One-Third Of Men To Sex: “Not Interested.”

Researchers are worried about a recent decline in sexual activity among young dudes. But should they be?

Men are having less sex than they did twenty years ago, says a new study published in the journal JAMA Network Open.

A third of the men surveyed said they hadn’t had sex in the last six months. That’s 1 out of 3 men. The survey’s researchers expressed worry about this trend citing how important sexual relationships are to mental health.

The study showed no decline in sexual activity among unmarried women and gay men. Those two groups are doin’ it on the regular just like they always have.

There are many possible reasons for men’s growing disinterest in sexual activity.

“There are now many more choices of things to do in the late evening than there once were and fewer opportunities to initiate sexual activity if both partners are engrossed in social media, electronic gaming, or binge-watching,” says Jean Twenge, who is part of the department of psychology at San Diego State University and contributed to the report.

The study gently blames technology for creating a generation of sexless shut-ins. I don’t know if I 100% believe that. Yes, there are more distractions than ever but it’s not like Reddit invented the introvert. There have always been shy dudes. And there have always been ways to avoid reality because reality has always been hard for some.

Other factors could include social status: men who were unemployed or just didn’t make a lot of money. Young heterosexual men may be discouraged from pursuing a sexual relationship with a woman because they believe their low socioeconomic status somehow disqualifies them.

I relate to that. I have felt like I’m not good enough to ask a woman out. When I was recently laid-off my self-esteem cratered like my savings. A man can be privileged and still feel worthless.

But the study’s researchers may be overreacting. There be another reason young men are deciding not to have sex: it’s worth waiting for.

As a young man, I had what I can only describe as James Bond Syndrome. I watched those movies on network TV growing up— each riddled with commercial breaks — and they made an impression.

I wanted to be James Bond when I grew up. A stylish, smirking, sex-crazed sociopath who breaks bones for the government. Yes, that’s a lot to unpack.

The famous fictional secret agent was a master of four stereotypically masculine skills: punching, drinking, and fucking. I’ll get to the fourth in a moment.

I want to write a bit about the holy trinity of high-value toxic abilities. I suppose there were also rock stars I idolized growing up who were good at punching, drinking, and fucking. A man could call himself a man if he was good at any one of those three things. It’s how we judged each other.

Insecure men respect other men who can abuse their liver, sweet talk women, and shit talk other men.

For instance: my only athletic skill was the ability to inhale Olympic-sized pools of beer. I was a legend at my local dive bar. I could drink until closing time and beyond.

I was also excellent at telling stories of sexual conquest that were absolute lies. I lost my virginity when I was 18 to my very first girlfriend and yet, for years before and after, I would, with lusty confidence, spin ribald tales of fuckery that would impress my male friends. A first date that ended on first base was always retold as a one-night stand.

I’m not proud of this but it is what it is (and it’s not much, mostly the memories of a man with an ego made out of teacups.)

I was no good in a fight. (I bleed easily.) But I liked to drink (because, spoiler alert, I was an alcoholic the whole time) and I liked to talk about sex. I thought sex was like tater tots — best enjoyed in quantity. James Bond had sex all the time with many women. That is what men were supposed to do.

A man’s man is thirsty and horny and angry. Sometimes all three at once. Sometimes only one. But those were the choices and no one told me back then that there are so many more choices for men.

I was twenty-five at the turn of the century. I had a problem with booze. I had no idea what intimacy was, and my sex life was mostly me passing out before my pants could come off. I was depressed and scared and lonely — lonely at crowded bars full of fair-weather friends, lonely in a strange woman’s bed, lonely living a messy one room fourth-floor walk-up where my ex and I had once lived.

That’s who I was. A long time ago. I was a man who stayed out late and partied and talked to women and every so often they’d think I was cute. And I was unhappy.

The fourth symbol of macho might is money. As the researchers point out, moolah maketh the man. Or that’s what men think. I’m sure there are women out there easily impressed by wealth. Human beings do love a base stereotype. James Bond is at his sexiest when he’s sitting behind towers of poker chips.

A man who can flash cash is put on a pedestal by other bros, too. It doesn’t really matter if that money came by hard work or daddy’s generosity, men who buy drinks get immediate, if temporary, alpha dog status.

But here’s the point: this study is almost hysterical. The best way to get laid is to make eye contact and listen and try to be a decent person. This doesn’t always work but when it works it works.

For far too many years I thought real men were horny terminators. Relentless fuck machines programmed to sleep with anyone who’d have them. If I couldn’t be rich or strong, then I would drink and screw.

Do young men think the way I thought? And, for the sake of argument, if they don’t think the way I thought, isn’t that a good thing?

Sex is far more complicated than I was ever led to believe. Sex is a pleasure, but it’s also a responsibility. Sex has a way of kicking down emotional doors. Sex is fun but sex is human, which. means it’s both literally and figuratively messy. Sex stirs up feelings you thought you’d locked away. Sex is about what you give, not what you take.

It took me years, and a good deal of therapy, to learn that sex is a conversation between two people. That means sex is listening and talking, taking, and giving. It’s an emotional contact sport, two hearts high-fiving.

I, too, worry about people who can’t connect with others. But maybe some of these young men the researchers interviewed are having less sex because they’re choosing to have less sex. I don’t want to think that all the dudes questioned in that report are socially-maladjusted incel basement goblins who hate women. I’m sure a few are, but I don’t think violent male misogynists are a recent development. Men who hate women and sex have been part of humanity since the get-go — look at organized religion.

But I want to have faith there are younger dudes who don’t want the emotional turmoil of casual, beer-fueled hookups. There were times I didn’t call back. Sometimes I didn’t call back because I was a supremely self-absorbed man-brat. Sometimes I didn’t call back because I didn’t know what to do with my feelings.

It didn’t matter if I buried them in a shallow grave or sealed them in a tomb, my feelings would find me. Joys I didn’t understand, sorrows that terrified me. Drunk or naked the pain always comes home.

My life may have been slightly different if I had made better, sober, sexual choices in my 20s. I like to think there are young men right now deciding that quality is more important than quantity when it comes to getting laid. All it takes is meeting one person and having an open and honest conversation on the street… and then in the sheets.

I am not a scientist. This report could be a red flag that America’s men are truly in a crisis and need to start knocking boots ASAP. I like to think there are young men in their 20s right now who are smarter than I was in my 20s… and 30s.

In conclusion, James Bond dies a lonely old man shouting out the names of women who have long forgotten him.