, the only trolls I get are the ones who are thoroughly incompetent.
There are basically four reasons why I might care about a person's opinion:
1. The person has power.
2. I care about the person.
3. The opinion is backed up by arguments.
4. The opinion is succinct, eloquent, novel, or otherwise intrinsically interesting.
In the case of incompetent rando trolls, they don't have power, I don't care about them, they are too incompetent to argue, and too tedious to be interesting. I like to poke at them until they either make coherent arguments or realize they've been wasting their time all along.
Of course, I'm much nicer to commenters who don't appear to be trolling. Even when commenters don't offer supporting arguments for points of disagreement, I at least tend to care about their opinions by #2.
They were saying, asexuality is bullshit. So I responded in a particularly mean way: I asked them to explain their opinions, and then justify them with reasoned arguments. It's funny because your average troll doesn't know how to offer reasoned arguments for shit. This particular troll didn't even seem to understand why it was necessary.
A little background. Given that my blog is not that widely read, and does not have particularly active comment sections, I generally don't attract trolls. The trolls that I do attract, are typically wayward googlers (as I tend to think of them) who found some old page in my archives on the second page of some search term I don't care about. Usually they're just incensed by the topic and don't respond in any way to what I wrote.
Before, other people could theoretically see the trolls' comments via the "recent comments" on the sidebar or following the comments RSS feed. There weren't many readers tracking comments in the first place, but now that these features are broken, the only person who can possibly see the trolls' comments is me, because I alone have access to the moderation queue. If the trolls are trying to get attention, they are doing it in about the least effective way possible.
In short, the only trolls I get are the ones who are thoroughly incompetent.
There are basically four reasons why I might care about a person's opinion:
1. The person has power.
2. I care about the person.
3. The opinion is backed up by arguments.
4. The opinion is succinct, eloquent, novel, or otherwise intrinsically interesting.
In the case of incompetent rando trolls, they don't have power, I don't care about them, they are too incompetent to argue, and too tedious to be interesting. I like to poke at them until they either make coherent arguments or realize they've been wasting their time all along.
Of course, I'm much nicer to commenters who don't appear to be trolling. Even when commenters don't offer supporting arguments for points of disagreement, I at least tend to care about their opinions by #2.
Categories:
asexuality,
blogging,
lgbta,
skepticism
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Feedback on Feedly plug
Last month I was talking about selling RSS to people on Tumblr, so that they might follow things that aren't on Tumblr. This is a fairly small project. I'll simply make a post on Tumblr, and hope that it reaches a lot of people.
Here is a draft of the post. I would appreciate feedback, particularly from people who are new to Feedly. Since I've been using Feedly for years, I don't have a good sense of what might be confusing.
ETA: This project is done. See here.
Here is a draft of the post. I would appreciate feedback, particularly from people who are new to Feedly. Since I've been using Feedly for years, I don't have a good sense of what might be confusing.
Follow Aces in All the Places!And here are the startup packages I'm using:
Isn't it great that Tumblr lets you follow all your friends in one place? Don't you wish you could also follow Wordpress, Youtube, and webcomics in the same place?
There is a way!
Try Feedly. It's a place where you can gather subscriptions to all kinds of websites. You'll need to create a new account, or connect to your Google account, but it's well worth it. (Also see iOS and Android apps.)
FAQ Below
[cut]
How do I add subscriptions?
On the left bar of Feedly, click on "add content". Type the url of the website you want to follow. Then click on the + button to subscribe. It's that simple!
Alternatively, on the website you can look for a link with the word "RSS" or "subscribe", and often the link will let you subscribe on Feedly.
It's too hard to add all these subscriptions one by one!
It's easy to import all the Tumblrs you follow. Go here and download the OPML file. On the left bar of Feedly, click on "Organize". Then click on "Import OPML", and give Feedly the file you just downloaded.
I don't even know who to subscribe to!
Here are a few startup packages. Any of these can be imported by going to the left bar of Feedly, clicking on "Organize" and then "Import OPML".
Terrific Tumblr Aces (thanks to Arf)
Wonderful Wordpress Aces
Yes! Youtube Aces (thanks to Ivy)
Webcomics with Ace Characters
All of the above!
I don't like how everything's mixed together!
On the "Organize" page, you can create separate "collections" for different kinds of things. Then when you browse Feedly, you can read one collection at a time, or everything together. For instance, I keep separate a separate collection of websites that I mostly just skim.
I don't like some of those subscriptions!
On the "Organize" page, you can unsubscribe to subscriptions by clicking on the x next to it.
Feedly is ugly!
Feedly's appearance is more customizable than Tumblr! On the left bar, go to "preferences" and try a different default view. The options are "Titles only", "Magazine", "Cards", and "Full Articles".
Additionally, on the left bar you can try looking at "Themes" to change the colors.
Feedly isn't showing old articles!
That's because Feedly won't show articles you've already read. You can change this in the preferences. Turn off "Hide read posts".
Feedly isn't showing the entire article! And how do I reblog stuff?
If you click on the title of an expanded article on Feedly, it will take you to the original page. You can reblog from there.
I use Tumblr Savior or XKit. Can I use it on Feedly?
For Feedly, you can try an add-on called SPOI Filter. I don't think you can block based on tags, unfortunately.
How do I follow Tumblr tags, reblogs, and asks?
I'm afraid you can't, except on Tumblr. No one ever said you should stop looking at Tumblr. It's just that if you also use Feedly, you can easily follow things outside of Tumblr in the same place.
Wow! How does it work?
Feedly is an RSS reader. RSS stands for "really simple syndication."
You can search for RSS readers and you will find many others with the same function. Some people have suggested Bloglovin, NetNewsWire (for Macs), or Newsify (a Feedly app for mobile).
Many people consider RSS to be old fashioned, and it is. But it's practical! One of the reasons Tumblr is great is because it borrowed ideas from RSS, simplifying it for the masses. My only complaint is that Tumblr is a bit selfish, and only lets you follow Tumblrs. That's why I'm advocating RSS.
I hate Feedly! But I want those startup packages.
Well I tried. You can find the startup packages here [link to be added]. You'll have to follow them one by one.
Terrific Tumblr AcesSince I'm clearly such a Feedly shill, do you think I could get them to pay me anything?
Concept Awesome
Becoming a Person
TL;DR
Wonderful Wordpress Aces
The Asexual Agenda
The Asexual Census Blog
Asexuality Archive
Prismatic Entanglements
The Ace Theist
The Notes Which Do Not Fit
A Life Unexamined
Acing History
Next Step: Cake
Cinderace blogs
Critique of Popular Reason
Cake at the Fortress
YAPBNWECA
The Minus Roots
From Fandom to Family: Sharing my many thoughts
FISTFELT
Asexual Artists
Yes! YouTube Aces
Swankivy
AmeliaAce
Aces Wild
QueerAsCat
Webcomics with Ace Characters
Shades of A
Supernormal Step
Ignition Zero
David Doesn't Get It
Girls With Slingshots
ETA: This project is done. See here.
Categories:
asexuality,
blogging,
lgbta
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Link: on label culture
On The Asexual Agenda, I've written something on ace label culture. An excerpt:
It does not escape my notice that whenever people complain about excessive identity labels on Tumblr, a bunch of the examples given are clearly from ace and aro discourse. For example, Gawker lists demisexuality alongside otherkin and transethnicity. Someone on Urban Dictionary used "gender-fluid asexual heteroromantic two-spirit toast-kin" as an example. Thing of Things, while defending the trend, used "requiessexual bipoetisexual squidgender moongender aroflux lesbian" as an example.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
On Christian stereotypes
As we all know, atheists often get criticized and stereotyped as angry and militant. This precipitates some fairly complex back-and-forth among atheists as to the value of anger.
Christians often get criticized and stereotyped as sex-negative. What does that lead to?
According to Coyote,
I don't know what I can say about this, since it was not my personal experience. Though I was Catholic, I was mostly brought up with a secular sense of morality. I was not particularly aware of sex-negative stereotypes of Catholicism.
But I think this is important, from an atheist perspective. When we criticize religion, we hope to change society for the better. But we don't spend much time observing how Christians really react to our criticisms. We watch people how leave Christianity, and we listen to Christian rebuttals, but we don't pay attention to how it affects Christian cultures.
To me, it feels slightly uncomfortable to know that by criticizing Christianity, we are generating or contributing to stereotypes. I am used to opposing stereotypes.
On the other hand, it's not as if our criticisms of Christianity are insincere or invalid. Many varieties of Christianity have truly hurt people by making them feel ashamed of their sexual behavior. While Coyote interacted with churches which proclaimed the glory of sex, the same churches often only approved of cisgender heterosexual vanilla marital sex. These critiques may cause discomfort to Christians, but that is in the nature of social criticism! It is impossible to effect social change without making some people feel uncomfortable. It is impossible to effect social change without anger, without mockery, without disruption.
Likewise, when people criticize atheists for being too angry or arrogant, they are also being sincere. I do not think people are wrong to criticize just because their criticisms generate atheist stereotypes. I think people are wrong to criticize because the substance of those critiques is lacking.
Nonetheless, it would be helpful if atheist critiques were more responsive to actual Christian views on sex.
It's worth noting that "sex-positive" is sort of like "pro-life", in that there is no one who is "anti-life" and no one who is "sex-negative" (not including feminist reclamations of the term). "Sex-negative" is a pejorative term used by sex-positive people for positions they disagree with. People who we call sex-negative do not actually think sex is negative.
One possible view is that Christians think sex is too special. Having sex with just anyone subtracts from its specialness. It's so special, it must be a gift from God. And since it's a gift from God, that implies that it must be exercised in ways that are to God's liking. And any sexual diversity must be an aberration, because why would God give different gifts to different people, or in some cases give no gifts at all?
Christians often get criticized and stereotyped as sex-negative. What does that lead to?
According to Coyote,
I’ve seen a lot of Christians overemphasizing the greatness of sex as a way to distance themselves from the prudish stereotype, clearly nursing a wound without realizing how it got there.This narrative was also supported by a church e-mail project, wherein Coyote e-mailed a bunch of churches to ask how they felt about asexuality, celibacy, and nonsexual marriages.
[...]
When Christians talk about sex — not about sexual purity or sexual immorality, but about sex itself — many of them talk as if to desperately reassure themselves and everyone listening that sex is not always sinful, which usually (always) ends up with them glorifying and sanctifying it and calling it a “gift from God” [...]
I don't know what I can say about this, since it was not my personal experience. Though I was Catholic, I was mostly brought up with a secular sense of morality. I was not particularly aware of sex-negative stereotypes of Catholicism.
But I think this is important, from an atheist perspective. When we criticize religion, we hope to change society for the better. But we don't spend much time observing how Christians really react to our criticisms. We watch people how leave Christianity, and we listen to Christian rebuttals, but we don't pay attention to how it affects Christian cultures.
To me, it feels slightly uncomfortable to know that by criticizing Christianity, we are generating or contributing to stereotypes. I am used to opposing stereotypes.
On the other hand, it's not as if our criticisms of Christianity are insincere or invalid. Many varieties of Christianity have truly hurt people by making them feel ashamed of their sexual behavior. While Coyote interacted with churches which proclaimed the glory of sex, the same churches often only approved of cisgender heterosexual vanilla marital sex. These critiques may cause discomfort to Christians, but that is in the nature of social criticism! It is impossible to effect social change without making some people feel uncomfortable. It is impossible to effect social change without anger, without mockery, without disruption.
Likewise, when people criticize atheists for being too angry or arrogant, they are also being sincere. I do not think people are wrong to criticize just because their criticisms generate atheist stereotypes. I think people are wrong to criticize because the substance of those critiques is lacking.
Nonetheless, it would be helpful if atheist critiques were more responsive to actual Christian views on sex.
It's worth noting that "sex-positive" is sort of like "pro-life", in that there is no one who is "anti-life" and no one who is "sex-negative" (not including feminist reclamations of the term). "Sex-negative" is a pejorative term used by sex-positive people for positions they disagree with. People who we call sex-negative do not actually think sex is negative.
One possible view is that Christians think sex is too special. Having sex with just anyone subtracts from its specialness. It's so special, it must be a gift from God. And since it's a gift from God, that implies that it must be exercised in ways that are to God's liking. And any sexual diversity must be an aberration, because why would God give different gifts to different people, or in some cases give no gifts at all?
Categories:
asexuality,
lgbta,
religion
Monday, March 9, 2015
Why are there so few asexual men?
This post was cross-posted to The Asexual Agenda.
In my analysis of the 2014 AVEN Survey of online asexual communities, I showed that only 12% of aces (aces = people on the asexual spectrum) are men. The fraction of asexuals who are men is similar.* Someone asked me why that is, and I thought I'd make my answer public.
*This particular datum hasn't been reported, but I have the data right in front of me, so you'll have to take my word for it.
Extant data
In a community survey of AVEN in 2008, 28% of asexuals were men. Another community survey in 2011 reported 13% of aces were men. A Spanish-language community survey in 2013 reports that 36% of asexuals were assigned male at birth.
These are all community surveys conducted online, and they only tell us about people in the various online communities. They do not tell us about asexuals or asexual-spectrum people in general.
However, there was also an academic study conducted in 2004, based on a national probability sample in the UK in 1994. In that study 35% of asexuals were men. In theory, this should tell us about asexuals in general, although there are many reasons to worry about systematic biases.
Hypotheses
1. Asexuality contradicts certain ideas of what men are supposed to be like. For example, men might be expected to be hypersexual, or they might be expected not to talk about personal feelings. This may make men less likely to acknowledge that they are ace. Although I could also imagine a world where this makes men more likely to realize they are different.
2. People with penises might think they simply can't be ace. I mean, most of these people get erections, and rates of masturbation are generally higher. Even though these characteristics are compatible with asexuality, it may stop people from identifying with it.
3. Men are expected to initiate. So if you're an ace woman, you can expect lots of bothersome unwanted solicitations. If you're an ace man, you can just try not to think about it too hard.
4. Maybe it's really less common amongst men. Who can say?
5. There could be a networking effect. In the 2014 AVEN survey, non-ace people (i.e. those not on the asexual spectrum) were encouraged to respond. The non-ace respondents are not representative of the general population, but come from "near" the ace community (predominantly Tumblr). 17.5% of the non-ace respondents were men, which is somewhat more than the ace respondents, but still quite low.
The theory is that there are many spaces, such as Tumblr, which are for whatever reason more popular among women than men. Because the asexual community is made up mostly of women, they will gravitate towards those spaces, generating more of a presence, and attracting even more women.
6. Even if men are identifying as asexual at rates comparable to women, it could be that they're less likely to stay in the community for as long. Possibly they feel less need for the community because they have fewer problems to deal with. Alternatively, they experience more problems to deal with, within the community.
Further reading
For perspectives on the experiences of asexual men, I recommend the Asexual Archive, The Thinking Asexual, and some stuff I've written.
In my analysis of the 2014 AVEN Survey of online asexual communities, I showed that only 12% of aces (aces = people on the asexual spectrum) are men. The fraction of asexuals who are men is similar.* Someone asked me why that is, and I thought I'd make my answer public.
*This particular datum hasn't been reported, but I have the data right in front of me, so you'll have to take my word for it.
Extant data
In a community survey of AVEN in 2008, 28% of asexuals were men. Another community survey in 2011 reported 13% of aces were men. A Spanish-language community survey in 2013 reports that 36% of asexuals were assigned male at birth.
These are all community surveys conducted online, and they only tell us about people in the various online communities. They do not tell us about asexuals or asexual-spectrum people in general.
However, there was also an academic study conducted in 2004, based on a national probability sample in the UK in 1994. In that study 35% of asexuals were men. In theory, this should tell us about asexuals in general, although there are many reasons to worry about systematic biases.
Hypotheses
1. Asexuality contradicts certain ideas of what men are supposed to be like. For example, men might be expected to be hypersexual, or they might be expected not to talk about personal feelings. This may make men less likely to acknowledge that they are ace. Although I could also imagine a world where this makes men more likely to realize they are different.
2. People with penises might think they simply can't be ace. I mean, most of these people get erections, and rates of masturbation are generally higher. Even though these characteristics are compatible with asexuality, it may stop people from identifying with it.
3. Men are expected to initiate. So if you're an ace woman, you can expect lots of bothersome unwanted solicitations. If you're an ace man, you can just try not to think about it too hard.
4. Maybe it's really less common amongst men. Who can say?
5. There could be a networking effect. In the 2014 AVEN survey, non-ace people (i.e. those not on the asexual spectrum) were encouraged to respond. The non-ace respondents are not representative of the general population, but come from "near" the ace community (predominantly Tumblr). 17.5% of the non-ace respondents were men, which is somewhat more than the ace respondents, but still quite low.
The theory is that there are many spaces, such as Tumblr, which are for whatever reason more popular among women than men. Because the asexual community is made up mostly of women, they will gravitate towards those spaces, generating more of a presence, and attracting even more women.
6. Even if men are identifying as asexual at rates comparable to women, it could be that they're less likely to stay in the community for as long. Possibly they feel less need for the community because they have fewer problems to deal with. Alternatively, they experience more problems to deal with, within the community.
Further reading
For perspectives on the experiences of asexual men, I recommend the Asexual Archive, The Thinking Asexual, and some stuff I've written.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Plugging my amateur social science
Have I ever mentioned that I volunteer for the AVEN survey? It's a big community survey of people in the ace community, launched last October, and hopefully conducted annually thereafter. We got about 11,000 ace respondents.
We published some preliminary results, and we're currently working on further data analysis to be published on our blog. The analysis will all be published in a complete report at a later date, but the blog helps me focus on one step at a time.
Most recently, I published a bit of analysis regarding people's gender histories (under the name Siggy). I'm particularly proud of this chart, which I made in Adobe Illustrator:
We published some preliminary results, and we're currently working on further data analysis to be published on our blog. The analysis will all be published in a complete report at a later date, but the blog helps me focus on one step at a time.
Most recently, I published a bit of analysis regarding people's gender histories (under the name Siggy). I'm particularly proud of this chart, which I made in Adobe Illustrator:
The above graphic shows the prevalence of different gender histories in the ace community, with the thickness of each line proportional to the size of the group. The color indicates the percentage of people who identify as trans. For the purposes of the color scale, trans people and people unsure whether they identify as trans were lumped together. Note that "history" does not necessarily mean that people's gender changed over time; [sex assigned at birth] may or may not reflect a person's gender at birth.Most of the other graphs I make aren't nearly so fancy.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Merging discourses on sexual repression
Content warning: this post deals with some uncomfortable issues regarding people who are or think they are sexually repressed.
In a recent post on The Asexual Agenda, I discussed how it is okay to identify as asexual even if you feel your asexuality was caused by some identifiable reason. Among the reasons that people commonly identify is sexual repression, particularly from a religious upbringing.
There is a similar common narrative among atheists. For example, Libby Anne said that she used to be "sexually suppressed and extinguished" by religious purity culture, and that she was "essentially asexual". For thousands more examples, there was an informal study conducted by Darrel Ray (see Greta for a summary), which concluded that leaving religion improves people's sex lives.
These two discourses are in conflict about their valuation of sexual repression.
Asexual discourse is essentially reacting to the accusation that asexuals are sexually repressed. Some have reacted by asserting that asexuals aren't sexually repressed. Some have probed the meaning of sexual repression, and questioned whether it exists at all. Some have questioned whether sexual repression is necessarily a bad thing, even if we acknowledge that its source, religious purity culture, is bad.
Atheist discourse is primarily geared towards criticizing problems with religion and recovering from religion. Sexual repression caused by religion is a problem to be overcome. There is no reason to look for any positive or neutral aspects in repression, or to probe its meaning. For example, Darrel Ray's Sex and Secularism report claims that sexual repression is ineffective at actually reducing sexual activity (although it tends to slightly delay it), and that the primary effect is that people feel guiltier about their sexual behavior. This is pretty damning, because even if you believe that it's good to reduce sexual behavior, repression seems ineffective in achieving that.
I would like for atheists and asexuals to listen to each other more. However, on reflection I think asexuals are already listening to atheists. After all, most people in the asexual community are non-religious themselves, and I found Libby Anne's article (as well as others) through ace community discussions. So really I should say, I would like atheists to listen to asexuals more.
There are many questions which get asked by aces, which are never addressed by atheists. Questions with no straightforward answers.
What does it really mean to be sexually repressed? In some cases, it appears to mean only that a person has sexual desires, but feels too guilty to act upon them. In other cases, like Libby Anne's, it appears to mean lacking sexual desires. If one has no sexual fantasies or desires, how does one know that one's "true" self is the counterfactual self, the one with fantasies and desires?
How do we know that repression is bad? Though religion may be bad, there is no reason to think that all of its consequences are uniformly bad. I accept that guilt is bad, especially when it has no positive effect on one's behavior. Lack of sexual desire or attraction, though, is more subjective. It may cause relationship problems, and it may cause personal distress. There are some people who overcome sexual repression and subjectively feel that it is an improvement in their lives. But are these problems inherent to ourselves, or inherent to the way society is structured (or both)?
How do we know it can be changed? Yes, we've heard stories of people who have successfully overcome sexual repression. But I've heard plenty of stories of people who tried and failed. It often constitutes a form of self-harm, as people try to have sex in hopes of "fixing" themselves. And since sexuality is a spectrum, there are people who try and end up landing in the middle.
How do we distinguish between attempts that will fail, and attempts that will succeed? This is an empirical question.
If you are recovering from religion, and its effects on your sexuality, your experience is valid. You only need to come to terms with your own experience, and you don't need to answer to anyone else's experiences. You don't need to have answers to the questions I've posed. Nonetheless, I think these are questions that the atheist community should think seriously about.
(Aside: If you looked at Darrel Ray's study, I have an important comment to make. Darrel Ray hypothesizes that people who grow up religious and then become non-religious still have residual guilt. This hypothesis is of great interest to asexuals who think they may have been affected by religious upbringing. Darrel Ray claims to disprove the hypothesis. However, the associated survey question was, "How much anger do you experience towards religion because of how it affected your sexuality?" which simply appears not to address the hypothesis. Therefore, I am skeptical of his conclusion, and have ignored it.)
In a recent post on The Asexual Agenda, I discussed how it is okay to identify as asexual even if you feel your asexuality was caused by some identifiable reason. Among the reasons that people commonly identify is sexual repression, particularly from a religious upbringing.
There is a similar common narrative among atheists. For example, Libby Anne said that she used to be "sexually suppressed and extinguished" by religious purity culture, and that she was "essentially asexual". For thousands more examples, there was an informal study conducted by Darrel Ray (see Greta for a summary), which concluded that leaving religion improves people's sex lives.
These two discourses are in conflict about their valuation of sexual repression.
Asexual discourse is essentially reacting to the accusation that asexuals are sexually repressed. Some have reacted by asserting that asexuals aren't sexually repressed. Some have probed the meaning of sexual repression, and questioned whether it exists at all. Some have questioned whether sexual repression is necessarily a bad thing, even if we acknowledge that its source, religious purity culture, is bad.
Atheist discourse is primarily geared towards criticizing problems with religion and recovering from religion. Sexual repression caused by religion is a problem to be overcome. There is no reason to look for any positive or neutral aspects in repression, or to probe its meaning. For example, Darrel Ray's Sex and Secularism report claims that sexual repression is ineffective at actually reducing sexual activity (although it tends to slightly delay it), and that the primary effect is that people feel guiltier about their sexual behavior. This is pretty damning, because even if you believe that it's good to reduce sexual behavior, repression seems ineffective in achieving that.
I would like for atheists and asexuals to listen to each other more. However, on reflection I think asexuals are already listening to atheists. After all, most people in the asexual community are non-religious themselves, and I found Libby Anne's article (as well as others) through ace community discussions. So really I should say, I would like atheists to listen to asexuals more.
There are many questions which get asked by aces, which are never addressed by atheists. Questions with no straightforward answers.
What does it really mean to be sexually repressed? In some cases, it appears to mean only that a person has sexual desires, but feels too guilty to act upon them. In other cases, like Libby Anne's, it appears to mean lacking sexual desires. If one has no sexual fantasies or desires, how does one know that one's "true" self is the counterfactual self, the one with fantasies and desires?
How do we know that repression is bad? Though religion may be bad, there is no reason to think that all of its consequences are uniformly bad. I accept that guilt is bad, especially when it has no positive effect on one's behavior. Lack of sexual desire or attraction, though, is more subjective. It may cause relationship problems, and it may cause personal distress. There are some people who overcome sexual repression and subjectively feel that it is an improvement in their lives. But are these problems inherent to ourselves, or inherent to the way society is structured (or both)?
How do we know it can be changed? Yes, we've heard stories of people who have successfully overcome sexual repression. But I've heard plenty of stories of people who tried and failed. It often constitutes a form of self-harm, as people try to have sex in hopes of "fixing" themselves. And since sexuality is a spectrum, there are people who try and end up landing in the middle.
How do we distinguish between attempts that will fail, and attempts that will succeed? This is an empirical question.
If you are recovering from religion, and its effects on your sexuality, your experience is valid. You only need to come to terms with your own experience, and you don't need to answer to anyone else's experiences. You don't need to have answers to the questions I've posed. Nonetheless, I think these are questions that the atheist community should think seriously about.
(Aside: If you looked at Darrel Ray's study, I have an important comment to make. Darrel Ray hypothesizes that people who grow up religious and then become non-religious still have residual guilt. This hypothesis is of great interest to asexuals who think they may have been affected by religious upbringing. Darrel Ray claims to disprove the hypothesis. However, the associated survey question was, "How much anger do you experience towards religion because of how it affected your sexuality?" which simply appears not to address the hypothesis. Therefore, I am skeptical of his conclusion, and have ignored it.)
Categories:
asexuality,
atheism,
lgbta,
religion
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Asexual, because reasons
I wrote the following for The Asexual Agenda. As usual, I target these at an asexual-spectrum audience, but I like the essay enough to share.
There’s a common theme among people questioning whether they’re asexual. What if I’m really this way just because of _____? Replace the blank with “trauma”, “hormones”, “medication”, “my age”, “gender dysphoria”, “abuse”, “anxiety”, “repression”, or “upbringing”.
Even if you’re sure you don’t experience sexual attraction, if the reason you don’t experience it is due to any of the above, your claim to the identity becomes contested. The only universally accepted reason to identify as asexual if it’s “just the way you are”.
Philosophically, this drives me up the wall, because “it’s just the way you are” is not really a reason. It’s an admission that no one knows the reason. Suppose we discovered that 60% of aces are that way because they were subject to larger amounts of a particular brain chemical at the age seven. Would that mean that those 60% are no longer “really” ace? Would that be a case of SCIENCE disproving 60% of asexuality?
Who cares what the reason is? Does it make a difference to your lived experience? Does asexuality-because-hormones feel any different from asexuality-because-genes? If you don’t know whether your asexuality has anything to do with hormones, does that put your experience of sexual attraction into a quantum state?
However, the answer to “who cares?” is you care. And I care. If people just didn’t care, then Alok wouldn’t have written that essay, people wouldn’t ask Asexual Advice for advice, and nobody on AVEN would ever talk about it. Let’s think hard about why people care.
1. The “real” you
Many of the “causes” I mentioned appear as external forces, which could push you away from the “real” you. For example, if I’m asexual and taking antidepressants, would the “real” me, who is not on antidepressants, not be asexual? Of course, then the “real” me would also be depressed. The question is not, “Who is the real me?” it’s, “Who do I want to be?”
2. A product of error
If one’s asexuality is the product of something like horrible, such as trauma, that feels deeply uncomfortable. How can I celebrate my orientation when it may have been caused by something so terrible?
You are free to celebrate your feelings or not. However, always remember that neutral and good things can come out of bad. For example, I had parents who argued all the time, and that was bad. But I also learned to be good at conflict resolution, and I can still celebrate that consequence.
3. Unaddressed problems
If you think you’re asexual because of anxiety, or because of hormones, you might worry that by identifying as asexual, you’re ignoring the real problems in your life, whether those problems are social or medical.
Although, I haven’t heard any cases where an asexual identity caused people to ignore their other problems. If you’re worried about unaddressed problems, an asexual identity doesn’t require you to stop addressing them.
4. Predicting the future
What if it later turns out I’m wrong? What if it’s due to my gender dysphoria and I stop feeling asexual when I transition? What if it’s due to “repression”, whatever that means, and I stop feeling asexual when I’m no longer repressed? What if it’s due to my age, and I stop feeling the same way in a few years?
The future is scary, and there’s little I can say to make it less scary, since it’s not like I can predict the future. If you’re worried that tomorrow you will stop feeling asexual, you’re welcome to take a day to think it over. If you’re worried that it will happen over the next few years, I can’t tell you what to do with that. You may either give it time, or you can take your experience as it is now.
5. But other people are saying I can’t be ace…
They’re not the boss of you. It’s your choice to make.
And although I offer reasons why you may still identify as ace, you may also ultimately decide that an ace identity is too uncomfortable. I respect that, because it is your choice to make.
I grew up in a family that never talked about sex or even really relationships and intimacy. Of course I was still surrounded by sex in media, my peers, etc, but I never got “the talk” or had any discussions about sex within my household. My therapist wanted me to consider if that could have influenced my disinterest in sex and lack of sexual attraction.–Seen on AVEN
I don’t feel sexual attraction to people but I know my antidepressants repress my sex drive so I don’t know what I feel naturally and what’s been taken away from me if that makes sense.–A question seen on Asexual Advice
In a world that continually erases Asian (male assigned) sexualities I was coerced into asexuality. It is something I have and will continue to struggle with. My asexuality is a site of racial trauma. I want that sadness, that loss, that anxiety to be a part of asexuality politics. I don’t want to be proud or affirmed […]–Alok Vaid-Menon
There’s a common theme among people questioning whether they’re asexual. What if I’m really this way just because of _____? Replace the blank with “trauma”, “hormones”, “medication”, “my age”, “gender dysphoria”, “abuse”, “anxiety”, “repression”, or “upbringing”.
Even if you’re sure you don’t experience sexual attraction, if the reason you don’t experience it is due to any of the above, your claim to the identity becomes contested. The only universally accepted reason to identify as asexual if it’s “just the way you are”.
Philosophically, this drives me up the wall, because “it’s just the way you are” is not really a reason. It’s an admission that no one knows the reason. Suppose we discovered that 60% of aces are that way because they were subject to larger amounts of a particular brain chemical at the age seven. Would that mean that those 60% are no longer “really” ace? Would that be a case of SCIENCE disproving 60% of asexuality?
Who cares what the reason is? Does it make a difference to your lived experience? Does asexuality-because-hormones feel any different from asexuality-because-genes? If you don’t know whether your asexuality has anything to do with hormones, does that put your experience of sexual attraction into a quantum state?
However, the answer to “who cares?” is you care. And I care. If people just didn’t care, then Alok wouldn’t have written that essay, people wouldn’t ask Asexual Advice for advice, and nobody on AVEN would ever talk about it. Let’s think hard about why people care.
1. The “real” you
Many of the “causes” I mentioned appear as external forces, which could push you away from the “real” you. For example, if I’m asexual and taking antidepressants, would the “real” me, who is not on antidepressants, not be asexual? Of course, then the “real” me would also be depressed. The question is not, “Who is the real me?” it’s, “Who do I want to be?”
2. A product of error
If one’s asexuality is the product of something like horrible, such as trauma, that feels deeply uncomfortable. How can I celebrate my orientation when it may have been caused by something so terrible?
You are free to celebrate your feelings or not. However, always remember that neutral and good things can come out of bad. For example, I had parents who argued all the time, and that was bad. But I also learned to be good at conflict resolution, and I can still celebrate that consequence.
3. Unaddressed problems
If you think you’re asexual because of anxiety, or because of hormones, you might worry that by identifying as asexual, you’re ignoring the real problems in your life, whether those problems are social or medical.
Although, I haven’t heard any cases where an asexual identity caused people to ignore their other problems. If you’re worried about unaddressed problems, an asexual identity doesn’t require you to stop addressing them.
4. Predicting the future
What if it later turns out I’m wrong? What if it’s due to my gender dysphoria and I stop feeling asexual when I transition? What if it’s due to “repression”, whatever that means, and I stop feeling asexual when I’m no longer repressed? What if it’s due to my age, and I stop feeling the same way in a few years?
The future is scary, and there’s little I can say to make it less scary, since it’s not like I can predict the future. If you’re worried that tomorrow you will stop feeling asexual, you’re welcome to take a day to think it over. If you’re worried that it will happen over the next few years, I can’t tell you what to do with that. You may either give it time, or you can take your experience as it is now.
5. But other people are saying I can’t be ace…
They’re not the boss of you. It’s your choice to make.
And although I offer reasons why you may still identify as ace, you may also ultimately decide that an ace identity is too uncomfortable. I respect that, because it is your choice to make.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
The nightmarish collision of FTB and Tumblr
Here's a video of our panel last night:
We also got this reaction from Thunderf00t:
I'm so proud.
FTBCon is still going, with lots of good stuff on the way!
We also got this reaction from Thunderf00t:
the 'freethoughtblogs' conference FTBcon3 is in full swing.It REALLY is the nightmarish collision of FTB and tumblr!Thunderf00t's tweet led to about 30 dislikes on our video plus a few troll comments (now deleted). See Lousy Canuck for details.
I'm so proud.
FTBCon is still going, with lots of good stuff on the way!
Categories:
asexuality,
atheism,
lgbta,
news
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
I will be in FTBCon3
FTBCon is a free online atheist conference affiliated with Freethought Blogs.
I will be on a panel, "Asexual Spectrum Atheists", on this Friday, 9pm CST. You can watch the panel here, but I also recommend tracking the conference as a whole.
If you're not sure which panelist I am, I'm the only male panelist.
Update: The archived video is here on YouTube or here on Google+!
I will be on a panel, "Asexual Spectrum Atheists", on this Friday, 9pm CST. You can watch the panel here, but I also recommend tracking the conference as a whole.
If you're not sure which panelist I am, I'm the only male panelist.
Update: The archived video is here on YouTube or here on Google+!
Categories:
asexuality,
atheism,
lgbta,
news
Friday, December 5, 2014
Julia Serano's "marked groups"
Generalizing about social movements
The other week I saw a talk by Julia Serano, author of Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity!, and Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive. She also has a super sweet blog.
This particular talk was based on Excluded, which is about the way that minority movements exclude other minorities. Feminists have a history of excluding lesbians. The gay movement has a history of excluding women. Both of those movements have a history of excluding people of color. And then moving on from that, feminists have a poor track record with transgender people, gay/lesbian people have a poor track record with bisexuals, and so on and so on.
Julia Serano draws from her personal experience as a bisexual femme tomboy transsexual woman. Since she's part of several different groups which have been excluded, she hopes to make some general theories about how the exclusion operates, and how to combat it.
I am totally in favor of this conversation, since it's something I often talk about myself. I started out as an atheist activist, and then became an asexual activist, and I've found it very interesting to compare and contrast. However, I'm a little less optimistic about making broad generalizations, because it seems to me that bisexuality, transgender, and femme issues, despite being very different, are basically nextdoor neighbors. Atheism isn't even on the same block. And what happens when we consider other minority groups, such as poor people, criminals, people attracted to minors, or people in poor countries?
For example, one strategy Julia Serano advocated was unification. Feminists thought gender was everything and ignored LG issues, and LG activists thought sexual orientation was everything and ignored women's issues. If the movements had been more unified, they would have avoided this problem. But should every pair of issues be unified, just because some people are affected by both problems? What about the disadvantages of unification, such as when a broader umbrella causes more group-specific issues to get lost?
This is not to say that we shouldn't try to make general theories. I think even when these ideas turn out to be wrong, they don't cause much harm, and instead lead to lovely discussions.
Marked and invisible groups
Julia Serano presented at least one idea that I thought might be widely applicable. She proposed the idea of a "marked group" vs an "unmarked group". For instance, transgender people are marked, and people who are not transgender are just considered "normal". When a group is marked, they are "sticky", in that stereotypes, assumptions, and everything tend to stick to that group. When a group is unmarked, we don't think of them as a unified group at all.
Thus, the term "cisgender", to label people who aren't transgender. Now, if we want, we can think of cisgender people as a marked group of their own, removing some of the conceptual disparity between cis and trans people. Of course, trans people remain as the marked group, and a minor change in language can only do so much to counteract that.
Here's why I think the idea of a marked group is generalizable: It even applies to careers. I'm a physicist, and that marks me as different in many contexts. People tend to assume that I know all about cosmology and want to talk about it. People assume I'm really smart and that I cultivate a secular spirituality. Of course, this is not a very strong marking, and the assumptions people make aren't particularly bad ones. But it's easy to see how the same processes can go wrong when a group is more strongly marked, and the assumptions more negative.
Consider another group, asexuals. Are asexuals marked the way that transgender people are? For the most part, asexuals are invisible, which is like the polar opposite of marked.
On her blog, Julia Serano has discussed the way that activist language changes over time, primarily so that people can avoid being stuck with "bad" words. Serano imagines that once the groups are no longer marginalized, the language will stop changing so quickly. This stands in contrast with asexual language, which seems to change radically every five years. Asexual language does not develop to replace bad words. Instead, people coin words to describe experiences that they feel people haven't talked about enough.
In a way, asexuals are voluntarily marking themselves, and marking their various experiences. This is not without its disadvantages. It may lead to stereotyping. Perhaps one day it will allow a more coherent anti-asexual movement. But these are still preferable to invisibility and obscurity.
Serano has also talked about the way that activist movements change strategies over time in response to the changing context. What's adaptive in one generation can be maladaptive in another. She recommends embracing ambivalence--"recognizing that certain ideas or objects may simultaneously posses both good and bad qualities, especially depending upon the context in which they occur." I suggest that we should also embrace ambivalence with respect to being marked or unmarked.
The other week I saw a talk by Julia Serano, author of Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity!, and Excluded: Making Feminist and Queer Movements More Inclusive. She also has a super sweet blog.
This particular talk was based on Excluded, which is about the way that minority movements exclude other minorities. Feminists have a history of excluding lesbians. The gay movement has a history of excluding women. Both of those movements have a history of excluding people of color. And then moving on from that, feminists have a poor track record with transgender people, gay/lesbian people have a poor track record with bisexuals, and so on and so on.
Julia Serano draws from her personal experience as a bisexual femme tomboy transsexual woman. Since she's part of several different groups which have been excluded, she hopes to make some general theories about how the exclusion operates, and how to combat it.
I am totally in favor of this conversation, since it's something I often talk about myself. I started out as an atheist activist, and then became an asexual activist, and I've found it very interesting to compare and contrast. However, I'm a little less optimistic about making broad generalizations, because it seems to me that bisexuality, transgender, and femme issues, despite being very different, are basically nextdoor neighbors. Atheism isn't even on the same block. And what happens when we consider other minority groups, such as poor people, criminals, people attracted to minors, or people in poor countries?
For example, one strategy Julia Serano advocated was unification. Feminists thought gender was everything and ignored LG issues, and LG activists thought sexual orientation was everything and ignored women's issues. If the movements had been more unified, they would have avoided this problem. But should every pair of issues be unified, just because some people are affected by both problems? What about the disadvantages of unification, such as when a broader umbrella causes more group-specific issues to get lost?
This is not to say that we shouldn't try to make general theories. I think even when these ideas turn out to be wrong, they don't cause much harm, and instead lead to lovely discussions.
Marked and invisible groups
Julia Serano presented at least one idea that I thought might be widely applicable. She proposed the idea of a "marked group" vs an "unmarked group". For instance, transgender people are marked, and people who are not transgender are just considered "normal". When a group is marked, they are "sticky", in that stereotypes, assumptions, and everything tend to stick to that group. When a group is unmarked, we don't think of them as a unified group at all.
Thus, the term "cisgender", to label people who aren't transgender. Now, if we want, we can think of cisgender people as a marked group of their own, removing some of the conceptual disparity between cis and trans people. Of course, trans people remain as the marked group, and a minor change in language can only do so much to counteract that.
Here's why I think the idea of a marked group is generalizable: It even applies to careers. I'm a physicist, and that marks me as different in many contexts. People tend to assume that I know all about cosmology and want to talk about it. People assume I'm really smart and that I cultivate a secular spirituality. Of course, this is not a very strong marking, and the assumptions people make aren't particularly bad ones. But it's easy to see how the same processes can go wrong when a group is more strongly marked, and the assumptions more negative.
Consider another group, asexuals. Are asexuals marked the way that transgender people are? For the most part, asexuals are invisible, which is like the polar opposite of marked.
On her blog, Julia Serano has discussed the way that activist language changes over time, primarily so that people can avoid being stuck with "bad" words. Serano imagines that once the groups are no longer marginalized, the language will stop changing so quickly. This stands in contrast with asexual language, which seems to change radically every five years. Asexual language does not develop to replace bad words. Instead, people coin words to describe experiences that they feel people haven't talked about enough.
In a way, asexuals are voluntarily marking themselves, and marking their various experiences. This is not without its disadvantages. It may lead to stereotyping. Perhaps one day it will allow a more coherent anti-asexual movement. But these are still preferable to invisibility and obscurity.
Serano has also talked about the way that activist movements change strategies over time in response to the changing context. What's adaptive in one generation can be maladaptive in another. She recommends embracing ambivalence--"recognizing that certain ideas or objects may simultaneously posses both good and bad qualities, especially depending upon the context in which they occur." I suggest that we should also embrace ambivalence with respect to being marked or unmarked.
Categories:
asexuality,
lgbta,
real life
Monday, November 17, 2014
How identity is like a democracy
This was cross-posted to The Asexual Agenda. I always end up writing these essays which almost exclusively concern people in the asexual community, but I thought readers here might find it interesting since it applies to identity politics more generally.
Why do the kids these days have so many words and identity labels?
That's the question we ask year after year. But isn't that funny? If it's the same thing year after year, why does it seem like kids these days are especially bad about it?
It's certainly true that some years provide more fertile ground for words than others. For example, there were a lot more new asexuality-related words in the years 2000-2010 than in the years 1990-2000.
But a lot of the perceived change is an illusion. Previous generations also had lots of words and identity labels. Some of those words became established, and now you take them for granted (eg hetero-/bi-/pan-/homo- romantic, gray-A, demisexual). But for every successful word, there were a dozen unsuccessful words. You don't see them anymore, because they died.
I can provide many examples, being on AVEN since 2009, and having read a lot of community history. There were the "sensual" orientations, such as homosensual, etc. There was primary and secondary romantic and sexual attraction (ugh). There were all the alternatives for gray-A and demisexual. There were the concepts of "gay asexual" or "straight asexual", which were synonyms for romantic orientation. And a bunch of other terms that failed so quickly that they're hardly worth mentioning or remembering.
You might think of words as having definitions, a collection of necessary and sufficient conditions. But first and foremost, words are tools. We don't adopt words merely because they apply to us, we adopt them if we find them useful.
Here are some of the things identity labels are useful for:
That's why, when words become unpopular, they don't just die a little. They die completely. Most people just don't have a use for an unpopular label.
Using an identity label is like voting for it.
When you adopt a word, you are saying, "This word is useful to me." And you are also giving the word more power. You are opening up new ways to use the word. And this is a good thing, because it means that the best words, the ones that most people find useful, become the successful ones. The ones that people do not find useful become unsuccessful.
Crucial to this process is the freedom to vote. People need the freedom to determine if a label is useful to them, or if it is not useful to them, independently of whether the label technically describes them. If people are required to use a word just because it describes them, then this would ruin the whole process and lead to the creation of bad terms that we all use but no one likes.
It's certainly acceptable to campaign for or against a word. Many established words became successful because someone campaigned for them. For example, "demisexual" originally had success because AVEN user OwlSaint campaigned relentlessly for it circa 2008. And I've campaigned against words before, like the primary/secondary attraction mentioned earlier.
On the other hand, there are certain campaign strategies that seem unfair. For example, it seems unfair to outright tell people, "You shouldn't use that word," or, "Sounds like you're ____," especially when you're saying it to baby aces who see you as an authority figure. You should be teaching baby aces how to vote, not telling them which way to vote.
I also think it's unfair to go straight to the public and use new words in visibility efforts. That's taking too many shortcuts, and you may just be advocating a word that will die later on. But there is a large gray area here. In my history of doing presentations, I've been far too conservative, hesitating to use words that later became much more popular.
...
Once a word becomes established, it may stick around for a long time. But that doesn't mean that there is no longer anything to vote on.
We also vote on the meanings of words.
The asexual community is especially prone to thinking that words have clear definitions with necessary and sufficient conditions, because that's the way the word "asexual" is usually presented. In fact, this idea is widely rejected in cognitive science and philosophy of language. Most words don't have necessary and sufficient conditions, they have "prototypes". Whether something belongs to a class or not depends on how similar it is to the prototype. Stereotypes are basically a kind of prototype, so when people complain about stereotypes, they're trying to broaden a word away from a particular prototype.
The result of all this, is that words can be fluid. Definitions are attempts to pin down the meanings of words, which is an extremely useful thing to do. But definitions are not the ultimate reality of what those words mean.
In particular, there is always a lot of negotiation of the boundaries between words. For example, if you experience just a tiny bit of sexual attraction, how much is needed to push you from asexual to gray-A? If you yourself are on that boundary, that's for you to decide!
Just as we need the freedom to vote on which words to use, we also need the freedom to vote on what they mean. Therefore, people should feel free to use a word even if by your preferred definition, that word does not describe them. This allows us, as a community, to negotiate what are the best meanings for existing words.
This democratic process is the way that our language has been created. Please continue voting!
Why do the kids these days have so many words and identity labels?
That's the question we ask year after year. But isn't that funny? If it's the same thing year after year, why does it seem like kids these days are especially bad about it?
It's certainly true that some years provide more fertile ground for words than others. For example, there were a lot more new asexuality-related words in the years 2000-2010 than in the years 1990-2000.
But a lot of the perceived change is an illusion. Previous generations also had lots of words and identity labels. Some of those words became established, and now you take them for granted (eg hetero-/bi-/pan-/homo- romantic, gray-A, demisexual). But for every successful word, there were a dozen unsuccessful words. You don't see them anymore, because they died.
I can provide many examples, being on AVEN since 2009, and having read a lot of community history. There were the "sensual" orientations, such as homosensual, etc. There was primary and secondary romantic and sexual attraction (ugh). There were all the alternatives for gray-A and demisexual. There were the concepts of "gay asexual" or "straight asexual", which were synonyms for romantic orientation. And a bunch of other terms that failed so quickly that they're hardly worth mentioning or remembering.
You might think of words as having definitions, a collection of necessary and sufficient conditions. But first and foremost, words are tools. We don't adopt words merely because they apply to us, we adopt them if we find them useful.
Here are some of the things identity labels are useful for:
- Identifying something about yourself, so that you may better understand it.
- Feeling like you share an experience with other people who also use the word.
- A tag to collect similar discussion.
- A way to communicate something about yourself.
- A rallying call for a community or social movement.
That's why, when words become unpopular, they don't just die a little. They die completely. Most people just don't have a use for an unpopular label.
Using an identity label is like voting for it.
When you adopt a word, you are saying, "This word is useful to me." And you are also giving the word more power. You are opening up new ways to use the word. And this is a good thing, because it means that the best words, the ones that most people find useful, become the successful ones. The ones that people do not find useful become unsuccessful.
Crucial to this process is the freedom to vote. People need the freedom to determine if a label is useful to them, or if it is not useful to them, independently of whether the label technically describes them. If people are required to use a word just because it describes them, then this would ruin the whole process and lead to the creation of bad terms that we all use but no one likes.
It's certainly acceptable to campaign for or against a word. Many established words became successful because someone campaigned for them. For example, "demisexual" originally had success because AVEN user OwlSaint campaigned relentlessly for it circa 2008. And I've campaigned against words before, like the primary/secondary attraction mentioned earlier.
On the other hand, there are certain campaign strategies that seem unfair. For example, it seems unfair to outright tell people, "You shouldn't use that word," or, "Sounds like you're ____," especially when you're saying it to baby aces who see you as an authority figure. You should be teaching baby aces how to vote, not telling them which way to vote.
I also think it's unfair to go straight to the public and use new words in visibility efforts. That's taking too many shortcuts, and you may just be advocating a word that will die later on. But there is a large gray area here. In my history of doing presentations, I've been far too conservative, hesitating to use words that later became much more popular.
...
Once a word becomes established, it may stick around for a long time. But that doesn't mean that there is no longer anything to vote on.
We also vote on the meanings of words.
The asexual community is especially prone to thinking that words have clear definitions with necessary and sufficient conditions, because that's the way the word "asexual" is usually presented. In fact, this idea is widely rejected in cognitive science and philosophy of language. Most words don't have necessary and sufficient conditions, they have "prototypes". Whether something belongs to a class or not depends on how similar it is to the prototype. Stereotypes are basically a kind of prototype, so when people complain about stereotypes, they're trying to broaden a word away from a particular prototype.
The result of all this, is that words can be fluid. Definitions are attempts to pin down the meanings of words, which is an extremely useful thing to do. But definitions are not the ultimate reality of what those words mean.
In particular, there is always a lot of negotiation of the boundaries between words. For example, if you experience just a tiny bit of sexual attraction, how much is needed to push you from asexual to gray-A? If you yourself are on that boundary, that's for you to decide!
Just as we need the freedom to vote on which words to use, we also need the freedom to vote on what they mean. Therefore, people should feel free to use a word even if by your preferred definition, that word does not describe them. This allows us, as a community, to negotiate what are the best meanings for existing words.
This democratic process is the way that our language has been created. Please continue voting!
Categories:
asexuality,
language,
lgbta
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