TW: pressure to have sex, sexual assault/ violence

Sex education - the most awkward of biology lessons. The birds and the bees. Asking for ‘tea’. Overly detailed descriptions of STDs. Narratives peddled by Sex Ed teachers may give the impression of certified scientific ‘facts’ and thus an entirely objective account of our reproductive systems and their operations, but these biological ‘truths’ are just as vulnerable to dogma as any other.

Just because we slap the label of ‘medical science’ onto ideas about the “remarkable” rate of sperm production, the “decay” and “wastage” of the uterus lining, or the varying ‘sex drives’ between male and female bodies, doesn’t mean that they’re accurate descriptions of bodily functions.

We could just as easily describe the millions of sperm produced by the male reproductive system each day as a ‘colossal waste’ of biomass and reproductive potential. Or picture the menstrual flow as a desirable product for a young person aiming not to get pregnant. Instead, we allow culturally-imbibed descriptions of male and female anatomy to privilege certain processes - and thus certain people - over others.

All science is produced in a cultural context. Such naturalisation of cultured narratives can have dangerous impacts on individuals, as it impacts the way we understand our choices and operate in the world. Nowhere is this more apparent than in reproductive health.

“In this myth of the trials and tribulations of this pint-sized hero, exercising autonomy over our bodies forces us to play the all-too-familiar role of the villain”

Prevailing narratives would have us believe that the meeting of egg and sperm is some strange reiteration of your classic boy-meets-girl romance. Let’s set the scene, shall we? The passive, patient egg lays dormant within her comfy chamber, comfortable in the luxuriant womb linings and contented by the cushioned interior. Far far away, the resourceful and much-enduring sperm is a Homeric hero in his own right, traversing hostile waters, racing home to prove his worth amongst myriad other suitors - powerful and unrelenting, he fulfils his destiny.

In this myth of the trials and tribulations of this pint-sized hero, exercising autonomy over our bodies forces us to play the all-too-familiar role of the villain. A savage and selfish figure; intent on separating these star-crossed lovers. It is wrong that anyone should have to feel like a rogue subject in their own body. A re-examination of the language used and the tropes we rely upon to explain biological processes is well in order - as it stands, we’re perpetuating a culture in which contraceptives represent a violation of social orders both inside and outside the body. For as long as heterosexual narratives in a society ‘out there’ continue to be associated with the biological happenings ‘in here’, they represent a means of perpetuating heteronormativity and regimes of power over people with uteruses.

Worryingly, these ideas take hold even before sex takes place. For example, dominant ideas about men possessing a high ‘sex drive’ or being victim to the torment of “blue balls” are biologically-based dogma that serves the purpose of guilt-tripping, mansplaining, and gaslighting women into bed.

Blue balls are a contested phenomenon and represent - at best - a mild pain caused by built up blood. Not enough for you to feel guilty at not having ‘finished the job’ (they can do it themselves if it’s such an issue!) As for having a ‘sex drive’ - there’s no such thing. A biological ‘drive’ describes something required to protect you from death. Food, shelter, warmth, getting your weekly Jacks gelato… Yet the assumption that men ‘have’ to have sex and that you’re the one they’ve chosen to do it with is woven into the fabric of every pop song you’ve heard since you got your first iPod. The misnomer of ‘sex drive’ leads people experiencing the desire to feel they are entitled to sexual satisfaction, which can have dangerous consequences in situations in which there are unequal power dynamics, or in which some parties have more influence over another e.g., in cases of drugs, alcohol, or abuse.

“There remains an undue expectation on people to submit to the wants (not needs) of male anatomy”

The grounding of this discourse around agency and consent within ‘biological’ contexts serves to uphold the patriarchy on ‘objective’ and ‘natural’ truths. If using contraceptives is to play the villain in the love story of the century, or if exercising your right to say no is to deny someone their biological ‘need’ to sex, then the construction of our personal boundaries represents an imposition or inconvenience. Our comfort is imagined as an affliction upon the natural processes of the body.

Notably, all of these farcical accounts of what is really going on in there - whether we are horny, menstruating, or getting it on - represent a frightening alignment with imperatives of the state. The UK government - amongst other European states - has expressed concerns over our current fertility rate of 1.58 children per woman. Population decline represents, in the state’s imagination, economic stagnation. Though current UK plans are to stick with the status quo, 28% of countries already adopt an explicitly ‘pro-natalist’ stance to reproductive legislation. Considering how powerful our present ‘objective’ scientific narratives generate feelings of guilt, we can see how the current deployment of biological ‘knowledge’ is conducive to the government’s desire to increase birth rates. Now it would be misleading to suggest that the government will suddenly impose a sort of mass regime of pro-natalist indoctrination, but it is worth thinking about how existing ‘science’ can be exploited to assist certain political ambitions. Until efforts to reframe these processes are successful there remains an undue expectation on people to submit to the wants (not needs) of the male anatomy. It is the responsibility of science to generate knowledge that is not led astray by these expectations.