Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us (22 page)

But Blanchard didn’t just pull his autogynephilia theory out of thin air. In 1986, he’d invited a group of (pre-op) heterosexual MTF transsexuals to his lab and asked them to fantasize about wearing women’s clothes and applying makeup, or essentially to simulate in their minds going about their own normal routine for transforming into their female identity. The rub in the study was that their male genitals were hooked up to a penile plethysmograph during this mental exercise so Blanchard could measure their degree of sexual arousal while they thought these gender-bending thoughts. He reported finding “significant” erections even for those individuals who said their cross-dressing had nothing at all to do with sex but was solely about being “women in spirit.” Blanchard has pointed out that these data don’t imply these men were lying; instead, he reasons, perhaps they just hadn’t admitted their sexual feelings to themselves.

In any event, if Blanchard is correct, then autogynephilia is basically a more pronounced form of transvestism; it’s not the clothes alone that arouse such men but the entire character and essence of the woman they seek to bring to life. Given the profound level of prejudice they continue to face (imagine being constantly and unapologetically referred to by many in society as an “it” or a “thing”), it’s easy to see why the concept of autogynephilia has rankled those in the transgender community, but in addition to the findings from Blanchard’s study there’s a good deal of supporting evidence to be found in old case reports with transvestites. Here’s a blurb from 1940, for instance, with an older cross-dresser describing his earliest erotic memories. (I found this anonymous tidbit while burrowing in Alfred Kinsey’s own labyrinthine files at Indiana University.)
*
“My sex life manifested around the age of 12 or 13,” he explains:

And it was immediately associated with my desire to wear girls’ clothing. I began to discover that when I would put on a dress, skirt or high-heeled shoes I would almost immediately have an erection. In later years I asked numerous transvestites if they had ever experienced such a reaction and the replies were almost universally affirmative. Whenever I [needed] sexual gratification all I had to do was put on some feminine clothing, think about a boy dressed as a girl, or look at pictures of female impersonators and the gratification was very quickly satisfied. It was an association with the female figure with whom I identified.

Blanchard’s theory of autogynephilia is one of the most battle scarred in all of modern sex research. Despite the antagonism on both sides, no attempt has yet been made to replicate his original laboratory findings, so the theory remains highly contentious. But valid or not, the very idea of autogynephilia is about as benign a paraphilia as I can possibly think of. (Essentially, one is aroused by oneself as an idealized member of the opposite sex.) Whether their “real motives” are erotic or the result of gender dysphoria, the personal distress so often experienced by
any
transsexual is the result of living a life ensconced as a harmless minority among an intolerant majority.

*   *   *

Sometimes, however, no matter the societal conditions in which it occurs, the paraphilia is indeed the direct cause of its own landslide of personal distress. Take the twenty-six-year-old sneeze fetishist from London. It’s easy to get this bungled in one’s mind with the practice of “nasolingus” (which, as we all know, involves passionately sucking on the nose of one’s partner for sexual gratification), but this young man—an actor, by the way—had altogether different nasal affections. I can’t tell you what it’s called, because his paraphilia is so uncommon that no sexologist ever bothered to baptize it in Greek. But the patient’s most arousing stimulus was being in the presence of a good-looking man in the grip of a sneezing fit. “Much of his intense interest,” explains the psychiatrist Michael King, “was associated with a wish that he could sneeze in such an attractive fashion himself.” Neither the physician nor the patient could be sure how or why this peculiar turn-on started. Yet in line with the sexual-imprinting model, he thought it might have something to do with the fact that the man had been frequently stricken with allergies as a boy.

Now, compared with placing wiggling invertebrates around your anus, a sneezing paraphilia sounds almost
cute
. But this fellow’s unmanageable lust for that which prompts the kindest of “Gesundheits!” was utterly ruining his life. A sudden, unpredictable explosion of nasal secretions lurked around every corner, and such surprise fusillades led to the most embarrassing orgasms. Also, whenever he wasn’t onstage, the man tried desperately to make himself more attractive by feigning “handsome” successive sneezes. But this only made him appear constantly sick and, as is the predictably adaptive response to such germ-ridden displays, caused everyone to avoid him like the SARS virus. He was in a relationship once, but he’d gotten so jealous of his partner’s sneezing style that the latter packed up his bags and left, citing irreconcilable differences. Bless that guy’s heart for trying, though. If you’ve ever seen a person’s face as it’s halfway through a sneeze, it’s really not a good look.

Subjectivity, personal distress, harm, deviancy, children, innocence, moral judgment, individual differences, sexual imprinting, religion, society, mental illness, you can see how it all gets quite complicated. The whole business is messier than a sneeze fetishist’s handkerchief at the end of a long day. But to see just how messy it is, you’ve got to lean in as we’ve been doing here. It’s not always pretty up close, but it’s better than remaining at a distance, where these important issues can appear deceptively simple. The public debate plays out in an infinite regress of blame over who’s responsible for those who fail to fit the standard erotic mold. This is variously ascribed to the people choosing to be the deviants they are, porn, the Devil (always a shoo-in), bad parents, poor role models, our sexually repressed culture, or the psychiatrists who keep needling sexual minorities by branding them mentally ill. It’s a rabbit hole of endless (and usually endlessly bad) arguments. Morally, all that matters—and allow me to reiterate that because I feel it’s quite important,
all
that matters—is whether a person’s sexual deviancy is demonstrably harmful. If it’s not, and we reject the person anyway, then we’re not the good guys in this scenario; we’re the bad guys.

SIX

A SUITABLE AGE

Wilde: He was about 16 when I knew him.

Prosecutor: Did you ever kiss him?

Wilde: Oh, dear no. He was a peculiarly plain boy. He was, unfortunately, extremely ugly.

—Testimony of Oscar Wilde (April 3, 1895)

Let’s leave the science labs, the courts, and the psychiatrists’ offices for a moment and head over to Las Vegas. Picture yourself walking into a towering casino—into its arcade of electric din and seizure-inducing shimmering lights, past its garish foyer drenched in gold and mirrors, through its aisles of vacant-eyed regulars affixed like barnacles to their stools—and finally coming to stand before an imposing new slot machine. But this is no ordinary slot machine, you quickly surmise. Rather, it’s a
sex
slot machine. That may sound fun, but the stakes here are massive. First of all, you’re playing for someone else, someone yet to be born. In fact, he’s yet to even be conceived. So although the game isn’t going to affect you directly, a person’s whole life is in your hands with this game. What’s at play is the sexual destiny of this future human being. Basically, if you win big with your spin, you’ll be securing for this individual a sex life of tranquillity, love, family, and acceptance. Lose big on the sex slot machine, however, and this person will have to face a lifetime of society’s never-ending wrath and all that comes with it, including feelings of anxiety, self-hatred, shame, loneliness, and rejection.

Since you won’t personally benefit by winning, it’s free to play. And unlike with most slot machines, the odds are actually in your favor (or rather, in the favor of this unnamed soul you’d be playing for). The catch is you only get one go at it, and you’re feeling pretty squeamish about this strange responsibility. On the other hand, for the child to ever come into this world someone has to pull the lever, and if it’s not you, then the next person who comes along will do it. So you take a deep breath, picture in your head the innocent face of the child on whose behalf you’re playing this devilish game, and reach out to give this one-armed bandit with the mechanical motives a good firm handshake …

Here’s what you know. Like every other slot machine, this one has its own preprogrammed algorithm for randomizing the results. The only difference is that this algorithm involves a mix of factors that, together, will determine the individual’s sexuality: genes, prenatal experiences, brain chemistry, early childhood events, family dynamics, cultural milieu, and an untold number of other inscrutably interacting variables. It’s a complex system that’s impossible to pick apart, let alone gain any control over. Cross your fingers or say your prayers for this kid, but no matter what superstitious rituals you perform while the wheels are spinning, he or she gets what he or she gets.

The rules of the game are clear enough at least. You can see, for instance, that the sex slot machine has four separate windows in its main horizontal row. Whatever ends up at each of these windows will reflect a distinct slice of the individual’s sexuality. Behind the first window is the spinning wheel of
sexual orientation
. There are four possibilities here: heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, asexual. The second window will reveal the person’s ultimate
erotic target
, with the possibilities being person, animal, inanimate object, or none (if lined up with asexual). Behind the third window lies the dominant
erotic behavior
, with four possible outcomes: normal intercourse, courtship paraphilia (such as exhibitionism, voyeurism, frotteurism), other paraphilia (one of those infinite possibilities), and masturbation only. Finally, in the last window, you’ll learn what
erotic age orientation
is in store for this person, which will be the focus of the present chapter. The spinning wheel behind this spot can land on one of six general outcomes: pedophilia (prepubescent), hebephilia (pubescent), ephebophilia (older adolescent), teleiophilia (mature adult), gerontophilia (the elderly), or none (again, if the person will be asexual). As with all slot machines, it’s how the symbols line up in their totality that makes all the difference. It’s the unique mixing of these traits, these four slices combined, that will constitute the erotic profile of this sensitive human-to-be.

Now, chances are you’ll pull the lever and see staring back at you the arrangement of symbols occurring with the highest statistical frequency: heterosexual/person/normal intercourse/teleiophilia. If so, then congratulations are in order, since you’ve just won for this new member of our species today’s social jackpot. You’ve secured for him or her the reality of a straight person whose biggest turn-on is to have normal sex with other consenting adults. (It’s also “Ladies’ Night” at the casino, by the way. If your soul-in-waiting is female, the odds have just skyrocketed in her favor; let’s say it’s now “99 to 1” that you’ve got this or one of the other winning patterns in the bag for her.)

But what makes the game so nerve-racking is that you never know what you’re gonna get, as Forrest Gump would say. And in this case, pulling the lever on the sex slot machine is like reaching into a box of chocolates laced with all kinds of different poisons, each of which would cause its own distinctive and unpleasant social effect for your young charge. Given the weighted variables, the likelihood of you ending up with, say, bisexual/animal/courtship paraphilia/gerontophilia (which, I regret to inform you, could very well mean that your person will be into flashing his genitalia to male and female water buffalo on their last legs) is slim to none. Nevertheless, that odd pattern is within the realm of possibilities. More probable would be a one- or two-factor deviation from the most common alignment. Some of these wouldn’t be so bad for your person’s social calendar these days. If you wind up with heterosexual/person/other paraphilia (sexual masochist)/teleiophilia, for instance, E. L. James and her
Fifty Shades
trilogy have helped take the sting of shame from a desire to be whipped or chained, and there will certainly be no shortage of sadists willing to oblige. Things could go a whole lot worse, though. After all, at the other end of the row is a doomsday one-deviation situation such as heterosexual/person/normal intercourse/pedophilia. And if the wheels of your person’s sexual fate end up looking something like that, then he’s in for a hard-knock life indeed.

*   *   *

The future for your fragile constituent is likely to be so difficult because what appears behind this last window is the stuff of society’s worst nightmares, with the dreaded pedophiles being especially loathed and feared. It hasn’t always been so. As we saw in the previous chapter with the flux in age-of-consent laws, our own “pedophilia panic,” as some scholars have taken to calling it, is actually of fairly recent vintage. One revealing study comes from the sociologists Melanie-Angela Neuilly and Kristen Zgoba, who investigated historical trends in U.S. and French media coverage of child sex abuse. Performing a fifteen-year content analysis on articles appearing in the relatively liberal
New York Times
and
La Monde
, Neuilly and Zgoba found that the terms “pedophilia” and “pedophile” hardly occurred in either source until about 1995. The researchers trace the onset of our modern pedophilia panic to the domestication of the Internet in the mid- to late-1990s and the pestilence of cybercrimes involving children. Yet it was the Catholic Church scandal, they argue, that launched a meteoric rise of these anxieties in 2002. It’s not just the word “pedophile” that’s taken on a life of its own, either. The pair also found that the phrase “sexual predator” increased by
900 percent
between 1990 and 2005. What’s striking about this newspaper study is that reported child sex-abuse rates in both countries were noticeably declining just as the pedophilia panic was dramatically rising.