But the same technological forces that have helped Perel’s ideas reach the masses also have begun to mold and meddle with modern-day relationships: We swipe to oblivion on soul-sucking dating apps, disappear like ghosts from our romantic interests’ lives and are lured from our partners by our smartphones at crucial moments for connection. (...)
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
How do you think technology has shifted the romantic landscape since you began writing about it?
If you spend so much time with algorithmic perfections, you begin to experience and create warped expectations, and you carry those expectations for perfection into your relationships with other people, and you become less able to deal with conflict, friction, difference.
Many studies say that Gen Z is having less sex, with fewer partners. A UCLA survey from 2023 said that a little more than 47% of people between the ages of 13 and 24 feel most TV shows and movie plots don’t need sexual content, and want more focus on platonic relationships. What do you make of this?
It’s symptomatic of something that is happening in society, in our changing culture. Technology being one piece of it. Relationships are imperfect and unpredictable. So is sex. And you’re vulnerable and you’re exposed, even. And, by the way, sex is never just sex. Even if you hook up.
So you’re less prepared for the vulnerability, for the unknown, for the consequences, for the challenges of communication that sex demands. If everything needs to be negotiated, as things are today, in relationships, and there is no longer a major religious or social hierarchy that tells you how to think, you have to make your own choices and decisions yourself.
Then in order to negotiate everything, you need to be able to communicate, and those very communication skills — the ability to deal with uncertainty and the unexpected — are the very skills that are weakening in the digital age. Sex is the messiness of human life, the bumps, the smells, the caring.
This, to me, is one of the central questions for the future: How are we going to manage the messiness of human life? That’s the opposite of an algorithmic perfection.
But the point is not that Gen Z wants less sex. They want less sex because they’re more isolated to begin with. They have less friends. They don’t go out, they work alone the whole day. You can go on an app, you can hook up, and after a while that gets a little boring for some. So it’s not the sex, it’s everything that sex is interwoven with.
Do you think it’s possible to foster that kind of intimacy you’re describing on digital platforms?
Yes and no. For a lot of people, it allows them to meet in ways they could never have met. But I do think that this is emotional capitalism, in which you have 1,000 choices at your fingertips, in which you partake in a frenzy of romantic consumerism, in which you are afraid to commit to the good because you fear that you’re going to miss out on the perfect.
We find ourselves evaluating ourselves like products, and that commodification is soulless. Do people meet on dating apps? Absolutely. I think 60% of people these days meet online. But I think there’s going to be a generational shift. There’s more and more attempts by people who are done with the apps to meet in person, even if it’s speed dating, even if it’s meeting in other circumstances, or even if it’s coming to my show.
My most important message in response to this is: Don’t go on a date in a bar, in a restaurant, at a table face to face, that resembles a job interview where you’re asking each other a set of stale questions that tell you nothing while you’re waiting to see if you’re getting butterflies.
Go do something with your friends and bring your date along. Integrate the dating into your life. You will have 1,000 data points by just seeing how this person interacts with people, how they answer questions or how they make comments. But primarily, you’re not isolating yourself, cutting yourself off from your life to go play the lottery, to then lose, and to then have to come back with your shame, to your life, to your friends, to tell them it didn’t work. We can do better.
You’ve talked about how, once you walk into the bedroom, you should throw political correctness out the window. But these days we see a lot of online shaming related to that very thing. How do conversations about sexual politics on social media influence our personal intimate lives?
There’s two questions in what you’re asking. One is: Is there a new type of moralizing that is occurring? And then the second one is: What is the nature of erotic desire?
I see sexuality as a coded language, as a window into the self, into a relationship that demands deep listening, and that listening is that actually sexuality is a coded language for our deepest, emotional needs, wishes, fears, aspirations, wounds. That’s why I always say: Sex is never just sex. Even when you think it’s hit-and-run and it’s supposed to not mean anything, the effort not to make it mean something is meaningful.
In that sense, it is irrational. Why we like certain things, we don’t fully know. We don’t fully know why what I like, you find disgusting. We don’t fully know why this memory turned into a fantasy. We don’t fully know the inner workings of the erotic mind. The brain is a black box as it is, but this adds a whole other layer to its sexual fantasies. It’s a uniquely human production that makes no sense sometimes, because it defies our values. It defies our perception of reality. It defies our perception of who we are as good citizens.
Nobody wants some of these things in real life, but turned into play they can become highly arousing, exciting and satisfying. And it goes even further when you go into the world of kink. The erotic mind is often politically incorrect, meaning it doesn’t abide by the rules of good citizenship that you yourself abide by in the rest of your life. (...)
Here’s one thing I say in the tour, and I say it in the courses too: Relationships are stories. What I would like to invite you to do is to consider your stories with a new curiosity, with more nuance and ambiguity. I want you to think about what are the parts of your story, relational and sexual story, that you want to keep and develop further, and what are the parts of your relational story that you want to leave behind or change? That’s my invitation.
by Alyssa Bereznak, LA Times | Read more:
Image: Maggie Chiang / For The Times
