Editorial from The Guide	Editorials Archive

Most of us have probably, at sometime, tabulated (or tried to estimate!) how many people we've had sex with. Adolescents tally conquests with buddies, sitcom characters speculate on each others totals, and some sex hounds even log each new conquest with precision.

But whenever guys gossip about numbers, a definitional problem arises: what counts as "sex"? Everyone agrees that dick-in-pussy counts. Gay guys obviously consider dick-in-ass as sex, but some hetero guys think buttfucking isn't "sex." Most, but not all, gay guys would count blowjobs, but lots of straight guys think hummers a substitute for the real thing. Handjobs, masturbation, and pussy- and ass-eating become ambiguous for many guys, both straight and gay. Some say orgasm defines sex and count intimate phone pals as "partners." Others thinks penile penetration of any sort means that "sex" has occurred, with or without coming.

View our poll archive

Having sex so poorly defined creates all sorts of problems. Ignorant teenage girls, lectured about the perils of "sex," fret about possible pregnancy after giving their first blowjob. Adolescent boys worry that they're destined to wear dresses because they enjoyed a circle jerk. And the president can look into news cameras and assert that he never had "sexual relations with that woman"-- since all they did was cocksucking, asslicking, and pussypoking (with a cigar).

This April, let's dedicate ourselves to saving the world heartache and confusion by clarifying the definition of sex.

Everyone concurs that the procreative act (penis ejaculating in vagina) is sex. Indeed, it is the ability to bring forth life that imbues sex (so defined) with well-deserved awe. So let's draw the line right there! Let's consider only penis-in-vagina-with-conception-a-possibility as "sex." Everything else is play-- a way to end arguments, prepare for work, express affection, blow off steam, celebrate a special occasion, or go to sleep.

Anal, oral, and manual activities don't lead to pregnancy and thus, with our improved definition, aren't sex. While disease- and injury-prevention education are appropriate for any activity that carries risk, only sex and its unique consequences (i.e., new babies) are of legitimate pressing social concern. Thus, prosecutors and legislators would have no basis to regulate or control our (now non-sexual) genital recreation. Laws against charging for blowjobs would make as much sense as prohibitions against giving haircuts. Teaching analingus to an adolescent would carry no more opprobrium than providing swimming instruction. And arresting people for masturbating in restrooms would make as little sense as incarcerating them for urinating there.

Freed from policing activities no longer considered sexual, society could focus on supervising real sex. Who doubts our overpopulated planet, crowded with babies born to ill-prepared parents, could benefit from tighter regulations of the procreative act?

Resources currently wasted on vice-squads, porn entrapment schemes, and toilet stakeouts could be redirected to careful monitoring of the real sexual threat: fertile men and women. Instead of sex offender registries to harass men and boys who've enjoyed oral, anal, or manual recreation, we could identify, register, and track "potential parents" (PPs). A licensing procedure could be adopted whereby PPs would be allowed sex only after official approval. Some will, undoubtedly, carp about the infringement of civil liberties, but given that we're talking about the well-being of children, politicians will be easily convinced to support such commonsense measures.

Of course, such a new definition of sex won't be perfect, and experience is bound to provide us with refinements to the suggestions made above. But who can doubt that it makes more sense than our current approach?