Once we were told that masturbation was a sin, and yet we as a society seem to have grown up enough to transcend that one. (Or mostly, anyhow. The website Bible.com reports that "What does the bible say about masturbation?" is one of their most frequently asked questions. Don’t even get me started on the implications of that. Anyhow, they go on to explain that, yes, in fact, it is a sin.) I guess we’re each on our own to deal with the hairy palm issue (hint: try Windex), but at least American society seems to have largely outgrown the absurdity of viewing jerking-off as a sin. What an accomplishment, eh? No wonder we’re the greatest power in the world.
We also seem to have largely managed to transcend prohibitions on married couples using birth control, people engaging in premarital sex, and now even homosexual relations. It took us a very, very long time, and by no means are we entirely there yet. But American attitudes toward sexuality are certainly more mature today than they were a generation or two ago.
Most people get that these are private matters, subject to private morality. And, almost without exception, the ones that don’t – from Swaggart to Haggard – are the very same people who are personally engaged in the most twisted stuff, as they alternate between repressing and expressing their sexual urges. Preaching to you about how you’re going to rot in hell is no doubt a way for them to grapple with the bundle of massive internal fears driven by their own continually resurfacing proclivities. So maybe if we stop filling people up with biblical scare stories concerning their basic human instincts, we can stop reproducing this madness on TV sets and in pulpits. Hey, America, this memo’s for you: Birds do it. Bees do it. So do, gulp, humans.
A mature society would realize that sexual mores need to be defined by individuals, within limits dictated by real physical or psychological harm. A good place to start is by emphasizing the ‘consenting’ and ‘adult’ parts of that eponymous formula. If consenting adults want to do it, and no one is harmed, there is little reason to imagine why it should be outlawed or even morally suspect (raised eyebrows or the occasional whispered snicker would still be permitted, however, at least where the kinkiest stuff is concerned). Look, some people like to have sex in beds, others in airplane restrooms. Some people like to wear Bozo costumes while doing it, others like to sing Broadway show tunes. Unless you desperately need to go potty at 30,000 feet and all the toilets are occupied, or you happen to be Secretary-Treasurer of the Anti-Clown Discrimination Association, who cares?
Similarly, partners need to negotiate what works best for them in their sexual relations, and that is just not a matter of the public interest. Some couples might be happiest in non-exclusive relationships. That should be their prerogative, without legal or moral penalty. If Eliot Spitzer promised his wife he’d be faithful to her alone, then she absolutely deserves a giant apology and more from him. But it’s really not our business. It’s bad enough for her that she has had to live through this personal ordeal. But the additional shame and public humiliation is only there because of our society’s warped sexual morality.
With luck, someday we’ll be able to look back at that set of morals, and their consequences, with a cringe and a groan. Europeans largely do. When former French president François Mitterrand died in 1996, his wife invited the old codger’s mistress and his daughter by her to the funeral. Nobody blinked too much, and afterwards Mrs. Mitterrand received letters from other ‘illegitimate’ children, thanking her for helping to bring them out of the closet of social disrespect.
Perhaps the point is now moot where Eliot Spitzer is concerned. He threw in the towel as New York governor, consigning himself to a lifetime of his name being used as a Jay Leno punch-line, along with the likes of Larry Craig and Bill Clinton. And, anyhow, his case is complicated by the not inconsequential matter of his hypocrisy, his arrogance, and his altogether-too-gleeful profiting from the mistakes of others.
But just the same, isn’t it time that this country grows up a little and stops obsessing about other people’s rather basic human behaviors?
Wouldn’t we have all been better off in a world where Spitzer had apologized profusely – but privately – to his wife, and then gone back to work improving the lives of the people of New York?
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