very closely related to people’s sexual attractions, as it usually is in reference to others. But desire and attraction also can be decoupled. One of the reasons for this decoupling is that there are separate bodily mechanisms underlying them. Circulating testosterone, for example, can have a large impact on desire, but it does not alter the direction of one’s sexual attractions.[9] In the checkered early days of reparative therapy, gay men were administered high levels of testosterone, with the idea being that a lack of sexual interest in women occurred in men because of an insufficient amount of this male-associated hormone (Meyer- Bahlburg, 1977). The bottom line, however, was this: Testosterone did not make gay men heterosexual; it just made them horny! There were a couple of problems with this reparative approach using testosterone, aside from, of course, the ethical issues. First, testosterone, although found in higher concentrations in men than women, exists in both sexes. So, it is misleading to suggest that it is a male-only hormone (see also chapter 6). Second, prior to birth, different levels of exposure to testosterone may have permanent, organizing effects on the brain (as they do on the body), and may ultimately affect sexual attractions and one’s orientation development (see also chapter 13). But in adolescence and adulthood, testosterone has “activating” effects, working like a kind of fuel on whatever disposition (i.e., brain organization) is already there in the first place. So it is not surprising that gay men, when given a boost of testosterone, became more interested in sexual activities generally but did not change their underlying attraction to men. So, in short, desire and attraction have different underlying bodily mechanisms, and hence are “decoupleable.”

In many people’s minds, asexual people must lack sexual desire (i.e., have no interest whatsoever in sexual activities). Indeed, very low desire or a lack of desire is sometimes put forth as an important definition of asexuality (Prause & Graham, 2007). I, too, think this definition of asexuality is a reasonable one, at least in some ways (Bogaert, 2006b; Bogaert, 2008). For example, I think lack of desire is more viable than lack of sexual behavior in defining asexuality.

But why I do prefer to define asexuality as a lack of sexual attraction (Bogaert, 2006b)? For one, if a person truly lacks sexual desire, then there is likely no sex drive to fuel any underlying sexual attractions, if indeed such underlying (perhaps) hidden attractions exist; thus, someone with an absence of desire would lack sexual attraction for others as well, although they still might have romantic attractions. Second, the reverse is not necessarily true: if one lacks sexual attraction, one does not necessarily have no sexual desire or drive (see chapter 5 on masturbation). Third, sexual attraction captures the core element of sexual orientation, so, if one wants to argue that asexual people do not have a traditional sexual orientation (i.e., gay, straight, bi) but instead have a unique asexual one, then a lack of sexual attraction to others is the important criterion (Bogaert, 2006b). Fourth, I think that a lack of desire may not capture accurately the phenomenon of asexuality, at least based on existing research. There is support for this view in two recent studies. Recent research on self-identified asexuals (Prause & Graham, 2007; Brotto et al., 2010) shows that they do not necessarily have a lower desire for sexual activity, but they clearly have a lower desire for sexual activity with others; in other words, they lack sexual attraction to others. Thus, a lack of sexual attraction is likely a good overarching definition of asexuality from a number of perspectives.[10]

This is not to say that someone who has had an enduring lack of desire for all forms of sexual activities, including partnered sex and masturbation, should not be labeled asexual. They should, in my view. This is because, as mentioned above, this person would lack sexual attraction for others (although perhaps not lack romantic attraction), along with lacking additional sexual processes (e.g., no sex drive). In fact, using an enduring lack of sexual desire for all sexual activities is, perhaps, a more stringent definition of asexuality than the one I have proposed, because it would include a lack of sexual attraction and a lack of sex drive. Thus, a lack of sexual attraction may be construed as a “minimal” definition for asexuality.

A couple of miscellaneous factors remain. One concerns sexual identity. Why not define an asexual person as anyone who, in fact, defines himself or herself as asexual? This is a reasonable question, and self- definitions/identities are important in a number of ways. For one, considering self-definitions respects the way someone chooses to label him or herself. There are also many interesting research and health issues about forging a sexual identity, including an asexual identity, as we will discuss in chapter 7. But is self-definition the best way to understand the main factor(s) underlying asexuality as a sexual orientation and/or as a phenomenon? Because one’s sexual identity is often formed by a variety of factors—such as knowledge of a label or labels, comfort level with coming out, and political and other factors—many sexologists, including myself, are often wary of using self- identification as the key dimension in defining sexual orientation.[11] As mentioned above, many sexologists define sexual orientation in terms of sexual attraction, as we believe it is the “psychological core” of sexual orientation.

Another miscellaneous factor is pleasure. When we think of sex, we may think of sexual attractions, arousal, and desire, but we also think of pleasure. And when we do think of the pleasures of sex, we usually associate it with the arousal aspect (e.g., feelings of pleasure associated with erections and vaginal lubrication and the intense pleasure when physical arousal culminates in an orgasm). This makes sense because the organs of sex most directly associated with physical arousal (i.e., penis, clitoris, vagina) are brimming with nerve endings, which ultimately connect to the pleasure centers of the brain that are capable of making us experience intense pleasure. But all aspects of the sexual experience, broadly defined (including attraction, behavior, and desire), elicit a certain amount of pleasure. For example, a heterosexual man may experience pleasure at the mere sight of a beautiful woman (attraction) without ever—alas!—experiencing the physical pleasures (arousal/orgasm) of sex with her.

You may be thinking that this discussion on sexual pleasure is interesting, but also wondering, yet again, what all of this has to do with asexuality. Do asexual people lack sexual pleasure, and with all aspects of sex? It is likely the case that some asexual people may not have pleasure with many, if not all, aspects of sex, but a lack of pleasure does not seem to be the key defining factor associated with asexuality. Some asexual people do, for example, have arousal experiences and evidently receive pleasure from these experiences, as one of the quotes above, repeated here, demonstrates: “everything works fine, pleasurable and all, it’s just not actually attracted to anything” (Brotto et al., 2010, p. 612). How many asexual people do nonetheless receive some level of pleasure from their arousal is unknown, but it is clear that a lack of sexual pleasure is not a defining feature for all asexual people.

Summary

In this chapter we discussed the A (attraction and arousal), B (behavior), C (cognition), and Ds (desire) of sex. We also mentioned two miscellaneous factors: identity and pleasure. (I realize that by including I and P, I have ruined the alphabetical simplicity of my chapter title!) These are the key psychological processes of sexuality. They also help us to understand asexuality. Indeed, perhaps some asexual people are devoid of all these factors; that is, they lack sexual attraction, arousal, behavior, cognitions (e.g., fantasies), desire, and pleasure, and they also identify as “asexual.” But one of these—lack of sexual attraction—may be a core psychological factor among asexual people and may best define the phenomenon, from both a theoretical and a research perspective. Lack of sexual attraction is at least potentially independent of these other processes, and it is noteworthy that those who lack sexual attraction may not lack these other processes (e.g., desire, arousal). Also, at this point, although lack of sexual attraction seems like a reasonable definition for understanding asexuality, the phenomenon is likely diverse, so it is important to keep in mind that this is a working definition and open to change. Thus, although I give some priority in this book, as I have in my past publications, to defining asexuality as a lack of sexual attraction, I think it is also reasonable to be sensitive to different definitions of asexuality (including a lack of desire for all sexual activities) and self-definitions. Another reason for being open to different definitions is that research on asexuality is just beginning.

CHAPTER 3

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