Photo “Tête à Tête” by Flickr user Pabo76. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Lynn Gazis-Sax of Noli Irritare Leones had a great post a little while ago, the third part of which (her post covers three unrelated topics) discusses the question of “casual sex.” One important point stands out (my emphasis in bold)

Final unrelated topic, “casual sex.” There was a thread at Hugo Schwyzer’s blog that digressed into a discussion of the meaning of this phrase. Here are my thoughts. Among the range of attitudes toward sexual morality in this country, you can find “it’s fine as long as it’s consensual and condoms are used as needed,” “it’s fine as long as you’re in love,” and “it’s fine as long as you’re married.” Oversimplifying a lot here, because there’s a lot more of a range in detail than that, but in this case, I want to discuss the “it’s fine as long as you’re in love” position.

...one of the problems with criticizing “casual sex” is that it’s easy to take that in fuzzy ways that don’t have much to do with really thinking about what responsible sexual behavior involves – “casual sex” is sex if you’re not really, really in love, or sex if you haven’t had the requisite number of dates first, or sex with a number of partners that’s, well, fuzzy, but certainly more partners than I’ve had. So, if you’re going to criticize “casual sex,” be sure to be clear about what sex you don’t consider casual; otherwise people will just fill in their own varied ideas, and pat themselves on the back for not having “casual sex” by their own standards.

She said it here (but you’ll have to scroll down a bit.)

First of all I really appreciate her point that definitions vary up to the point where, for some people… quite a few actually (certain major religious denominations, for instance) non-intentionally-reproductive sex in marriage may be frowned on as “casual sex.”

(Quick note: I haven’t mentioned this for a while but I come by “prudish libertine” honestly: while I’m a strong advocate of having sex if you’re ready to have sex, I also firmly believe that “now you’re married now” doesn’t automatically mean “now you’re ready to have sex.” What does mean ready for sex? Here’s the official Scarleteen checklist. It’s long. It’s fairly strict. It doesn’t include “well, now that you’re married you should.” I think it’s spot on. But I digress….)

What I really appreciate is Lynn’s point that “casual sex” is what my logic and rhetoric professor called an equivocal term that needs to be defined before we use it. Even in, well, casual conversation.

A similarly equivocal term would be “sex**.” Another would be intimacy.

Speaking of which, Lynn mentions what she sees as my position on intimacy and casual sex. It’s a good illustration of her point about defining terms.

Two of the bloggers I read often are non-worksafe figleaf and Steven Barnes. Both of them talk a lot about sex (figleaf with more explicitness than the much more work safe Steven Barnes). Both of them clearly see sex as a vital and positive part of life. Neither of them seems to have a sexual ethic tied particularly strongly to a particular religious tradition, and neither goes with the old rule that you should need to be married to have sex. And both are pro-choice, as well as, of course, pro-birth control.

But beyond that, the guidelines they set seem to be very different. figleaf, who likes to call himself a “prudish libertine” or a “libertine prude,” has lots of ideas about what ways of approaching sex are desirable, but none of them require any level or intimacy or relationship between the partners (assuming both enthusiastically consent). Steve has said that it’s wisest not to have sex with anyone from whom you wouldn’t take a 2am phone call a year later, and that it’s not good to have sex under any circumstances where you wouldn’t be around long enough to know if a pregnancy resulted. Now, the thing about this advice is, whether you think it’s the right place to draw the line or not, it’s a clear place to draw the line, and not an arbitrary one. I think this kind of advice is rationally defensible in secular terms (and the 2am phone call example rather appeals to me), but simply letting people read whatever they want into “casual sex,” not such a good idea.

I think this is another case where the definition of “intimate” is equivocal because it sounds like Steven Barnes and I aren’t that far apart. I tend not to talk much about intimacy not because I think it’s unimportant but because I (mistakenly?) assume it’s a given. (Much like I wouldn’t talk about the importance of atmospheric oxygen if I blogged mostly about exercise.) I should probably make it clear every now and then that while I may have a much more expansive definition of “intimacy” it’s very, very important to me. For instance I’m not comfortable inviting someone to dinner if I wouldn’t be willing to field a 2am phone call from them a year later.

And no, this doesn’t mean I’d only invite someone to dinner unless I’d also have sex with them. “Intimacy” may encompass “sexual interest” but not vice versa at all, at all.

[**See Bill Clinton, Newt Gingrich. Also, a college-level sex-ed textbook I read had a table discussing what people considered “sex.” A small number of surveyed respondents thought even penis-in-vagina intercourse to ejaculation didn’t count. It was way below 1%, and there was no explanation, but that anyone at all thought that might not count illustrates that what’s meant by the word is extremely ambiguous. —fl]

Seems like a lot of people have been talking about relationships, relationship failures, the relevance of dating and hookups and one-night stands these days. (And this makes them different from other days exactly how? Um… except maybe a third-time’s-the-charm effect not much.)

Anyway, the third-time charm this morning came from Anastasia of Sexualité who has a thoughtful meditation based on the last time she slept (slept slept, not had-sex-with slept) with a man.

That last time I awoke in a car. I didn’t do anything frisky in the car, preferring to engage in the hot stuff outside, on the beach. We returned to the car after a marathon grope and make out session, to chill out and caught some kip. My idea of relaxation or sleep takes place horizontally, not sitting bolt upright in a car seat. I don’t really think about the last time on a daily basis; I don’t mark it off on a calendar. However, this last fortnight I’ve been thinking about it more.

...

Shortly after that, I waltzed into the meaning of everything, and it brought one of the most popular books to mind, Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl.

...

Getting back on the track, a recent conversation returned to mind:

‘I’m great at casual!’ the person who said this to me reminded me of myself some years ago, and to tell you the truth I didn’t know what to reply. The last couple of days have taken me on a different route that’s had me return to the sexual equation. As much as I appreciate sex, the idea of casual anything has petered out. I think about it, and don’t know what to make of it. Can I or can’t I? It’s a question that has no real answer. I think I’m capable of having a random encounter, but another part of me questions this.

When it comes to relationships, I think the problem lies not in finding relationships that have meaning but in declaring relationships that don’t endure as meaningless. I think it’s an artificial distinction.

I mean, when you think about it Anastasia and I have a relationship. We each read what the other has to say and respond to each other in comments. We not only think well of each other but we also wish each other well. To the extent any relationship has meaning then ours does — even though we live a very large ocean apart, even though we’ll almost certainly never meet, even though we’re even less likely to have sex, even though we’re even less likely to live our our years together. And the great thing is I think we’re pretty content with the relationship as it stands, which makes it a pretty ideal one.

Obviously the kind of relationship we have either unique or exclusive to each other or anyone else. And my point is that just because it’s not “that kind” of relationship doesn’t make it meaningless.

I bring this up because I had some genuinely catastrophic breakups in my early days — when I feel in love I’d fall hard, and fall hard again when things fell apart. A big turning point came after my fourth “great loss” breakup when one of the first thoughts was “not two more years,” which was the time it tended to take me to recover. And once again it did take two years before I was ready for another relationship. But when that too fell apart, and the first thought again (after briefly contemplating throwing myself under a car that was speeding down the street that moment) was “not two more years!” And while in a lot of ways that breakup was the worst, that insight about time “wasted” in and after my relationships gave me a whole new perspective on what I’d been looking for, meaningwise, and what I had supposed I was looking for.

The time I spent in those earlier relationships wasn’t wasted at all. Nor, really, were they failures. And though each certainly made it easier to manage the next their meaning wasn’t the preparation or practice they gave me. They were just mostly wonderful experiences with mostly wonderful people that were failures only in the sense that our expectations were that “relationships” lasting less than a lifetime lack validity and are therefore meaningless.

Now before you decide I’m just being woo-woo all-one-love-yah, or that I’m saying we should all enjoy random sex with strangers and call it “relationships” I have one more point: A declaration that all relationships have meaning, even very short ones, tends to make one less rather than more patient with those who care only for the availability of one’s tab A or slot B.

[Note: From the other side, neither can we have much patience for those who seek to possess “a long-term relationship” without much consideration for whom they might have it. I’m thinking here about a former co-worker who, returning for a visit after a year, with outstretched arm pushed a huge engagement ring under everyone’s noses without once letting us know exactly who had given it to her. But that’s another story. —fl]