as
A second caveat is that there is still stigma about admitting to same-sex sexuality, so even if these modern samples represent their populations well, these figures likely underestimate the prevalence of homosexuality. Third, non-Western societies are not considered in these figures, and it is important to remember that the majority of the people in the world do not live in Western societies, although most people in Western societies behave as if they do. For example, I do not know of a good estimate of homosexuality in India, Russia, Iran, or countless other non- Western societies. A recent exception is China. The estimate of same-sex sexuality in China is lower than estimates for most Western countries, with, for example, approximately 1 percent of men and women indicating that they identify as homosexual. The question was: “Some people regard themselves as homosexual. Do you so regard yourself?” (Parish et al., 2003; Parish, Das, & Laumann, 2006; Parish, Luo, Laumann, Kew, & Yu, 2007). Slightly fewer, just less than 1 percent, indicated that they had sexual attraction for (i.e., wanted to have sex with) the same sex. The stigma associated with same-sex attraction is likely high, so one expects that these figures are underestimating same-sex sexuality, even more so than in Western societies. However, even factoring in this underestimate, I expect that it is unlikely that predominant or exclusive same-sex sexuality would reach the memorably round 10 percent figure in either Western or non-Western societies.
Why is this prevalence research on homosexuality important for understanding the prevalence rate of asexuality? It is important because it allows a broad context to understand the prevalence rate of asexuality and, more specifically, provides a comparison to another sexual minority.
Given our discussion of Kinsey, we should give a nod to his data before we discuss modern samples and their evidence for the prevalence of asexuality. As you may recall, Kinsey called asexual (or nonsexual) people Xs, because they did not conveniently correspond to a number on his seven-point scale of sexual orientation. Kinsey tallied his numbers for Xs, just as he did for people with traditional sexual orientations. In the male sample, 1.5 percent were Xs (Kinsey et al., 1948). In his female sample (Kinsey et al., 1953), he reported different rates of Xs depending on their marital status. For example, 14–19 percent of unmarried women were Xs, whereas 1–3 percent of married women were Xs.[15]
In the post-AIDs era of good sampling, few social scientists would dare to make estimates on asexuality without resorting to findings in national surveys with modern sampling methods (e.g., probability sampling), such as the one I will use here. As mentioned, in the first published study using a British national sample, the National Survey of Sexual Attitudes and Lifestyles (NATSAL-I) (Johnson, Wadsworth, Wellings, & Field, 1994), I found that 1.05 percent of the population reported that they had “never felt sexual attraction to anyone at all.” This rate was very similar to the prevalence rate of same-sex attraction (i.e., predominant homosexuality and bisexuality combined) in this survey, which was 1.1 percent (Bogaert, 2004).
Intriguing as this 1 percent figure is, it does not necessarily represent a definitive statement on the prevalence of asexuality across societies, or even across time within the same society. I recently reanalyzed the ten-year follow-up to this national British sample (NATSAL-II) (Johnson et al., 2001; National Centre for Social Research et al., 2005), and found that approximately 0.5 percent had “never felt sexual attraction to anyone at all” (Bogaert, in press-a). Also, as a comparison, the prevalence rate of same-sex attraction (again, predominant homosexuality and bisexuality combined) was higher in NATSAL-II (2.3 percent) than in NATSAL-I and was significantly higher than the rate of asexuality in NATSAL-II.
Why the difference in prevalence rates of asexuality and homosexuality between these two national British samples? The difference likely occurred because the two samples varied in meaningful ways (Johnson et al., 2001). First, only sixteen- to forty-four-year-olds were recruited for NATSAL-II, whereas NATSAL-I had a broader range of ages, sixteen to fifty-nine. In my original study, I found that asexual people were more likely to be older rather than younger. Thus, the prevalence of asexuality may have been lower in NATSAL-II because it contained a restricted age range. Second, NATSAL-II participants, relative to NATSAL-I participants, may have been somewhat more sexually liberal in a variety of dimensions (e.g., attitudes, interests, and behavior). Thus, asexual people—who have, for example, less sexual experience relative to sexual people—may have been less extensively recruited to participate in NATSAL-II relative to NATSAL-I. Similarly, people with more liberal sexual attitudes and behavior, including gays and lesbians (who often have more sexual experience and are more liberal), may have been more extensively recruited in NATSAL-II relative to NATSAL-I. But is there evidence that NATSAL-II indeed surveyed more sexually liberal people than NATSAL-I? Yes, there is some. First, there was a ten-year span between recruitments for NATSAL-I and NATSAL-II, and sexual attitudes and behaviors often change across time, and usually in the more liberal direction. Second, there was a more extensive survey of greater London in NATSAL-II relative to NATSAL-I (see National Centre for Social Research et al., 2005), and urban people are often more liberal and sexually experienced relative to more rural people. However, the researchers did attempt to account for the greater recruitment of Londoners in NATSAL-II versus NATSAL-I using statistical methods (Bogaert, in press-a). Another consideration is that the method of assessment in NATSAL-II was likely more private than in NATSAL-I, and thus NATSAL-II participants may have been potentially more open to revealing sensitive information (e.g., same-sex attraction) (Copas et al., 2002).
How about societies beyond Britain? There is a representative sample of Australia with relevant information on sexual attraction, the Australian Study of Health and Relationships (ASHR). Like NATSAL-I, the ages surveyed were sixteen to fifty-nine, and the sexual orientation question allowed for the response “I never felt sexual attraction to anyone at all.” Approximately 0.4 percent reported never having felt sexual attraction to others, as compared to the 2 percent rate of same-sex attraction in this sample (again, same-sex and bisexual attraction combined) (Smith, Rissel, Richters, Grulich, & de Visser, 2003).
In addition to the NATSAL studies in Britain and this national sample of Australia, there are important data on sexual attraction (or the lack of it) in the U.S.-based National Survey of Family Growth (NSFG) (Mosher, Chandra, & Jones, 2005; Poston & Baumle, 2010), also a national sample. When asked about their sexual attractions (to men, women, or both), 0.8 percent of female participants and 0.7 percent of male participants reported that they were “not sure.” This is in contrast to 1.5 percent of female participants who reported predominant or exclusive attraction to women and 1.9 percent who reported equal sexual attraction to both sexes, and also in contrast to 2.2 percent of male participants who reported predominant or exclusive attraction to men and 1 percent who reported equal sexual attraction to both sexes. Assuming that “not sure” is a reasonable proxy for a lack of sexual attraction, these figures should be considered as “in-between” the prevalence rate of asexuality that I reported in the NATSAL samples (Bogaert, 2004; Bogaert, in press-a). However, “not sure” is a vague answer and could mean, at least for some, something beyond a lack of sexual attraction for others. Also, like NATSAL-II, the age range was restricted in NSFG, in this case to only those between fifteen and forty-four.
Some national surveys have also included information on low or absent sexual desire. Low or absent desire is not completely overlapping with a lack of sexual attraction—my preferred definition of asexuality—but it is clearly related, particularly in the case of absent desire, and may serve as a good proxy for lack of sexual attraction, especially when no specific information was collected on sexual attraction. Moreover, the absence of desire is an alternative way to define asexuality (see chapter 2 on definitions of asexuality) (Prause & Graham, 2007). Thus, figures on low/absent desire should also give us pause about the true number of “asexuals,” broadly defined. Using a national survey of Danish residents, Soren Ventegodt (1998) found that 11.2 percent of women and 3.2 percent of men had “low sexual desire.” In one of the best sex survey samples from the United States, the National Health and Social Life Survey (NHSLS), Laumann and colleagues found that approximately one-third of women and one-seventh of men had “low desire” in the past year (Laumann, Paik, & Rosen, 1999). In a recent national sample of China, 7 percent of participants reported “no” desire for a year or more (Parish et al., 2003; Parish et al., 2006; Parish et al., 2007; Bogaert, 2008).
Although these studies are interesting, it should be noted that in two of the studies (those by Ventegodt and Laumann and his colleagues), low desire is not necessarily the same as absence of desire. Also, it is important to
