School-sanctioned student groups are trying to alter the culture’s sexual mores and purge modesty from private and civic life.
School-sanctioned student groups are trying to alter the culture’s sexual mores and purge modesty from private and civic life.
I n October 1636, the General Court of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay took a final vote appropriating 400 pounds for the establishment of what would eventually become the crown jewel of the American higher-education system. The new college was meant primarily to train clergy, with one of the founders writing that the college’s mission was “to advance learning and perpetuate it to posterity; dreading to leave an illiterate ministry to the churches, when our present ministers shall lie in the dust.”
Things have changed. In fall 2022, visitors to this school, known to modern Americans as Harvard University, could stumble upon a seminar called “P***y Portraits,” in which participants are urged to “paint any genitals you so please” in order to celebrate “genital diversity.” Students were welcome to attend a “F*** Fest” lingerie party at one of the university’s dorms. Others might opt to attend a BDSM workshop titled “Show Me the Ropes.”
The events were all part of Harvard’s annual “Sex Week,” in which students organize events “dedicated to empowering members of the Harvard community to explore their experiences with love and sex by providing comprehensive sexual-education programming on Harvard’s campus.” (In 2019, Harvard students were offered the chance to 3D print their own dildos. Ivory tower, indeed.)
Student-led sex education no longer comprises some poor schlub being paid minimum wage to dress as a condom and hand out birth control at the student union. Now, weeklong, elaborately scheduled seminars are put on by school-sanctioned student groups intent on pushing the boundaries of campus discourse.
And, of course, such “sex week” activities are not unique to the Ivy League. In 2016, students at the University of Tennessee-Knoxville held an event simply called “Butt Stuff.” It was so popular, the student group returned in 2018 with a seminar called “Butt Stuff 2: The Pegging.” (Note: Do not click that link on your work computer if you want to avoid a trip to the HR office.)
At its inaugural sex week in 2022, the University of Southern California held a far tamer but no less out-there event extolling the virtues of “plant play,” which is achieved by “exploring sensuality and herbalism.” Clearly it is now insufficient simply to be a tree hugger.
And as part of Northwestern University’s 2020 online sex week, students could listen to a presentation called “Masturbation for Manifestation,” in which participants are taught that achieving an orgasm while looking at a pile of cash could potentially bring them riches in the future. (Let us hope such manifestation strategies haven’t taken hold for presidential aspirants. Might want to check Donald Trump’s browser history to see if it is full of boudoir photos of William Howard Taft.)
Of course, nobody is contesting these students’ right to discuss whatever they want on campus. If they want to espouse truly offensive ideas — akin to “Black Sabbath’s Paranoid album is one of the weakest in the band’s catalog” — they should be given the freedom to do so. In fact, conservatives should be most willing to defend free speech on college campuses, given that regulations on expression tend to hit students on the political right the hardest.
And you won’t find any judgment on private sexual practices here. You do you, provided it’s with consent and, as the centuries-old saying goes, as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.
But when discerning between what can be done and what should be done, it is helpful to follow comedian Chris Rock’s classic dictum: “You can drive a car with your feet if you want to, that don’t make it a good f***ing idea.”
It should be asked, for instance: Exactly what problem are these groups trying to solve? Is America suddenly suffering through a surplus of undisturbed posteriors? Do these kids not understand that as long as the human race has been procreating, sex partners have figured out new and innovative ways to turn each other on? Do they think Caligula would have had a more fulfilling erotic life had he been lectured by a 21-year-old with a clipboard?
One hopes these young people understand the ridiculousness of their endeavor. But it doesn’t matter, because their goal is clearly twofold.
First, like any good younger generation, they assert their relevance by horrifying old people.
Check.
But second, they also want to bolster the idea that college campuses are their ideological domain, where dissenting ideas are shamed. As all campus bullies do, they want to make students who prefer modesty and, shall we say, more ordinary sexual practices feel as if they are outside the norm.
The trouble is, on a college campus today there is no aspect of personal maturation or discovery that can be left up to the individual. The cultural police are out to tell students what words they can use, where they can live, how they must interact with people of different colors, genders, and nationalities. The college years are important in learning who you are; campus sex groups want to make sure you don’t get any ideas of your own.
Further, in the progressive tradition, these groups want to remake society by targeting students held captive in an academic barrel. This is the most effective way of altering the culture’s sexual mores and purging modesty from civic life.
Also in the progressive tradition, they want other students to pay for their activities. In many cases, student organizations hosting sex weeks are funded through student fees assessed to the general campus population. Sexual Empowerment and Awareness at Tennessee (fittingly called SEAT, given their anal enthusiasm) is a registered student group that in the past has received $29,000 per year — the highest amount the school grants — to conduct their activities. A group at the University of Wisconsin-Madison called Sex Out Loud used to receive $100,000 a year to host events such as “Kink,” “Pleasure,” and “Advanced Pleasure” (which one can only assume is pleasure attained while completing an especially difficult Sudoku puzzle).
What’s astounding is how unnecessary this all is. Does anyone believe the problem with America is that we don’t talk about sex enough? If people want to learn about literally any style of sex, discuss their likes and dislikes, or share their kinks, there is a whole wild world on the internet in which they can do so. Nobody on campus needs a sex-toy-wielding hippie to show them what eroticism looks like. There are (I hear) websites that provide a decent facsimile! (And that doesn’t even count being on a work call with Jeffrey Toobin!)
There are, of course, students who object to all this libidinous effrontery, who reject the suggestion that in order to live a fulfilling life they need to have a sex life like a member of Mötley Crüe. They are sick of having every aspect of their private lives become the subject of a lecture. They understand that private sexual freedom is incompatible with condescending lectures about bedroom behavior. They enjoy having a piece of their lives remain private, known only to themselves.
Contrast this with former University of Florida basketball player Joakim Noah, who celebrated the 2006 national championship by telling reporters, “This is better than sex! . . . And trust me, I’m doing it right.” Presumably, Noah did not require the resources of a university-funded sex organization to perfect his craft — after all, he is half French.
Students should be left to learn the ins and outs of intimate relationships on their own; it shouldn’t be up to other students to fund the carnal activities of others.
But all is not lost. If you are someone who wonders what good a university education is anymore and would like to see all this nonsense stop, Northwestern has a strategy for you to manifest that into reality.