Is Gen Z Turning against Casual Sex?

I n a recent essay for the New York Times titled “When We Consent, We Shouldn’t Feel Terrible After, Right?” recent University of Virginia graduate Emma Camp, an editor at Reason who previously made waves with a piece in the Times criticizing the suppression of free discourse on campus, critiques how our societal betters teach young people about sex. She recounts a freshman orientation she helped with at her school, which taught students how to handle the prospect of sexual situations on campus.

In response to an epidemic of sexual assault on campus, her university and many others put a major emphasis on teaching students how to ask for consent. While consent is vital to a healthy sexual encounter, members of Generation Z have been taught that it is the only thing necessary for a good experience with sex, Camp argues. There are many other aspects of a good sex life, she says, such as commitment, trust, and emotional security, and sexual education must reflect that.

Camp’s piece is one sign of a cultural shift that is happening among Zoomers. Having grown up being sold the lie that older generations produced with the “free love” movement of the 1960s and continue to perpetuate in the present day, they are beginning to realize the unfortunate objectification that comes with that sort of culture. As a result, Gen-Z culture is beginning to reflect on the problems with casual sex.

Zoomers become familiar with unfulfilling sex very early in life thanks to an apparatus that feeds into this regime, the pornography industry. Although America has laws that do not allow minors to watch porn, they are evidently ineffective, as the average age of exposure to it is 13 years old, according to the American Psychological Association, with some studies estimating it to be as low as eleven. Gen-Z children, unequipped to look at porn with an attitude of skepticism, grow up watching it and accepting its depictions of sex as a purely transactional act.

Pop star Billie Eilish articulated the plight of young people to Howard Stern in December. Eilish, then 19, said she started watching porn at eleven and called it a “disgrace” that “really destroyed my brain, and I feel incredibly devastated that I was exposed to so much porn.” Additionally, it distorted her view of sex. “The first few times I, you know, had sex, I was not saying no to things that were not good. It was because I thought that’s what I was supposed to be attracted to,” she said.

After spending their preteen and early teen years being miseducated by porn, Zoomers begin their sex lives with this awful view and accept it as the norm, leading them to engage in meaningless sex much like their forebears. But they may be discovering that the attitude impressed upon them is unfulfilling, as evidenced by the types of media toward which they gravitate. Teen dramas often reflect the attitudes of their audience; they are not high art meant to challenge the views of the target audience, so their messaging can help to gauge the beliefs of young people.

One popular show, Netflix’s Bridgerton, suggests young people’s dissatisfaction. While critical of the puritanical view of sex it depicts as predominant in early 19th-century England, it does not let casual sex off the hook. A central element of the first season is the reformation of Simon Bassett, the love interest and eventual husband of the titular Daphne Bridgerton. Before meeting Daphne, Simon is a rake, but the show praises his turn away from sleeping with a different woman nearly every night and toward devoting himself to loving and caring for his wife. Throughout the rest of the show, sex scenes, even when premarital, are the result of commitment between the two characters.

Another Netflix show to handle the topic is Outer Banks, which depicts the main character, poor orphan John B. Routledge, in his search for hidden treasure. One subplot is his relationship with Sarah Cameron, his love interest, who is unsure if she wants to take her relationship with her current boyfriend, Topper, “to the next level.” After she breaks up with Topper and begins dating John B., the lovebirds discuss the subject of sex. John B. describes his first time, a hookup with a random tourist from Cincinnati. “I felt like sh**,” he says, describing his feelings after the encounter, and the two come to a consensus that casual sex is unfulfilling.

This is not to say that Zoomers are ready to adopt the teachings of traditional Christian sexual morality. Bridgerton has no condemnation for its committed couples who engage in the marital act out of wedlock, and Outer Banks sees John B. and Sarah have sex literally right after that conversation. Additionally, the attitude with which these two shows approach the topic is not universal. Other media, such as the CW’s Riverdale, completely diminish the moral gravity of sex.

Nor does this dissatisfaction stem from an ideologically based moral opposition. It is simply the result of a generation feeling the effects of being ravaged by a view of sex that degrades both the act itself and those involved. Zoomers are discovering that, contrary to the impression given to them by their college administrators, healthy sexual relationships require more than just consent. With this realization comes the possibility of creating a generation more devoted to marriage. If more commitment makes sex more fulfilling, then the logical conclusion is that sex is the most fulfilling when it involves the most commitment, which is to say, in marriage. Having received a raw deal, Gen Z is discovering that the advice of older generations was misguided. Our young people have their problems, but they evidently have the capability to improve. Maybe the kids will be alright after all.