My Take: How Erotophobia on Screen was a Catalyst for Me to Make Change
By: Mx. Chelsey Morgan
Like many mediums, including newspapers, comic books and the internet, the film industry was first introduced to the American public as a means of influence. The culture of the time placed film as a medium of art and significance, one that should be listened to, while television was introduced as a means of escape. However, despite early television’s focus on lightheartedness and comedic love stories, it’s capacity for influence remained.
Take one of early television’s most beloved sitcoms: “I Love Lucy” (1951-1957). The show centered on married couple Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, and was considered to be extremely progressive, being one of the first shows on television to feature a person of color. (Granted, ‘Ricky Ricardo’, played by Cuban actor Desi Arnaz, was white passing and heavily stereotyped on screen.) Although pictured as happily married, every bedroom scene during the show's 6 year run featured the couple on separate twin beds, perpetuating the idea that sexuality, or even the implication thereof, was shameful and needed to be hidden. This powerful and irrational fear of our own sexuality and that of those around us is called erotophobia and its influence on our culture has rewired our natural inclinations toward desire.
Now, I understand what you could be thinking at this point. “That was the 1950’s. The world has changed.” And to that, I’d venture to say that not much has changed at all. Back then, academic fascination with sex was rising all over the country, shown most significantly in Alfred Kinsey’s 1948 and 1953 studies on the nature of human sexuality. However, even in the most progressive of programs, television’s perpetuation of these sex-negative ideals hid that fascination from the general public and spread the message that sex was not something to be acknowledged in the public sphere. Nowadays, sure, characters can now have sex on screen. Your average teen drama is filled with dramatic love triangles, unexpected hook-ups and exaggerated young adult sexuality. However, just as media portrayal of race has transitioned from heavy stereotypes and outright racism to subtle perpetuations of harmful ideals, the erotophobic* themes in television have transitioned to do the same.
* definition: The definition of erotophobia is the fear of any sexual intimacy.
Unexpected examples of these erotophobic subtleties can be found Netflix’s famed and aptly named original series “Sex Education”, which premiered in January 2019. “Sex Education” tells the story of Otis Milburn, a young, awkward teen boy raised by a single mother Dr. Jean Milburn, a sex therapist who, much to his chagrin, spoke very openly and directly about sexuality. In many ways, this series was an incredible journey into the world of sex positive parenting and teen sexual exploration. It showcased and often celebrated erotic curiosity and shed light our collective gap in knowledge when it comes to sexuality. Though “Sex Education”, despite being revolutionary in its own right, is not exempt from influencing our culture toward erotophobia.
The thing is, erotophobia is not just the fear of sex itself like it was in the 1950’s. Today, it lives in nuance. A major part of Otis’ storyline in the show is the shame he feels and the embarrassment that comes along with having a sex therapist as a parent. Other sex positive characters are coded as odd and eccentric and, characters who aren’t ashamed of their sexuality are rare and stand out in a crowd. Their lives are fraught with struggle and they’re shamed by their peers, with one character even choosing a relationship with an abuser over a healthy one because of a sexual connection that was framed as “undeniable”. Though it’s easy to feel as if those worlds end when we shut off our screens, those messages spread through our media still manage to find their way into our reality.
In the case of “Sex Education”, their push toward sex positivity on screen far outweighed the moments where erotophobia leaked through, and off screen, “Sex Education” is an incredible example of the steps Hollywood has taken to alter its views around sexuality. In fact, beginning in its second season, Netflix hired Ita O’Brian as the Intimacy Coordinator for the series. Her role was to choreograph scenes of simulated sex and to ensure that narratives around sexuality centered consent and contributed to the story they were telling. Even more so, she was there to protect the real people that existed behind the camera, to prioritize their autonomy, and to curate an off-screen culture of consent. You can even see her influence in the writing of season 2, where that culture of consent pushed writers to consider storylines centering female pleasure and STI protection. It was in watching that transformation, seeing the erotophobia in the story slowly lessen, and watching the influence of intimacy coordination in real time that I found my career.
Through certifying as a Sex Educator and an Intimacy Coordinator, I realized that I could do more than recognize the impact of our media’s lingering habits of sex negativity. I could do something to change it. Our media is a catalyst. It’s a spark that can ignite opinion, then worldview, then culture, and it doesn’t have to be a culture of sexual shame. Intimacy Coordination is the first step toward stamping out erotophobic and sex-negative themes on television. It’s the first step toward celebrating and awarding our sexuality rather than shaming it and toward curating a culture of consent on and off camera.
As a creative, I recognize that what is reinforced on a 30 minute episode, on every network and on every platform, can take years for real people to unlearn. I’m aiming to stamp our erotophobia for good and to change the narrative surrounding sex on screen. And as an educator, I challenge you to take a second look at the messages passed through your screens. Question them, even the most sex-positive of stories. Treat them as they are, as fantasy, and let your reality reflect something different, because sex isn’t something to be pushed away and ignored. It’s not only for the odd, the eccentric or the hedonist. It’s not something to be ashamed of or feared. It’s curiosity. It’s creativity. It’s connection. It’s intimacy and it’s desire. But most importantly, it’s human, and it’s not going anywhere.
Mx. Chelsey Morgan (pronouns: they / them) is an Afro-Latinx, pansexual, polyamorous, and non-binary sex educator, writer and media maker. They practice trauma-informed, holistic sex education with focuses on Mental Health Awareness, BDSM and Kink, LGBTQ+ populations, Non-monogamy and Media Literacy. Their career goal is to curate accurate, consensual, and inclusive representations of sexuality through their work as an Intimacy Coordinator for Film and TV and through providing comprehensive sexuality training to media professionals and content creators. For more information, visit their website at www.mxcmorgan.com or follow them on instagram at MxCMorgan.