Sex still sells. But sex and anxiety sells even more — hence the never-ending features and programmes detailing the mistakes you might be making, gaps in your knowledge, and new things you simply must do with your body or be exposed as a prude. Women’s magazines are the most promiscuous in this area, but the internet, TV, radio and newspapers can hardly claim total abstinence either.
And once the ”could do better” areas of your sex life have been identified (or, arguably, invented) the publication or programme tackling the issue must offer a solution — but they need a hefty dose of authority to convince you that some desk-bound journalist knows more about your sex life than you do. They need statistics! And examples! And quotes! They need, in short, a sexpert.
Sexperts are not a new invention — the word, apparently, has its origins in the 1920s — but their proliferation in recent years is noticeable, thanks to a combination of ever-increasing coverage of sex, stylistic trends in journalism that demand collaboration from experts to lend a piece authenticity and authority, and a more general cult of the guru.
There is no clear path to becoming a sexpert and no particular qualifications required. ”I wrote a book about sex, was invited on TV and then suddenly I was being introduced as a ‘sexpert’,” says Tracey Cox, one of the most celebrated experts in the field of sex and relationships. ”And that’s how you become a sexpert!”
Cox has a degree in psychology and more than two decades’ experience of learning and writing about sex, as a journalist and editor (of Australian Cosmopolitan). ”But I have always been totally honest about the fact that I am just a journalist who is interested in sex. It is my area of expertise, but you have to be clear about what you are qualified to do. I have been called a ‘sex therapist’ a couple of times and I always correct that straight away.”
Dr Petra Boynton is not only an expert on sex — she did her PhD on the effects of sexually explicit images and now works as a psychologist at University College London — but also an expert on being an expert.
Unfortunately, she says, not all specialists are necessarily the most well-qualified people. ”There are some terrible ‘experts’ working with the media. I have seen quotes from people on a subject that I know for a fact they have no clue about,” she says. ”If your livelihood depends on being in the media then some people are going to say anything to appear.”
Academics and therapists with other sources of income — and professional reputations to uphold — are not necessarily so compliant; they may be less tempting for a time-pressed journalist with a specific brief to fulfil.
”There are still always mavericks who’ll say anything to see their name in print,” says Boynton. ”And that’s not to say that if you’re not an academic you have nothing to offer. It’s just frustrating for us because we’re sitting on top of a mountain of genuine research and information and it’s hard to get it out there.”
It is not only academics who are frustrated at the quality of information. ”You see the same tips and advice over and over again and I think, ‘That just doesn’t work!”’ says Cox. ”If I’m offering a practical tip I make sure it’s been tried out by several people first — some of the things you read about are just impossible to do.” And once someone has gained a sexpert tag, they may be treated as an oracle, often with little justification.
But the blame for this cannot be placed entirely on shady sexperts who don’t deserve the title: journalists and editors also contribute to the problem. Someone with a book to promote and a lot of motivation to appear in the media is likely to be more readily available and more pliable than a cranky academic who will get stroppy if he doesn’t feel you’re taking his research seriously, or a genuine expert who wants to tell it like it is.
That is why journalists still use dubious sexperts rather than riffle through piles of academic journals. ”But there’s only so much the writer can do,” Boynton says. ”The people you really have to convince are the editors.”
No matter how much a publication might want to appear as best mate, big sister and agony aunt all rolled into one, the advice comes a firm second to commercial viability. Sex features are often planned from the (sales-generating) coverline backwards, leaving little room for genuine investigation or research. The writer’s task is to find a quote that fits the brief.
Sex is often not treated very seriously, argues Boynton. ”The articles on the subject are very gendered, very feminised, they’re given to non-expert writers to do and they have to fit with a racy picture and an attention-grabbing headline.
”If it was cancer or abuse or fraud you would need a proper qualified expert and you would treat them quite deferentially. But with sex, everyone has an opinion.” And anyone, by extension, can become an expert. — Â