Understanding Asexuality

Some of these points are arguable, perhaps, but what is likely not arguable is that our cultural products are strongly influenced in ways beyond our realization by human sexual attractions and how these play themselves out in the society in which the artist lives. If so—to return to our original question—what would our art galleries be like if all the artists were completely asexual? Before I answer this question, however, let me address a caveat: There may exist now or in the past asexual artists who, in their art, give commentary on being asexual in a sexual world. Thus, asexual people might still produce “sexual” art as a form of social or personal commentary. But I am more curious about what kind of art asexual artists would produce if they ruled the art world and their asexual brethren ruled the rest of the world. In other words, what would it be like if art had no aesthetic linkage to sexuality whatsoever?{Of course, if we were an asexual species, our bodies would be radically different, particularly the genitals and secondary sex characteristics (see chapter 3). Thus the depiction of the nude human body in art would also necessarily be different. But indulge me here and assume that our bodies would be the same as they are now, as this exercise partly concerns how a sexual species with an elaborate culture, like ours, creates products infused with sex.} Would depicting a nude (and the genitals in particular) have the same fascination, and garner the same attention, as depicting, say, the middle toe does for sexual artists? I expect that in a completely asexual world, art would be very different indeed. Thus, the current bevy of nude paintings—even those that on the surface seem not to have a sexual connection, but undoubtedly do, such as Dürer’s Adam and Eve—would turn into a scattered few. Moreover, all of this to-do about what is “nude” and what is “naked” deeply reflects our sexual natures, along with our personal and cultural neuroticism about them. Thus, if we were all truly asexual, such distinctions would not arise in the first place; they would be nonissues.

My analysis here suggests that culture (or at least the meanings we derive from it) is not randomly generated but instead reflects, at least partly, our basic wishes, desires, and preferences—in short, our individual and our collective human natures. And, of course, for most people, that nature is sexual. Humans are also very visual animals, and thus it is not surprising that our sexualized pop culture and art reflects this visual acuity and fascination. So human art is particularly likely to be a visual reflection of our basic wishes, desires, and preferences, including our sexual ones. If dogs ruled the world—and, of course, some dog owners believe that this is already so—then there might be equally elaborate smell-oriented pop culture and art that reflected canines’ basics wishes, desires, and preferences, including sexual ones. Of course, the idea that culture partially maps onto human nature is not new, as there are many theories of culture that include as a tenet that human inclinations create, select, and give meaning to cultural products.{Therefore, my view would be similar to those of numerous (and even more biologically oriented) theorists who have written on the intermingling of biological tendencies and culture. These theorists often do not pull punches and are upfront about biology, or at least biological processes, taking the reins of the cultural horse, by offering such titles as Genes, Mind and Culture: The Coevolutionary Process (Lumsden & Wilson, 1981) and Culture and the Evolutionary Process (Boyd & Richerson, 1985). Richard Dawkins has also argued (e.g., in The Selfish Gene, 1976) that cultural ideas, like genes, are “selected for” (like Darwin’s natural selection) if they have a special resonance with people in a given time or place. He calls them “memes,” and, yes, it is probably no coincidence that this word sort of rhymes with “genes.” Note, however, that by suggesting a similarity between my view and these biologically oriented theories of culture, I don’t mean to imply that all of our wishes, desires, and preferences are fully biologically determined. They are not.}

Would an asexual person’s presumed lack of sexual aesthetics extend to a lack of appreciation for all aspects of beauty in the human form? I noted in chapter 3 (on history) that one asexual man, the famous mathematician Paul Erdos, was preoccupied, including aesthetically, by mathematics: “If numbers aren’t beautiful, I don’t know what is” (Schechter, 1998, p. 7).