Sexuality Denuded

What a week for Harvard sexuality! This seems such an incongruous sentence--sexuality and Harvard in the same breath. But between those brightly colored posters ("Come on now, don't be silly, put a condom on your willy") emblazoned across kiosks and in stairwells and the computerized dating service brought to us by the Undergraduate Council and the Harvard Computer Society, our campus seems rife with overt sexuality--and rearing to go for Valentine's Day. For a college not known for its throbbing sex life, Harvard appears to be doing all right.

However, a closer examination of these two sexual phenomena--data match and Condom Week--reveals a slightly more complex picture. Whereas a cursory analysis of this week's Valentine's-Day-inspired activities would indicate carefree kids gone wild about sex and dating (and maybe if they're lucky, both), the underlying motivation behind Condom Week and Datamatch is significantly more conservative.

Let's explore the theory behind Condom Week. While Condom Week is predicated on the assumption that people are having sex, the more central issue is that sex--at least sans condom--is dangerous. As one of the wittier posters made clear, sex with a condom is like sleeping with a lifeguard; sex without it, however, is commensurably lethal. Although the sponsors of Condom Week cushioned their message in fluorescent-colored poster paper and humorous ditties, the essence of their project was to spread the word that sex, despite the casual tone, is far from casual. At the most literal level, the promulgators of the condom ethic are telling Harvard students to slow down, for at least the time it takes to put on a condom. At a more general level, the conviction that is driving Condom Week is essentially a conservative one: if you are having sex, the message rings, be cautious.

Shall we turn to data match? According to Tally Zingher '99, a council member and one of the coordinators of the project, approximately 800 Harvard undergraduates--nearly an eighth of the total College populace--participated in the computerized search for the ultimate mate. On first inspection, the surprisingly strong level of interest seems to indicate a campus that is looking for a good time in the manifold ways that good times happen, be they technologically driven or otherwise. After all, the idea that 800 Harvard students are interested in going out seems breathtaking--and commendable in and of itself.

However, once again, a second look at the sources of data matching's popularity complicates our simple analysis. Datamatch can only be successful if people feel that romance is not very likely to occur on its own; in other words, the appeal of Datamatch is born of a deep disillusionment with any natural prospects for a social life. In a peculiarly 90's twist, the technical precision of the computer fills the role that spontaneity--or a good-hearted matchmaker--played in the more personal days of yesteryear.

But the element of Datamatch that is particularly interesting is its ultimate goal. The purpose of the service is to find yourself a serious relationship, not a one night stand. One piece of lore that now surrounds Datamatch is of a couple who met their first year through the service and who, now seniors, are still together. As this true tale implies, the ideal of the program is not to add another five names to your random hook-up list, but to find the person with whom you hope to be truly committed--in the end, a highly conservative mission.

It seems that this trend toward increasingly cautious sexuality is not exclusive to the Harvard campus. The fear of HIV has been (not inappropriately) latched on to sex, and people are taking precautions. However, influenced as our generation is by the "looser" mores born of the sexual revolution, our sexual conservatism is clothed in risque attire. We hide our concerns about the implications of sexuality behind witty posters that seem to extol sex; we subscribe en masse to a big dating game, with the hopes of finding our truly compatible mate. Perhaps that is the irony of our era--we talk the talk of sexual freedom, and then retreat to our computer dating services with a bag full of condoms.

This is not to say that precautions are unnecessary. Quite the contrary, the dangers associated with irresponsible or promiscuous sex are real. Nonetheless, this move to conservatism is a phenomenon worth taking note of, because we do not fully understand its implications. Datamatch and Condom Week may be examples of our generation's attempts to preserve some semblance of romance in a world that reminds us that romance could be dangerous. The possibility we have yet to grapple with is that our cautious technology may have denuded sexuality of its mystique and, concomitantly, some of its excitement. That probably means that we can look forward to many more Valentine's Day posters and condom celebrations. I think I'd prefer flowers.

Talia Milgrom-Elcott's column appears on alternate Fridays.