Can we truly talk about sexuality without talking about gender? As a sociologist studying the intersection of these concepts, this question often swirls around my mind. I’m far from alone in this preoccupation, with research increasingly suggesting that gender and sexuality are deeply intertwined. For men, sexual conquest (of women) is a key tool for performing and claiming masculinity, while chastity and sexual “purity” have been more closely aligned with traditional, conservative notions of femininity. As crude—and harmful—as these cultural notions are, they are powerful ideas that shape our experience of both gender and sexuality. And they raise questions about how, exactly, asexuality fits within mainstream Western conceptions of gender.

Research on the relationship between asexuality and gender is limited, but existing data suggest that asexuality is a deeply gendered identity. Surveys indicate that women far outnumber men in identifying as asexual. [1] One recent survey of 9,294 asexual individuals found that men are eclipsed even by those who identify as neither man nor woman, with 63% identifying as women, 10.9% as men, and 26% as none of the above. [2] This has led some to speculate that it is more difficult for men to identify as asexual than it is for those of other gender identities—and that masculinity poses greater problems than femininity in identifying as asexual.

In some ways, our culture is obsessed with discussing the struggles of masculinity, while the struggles of femininity are often left undiscussed. The asexual community, despite being disproportionately women, is not immune to this inclination. When perusing popular online gathering spaces for asexual individuals (such as AVEN’s discussion boards and asexuality-focused subreddits), you are far likelier to find conversations about masculinity than about femininity. This is remarkable, considering that men appear to be far outnumbered by both women and people who are neither men nor women in identifying as asexual. Certainly, the relative scarcity of asexual men does raise questions about why this gender gap exists and whether there is anything we can do to address it. But it is nonetheless striking that in a community that mostly consists of women, the conversations happening within it tilt so heavily toward masculinity. I want to offer a course correction here, where we can discuss the experiences of asexual men without inadvertently erasing the experiences of asexual women. So buckle up folks, because we’re going to start by discussing masculinity, but then turn our attention to a less-discussed topic: femininity.

Given the ways masculinity is constructed in Western culture, it is fairly unsurprising that tensions would exist between masculinity and asexuality. Sexual voracity is seen as part and parcel of what it means to be a man. The brain of man, we are told, is in his groin. Some men are “strong” enough to resist the manly urge—sex, sex, sex—but men’s libido is supposedly so untamed that resisting it is futile. Boys will be boys, after all. 

Such an ingrained assumption of men’s hypersexuality undoubtedly leads some to shrug off men who do not experience sexual attraction as unnatural, if not impossible. As a result, men who identify as asexual risk ridicule, dismissal, and pathologization. And it makes sense that at least some men would manage this risk by keeping their asexuality private, that these harmful cultural ideas would contribute to aphobia and asexual erasure.

These assumptions feel intuitive, but only tell half the story. The gendered assumptions of asexuality flow in both directions. People often assume that all men desire sex and that most women don’t. This erases asexuality in both groups, since asexuality is seen as impossible for men and unremarkable for women. I would argue that we cannot truly understand the relationship between asexuality and masculinity without also exploring how femininity relates to both concepts. 

As a researcher, I’ve interviewed dozens of asexual women. Many have said that when they told others that they were asexual, they were met with responses like “well, women just don’t want sex like men do” or “how does that make you different from most women?” This arguably makes asexuality less stigmatizing for women, but it still harms ace women. Erasure is one of the most noteworthy forms of marginalization faced by asexual individuals, but it is time that we acknowledge that individuals’ experiences of erasure are shaped by a number of factors, including race, age, (dis)ability, and, of course, gender. 

Historically, women’s sexuality has been far more policed than men’s sexuality. This continues to be true, evidenced by the onslaught of legislation seeking to restrict access to abortion. Women who pursue, desire, or have sex are often depicted as whores, trollops, sluts, etc., while sexual exploration among men is much more likely to be celebrated. Paradoxically, women’s sexuality is also less likely to be taken seriously than men’s. We can see this in the differing ways homosexuality is treated for men versus women. Lesbianism is often treated as little more than a display for men’s pleasure, while homosexuality in men is hardly ever treated as a performance for women. To be sure, the greater legitimacy and gravity afforded to men’s sexuality can also mean that homosexuality in men faces greater hostility than homosexuality in women, but it is worth remembering that this partially stems from the disregard our society holds toward women’s sexuality in general. There is little need to make a big fuss over something that is collectively seen as trivial and unimportant. In other words, claiming a minoritized sexual identity may be “easier” for women than for men because we simply don’t think women’s sexuality is as important or legitimate. 

It is also worth noting that although femininity may, in some ways, fit more neatly within the framework of asexuality, claiming asexuality still creates friction in being “appropriately” feminine. For example, although voracious sexual desire is often frowned upon among women, women also face pressures to be sexually available to men. Women thus face a double bind: they should not have (or at least display) sexual desire, yet they should also be sexually available to men, particularly within marriage. Sadly, this contributes to a greater risk of “corrective rape” for queer women, aimed at ridding women of their queerness (which includes asexuality) and making them (hetero)sexually available. Although, of course, many asexual people do have sexual relationships, claiming an asexual identity as a woman may be interpreted in our allonormative world as conflicting with the expectation of sexual availability. In this traditional, sexist worldview, women’s desires (or lack thereof) are simply irrelevant: all that matters is that women remain sexually available. Their feelings about sex should be kept to themselves, a cute sideshow at best.

Men’s sexuality is treated far less dismissively in our culture. Ironically, however, the greater sexual autonomy and agency granted to men can make expressing an absence of sexual desire less acceptable for men than for women. A lack of interest in sex is, according to popular culture, unnatural for men—or worse, something that marks you as feminine. Because sexual conquest of women is so core to mainstream images of manhood, a lack of sexual desire is not only unnatural, but also unmasculine. Asexuality, then, can symbolize a failure to be “properly” masculine, a failure to claim the sexual autonomy that manhood affords.

Often, when we talk about the challenges of masculinity, we neglect to examine the sources of those challenges. I think it helps to look at masculinity and femininity as inextricably linked. In fact, a great deal of masculinity is defined not by the presence of masculine qualities but by the absence of feminine ones. To be masculine is to not be emotional, a caregiver, sexually passive, and so on, all qualities stereotypically associated with femininity. As early as preschool, boys learn that their ‘manhood’ rests upon rejecting and devaluing femininity. [3] Moreover, scholars have found that gender deviance into “inappropriate” forays of femininity is more harshly policed than “inappropriate” adoptions of masculinity. It is, for example, sometimes acceptable for a girl to be a “tomboy” but never acceptable for a boy to be a “sissy.” [4]

Put simply, performing manhood is not only about being masculine; it is also about not being feminine. I want to encourage us to be wary, however, of the conclusion that masculinity is more rigid and confining than femininity. Such a perspective misses that the strict confines of masculinity stem from and reproduce the subordination of women and femininity. Viewed more critically, we see that perhaps it is more acceptable for women and girls to dabble in masculinity than for men and boys to dabble in femininity because the former aspire upward while the latter fall downward.

My suggestion is not that we should ignore the relationship between masculinity and asexuality, but that we should make sure we incorporate femininity into this discussion as well. There is a danger in framing asexuality as “harder” for men than for women. Such a simplistic takeaway risks masking the broader gender dynamics at play, while also decentering women and non-binary individuals from a conversation about gender. It also impedes our ability to fully understand the challenges facing asexual men, particularly because masculinity and femininity are so deeply interlinked. Certainly, the obstacles facing those who are held to the standard of masculinity are more obvious than those who are held to the standard of femininity. But simply because they are more obvious does not mean that they are more severe nor more important. 

So yes, the relationship between masculinity and asexuality is complicated, difficult, and worthy of exploration. But let’s make sure that we don’t ignore how gendered expectations influence everyone within the asexual community. We’ll all be better off. 

Endnotes

1. Bogaert, Anthony F. 2004. “Asexuality: Prevalence and Associated Factors in a National Probability Sample.” The Journal of Sex Research 41(3):279–87. 

   Greaves, Lara M., Fiona Kate Barlow, Yanshu Huang, Samantha Stronge, Gloria Fraser, and Chris G. Sibley. 2017. “Asexual Identity in a New Zealand National Sample: Demographics, Well-Being, and Health.” Archives of Sexual Behavior 46(8):2417–27. doi: 10.1007/s10508-017-0977-6.

2. Bauer, Caroline, Tristan Miller, Mary Ginoza, Yue Guo, Kristin Youngblom, Ai Baba, Phil Penten, Max Meinhold, Varshini Ramaraj, Theresa Trieu, Jacci Ziebert, and Mel Adroit. 2018. 2016 Asexual Community Survey Summary Report.

3. Cahill, Spencer E. 1989. “Fashioning Males and Females: Appearance Management and the Social Reproduction of Gender.” Symbolic Interaction 12(2):281–98.

4. Thorne, Barrie. 1993. Gender Play: Girls and Boys in School. Rutgers University Press.