Photo by Flickr user davidgljay. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Via Marginal Revolution, it looks like the mainstream is finally (finally!) starting to notice asexuality.

Here is much more, interesting throughout, hat tip to The Browser.

Source: Marginal Revolution

It's about time.

I love that the image MR author Tyler Cowen chose was of an asexual man. It's neither intolerable nor inconceivable that a man would be disinterested in sex, because there are plenty of examples in history and around the world, plus there's a whole minor literature of complaints by women of their partners "slowing down," of various religious dictates of men's obligations to "provide" or "service" their wives, of men mourning the loss or declines of their libidos, and so on. And the whole semen conservation thing.

There's also whole unusual-in-the-west notion that men are naturally chaste, modest, and moral and instead it's women who should be blamed for promiscuity (though usually because they want to get pregnant, not, heaven forfend, that they're ever just horny.) Which explains why acceptance of Rule #1 makes it seem (falsely) logical that it's women who are most likely to be asexual.

But if it's not inconceivable and intolerable to become a third bogus Rule of Desire it's certainly not a familiar notion that young, healthy, even vital men might ever be disinclined or disinterested.

In reality, of course, men and women seem to be roughly equally inclined to be asexual.

Anyway, asexuals: they're neither straight nor queer but they're here. We'd all be better off if we got used to it.

SlightlyMetaphysical of Asexual curiosities has had enough of a certain near-universal gender stereotype. Even better, he beautifully illustrates how men are socially constructed as the obligate, reflexively sexual “sex class.” Check it out.

“Isn’t it annoying how men are really sex-obsessed?”
“Not all men are sex-obsessed. If you thought about it for a moment, you’d realise that a lot of the men you know aren’t.”
“Give me an example.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, you don’t count. You’re asexual.”

“I think everyone would secretly do anything for sex, they’re just hiding it.”
“Again, not true. I wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, but you don’t count. You’re asexual.”

So what’s with this idea that, because I’m asexual, I’m outside of the normal spectrum of sexuality? I’m statistically written off? I think partly, it’s an example of how people construct a ‘no true Scotsman’ fallacy in their stereotypes, especially of gender. They think that, for example, men like sex, and so think of men who like sex as being most typically men, and then, when they think of the people who they know who are typically male, surprise surprise, they all like sex.

He said it here.

Got that? The notion of men as the sex class is so entrenched that men who don’t fit the profile aren’t even permitted in the data set! It’s like… well, we wanted to do a sexual-interest profile of men. But since including them always screw up our results we discard asexuals before we do our analysis.

I’ll go him one better! In the face of such stereotypes about men, men with low or no libido are going to be extremely unlikely to disclose their actual preferences… and actually rather likely to pretend otherwise. Either way they have very little incentive to buck the stereotype.

Ily of Asexy Beast points out how asexuals are subject to… well… not exactly heteronormativity so let’s call it maybe “sexnormativity.” Whatever you want to call it boils down to pressure felt by asexuals to conform to the expectations of people who aren’t themselves asexual.

Apparently, there’s an ideal asexual. It’s not me, and no offense, but it probably isn’t you either. Who is it, you ask? Well…

Read her whole post here.

It’s a cool, cool post getting into issues of self-doubt, self-censorship and conformity among asexuals. Which you’d think (if we were trying to construct stereotypes of asexuality!) would be silly since (constructing that asexuality again) you’re obviously either asexual or not, right? No? Good answer! Like trying to answer for another whether they’re gay, or kinky, or trans, or even straight, it’s not for for someone else to decide what it means for you to be asexual. Here’s Ily again (emphasis mine.)

I didn’t realize that “trying to be asexual” can actually mean “trying to be an ideal asexual”, and that it could be a problem, until I read this post/manifesto, also on Apositive. Its author talks about how our increased visibility in the media has also led to the rise of an “ideal” or “good” asexual. Of course, this person doesn’t actually exist, because asexuals appearing in the media no doubt conceal aspects of their asexuality that might be seen as contradictory or confusing.

From conversations I’ve had in person and online with asexual people it’s as messy as, well, any other orientation. Which, if you think about it, is only fair — orientation being a quality of human beings and not much about humans is clear cut.

The first out/activist asexual I met when she joined a pre-blogging online forum on sex. She got just about everything in the book thrown at her from neurosis to buried trauma to unfortunate prescriptions to inhibitions to religious zeal to “just haven’t met the right boy/girl/goat” to… well, the book. To be as cheerfully disinterested in sex as she was just really got people’s… well… goats. Anyone else might have withered in the withering criticism she received, and so I can see how the pressure to conform to outsider’s stereotypes could be intense.

But as Ily also hints, in part because asexuality is so unclearly understood, the more “ideal” the definition becomes the more pressure flesh and blood asexuals are going to face. And, perhaps worse, it raises the risk that people who might otherwise find comfort, camaraderie, and identity are likely to think “well, that can’t be me either.”

And if all that sounds familiar…

Reflecting on some boneheaded insensitivity to transgender issues raised in the L-Word final season Ily of asexy beast makes a connection to the way she’s often treated as an asexual, and comes to an insight with even broader applications towards orientation, identity, as well as the (inappropriate, unwanted) utility well-meaning others assign can assign to you.

Once I started on this train of thought, I realized that a large proportion of the unwanted things people say when we come out are actually attempts to make us feel better. Maybe this is obvious, but since I tend to assume everyone knows the same things I know, it took me awhile to figure out. Being told “You’re just a late bloomer” is supposed to give us hope, as is “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” If the other person can convince us that asexuality doesn’t exist, we’re supposed to find that a huge relief. Uh…no. Someone with little understanding of asexuality might think it’s a negative thing, and assume that we want to be talked down off the edge of identifying as such.

She said it here.

Good points. We tend to do a lot of that, to a lot of people. Ily mentions her exasperation upon being told when she mentioned her asexuality “But! Straight men would want to date you!” Yes, no doubt that’s true. Goodness knows enough gay women are told the same. As trans men and women are told “you’re fine just the way you are.” As men expressing emotion are told to “suck it up.” As children are told “you’d be prettier if you tied your hair back.” All well-intentioned, sure, but intentioned far more for the consolation of the beholder than for the “consoled.”