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Devices and Desires: A History of Contraceptives in America
From thriving black market to big business, the commercialization of birth control in the United States
In Devices and Desires , Andrea Tone breaks new ground by showing what it was really like to buy, produce, and use contraceptives during a century of profound social and technological change. A down-and-out sausage-casing worker by day who turned surplus animal intestines into a million-dollar condom enterprise at night; inventors who fashioned cervical caps out of watch springs; and a mother of six who kissed photographs of the inventor of the Pill -- these are just a few of the individuals who make up this riveting story.
In Devices and Desires , Andrea Tone breaks new ground by showing what it was really like to buy, produce, and use contraceptives during a century of profound social and technological change. A down-and-out sausage-casing worker by day who turned surplus animal intestines into a million-dollar condom enterprise at night; inventors who fashioned cervical caps out of watch springs; and a mother of six who kissed photographs of the inventor of the Pill -- these are just a few of the individuals who make up this riveting story.
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews
December 21, 2017
This is a good book on the struggle to attain control of reproduction in the U.S. The author contrasts this with European countries where, for example, the condom has never been stigmatized as it has been in the U.S.
There has always been a contest to overcome the “sexual puritans”. During the First World War these puritans expressed outrage on the thought that troops should be provided with condoms; instead they were given moral lectures on abstinence. It didn’t work. More and more troops became incapable of fighting due to venereal diseases.
The euphemism surrounding birth control in the 1930’s and 1940’s was incredible. The words “douching” and “feminine hygiene” were a camouflage to indicate “birth control”. These euphemisms were also false advertising because they were ineffective.
The author outlines how birth control became more accepted, not as a way to prevent conception, but as a medical benefit to prevent the spread of venereal diseases or to prevent conception in a marriage where, for example, the woman had physiological issues to pregnancy.
The medicalization of the pill also made contraception “acceptable” because it was now in the hands of doctors. The doctor became the legal conduit to put in place a birth control method. Contrast this to the condom which has always been marketplace centred, but obviously male dependent.
In the long run the constant battle of access to birth control has always been opposed by the “religious” to restrict sex as strictly procreative, as opposed to a personal freeing of the human body for sexual pleasure.
The author presents well the pros and cons of the pill. She discusses the IUD Dalkon Shield and how this became a disaster for many women. However she hardly brings up other types of IUD’s.
Also, given the medicalization of birth control, with its dependencies on doctors and clinics – for the pill, IUD’s, and diaphragms, there were no observations on the medical professions moral attitude to making these “devices” available to unmarried women, teenage girls, and married women with no children. My understanding is that many states in the U.S. have legal restrictions on the right of teenage girls to birth control.
All women and young girls (I would say especially young girls) should have access to any form of birth control. It should be a mandatory part of the high school education program. And of course “sexual harassment” must be a part of this. Stop talking solely about abstinence and teach the meaning of consensual sex. And an essential aspect of consensual sex must be birth control. So much for this rant.
Various aspects of birth control are well brought out in this book – and overall it is good at showing both the pros and cons of different methods. It also has a good historical perspective of their development and popularity.
Macolm X said that the wording “birth control” should be changed to “family planning” as the word “control” has nefarious connotations for some. What about the phrase “birth planning”; “family” suggests marriage, family involvement...
There has always been a contest to overcome the “sexual puritans”. During the First World War these puritans expressed outrage on the thought that troops should be provided with condoms; instead they were given moral lectures on abstinence. It didn’t work. More and more troops became incapable of fighting due to venereal diseases.
The euphemism surrounding birth control in the 1930’s and 1940’s was incredible. The words “douching” and “feminine hygiene” were a camouflage to indicate “birth control”. These euphemisms were also false advertising because they were ineffective.
The author outlines how birth control became more accepted, not as a way to prevent conception, but as a medical benefit to prevent the spread of venereal diseases or to prevent conception in a marriage where, for example, the woman had physiological issues to pregnancy.
The medicalization of the pill also made contraception “acceptable” because it was now in the hands of doctors. The doctor became the legal conduit to put in place a birth control method. Contrast this to the condom which has always been marketplace centred, but obviously male dependent.
In the long run the constant battle of access to birth control has always been opposed by the “religious” to restrict sex as strictly procreative, as opposed to a personal freeing of the human body for sexual pleasure.
The author presents well the pros and cons of the pill. She discusses the IUD Dalkon Shield and how this became a disaster for many women. However she hardly brings up other types of IUD’s.
Also, given the medicalization of birth control, with its dependencies on doctors and clinics – for the pill, IUD’s, and diaphragms, there were no observations on the medical professions moral attitude to making these “devices” available to unmarried women, teenage girls, and married women with no children. My understanding is that many states in the U.S. have legal restrictions on the right of teenage girls to birth control.
All women and young girls (I would say especially young girls) should have access to any form of birth control. It should be a mandatory part of the high school education program. And of course “sexual harassment” must be a part of this. Stop talking solely about abstinence and teach the meaning of consensual sex. And an essential aspect of consensual sex must be birth control. So much for this rant.
Various aspects of birth control are well brought out in this book – and overall it is good at showing both the pros and cons of different methods. It also has a good historical perspective of their development and popularity.
Macolm X said that the wording “birth control” should be changed to “family planning” as the word “control” has nefarious connotations for some. What about the phrase “birth planning”; “family” suggests marriage, family involvement...
December 24, 2010
I think I would have gotten more out of this book if Tone had gone in a coherent chronological order. However, with all of her jumping around, it was a hard to develop a real sense of timeline which would have greatly helped with analyzing changing attitudes toward contraception (especially concerning individuals such as Margaret Sanger). I did really like the chapter on the military's shifting stances on prophylactics (and the recurring discovery that just telling men to be abstinent does nothing to cut down on VD while overseas). The tone is rather dry, and I somehow expected something more from the book, though it does provide an overview of contraception use in the US and an extensive notes and references section which could be used for further investigation.
February 13, 2012
Lots of interesting information, of course. But as historical analysis, this book fails completely. It reads the past through the lens of the present as if the present was obviously morally superior. There is no attempt to think through the issues, so it draws a very skewed sketch of the past.
May 16, 2017
Did you know that Lysol used to be marketed as a contraceptive douche? Does that fact fascinate you on about five different levels? If so, read this book.
May 5, 2025
Andrea Tone offers a fascinating and well-researched history of contraceptive devices in American history. She covers everything from 19th century methods to condom distribution to sailors in WWI to the development of the pill and its modern-day alternatives. Her writing is engaging, and there are lots of illustrations from historical sources. This is definitely not a dry history book!
September 19, 2015
This book covers the history of contraceptive devices in America from the mid-1800s to the late 20th-century, from the condom to the Depo-Provera birth control shot, from the black-market trade to a thriving multi-million dollar medical industry. Andrea Tone covers the controversy, the danger, and the freedom contraception provided to the American people. She also explores how the increasing medicalization of birth control has both benefitted and hurt the American public. Lots of information and things to think about.
I really liked this book, although I thought it would cover more time in American history. As is, it only covers about 100 years of contraception. The book covers religious, scientific, political, and feminist aspects of contraception; pretty brilliantly I might add. I learned a great deal from this book, although since it was written in 2001 it could definitely use an update covering the "Obamacare" debates over birth control and other developments that have happened in the last 14 years. If you are interested in the subject at all I highly recommend this book.
I really liked this book, although I thought it would cover more time in American history. As is, it only covers about 100 years of contraception. The book covers religious, scientific, political, and feminist aspects of contraception; pretty brilliantly I might add. I learned a great deal from this book, although since it was written in 2001 it could definitely use an update covering the "Obamacare" debates over birth control and other developments that have happened in the last 14 years. If you are interested in the subject at all I highly recommend this book.
December 29, 2012
A well-detailed history of contraception in America, starting with Comstock and ending more or less in modern times, where we have a dazzling array of highly effective options but lingering dissatisfaction. The chapters on the early condom industry provided colorful insight into the origins of a now highly standardized device, and the history of toxic douches and the Dalkon Shield provided important counter-examples to any romanticization of the the freewheeling days of contraceptive experimentation. Tone's main theme concerns the medicalization of contraceptive technology and the balance between handing over control of women's fertility to doctors and protecting women from dangerous quackery (mostly for the better, the debate was won by increasing medicalization). In the future, it may be possible to strike an even better balance between these factors, but we've certainly come a long way.
May 27, 2016
Did I really start this book in July of 2012?!? So right off the bat, I can say that Devices and Desires did not capture my rapt attention. I will say even if it wasn't completely engaging, it was full of great information; if you're passionate about birth control, definitely read this book to get a good groundwork of how opinions about contraceptives have shaped and changed our culture. The last couple of chapters on the Pill and IUD's were really interesting, so definitely don't skip those even if you struggle to get through the first half of the book.
May 16, 2012
Title slightly off as most of the imformation seems to be Victorian era and the age of Comstock laws, not so much on the early history but still overall a facinating glimpse of birth control.
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March 23, 2014Andrea Tones’ Devices & Desires: A History of Contraceptives in America (2001) challenges outdated understandings of sexual knowledge and practice with an examination of the birth control industry under Comstock. Utilizing trade journals, business records, personal papers, medical studies, credit reports, and arrest records, Tone presents a business and social history in three parts, beginning with an examination of a black-market era of the late nineteenth century. Ultimately, she asserts that the greatest continuity in the history of birth control is the extent to which sexually active individuals turned to the marketplace to meet their contraceptive needs, irrespective of the legal status of birth control.
Victorians were familiar with several manufactured contraceptive choices, which were readily available from small shops or by mail order until the Comstock Act deemed them obscene. Tone stresses that the law’s demonization of contraceptives was a response to their commercial visibility, not to their invention or use. The sale of condoms and abortifacients in early America provide evidence of a fledgling contraceptive industry, while developments beginning in the 1830s enhanced its place in the public marketplace. Vulcanization technology invented by Charles Goodyear gave rise to the domestic manufacture of condoms, intrauterine devices, douching syringes, womb veils (the nineteenth-century term for diaphragms and cervical caps), and male caps, which Tone describes as shields that covered only the tip of the penis, offering less protection from pregnancy than condoms but greater stimulation to the wearer.
While scholars have often characterized Comstock as the beginning of birth control’s bleakest chapter, when only a privileged few could afford services of sympathetic doctors or of a dwindling number of merchants willing to ignore the law, Tone asserts that sexually active Victorians in cities across America continued to purchase a host of manufactured contraceptives. She cites an abundance of evidence – from arrest records to credit reports, trade catalogues, trial transcripts, advertisements, patents, medical literature, and private letters between lovers and friends – that points to a scenario in which legal leniency, entrepreneurial savvy, and cross-class consumer support enabled the black market in birth control to thrive. Tone makes clear that her findings do not point to a hitherto unrecognized golden age of safe or effective birth control. “They do, however, call into question assumptions of draconian enforcement of birth control restrictions and shed new light on sexual practices as they were defined by ordinary Victorians…Not openly endorsed, contraceptives were nonetheless accepted as Americans of all backgrounds created a zone of tolerance in which birth control was routinely made, sold, bought, and used” (Tone, p. 26).
Tone turns to letters shared between Albert and Violet Janin, also featured in Lystra’s work, to illustrate the limits of Comstock. The couple was married on May 14, 1874, fourteen months after the law was passed. From Albert’s boasts of “hymen breaking” Tone surmises that Violet’s first experience of intercourse occurred that night. Due to a fear of childbearing, the new bride anxiously awaited the onset of her menstrual period. As we have already learned, Albert supported Violet’s goal to avoid pregnancy, and managed the couple’s use of the rhythm method. What Tone adds to the story is that Violet did not trust the technique, and her letters to Albert, who worked away from home for much of the year, were plagued with worry. The couple eventually discussed the possibility of using condoms, a method that might be more reliable. In November, Violet asked if he could find something he had told her about and Albert apparently had no trouble securing a supply. “‘I have managed to procure some things I have once or twice spoken to you about. Can you guess what they are?” he wrote playfully…and what emerges from the Janins’ prose is not pangs of guilt for breaking the law but shared resolve to keep Violet from getting pregnant, whatever the cost” (Tone, p. 42-43).
Victorian lovers like the Janins, willing to break the law to avoid pregnancy, created a market for entrepreneurs, including Joseph Backrach, a German-born immigrant and father of seven who made condoms and male caps from his Brooklyn home. According to Tone, his 1885 inventory included more than twelve thousand such devices. She also explains that Backrach’s competition came not from large rubber manufactures who had national reputations to protect, but from smaller players, many of whom also cobbled together birth control devices in their homes to become central players in the illicit world of contraceptive manufacture. Like Backrach, many of these entrepreneurs were immigrants, sometimes women, and few possessed a formal education. “Denied the credit and social or educational credentials needed to claim professional respectability or ascend the financial ladder, they were drawn to a trade whose illegitimate character and low-capital requirements made it welcoming to ordinary people” (Tone, p. 47).
While Comstock did not stop the manufacture, sale, and use of contraceptives, it created other potential harms. Sexual knowledge deemed obscene could only be shared in private, eliminating the possibility of public discussion of efficacy. During this black-market era, contraceptives were illicit goods to be confiscated, not merchandise to be regulated and inspected. Without government safeguards to protect consumers from unscrupulous merchants and shoddy wares, America’s birth control buyers were on their own. Refusing to let their procreative destinies be held hostage by absent safeguards, women and men invented strategies to shield themselves from quackery. They shared experiences with family and friends and sought advice from experienced contraceptors. To better the odds of pregnancy prevention they used multiple contraceptives at once, while yearning for superlative devices that felt and worked better. “The precautions did not eliminate heart-break, pain, or pregnancy. But they apparently helped. National fertility rates dropped steadily after 1880, most sharply among African-Americans. In 1910, only France had a lower birthrate in the Western world” (Tone, p. 68).
Victorians were familiar with several manufactured contraceptive choices, which were readily available from small shops or by mail order until the Comstock Act deemed them obscene. Tone stresses that the law’s demonization of contraceptives was a response to their commercial visibility, not to their invention or use. The sale of condoms and abortifacients in early America provide evidence of a fledgling contraceptive industry, while developments beginning in the 1830s enhanced its place in the public marketplace. Vulcanization technology invented by Charles Goodyear gave rise to the domestic manufacture of condoms, intrauterine devices, douching syringes, womb veils (the nineteenth-century term for diaphragms and cervical caps), and male caps, which Tone describes as shields that covered only the tip of the penis, offering less protection from pregnancy than condoms but greater stimulation to the wearer.
While scholars have often characterized Comstock as the beginning of birth control’s bleakest chapter, when only a privileged few could afford services of sympathetic doctors or of a dwindling number of merchants willing to ignore the law, Tone asserts that sexually active Victorians in cities across America continued to purchase a host of manufactured contraceptives. She cites an abundance of evidence – from arrest records to credit reports, trade catalogues, trial transcripts, advertisements, patents, medical literature, and private letters between lovers and friends – that points to a scenario in which legal leniency, entrepreneurial savvy, and cross-class consumer support enabled the black market in birth control to thrive. Tone makes clear that her findings do not point to a hitherto unrecognized golden age of safe or effective birth control. “They do, however, call into question assumptions of draconian enforcement of birth control restrictions and shed new light on sexual practices as they were defined by ordinary Victorians…Not openly endorsed, contraceptives were nonetheless accepted as Americans of all backgrounds created a zone of tolerance in which birth control was routinely made, sold, bought, and used” (Tone, p. 26).
Tone turns to letters shared between Albert and Violet Janin, also featured in Lystra’s work, to illustrate the limits of Comstock. The couple was married on May 14, 1874, fourteen months after the law was passed. From Albert’s boasts of “hymen breaking” Tone surmises that Violet’s first experience of intercourse occurred that night. Due to a fear of childbearing, the new bride anxiously awaited the onset of her menstrual period. As we have already learned, Albert supported Violet’s goal to avoid pregnancy, and managed the couple’s use of the rhythm method. What Tone adds to the story is that Violet did not trust the technique, and her letters to Albert, who worked away from home for much of the year, were plagued with worry. The couple eventually discussed the possibility of using condoms, a method that might be more reliable. In November, Violet asked if he could find something he had told her about and Albert apparently had no trouble securing a supply. “‘I have managed to procure some things I have once or twice spoken to you about. Can you guess what they are?” he wrote playfully…and what emerges from the Janins’ prose is not pangs of guilt for breaking the law but shared resolve to keep Violet from getting pregnant, whatever the cost” (Tone, p. 42-43).
Victorian lovers like the Janins, willing to break the law to avoid pregnancy, created a market for entrepreneurs, including Joseph Backrach, a German-born immigrant and father of seven who made condoms and male caps from his Brooklyn home. According to Tone, his 1885 inventory included more than twelve thousand such devices. She also explains that Backrach’s competition came not from large rubber manufactures who had national reputations to protect, but from smaller players, many of whom also cobbled together birth control devices in their homes to become central players in the illicit world of contraceptive manufacture. Like Backrach, many of these entrepreneurs were immigrants, sometimes women, and few possessed a formal education. “Denied the credit and social or educational credentials needed to claim professional respectability or ascend the financial ladder, they were drawn to a trade whose illegitimate character and low-capital requirements made it welcoming to ordinary people” (Tone, p. 47).
While Comstock did not stop the manufacture, sale, and use of contraceptives, it created other potential harms. Sexual knowledge deemed obscene could only be shared in private, eliminating the possibility of public discussion of efficacy. During this black-market era, contraceptives were illicit goods to be confiscated, not merchandise to be regulated and inspected. Without government safeguards to protect consumers from unscrupulous merchants and shoddy wares, America’s birth control buyers were on their own. Refusing to let their procreative destinies be held hostage by absent safeguards, women and men invented strategies to shield themselves from quackery. They shared experiences with family and friends and sought advice from experienced contraceptors. To better the odds of pregnancy prevention they used multiple contraceptives at once, while yearning for superlative devices that felt and worked better. “The precautions did not eliminate heart-break, pain, or pregnancy. But they apparently helped. National fertility rates dropped steadily after 1880, most sharply among African-Americans. In 1910, only France had a lower birthrate in the Western world” (Tone, p. 68).
August 14, 2014
This was such an interesting book. It was fascinating and cringe-worthy in turns (merciful heavens was it cringe-worthy), and I enjoyed it from beginning to end. As an American, the evolution of contraceptives in this country, from on the streets to over the counter to the doctor's office. It's good information to file away, especially in light of the current discussions about universal healthcare and birth control. The extreme racism and classism of the eugenics movement, and how it was intimately associated with the push to "legitimatize" contraceptives is a lesson I'll not soon forget.
My only complaint about the book was that the author constantly conflated sex and gender identity. This is a serious problem that needs to be addressed among birth control advocates, and I was unhappy to see it reinforced here. Just something to think about.
My only complaint about the book was that the author constantly conflated sex and gender identity. This is a serious problem that needs to be addressed among birth control advocates, and I was unhappy to see it reinforced here. Just something to think about.
November 12, 2015
Great info from the Comstock Act forward, but nothing prior. Tacking on a year range to the title would have given me a better sense of what I was choosing to read alongside my other comp exam books. It said little to me in the way of actual gender concerns which disappointed me. Still, lots about the competitive contraceptive market...which made me glad to be alive now. Some of the umm, adverse side effects? Well they were properly horrifying. Vaginal burns, mercury poisoning, disfigured fetuses, internal apparatus gouging your partner's dick....
The highlight of this book was definitely the bit about gonorrhea treatments for men from the mid-1800s. Cure your curved manhood: Put your junk on a table and smash it straight with a book. Oooooooouch. Quackery.
The highlight of this book was definitely the bit about gonorrhea treatments for men from the mid-1800s. Cure your curved manhood: Put your junk on a table and smash it straight with a book. Oooooooouch. Quackery.
April 18, 2011
Somewhat interesting. I skipped the middle part as it dragged but read the end chapters on the pill and I.U.D.'s as the former has affected my entire adult life.
I loved the final paragraph of the book which illustrates that insurance companies are biased against women:
Nothing illustrates this claim more than "the willingness of insurance companies to cover the expensive new anti-impotence drug Viagra (which currently costs $10/pill) but not reversible contraceptives such as the pill. Apparently enabling a man to achieve orgasm rates higher on our list of priorities than protecting a woman from the long term consequences of his short term delight."
I loved the final paragraph of the book which illustrates that insurance companies are biased against women:
Nothing illustrates this claim more than "the willingness of insurance companies to cover the expensive new anti-impotence drug Viagra (which currently costs $10/pill) but not reversible contraceptives such as the pill. Apparently enabling a man to achieve orgasm rates higher on our list of priorities than protecting a woman from the long term consequences of his short term delight."
March 1, 2019
It’s fascinating and sometimes terrifying the ways we used to go about contraception, and the darker motives and methods behind developing the pill were disappointing if not surprising. I would love to see an updated edition that discusses the improved implant, return to popularity of IUDs, the affects of the ACA on birth control access, and recent surge in online pill providers.
August 17, 2008
A very engaging, if not exactly "engaged," read. Mainly focused -- perhaps to a fault -- on Comstock, Tone provides a nice starting point for any discussion of sexual practices and mores one might care to have in an historical sense. I enjoyed it; I may never read it again.
October 21, 2010
The history of American contraceptive methods is twisted and brutal. This is a really informative and well-written account of things that most people rarely think about today. This was the book where I first read about the Lysol douche and the Dalkon Shield. ::shudder::
April 7, 2011
From Lysol to the Comstock laws, the history of birth control in America is fascinating and often unexpected. It's good to understand what really happened, and to appreciate our current moment of reproductive freedom.
June 29, 2016
Read the section on the 19th century, what I needed for my research. Will go back to the 20th century section later. Lots and lots of good info, much of it pulled from archival primary sources, not easy to access. Fascinating stuff!
February 14, 2008
slow read, amazingly detailed historical context
March 12, 2008
I read this when it was assigned for a class (History of Sexuality), and its an interesting read. The book starts with the Comstock Law (1870s) and ends in the 1990s.
June 28, 2010
Very thorough history of birth control in the US -- an important book for all to read.
October 4, 2010
Really fascinating.
November 30, 2010
One of the most thorough and fascinating accounts of contraceptive, deceptively simple on some levels and always refreshingly on target.
March 6, 2013
I learned so much from this book. It is an excellent history, filled with quotable stories and great information. I return to it often. Great resource for preparing to speak on the topic.
October 2, 2014
The comstock portion is pretty hard to get through at first.
July 30, 2014
Interesting
September 16, 2014
I admit, I skimmed a lot while reading this. It's interesting info, but a little too academic for my headspace right now.
January 12, 2015
Excellent research and interesting history!
October 15, 2017
Much of the Sanger information reiterated information I'd read elsewhere, but the chapters on condom manufacturing and on testing processes of early birth control pills were quite informative.
February 1, 2021
This book should be part of courses on medical history if not in health classes generally. I learned much, much more than I anticipated. Tone also does an excellent job of explaining how preferred birth control methods went back and forth between the sexes. Unfortunately, attitudes towards women's fertility empowerment changed and birth control began to be seen as more of a burden than a blessing. One of the most interesting facts, however, is that the Pill was not developed by a large pharmaceutical company. It was heiress Katherine McCormick and her background in biology at MIT that made it happen.
Definitely worth reading if you want to know more about the condom industry, use of prophylactics in the armed forces, or what couples were doing before the magic drug appeared.
Definitely worth reading if you want to know more about the condom industry, use of prophylactics in the armed forces, or what couples were doing before the magic drug appeared.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews