IV
Conceptual Frame for the Analysis of Sexual Culture
Introduction to social constructionism
Social constructionism emerged in the 1970s as part of a wider reaction against dominant Western sexual „norms’, and encompasses a range of theoretical (and political) perspectives. Discussed at length by Carole Vance (1991) in her article, „Anthropology rediscovers sexuality: a theoretical comment’, it is clear that feminists have been among the movement’s most forceful proponents. For example, Gayle Rubin has written several papers which explore the notion of a „sex-gender system’, in which biological characteristics and social relations are collapsed into a single explanatory framework, regardless of the fact that they are both driven by quite different dynamics. Moreover, once this is understood, women’s subordination ceases to be a mere accident of biology, and becomes grounded instead in the social structures -and systems of domination -that surround us (Vance 1991).
Also significant in this regard is the work on sexuality carried out by scholars like Weeks (1979) and Foucault (1978). To summarize what is admittedly a highly complex set of arguments, these writers argue that homosexuality emerged in the nineteenth century in response to a particular set of socio-historical conditions. That is to say, it was only through the development of modern psychiatry that an attempt was made to ground certain physical acts in an overarching sexual identity (Weeks 1979). Needless to say, the significance of these conclusions was not lost upon those who were working with the hidden biographies of gays and lesbians from the last century. For these individuals, questions regarding the origins of homosexuality had long perplexed them. Have the categories „gay’ and „lesbian’ always existed? If not, when and how did they develop? What processes underlie the imbuement of identical physical acts with highly divergent sexual meanings (Vance 1991).
Through their engagement with these questions, writers became increasingly cognizant of the cultural underpinnings to supposedly immutable sexual categories (ie. heterosexual, bisexual, or homosexual). Moreover, nowhere was this more obvious than in the work carried out which explored the relationship between sexual practice and sexual culture in different historical periods (Weeks 1979). Ancient Greeks, for example, made no distinction between heterosexuality and homosexuality, only between activity and passivity. In this way, men were deemed „active’ to the extent that they penetrated others, regardless of whether these others referred to men, women or slaves (Downing 1990: p.4). As one might imagine, these findings serve to confirm the view that, rather than being instilled with a particular set of sexual characteristics from birth, human beings acquire their sexual identity through socialization, with sexual culture playing a crucial role in informing and underpinning this learning process.
However, it should be emphasized that the importance of social constructionism lies not merely in its ability to shed light upon the historical dimensions of sexuality, but also in its relevance to present-day analyses of sex, power and the state. How so? In short, the modern era has been characterized by the progressive encroachment of state and para-state agencies (ie. physicians, social workers, scientists) into the personal lives of citizens, usurping the church's power to determine who is normal and who is 'deviant' in the process. In this way, constructionism provides a basis upon which to explore the articulation of sexual discourses with the political agendas of a range of social actors, including church and state.
While acknowledging that social constructionism is a broad church, encompassing a wide array of writers and positions, it is nonetheless possible to identify several areas of convergence.
In the first instance, constructionists agree that sexuality is grounded in social factors and not, as essentialists pretend, in the natural world (Vance 1991). Needless to say, this implies a rejection of the notion that instinct determines certain types of behaviour, such as women's 'need' to nurture. This conclusion was reached in the wake of trans-cultural behavioural studies which highlighted the remarkable degree of spatial variance in people's understanding of masculinity and femininity. In short, not only did these studies find evidence of cultural contexts where nurturing was not associated with women, but they also documented many cases in which men were engaged in behaviour that, while 'normal' in their own eyes, would be considered highly effeminate in Europe or the Americas (Laumann, Gagnon, and Michael, 1994). Driven by findings such as these, contructionist scholars were led to argue that individuals' sexual behaviour can only be explained with reference to the particular social system in which they find themselves.
Moreover, closely related to this last point is the constructionist view that any number of subjective meanings may be attributed to a single physical act, depending upon the particular cultural context in which it manifests itself (Vance 1991). Thus, as Gagnon (1984) makes clear, one should be extremely wary of imposing one's own understanding of sexual behaviour upon other times and other cultures. For example, ancient pagan religious rites involving gay sexual practice were not considered 'abnormal' at the time. Along similar lines, even though sodomy was strongly condemned in Medieval Europe, this did not mean that individuals were categorized according to their sexual orientation. In short, before the nineteenth century, any man could engage in sodomy with a woman, man or animal without being labelled 'homosexual' (Weeks 1984). Given the extent to which this view differs from that which is predominant in the West today, constructionists would argue that each culture develops its own means of naming and classifying the sexual and emotional experiences of its members.
Indeed, there are many who believe that individuals' determination of sexual pleasure is itself influenced by cultural factors. For example, despite the fact that gynaecological or breast examinations may involve behaviour that is reminiscent of the sex act, they do not produce pleasure because of the context in which they are carried out. Similarly, most pre-menstrual girls do not consider their breasts to be erogenous zones. Yet, having realized that boys find them attractive, they begin to see them in a different light as well. In opposite fashion, the fact that boys' nipples and breasts are often highly sensitive to the touch is quickly suppressed in cultures where this type of arousal is deemed to be 'unmasculine'.
Adopting an even more radical stance, there are some constructionists who argue that sexual desire itself is socially determined (Vance 1991), citing the degree of variance in what is considered attractive (and hence sexually arousing) over time and space. Indeed, a number of writers have even sought to include sexual orientation in this regard, asserting that individuals' homosexual or heterosexual identity is less the product of genetic predisposition, and more one of socialization. Thus, whereas Western sexual culture has traditionally left little scope for the adoption of alternative sexual identities, other cultures may be far less prescriptive.
Having endeavoured to lay bare the social bases of human sexuality, one might now turn one's attention to the means by which sexual culture is internalized, that is to say through sexual discourses. The latter are taken to refer all the ideas, principles and myths related to sexuality which characterize a particular society at a given moment in its history, with an individual's sexual behaviour determined by the manner in which he or she assimilates them.
Moreover, as has been made clear in previous chapters, sexual discourses can either be formal or informal in orientation. While the former tend to be promoted by (and serve the interests of) official institutions, including most notably the state, the latter offer alternatives or challenges to dominant ways of thinking, and are generally associated with less powerful strata of society, including oppositional social movements. As one might imagine, formal discourses include those informed by scientific rationality (whether in the guise of medicine, psychiatry or sexology), religion or the state (through legislation or the public education system), while informal discourses may be rooted in feminism (whether radical or liberal) or in the tenets of romantic love.
Not surprisingly, sexual discourses are also present at the interpersonal level, encompassing both face to face communication between individuals (whether parent and child, physician and patient, teacher and student or priest and parishioner), as well as messages mediated through television, music and the visual arts.
Still, this is not to suggest that sexual discourses enjoy an autonomous existence. Indeed, nothing could be further from the truth, given the extent to which they are constituted and reproduced by the daily 'discursive practices' of individuals themselves. How so? Quite simply, it is the latter -which include anything from the colour of young girls' clothing to male sexual violence -that are responsible for actualizing a particular discourse, and for ensuring that it continues to exist through time. Moreover, it is also through such practices that discourses are modified, as occurs when a given practice is confronted with a sufficient degree of contradiction or resistance in the 'real' world of social relations and social life.
Moreover, it is possible to characterize sexual discourses with reference to the following points:
As is implicit in the discussion above, discourses play a key role in the construction of sexual identities, that is to say in the way that individuals define themselves vis à vis their physical bodies, objects of desire and sexual practices.
How so? At the most basic level, this is seen in the emphasis placed upon defining people according to their sexual partners. However, division of the world's population into discrete categories of heterosexuals, homosexuals and bisexuals is of relatively recent vintage, closely associated with the spread of 'Enlightenment' values in the eighteenth century, and the emergence of modern psychiatry in the nineteenth (Mahon 1982; Weeks 1977). Significantly, before this time class was seen as a far more important determinant of sexual identity. For the Greeks and Romans, for example, all individuals could be placed into one of two categories: active and free, or passive and enslaved. Thus, a free man could have sex with women, men or slaves and still remain a man, so long as he was the one who penetrated the other (Foucault:1986).
However, in the wake of rapid economic development and 'modernization' in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the emphasis began to shift from class to a somewhat broader concern with population, reproduction and the family. Moreover, this period was also associated with the emergence of new sexual discourses that attached growing importance to the gender of one's sexual partners. Thus, individuals began increasingly to construct an identity based upon the sex of their partner, rather than the sexual practices in which they were engaged (Halperin 1991).
This discourse has clearly had an effect in Costa Rica, where self-identification based on sexual orientation is now common among young people, particularly for those living in urban areas. However, this is not to say that it has always been so. Before the 1960s, when the national government began to invest heavily in the industrial sector, most young people did not think of themselves in these terms. Rather, they drew upon the older categories of 'active' and 'passive', with men normally falling into the former while women were associated with the latter. As for men who had sexual relations with other men and were 'passive' in bed, they were thought of as women. Along similar lines, lesbians were categorized according to their relative 'activity' (and hence men) or 'passivity' (women) in the relationship.
Moreover, it should be emphasized that the terms used to describe men and women's sexuality were not the only thing to change in the wake of Costa Rican industrialization (and urbanization). Also relevant in this regard was the growing importance placed upon feelings and fantasies. That is to say, dreams had little or not place in the 'pre-modern' sexual universe. Individuals' identity was grounded in practice; thoughts and feelings were immaterial. However, with the introduction of psychoanalysis to Costa Rica in the 1950s, the ground began to shift, and the mind became an increasingly important site in the determination of 'normal' sexual development and identity.
Still, even as one acknowledges the key role played by hegemonic discourses in shaping each individual's sexual identity, they are by no means the only forces at work. Other relevant factors include discourses' internal contradictions, economic and social marginalization, scientific and technological innovation, as well as the resistance which dominant discourses always engender. As one might imagine, not only are these forces jointly responsible for the delimitation of society's sexual cultures, but it is also through their interactions that the limits of the permissible are established, along with the penalties to be exacted for transgression. Thus, at the same time that the Roman Catholic Church is promoting certain sexual norms and values (eg. chastity before marriage), these messages are being undermined from other quarters, including the street (where promiscuity among men is championed) and homes where poverty has led to crowding, thereby making it far more likely that children will witness their parents' sexual activity (and perhaps tempt them to partake of such activity themselves).
Gender, identity and sexual roles
Of all the sexual discourses, none is more important to the development of an individual's sexual identity than those centred around gender. From the moment babies are born, they are defined and categorized according to their sex. Indeed, as Kaschack (1994) argues, perceptions of babies' size, intelligence and level of activity have all been shown to vary widely depending upon the sex to which they are thought to belong.
Given that gender discourses are not closely associated with a particular institution, be it the Roman Catholic Church or the scientific establishment, one may very well be left surprised by their seeming durability. Yet one need only consider the degree to which they have been appropriated by other discourses, Christianity most notable among them, in order to appreciate their continuing importance and power.
Thus, despite the fact that traditional gender discourses may upon occasion undermine the existing social order, for the most part they sustain it, with two of the most significant means in this regard being sexual orientation and sexual role enforcement. As one might imagine, the former seeks to ensure that women and men 'complement' one another by positing heterosexuality as the only legitimate expression of sexuality, while the latter provides individuals with norms as to how they should act, feel and express themselves. Needless to say, men as a group derive significant benefit from this gender system; they also help to sustain it, through their monopolization of the country's political, social and economic resources.
However, it is important to note that gender discourses do not always manifest themselves in identical fashion. For example, community members in Villa del Mar and Villa del Sol differ significantly in their understanding of 'appropriate' sexual roles and orientation. In the former case, men and women are perceived to be opposites, each with their own sphere of influence: the man provides for the family, while the woman takes care of the home. In the middle-class community by contrast, women and men are understood to complement each other, meaning that women can engage in 'masculine' activities (eg. work outside the home), yet still be considered feminine. Moreover, there are also significant differences in the area of sexual orientation. In Villa del Mar, orientation is equated with the active/passive dualism discussed above; in Villa del Sol, it is understood to refer to the object of sexual attraction. Thus, while men of the poorer community can engage in sex with men without jeopardizing their 'masculine' status, this is not possible in Villa del Sol, where they would be seen as either bi-or homosexual.
However, despite the crucial role played by gender discourses in shaping individuals' behaviour and identity, one must be careful not to attribute to it the powers of a puppeteer, exercising total control over young people's minds and bodies. Rather, the bases of the existing gender order are negotiated on a daily basis by Costa Rican youth, who re-shape it through their own interventions just as it re-shapes them.
Still, this is not to say that its demise is in any way imminent. Indeed, nothing could be further from the truth. As our research in Villa del Sol has shown, the existing gender system can undergo change without threatening the fundamental power imbalance between men and women. Thus, regardless of the fact that the women of this community are now able to go to university and pursue a career, they are still the ones who do most of the work in the home, as well as providing emotional support to their partners. In this way, one is left wondering how much further they have advanced relative to their sisters in Villa del Mar, whose work duties do not extend beyond the front door of their home.
Given the power of discourses to shape individuals' sexual identity and behaviour, it should come as no surprise that they also play a crucial role in the transmission of attitudes and values that serve to facilitate the spread of HIV/AIDS in the population at large. Consider for example the case of Latin America's gender order: at the same time that women are roundly condemned should they wish to experiment sexually with multiple partners, men are actively encouraged to do so, if only to provide proof of their virility and prowess in bed. In this way, the extent to which married women are at risk of contracting HIV is more dependent upon their husband's sexual activities than their own.
Thus, AIDS prevention initiatives that do not pay adequate heed to existing sexual discourses (and power imbalances) are doomed to failure, with an obvious example being the condom campaign advocated by Costa Rica's scientific community. From the beginning, its effectiveness as a means of combatting the AIDS epidemic has been undermined by the Roman Catholic Church on the one hand, which challenged the morality of this approach while recommending fidelity as a more suitable response, and dominant gender discourses on the other, which provide women with little scope to ensure that their partner uses a condom during sex.
Faced with these disjuncture among the various discourses, individuals respond in a number of ways, not all of which contribute positively to the cause of AIDS prevention. For example, some respond to the Church's condemnation of extra-marital affairs by engaging in anonymous sex with prostitutes in public places. Given the need for haste and discretion, measures designed to minimize the likelihood of infection are set aside in the name of pleasure.
Along somewhat different lines, compartmentalization also provides a way of dealing with discursive contradictions. In essence a coping strategy, it offers individuals a means of engaging in mutually incompatible practices or thought processes without calling into question the assumptions upon which their world-view is based. In this way, a young man who has internalized the Church's teachings on sex and sexuality is able to set them aside when he is in the company of his male friends far from home, or in any situation that calls for displays of sexual bravado and aggression on his part. Of course, this only serves to highlight the need for prevention initiatives that are flexible, and whose messages are tailored to the range of situations and locales in which young people's sexuality manifests itself.
Power and knowledge articulated in discourses
As Foucault makes clear, power and discourse are closely intertwined, with the latter implicated in the production (and reproduction) of countless power relations across time and space (Foucault 1978). Indeed, it is precisely for this reason that discourses are so influential in our lives, given that they structure our every thought and every interaction. However, it bears emphasis that the power they wield is exerted from below rather than from above, at the 'micro-structural' level of the home and the individual. Moreover, it should be noted as well that this power tends to be 'productive' rather than 'repressive' in orientation. That is to say, discourses are sustained less through recourse to coercive force, and more through the effective management and channelling of individuals' productive capacities, with Christianity's artistic legacy being a case in point.
Still, in seeking to come to terms with the durability of hegemonic discourses, it is important to distinguish between force and discipline. While it is seldom necessary to make use of the former, the latter is deployed on a more or less continuous basis, both to police transgressors and, more importantly, to induce individuals to police themselves. As Foucault (1978) makes clear, not only does disciplinary power of this sort energize the productive capacities of the people, but it also transforms them into 'docile bodies', easily monitored and controlled.
Religious confession is only one of the techniques employed in this regard. In effect, it 'normalizes' individuals by forcing them to vocalize their most intimate thoughts, with praise or punishment meted out according to the degree to which they accord with pre-established norms of thought and behaviour. A powerful tool of domination to be sure, and one that has been borrowed widely, whether by schools through means of exams, or the psychiatric profession through means of therapy. However, regardless of the precise nature of the information sought, the underlying purpose is always the same: to classify, and hence control, individuals.
How do discourses on sex emerge?
With few exceptions, the hegemonic sexual discourses of the modern era are all rooted in eighteenth century Europe, a period which Foucault (1978) believes to be characterized by a significant shift in the relationship between state and citizen. How so? In short, he argues that it was at this time that rulers ceased to see their people as a collection of individuals, and began to conceptualize them instead as a population possessing specific attributes and problems in need of intervention.
Sex was at the heart of this new understanding. If a country's population was to remain economically productive and politically docile, all matters pertaining to human reproduction had to be carefully monitored and controlled, including most notably the means by which individuals exercised their sexuality. In this way, sexual behaviour became both an object of analysis and a site for intervention, with moral and religious exhortations, surveillance by state agents and fiscal measures being only some of the tools deployed to promote family stability and a sustainable level of procreation.
Moreover, it was also at this time that child and adolescent sexuality became an object of 'serious' research. Not only were any number of treatises prepared on such topics as youthful masturbation and its consequences, but the medical establishment became increasingly interested in the study (and treatment) of 'nervous illnesses', laying the groundwork for subsequent elaboration of the categories 'sexual perversions' and 'sexual crimes', beloved by psychiatrists and the criminal justice system respectively. Needless to say, with the deployment of each new category, new webs of power relations were created, along with the bureaucratic infrastructure necessary to monitor, investigate, treat and confine all those who fell outside the bounds of the normal. Moreover, growing attention was also focused upon 'prevention', that is say developing the tools needed to predict sexual abnormalities (eg. through the accumulation of case histories and the like), while 'educating' the public regarding the ubiquity of 'sex criminals' in their neighbourhoods and cities.
Reproduction of sexual discourses over time and space
If one is to come to terms with the forces at work in producing and reproducing society's sexual discourses, it is crucial that one understand what is being said (and not being said) about sex, who is saying it and when, along with the power relations which condition, shape and mediate these interactions. Why is this the case? In short, as Foucault makes clear, the last three centuries have been characterized by the progressive refinement of technologies designed to shift sex into the public domain, and to institutionalize sexual discourse at the cultural, interpersonal and intra-psychic levels (Foucault 1978).
Among the forces involved in this institutionalization process, none is more important than the state itself, enjoying as it does the capacity to intervene in almost all facets of social life, from the economy to the criminal justice system. However, this is not to say that all other actors are insignificant by comparison, with the Church and mass media being but two examples of institutions intimately involved in the task of shaping and structuring our understanding of sex and sexuality.
Moreover, underpinning the latter's work in this regard are micro-scale processes unfolding at the level of the family and individual. In shor