Anthony Bogaert - Understanding Asexuality

The pornography/attraction relationship is more complicated for women, especially given that they are often less visually oriented in their sexual response than men (see more on sex/gender differences in chapter 6). But the overall point about sexual fantasies as a window into the sexual attraction “soul” still holds up reasonably well. If so, persistent sexual fantasies in asexual people, and particularly in asexual men, may be a partial way of determining whether they have some level of attraction for men or women, or some unusual thing, such as an object or an event (see chapter 12).

Interestingly, the fact that the asexual person I referred to above actually did not comprehend my question about “what do you masturbate to ” indicates to me that he does indeed lack sexual fantasy (and sexual scripts). Thus, he is asexual as I define it (i.e., a lack of sexual attraction), and even though he may masturbate, he does not direct his masturbation to something or someone. Also, that other asexual people like him do not seem to fantasize in any systematic or directed way, or don’t masturbate altogether, indicates that many asexual people do not have sexual attractions, typical or atypical in nature.

However, my discussions with people who identify as asexual (along with some of the discussion on AVEN) suggest that some do have consistent fantasies or choose specific stimuli (e.g., pornography) to which they masturbate repeatedly. Also, as mentioned above, some level of fantasy does occur in asexual people (Brotto et al., 2010). This fact raises questions about their sexual attractions and whether some of these individuals might have unusual sexual attractions, called paraphilias (see also chapter 10).

Interestingly, when the fantasies do occur in asexual people in a consistent or systematic way, they are often, although not always, still of a “disconnected” sort. That is, these people often view themselves as not being part of the sexual acts they are fantasizing about or viewing (e.g., pornography). In other words, they themselves are not connected to anything or anyone sexual. It is as if their own identities—who they are as individuals—are not sexual ( they are not attracted to anyone or anything), but their bodies, or (more correctly) aspects of their mind related to sexual arousal but not fully connected to their identity, may still need sexual stimulation for them to masturbate (and perhaps receive pleasure). This “disconnect” of identity from masturbation and sexual fantasy is very intriguing. To me, it still suggests that these people lack sexual attraction on some level (and thus have an “asexual” orientation), because their identity—who they are as individuals—is not sexually connected to anyone or anything. However, we will take up these fascinating questions and their implications—such as whether these people have a paraphilia and whether they can still truly be labeled asexual (i.e., lacking in sexual attraction)—further in chapter 10 (Bogaert, 2008).

There are probably a number of different functions (e.g., pleasure, script development and rehearsal, health benefits) to human masturbation, this most common of sexual behaviors. Although they do not masturbate to the same degree as sexual people do (as one might expect), asexual people may have a masturbation history, and some may masturbate at a relatively high frequency. This fact reinforces the idea that what might be termed “sexual” behaviors, such as masturbation, are not necessarily completely absent in asexual people. It also lends support to the idea that what is termed a “sexual” behavior may, sometimes, be devoid of intense sexual feelings (even in sexual people), and yet it may still serve a function (such as health or physical release). The fact that some asexual people masturbate and some asexual people do not also reinforces the idea that asexuality is a diverse phenomenon. In other words, there are different types of asexual people, some of whom have desire (or at least impulses and urges, even if they are not intensely “sexual” desires) and some who do not. There may be a core element to all asexual people, however: a lack of sexual attraction (see also chapter 2). Finally, the ideas brought forward in this chapter confirm the notion that researchers should be aware that some people who identify as asexual may have a paraphilia, a sexual attraction to something unusual. One way of finding out more about whether some masturbating asexual people have paraphilias is to study their fantasies, which reveal (often secret) attractions. More research is also needed to verify some of the conclusions I have drawn in this chapter, in part because the data on which I have based these conclusions are incomplete and/or somewhat informal in nature (e.g., quotes from relatively few individuals). So more questions, even seemingly dumb ones, need to be asked.

The holy grail of sexual mysteries is female sexuality. Sex researchers regularly salivate, like Pavlov’s dogs, at the prospect of solving this mystery of mysteries. Even Sigmund Freud, who was never one to shy away from asserting his knowledge of human behavior, recognized his ignorance and famously queried, “What do they want?”

Some modern examples: There’s a relatively famous song by a female singer—“I know what boys like; I know what guys want” (The Waitresses, n.d.). There is no equivalent song about female desire sung by a male singer. There is a well-known picture (e.g., on the Internet) of two black boxes, one of which has a sole “on/off” switch and is labeled “the man”; the other has a vast array of dials and knobs and is labeled “the woman.” I show this picture in my human sexuality class when I address differences in sexuality between men and women. Aside from a few students with blank looks, they laugh. The humor occurs because they know, on some level, that inside the woman’s black box (aptly named) is that mystery of mysteries—the complex nature of women’s desire—and that inside the man’s black box (not so aptly named) is, well, one thick wire leading to that on/off switch.

In this chapter, I discuss the mysterious nature of women’s (and men’s!) sexuality, particularly as it is relates to asexuality. In other words, I explore how sex and gender affect sexuality and asexuality.

Let’s start with some context and definitions. Sex and its cultural cousin, gender, are complex constructs. Sex usually refers to the biological differences between males and females: penis and vagina; XY (male) and XX (female) chromosomes; male hormones (e.g., testosterone) and female hormones (e.g., estrogens); and so forth. So, sex refers to male and female anatomy and their biological processes. Gender usually pertains to the expectations that a culture places on males and females to behave in a specific way; in other words, what are the typical masculine and feminine roles in society? Gender also often relates to one’s psychological feelings or states as a male or a female. So, for example, people who perceive themselves as a man have a male gender identity .

You may be thinking, This is easy enough, so why are they such complex concepts? Well, let’s deconstruct these concepts a bit. First, are there just two sexes? Another one of my dumb questions, you ask? (For more dumb questions, see chapter 5 on masturbation.) Well, actually, despite what most people believe, some experts suggest that two sexes are too limiting and that perhaps as many as five different sexes exist in human beings. Anne Fausto-Sterling, a biologist at Brown University, advocated this position, albeit one that she later admitted was argued tongue-in-cheek and to prove a broader point (1993; 2000). That broader point was that the rigid binary system of two sexes is not complex enough to understand the variation that exists in biological sex. John Money, the famous psychologist and sexologist, also pointed out the ambiguity in biological sex by noting that whether we call someone a male or female can depend on a variety of biological variables, not all of which are necessarily aligned or consistent (Money, Hampson, & Hampson, 1957). So, one can define sex by XY (male) or XX (female) chromosomes, but what if the gonads—testes or ovaries—do not match up with a standard XY or XX chromosomal profile in a given person? In other words, what if someone has XY chromosomes but also has ovaries? What if someone has the internal reproductive organs normally reserved for women (e.g., fallopian tubes and uterus) but has external male genitalia? This kind of sexual ambiguity, sometimes called intersexuality , is surprisingly prevalent (i.e., about 1–2 percent of births) (Fausto-Sterling, 2000), and it illustrates the need, when speaking about biological sex, for language and concepts capable of handling complexity.