In the final part of this chapter, I explore people’s reactions to the idea that a certain percentage (e.g., 1 percent) of humanity is, in fact, asexual, including the “As if!” reaction mentioned earlier.
At the outset, though, let me offer one qualification. Despite the “As if!” reaction introduced this chapter, I do not want to leave the reader with the impression that all people have reacted with disbelief—many, if not most, people have seemed to accept that a small minority of humanity is asexual. Also, as I will discuss later in the chapter, some have actually indicated surprise that the original figure (1 percent) is so low. Relatedly, my sense is that some people have reacted with relief to the suggestion that a certain percentage of humanity is asexual. Why relief? I think some people may feel relieved, if only secretly, to know that not all people are extremely sexual beings, or that one does not have to be extremely sexual to be a contented, functioning person in society. There is a lot of pressure to be very sexual in our society (e.g., from the mass media; see also chapter 7 on identity formation), so knowing that some people are completely asexual, and perhaps relatively happy being so, may be a bit of a relief for some (average) sexual people. It takes the pressure off them to know that, by comparison, their sex lives are fairly active, and that they do not have to be the super-sexed athlete the media often suggest is the norm.
But let’s come back to the doubters and deconstruct the “As if!” reaction: Why do some people feel that less than 1 percent of the population is asexual, and who exactly are these doubters?
One explanation for the “As if!” reaction is that the doubters are right, and thus their skepticism of this figure may not be misplaced. After all, we may not have an accurate tally of the number of asexual people. Even the sarcasm inherent in this “As if!” reaction may not be misplaced, as the figure could be lower (perhaps even much lower) than 1 percent. Thus, these doubters could be wise people, knowledgeable in the ways of the world, and not easily taken in by potentially misguided scientific claims.
A second explanation is that this skepticism reflects, at least partly, a human tendency to believe that everyone must be just like us. Social psychologists have labeled this bias the false consensus effect (e.g., Ross, Greene, & House, 1977). Thus, if I feel sexual, then everyone else must be sexual too, or just as sexual as I am. So, it is an understandable reaction that some people can’t believe in asexuality, because everyone, at times, is prone to these kinds of false consensus reactions. We all live in our little insulated worlds, and it is sometimes hard to imagine that something very different exists beyond it.[18]
But who exactly are the most likely doubters? Interestingly, they seem to be, almost invariably, men. Perhaps this says something about male sexuality: that it emerges with such a punch in the groin at adolescence, thanks largely to pubertal testosterone (Udry, Billy, Morris, Groff, & Raj, 1985), and generally sustains itself as such a major force in many men’s lives, that some men cannot perceive it could be otherwise in others; hence, they have a false consensus that everyone has a high, male-like, sexual attraction and drive.
Conversely, more women than men have questioned whether this figure was too low. Is this also a false consensus effect? If women have a lower sex drive than men, and their sexual attractions are more flexible than men’s (see chapter 6), perhaps they assume that a disproportionately high number of people are similarly inclined (i.e., have low sexual drives and/or lack sexual attraction)? Hmmm, only this low, huh? I expected the figure to be much higher….[19]
I’ve also noted that some gay men seem to be the most suspicious of asexual people. This is partially understandable because gay men, of course, are also part of the high testosterone brood—men. But there may be other reasons as well. First, openly gay people, especially those with a bit of seasoning in the sexual marketplace, are often astute enough to know that people claiming one sexual identity (e.g., “I am bisexual,” “I am heterosexual”) at one point in their lives may “come out” as gay years later. I, too, do not discount the possibility that some asexual people, or those who identify as such, might be gay people in waiting, although I suspect that this does not apply to the majority of asexual people.
An additional reason why some gay men may be opposed to accepting a 1 percent (or more) prevalence rate may concern justice sensitivity. Gay and lesbian people have often fought hard for the right to be accepted in Western society as a visible minority. Thus, although most gays and lesbians seem very accepting of sexual variations, some may be justifiably sensitive to issues related to their own rights and recognition. Now there is a new kid on the block, perhaps encroaching on their hard-fought and hard-won space. Does yet another sexual minority in some way diminish the status of the original sexual minority group? Perhaps some gay and lesbians believe so, if only on an implicit level. Relatedly, I expect that all humans, as social psychologists have argued, have a tendency to dislike the “out-group” and, sadly and concomitantly, to force to the back of the metaphorical bus ever more marginalized groups, even among those who believe that they themselves are near the back of the bus already.
Summary
Even when we rely on information from national probability samples, we cannot know for sure how many asexual people exist, although my original estimate of 1 percent may not be a bad figure to work with for now. There are various reasons (e.g., health, demographic, political) why such prevalence figures are important and of interest; thus, the tallying and head counting of sexual minorities is not likely to go away soon. Why people believe or do not believe (i.e., the “As if!” reaction) in the current estimates of sexual minorities may have less to do with the quality of the scientific studies surveying this issue (although this factor should not be discounted) and more to do with human cognitive biases (e.g., the false consensus effect). The fact that sexuality so often and so strongly evokes these biases—even when discussing asexuality—reaffirms a main theme in this book: sex is deeply embedded in our psyches and our cultures, and not just in our genitals.
18
Even though we all have this bias to some degree, one of the more intriguing experiences in life is, arguably, being faced with the incontrovertible evidence of human diversity. It often makes our lives richer, although perhaps a lot less predictable. So, while we may want to believe (and hope) that everyone is like us, when faced with evidence to the contrary, it may be initially threatening but, ultimately, often life affirming.
19
In the last two paragraphs, I expect I offended both men and women. In my defense, although lots of variability exists within each sex, there is also strong evidence that men, on average, have a higher sex drive than women do, and that women are more flexible in their sex drives/attractions (see also chapter 6) (Baumeister, 2000; Baumeister, Catanese, & Vohs, 2001).