Much more brutal than I anticipated. It's at times, flawless. The premise is simple: human relationships are seen through an economic lens of 'mating market' and 'exchange model'. Sex has a price. Women are gatekeepers, hold access to it, granting access at a cost. The cost was once much higher. Women used to depend on men for economic and physical security, and men would have to pay (supply) these in the form of high commitment (marriage being the norm) in order to access sex. No more. Two technologies—the Pill, and an explosion of high-quality pornography—have rent asunder the market. Women have since flourished educationally, professionally, and financially, but have paid at the cost of their relational and emotional destinies, which are consistently frustrated.
The mating market is now utterly imbalanced, torn in two with one corner interested in no-strings-attached sex (more men here than women) and the other interested in marrying (more women here than men). In the middle? Practically everyone: "a rather large territory in between comprised of significant relationships of varying commitment and duration." Most women are looking for high commitment relationships, but with sex so cheaply priced (since women, more independent than ever, now ask little from men), they sell sex cheap and quickly, reinforcing market dynamics that play to the interests of men (also to their ultimate detriment) and severely frustrate women's paths to higher (i.e. older) aspirations in the form of marriage.
While pornography has lowered the price of sex dramatically, it was really artificial hormonal contraception (introduced in the 1960s) that shocked the social system, blasting the market, fostering the rapid emergence of unprecedented understandings of sex itself, and opening a rift through which new relationship models would surface concurrent with these new understandings.
First, a new construction of sex has occurred. Readers of Taylor already know the score. Regnerus calls it "the transformation of intimacy." Sex was once fertile. It was first a procreative act, and couldn't be regarded otherwise. In older days it was the means by which one built clan, and then fostered bond and matrimonial intimacy in already-established committed relationship (marriage/spouse). Today, sex is the means by which one builds not clan, but identity. That is a massive shift.
Sex is infertile now. It is for consumption, not (re)production. Sex as art form. Sex as pursuit of mutual pleasure/satisfaction. Sex as understood as being able to exist free from relationship, even as to establish or disqualify relationship. Relationally, sex was once supportive, supplementary in function. Now it has primacy. Our sexuality is malleable, open to being shaped in diverse ways, a potential property of the individual. Thanks to contraception, sexuality is at last, fully autonomous. That is, not only separated from association with marriage and baby-making, but free from being embedded in relationship itself.
Concurrent with new sex is a new mode of relationship: "the pure relationship" bound by "confluent love". The pure relationship is a social relation entered for its own sake, for what can be derived by each person from another, and which is continued insofar as it is thought by both parties to deliver enough satisfactions for each individual to stay within it.
This is distinct not only from the older regime of institutionalized matrimony, but even from the more recent romantic love model, which seeks relationship fulfillment and is the stuff of 'soul mates.' Confluent love has usurped romantic love. The latter is about 'forever', 'one and only', with stops and starts, but nevertheless a quest for settledness, to solidly preserve the object of care and add to the world, to expand by giving itself away to the object of love. Its destiny is nearly always marriage and family.
Not so with confluent love. This love is contingent. It drives the 'pure relationship model': contingency is its foundation, equality its organizing principle, taste and emotion its barometers, discovery its key goal, and while the couple is the basic structure of union, it is never to usurp the individual's primacy and will.
Do typical individuals see today's sexual and relational reality this way? Of course not. What do they see? Pain, ambivalence, confusion, loneliness. Lots and lots of it. This is where the brutal kicks in. The book draws upon interviews with young adults (20s into mid-30s) that are quite honestly, terrible to read.
Regnerus, a sociologist hailing from the University of Texas, who lands on the 'more conservative side' of things, goes out swinging:
"Women are learning to have sex like men. But peel back the layers, and it becomes obvious that this transition is not a reflection of their [newly liberated] power but of their subjugation to men's interests. If women were more in charge of how their relationships transpired—more in charge of the 'pricing' negotiations around sex—we would be seeing, on average, more impressive wooing efforts by men, fewer hookups, fewer premarital sexual partners, shorter cohabitations, and more marrying going on (and perhaps even at a slightly earlier age too). In other words, the 'price' of sex would be higher: it would cost men more to access it. Instead, none of these things are occurring. Not one."
Cheap sex produces a variety of awful consequences. It decreases men's marriageability by decreasing their ambition, commitment, and professional aspirations. It poses challenges to fidelity and monogamy and makes polyamory more attractive and common, as well as sexual experimentation and everything non-heteronormative.
Rather than speculating means to solve or even mitigate the social problems which his book has unfolded, Regnerus raises some eyebrows by instead making predictions about sex/mating-market/relationships that will transpire by 2030. Most of these prophecies are unsurprisingly discouraging. And yet, Regnerus's confidence is twofold: differences between the sexes are real, embedded beyond the possibility of uprooting, and ultimately will resist social engineering. Marriage also, though it may become a minority practice, is so ancient and universal an institution it wil not die.
Regnerus seems to emphasize the consequences of cheap sex upon women, as is right, because it ought to spring us to action. He is particularly aware how his claims attract the glare of many sociologists of gender studies. There are some smirky occasions where Regnerus might well provoke the reader to toss his book into the nearest fireplace:
"What about independent women with a high sex drive? Female versions of Christian Grey. They seem at face value to need none of men's available resources and they mimic more masculine values. Don't they alter the exchange model by utterly ignoring it? Not really. The fact that some women actively pursue sex signals little power. It just means they will have predictable success in accomplishing that goal, which is not really an accomplishment once you understand men. But they tend to have greater difficulty in navigating successful long-term relationships of the type many claim to want."
His delivery is at times too funny and too stark to laugh at:
"This book is not a clarion call to return somehow—by hook, crook, or political will—to an earlier era. That is not going to happen...For those of you who are fans of our new relational realities—don't worry, they are not going anywhere."