Raja Halwani, "On Fucking Around"

(from The Philosophy of Sex: Contemporary Readings, Nicholas Power, Raja Halwani, and Alan Soble, eds., 2013, pp. 441-60)

Many people consider casual sex and promiscuity (CS&P) morally wrong, even if they admit that their practitioners find these activities pleasurable. CS&P are also thought to provide fertile ground for objectification, a philosophically thorny concept. After discussing issues of definition—philosophically interesting on their own—I discuss the ethics of CS&P as far as objectification is concerned. I argue that, even though the case can be made that they do not necessarily involve objectification, they are likely to objectify, given a particular and plausible view of sexual desire. However, I suggest that the wrongness of objectification can be overcome by other considerations, such that CS&P might in general be morally permissible.

Definitional Issues

1. Casual Sex

Casual sex is sexual activity that occurs outside the context of a relationship. Often, but not always, the parties who engage in it seek only sexual pleasure. Typical examples include Internet hook—ups, bar hook-ups, sex between pornography actors, and anonymous encounters in gay bathhouses, gay or straight sex clubs, and straight swingers clubs.

However, it is difficult to define ”casual sex” in terms of necessary and sufficient conditions; any proposed criterion that distinguishes casual from non—casual sex faces difficulties. Suppose that the criterion is that the intention be only for sexual pleasure. This sounds right, since people who have casual sex usually do it only for sexual pleasure. But people in relationships (e.g., married couples, friends, couples in love) have sex often solely for sexual pleasure, yet the sex between them is not casual. So the criterion won’t do as a sufficient condition. It is also not necessary, because some people have casual sex not for sexual pleasure but for other reasons. For example, prostitutes do it for money, stressed individuals do it for release, and vain people do it to maintain their lofty self-image.

Here’s a second criterion: that there is no marriage, love relationship, or committed relationship between the parties to the casual sex.¹ If such a relationship exists, the sex is not casual. If there is no such relationship, the sex is casual. Why emphasize marriage, love, and committed relationships, not other types of relationship? Because what matters is the right kind of commitment, whose very nature renders the activities between its parties, whether sexual or non-sexual, non—casual, such as love, marriage, deep friendship (acquaintances and work relationships are not such commitments). Is being in a relationship sufficient for the sex to be non—casual? It seems to be. We have seen above that even if the couple has sex for pleasure, being a couple is enough to make the sex non-casual. Moreover, even if they have a ”quickie” before darting off to work, the sex still seems to be non-casual precisely because they are in a relationship. So being in a relationship seems to be sufficient for the sex to be non—casual. But it does not seem to be necessary. Suppose that Fyodor and Leila meet in a bar, sparks fly (without the help of alcohol), and they go home and have sex with each other, each thinking that they have just met the love of their life, vowing to each other their eternal love. However, come morning, each says to him— and herself, ”What was I thinking?” Did Fyodor and Leila have casual sex? If they did not because they intended the sex to be a prelude to a relationship, then we have an example of non—casual sex outside a committed relationship. So the proposed criterion is not necessary.

Here’s a third criterion: that the parties to the sex act intend, hope, or desire (or something along these lines) that the sex act not lead to any commitment. If such an intention (or, more generally, mental state) exists, then the sex is casual. If it doesn't exist, then it is not casual. This criterion is the most plausible one. For if the parties to a sex act have such a mental state it is hard to see how the ensuing sex is not casual. So it seems to be a sufficient condition. Moreover, it seems correct to think that if their sexual activity is casual, then such a mental state exists, so it seems to also be a necessary condition.

The plausible idea behind this criterion iscaptured by the phrase ”no strings attached” (hence the expression ”NSA sex”). The idea is that the consent of the parties to the sexual act does not imply a commitment beyond the act—no commitment to love, to marriage, or to even seeing each other again for solely sexual purposes. However, the trick is how to clearly state this idea. Is it (a) that the consent implies no commitment beyond the act? Or is it (b) that the consent does not imply a commitment beyond the act? The first requires an explicit mental state on the part of the parties for no commitment, whereas (b) leaves things open and could be satisfied by the lack of any mental state. Though (b) is probably more common, I adopt (a) because it focuses on clear cases of casual sex, ruling out ambiguous ones (e.g., one or more parties having no clear mental states about the future).

But there are two complications. First, must each party to the sex act have such a mental state? Or is it enough that one or some do? What if X does not intend or want a commitment but Y does?² Second, which mental state should count? Suppose that Leslie and Pat know that they should not be in a committed relationship, so they intend the sex between them to not lead to commitment. But suppose they also yearn for love, so they hope that it does. Is the ensuing sex between them casual, because of their intention, or not, because of their hope?

Despite these complications, I define ”casual sex” as ”NSA sex, such that the consent of the parties implies no commitment beyond the act." The definition gives us what we need for our discussion.

2. Promiscuity

Obviously, having sex many times is crucial for understanding promiscuity. But with whom one has sex is also crucial. If John has sex twenty times a week with his partner (his marital spouse, the person he loves, or even his friend-with—benefits), we would be happy for him and hope that his partner’s sexual drive matches his, but he would not be promiscuous. A promiscuous person has sex with diﬂerent people, although a precise number is impossible to decide. The period of time is also important: having sex with ten different people during a period of twenty years is not much, but during one month is (again, the precise length of the period is impossible to decide). So the period of time during which one has sex and with whom one has it are crucial to whether someone is promiscuous.

What are the connections, if any, between casual sex and promiscuity? Perhaps promiscuity implies casual sex, but not vice versa: Someone who is promiscuous has, simply in virtue of that fact, casual sex because he has NSA sex (albeit a lot of it), but someone who has casual sex is not, simply in virtue of that fact, promiscuous, because he might have casual sex very few times during his life (maybe even only once). But suppose that Nadia wants to be in a love relationship, but the (or one) way she tries to do so is by having sex with any man she thinks might be Mr. Right, only to be disappointed and to have to start over. Is Nadia promiscuous? Some might say ”no” because she intends each sexual act to be the start, or part, of a new love relationship. Some might say "yes” because her intentions are irrelevant and because she has sex with many different men during a brief period of time. Is Nadia having casual sex? Again, some might say ”no,” because of her intentions, and some ”yes,” because none of the sex acts leads to, or ends being part of, a love relationship. (On this essay’s definition, Nadia is not having casual sex because she desires a commitment beyond the sexual act.) Now, if Nadia is promiscuous but is not engaging in casual sex, then promiscuity does not imply casual sex, because someone could be promiscuous and not be having casual sex. Although it depends on the relevance of intentions (and hopes and other such mental states) to promiscuity and casual sex, the Nadia example is strong enough to shake our faith in the idea that promiscuous sex implies casual sex.

However, I set aside cases like Nadia’s and focus on cases in which someone intends to engage in casual sex and on cases in which someone intends to be promiscuous (because she, e.g., does not want to be entangled in the complexities of love, who likes sex, and who likes sexual variety). I focus on these cases because, first, if CS&P are morally suspicious, then intentionally engaging in them is worse than unintentionally engaging in them, so we would be in the thick of the moral issues. Second, because as far as only objectification is concerned, whatever is morally wrong with someone who intentionally has casual sex would also be wrong with the person who is intentionally promiscuous (thus, the second person might, for non—objectification—related reasons, be ethically defective in ways the first person is not). Any objectification-related differences between them would then be in terms of the number of ethical wrongs committed: a promiscuous person would engage in a lot more objectification than someone who has casual sex only a few times.

One final restriction: I focus on cases of CS&P in which the motive of the parties is to attain sexual pleasure (or to satisfy their sexual desires), not, say, to make money. This keeps the discussion manageable and con- fined to the type of cases people usually have in mind when they think of CS&P.

3. Objectification

The idea of objectification has its roots in Immanuel Kant’s ethics. Kant thought that, because of the very nature of sexual desire, the parties to a sex act use each other and themselves, and then discard each other like ”a lemon which has been sucked dry.”³ I return to Kant’s Views below because they are necessary for a discussion of CS&P.

To objectify a person is to treat him only as if an object. For example, Christa treats Tania, as an object if she uses Tania as a chair while reading the newspaper. Objectification is a morally charged concept. To accuse someone of objectification is to accuse her of doing wrong. For to objectify someone is to treat him only as an object, thereby bringing him down from the level of being human or a person to the level of an object, thus degrading or dehumanizing him. Why? Because to be a person is to have a special property or quality that other objects (including plants and most, if not all, animals) lack and in virtue of which human beings are to be treated in morally special ways. This property might be dignity, rationality, autonomy, self-consciousness, being created in God’s image, or something along these lines. To treat someone merely as an object is to bypass or neglect to treat him in accordance with this property, thereby degrading or dehumanizing him. Thus, it is to treat him in a morally wrong way.

Note three things. First, someone can intentionally or unintentionally bypass or neglect this special property, so someone can engage in objectification unintentionally or unawares. This does not mean that no wrong has been done, only that the objectifier is not to be blamed or held responsible (unless he should have known better). So If to have casual sex is necessarily to objectify the sexual partner, then one objectifies regardless of whether one intends to objectify (do not confuse intending to have casual sex with intending to objectify).

Second, if human beings are nothing but objects to begin with, albeit with a morally inflated name ("person”), then there is nothing wrong with objectification: we cannot act wrongly in treating an object merely as an object if it is nothing but an object to begin with.⁴ Third, if human beings are not merely objects but are nonetheless not loftier than objects, then, again, objectification would not be wrong because by treating human beings as nothing but objects one would not be degrading them or lowering their status. Thus, for objectification to be wrong, we must (and will) assume that human beings are not mere objects (a plausible assumption) and that they have a morally higher status than objects (a controversial assumption).⁵

Two crucial questions immediately arise. First, is objectification only an issue of treatment? Can’t we objectify someone only by regarding him—purely mentally viewing him—as merely an object?⁶ Although it makes sense to speak about objectifying someone merely by regarding him as only an object, if the wrong of objectification is that it dehumanizes and degrades the person who is objectified, it is hard to see how merely regarding someone as only an object actually dehumanizes or degrades him. Mere regard reveals a moral defect or vice in the person Who has this attitude, but it does not actually degrade the person so regarded. For actual degradation to occur, some form of treatment must occur. In any case, even if degradation occurs in mere regard, surely its meatiest and most important forms are those that result from treatment, so I shall continue to discuss objectification in terms of treatment.

The second question is: Is the ”only” in ”to objectify a person is to treat him only as an object” needed to understand the wrong of objectification? Wouldn’t X still be objectifying Y, thus doing something wrong, even if X does not treat Y only as an object? (Note that if X treats Y with respect and affection most of the time but during sex—or other situations—treats Y only as an object, X still objectifies Y during those times.)⁷ To see Whether treating someone as an—object—but—not—only-as—an-object is morally problematic, we should ask whether it is possible to treat someone as not an object at all, because if this is possible, then treating them as objects, whether ”only” or not, would be morally defective given the better option of not treating them as objects at all.

One way of treating someone as an object is to treat her as an instrument or a tool for our purposes. Yet there seems no escape from this treatment in human interaction. In virtually any example of human interaction—between grocer and shopper, salesperson and client, student and teacher, tenant and landlord, flight attendant and passenger, waiter and diner, and so on—we use people as tools: we use the grocer as a tool to obtain our groceries, the tenant to make an income, and so forth. Even in interactions between friends and loved ones, about which we don’t believe that people use each other as tools (e.g., a lover giving his beloved a gift), one might argue that the lover uses his beloved as a tool to attain his goals (of, e.g., giving her a gift: no beloved, no gift-giving).⁸ We can then plausibly assume that treating each other as tools is unavoidable. (Perhaps those who believe that not every human interaction involves using people as tools should provide us with uncontroversial cases.) What we should aim for, then, is to treat them not merely as tools or objects.

However, one might claim that being used as a tool is only one way to be objectified. Are there not other ways in which we can avoid using people as objects altogether?

Martha Nussbaum lists seven different ways to objectify someone. Rae Langton adds three. I quote them at length (this is also useful for the discussion in Part II). Nussbaum’s list:

Instrumentality: The objectifier treats the object as a tool of his or her purposes.
Denial of autonomy: The objectifier treats the object as lacking in autonomy and self-determination.
Inertness: The Objectifier treats the object as lacking in agency, and perhaps also in activity.
Fungibility: The objectifier treats the object as interchangeable (a) with other objects of the same type and/or (b) with objects of other types.
Violability: The objectifier treats the object as lacking in boundary integrity, as something that is permissible to break up, smash, break into.
Ownership: The objectifier treats the object as something owned by another, can be bought and sold, and so on.
Denial of subjectivity: The objectifier treats the object as something whose experience and feelings (if any) need not be taken into account.⁹

Langton’s additional three:

Reduction to body: One treats [the person] as identified with his or her body, or body parts.
Reduction to appearance: One treats [the person] primarily in terms of how he or she looks, or how he or she appears to the senses.
Silencing: One treats [the person] as silent, lacking the capacity to speak.¹⁰

Other than instrumentality (already addressed), we can treat people as not objects, at all, in any of those ways. We need not treat others as incapable of making decisions (lacking autonomy and self-determination), as lacking in agency (inert), as interchangeable with others (fungible), as permissible to smash up (violable), as owned, as having no feelings and experience, and as reduced to body and appearance. If the above list is a list of ways of treating people as objects, then it is possible to not treat people as objects, at all, in any of these ways.

But note that for each of these ways, the only way to treat someone as an object is by treating her only as an object. For example, I cannot treat someone as violable while at the same time treating her as inviolable: I cannot treat Omar as something permissible to cut up, lacerate, bounce up and down, and so on, while simultaneously treating him as someone with boundaries that I should not overstep. Similar reasoning applies to the rest (again, excepting instrumentality).¹¹ Thus, even though we can avoid treating people in any of these ways as objects, if we do treat them as objects, we cannot simultaneously treat them as more than objects. Instrumentality is unique in this respect: as we shall see, it is possible to treat someone as an instrument but not only as an instrument.

Do not confuse ”treating X as lacking in A,” as the above ways state, with ”justifiably overriding X’s A.” To justifiably override X’s A is not to treat X as an object, because the former is morally permissible, even sometimes required. For example, I may override X’s inviolability by cutting off X’s arm to save X’s life. I may override X’s capacity to speak to allow others to speak. I may reduce X to mere appearance if I am dressing X for X’s role in a play. I may treat X as fungible if I approach X as a grocer, barista, and so on—as someone who agrees to compete with others in offering a service.

Thus, except for instrumentality, none of these eight ways undermines the definition of ”objectification” as treating someone only as an object. We can then conclude that to objectify someone, one does indeed have to treat her only as an object. However, one type of objectification—instrumentality—can be avoided by treating the person as not only an object. Let’s now see whether CS&P can avoid objectification.

Moral Issues

1. Why CS&P Might Be Necessarily Objectifying

If objectification is always morally wrong and is a necessary feature of casual sex, casual sex is necessarily wrong. If promiscuity is multiple instances of casual sex with different people, promiscuity is also necessarily wrong. But why believe that objectification is a necessary feature of CS&P? The argument might go as follows. In engaging in CS&P, people have NSA sex for sexual pleasure. They thus use each other—they treat each other as objects, as tools——for the purpose of attaining this pleasure. Even if they provide each other with pleasure, they do so because (i) this gives them pleasure (the man performing oral sex on the woman finds giving oral sex pleasurable), (ii) the receiver’s pleasure enhances the provider’s own pleasure (the man finds the woman’s pleasure from receiving oral sex pleasurable), or (iii) the provider desires that the receiver return the favor. They use each other for their selfish or self-interested (I gloss over the differences between these two categories) sexual pleasure. Thus, CS&P involve objectification: its parties use each other’s bodies for the satisfaction of their sexual desires.

Supporting the above argument is a pessimist View of sexual desire according to which: ¹² (1) Sexual desire targets people’s bodies and body parts, thus coming dangerously close to making us view the people we sexually desire as objects (albeit live ones). (2) To satisfy sexual desire, we engage in all sorts of shenanigans, such as deception and lies ("Yes! I, too, loved The English Patient!”), and dressing in ways to conceal our defects and highlight, if any, our assets (which might also be a form of deception). (3) Unless intruded upon by anxieties, worries, or—crucially—moral thoughts, sexual activity can be so pleasurable and consuming that parties to it lose control over themselves and lose “regard for the humanity of the other person.”¹³ (4) To satisfy sexual desire, we allow our reason to be subverted, and we do irrational, stupid things both to get someone to have sex with us and during the sexual act (e.g., unsafe sex). Finally, (5) when they do attend to each other’s desires, they do so, again, either because they find this pleasurable in itself or because they desire to receive sexual attention in return.

CS&P epitomize the above features of sexual desire. Precisely because CS&P are NSA sex whose goal is sexual pleasure, its parties (1) focus on and use the other’s body and body parts to attain sexual pleasure; (2) more easily rationalize lies and deception because there is no future commitment to each other; (3) more easily give themselves up to sexual abandon because, again, there is no future commitment; (4) are more willing to put each other at risk for the same reason; and (5) if they do provide pleasure for each other, they do so as a means to attaining their own sexual pleasure. So X attends to Y’s pleasure because this gives X pleasure (X enjoys the activity, enjoys Y’s pleasure in receiving the activity, or desires that Y return the favor). Indeed, attending to Y’s pleasure for Y’s own sake seems to require that X ”snap out” of the grip of X’s own sexual desire so that X can focus on Y and on Y’s pleasure, which would kill or severely dampen X’s sexual desire or pleasure, thereby defeating the very point of X’s engaging in CS&P. So CS&P satisfy to the hilt the selfishness or self—interestedness of sexual desire. They are, then, necessarily objectifying.

If pessimism about sexual desire is true, what can the defender of CS&P say in their defense? Obviously, he can reject the pessimist View.¹⁴ But to see whether CS&P objectify, we must accept the worst about sexual desire. If we don’t, not only do we take the easy way out, but we also cannot be sure that sexual desire is not objectifying (what if the pessimist about sex is correct?).

Instead, the defender of CS&P can adopt two argumentative strategies. First, he can argue that objectification is not a necessary feature of CS&P ; whether CS&P objectify depends on whether they fall short of the conditions required to avoid objectification. Second, he can argue that even if CS&P objectify (whether because objectification is a necessary feature of CS&P or because it happens to be present in a particular act), other factors might override it such that the sexual act is not, overall, morally wrong. Let’s start with the first strategy.

2. Why CS&P Are Not Necessarily Objectifying: First Attempt

Consider again Nussbaum and Langton’s ways in which people can be objectified. Clearly, casual sex need not involve one partner treating the other as lacking in autonomy, as inert, as Violable, as owned, and as lacking subjectivity. Indeed, it (usually) involves the exact opposite. For example, in taking into account Clark’s sexual desires, Lois considers him to have autonomy, self-determination, and agency. Furthermore, she does not consider him to be violable, because she attributes to him boundaries and integrity in two ways: first, by not treating Clark contrary to his desires and, second, precisely by treating him in accordance with his desires. Lois also, for the same reasons, does not treat Clark as an owned object. Finally, in taking his sexual desires and needs into account, she certainly does not treat him ”as something whose experience and feelings . . . need not be taken into account.”¹⁵

Moreover, because partners to casual sex can take each other’s desires and wants into account they do not treat each other as mere bodies, even though they usually focus on each other’s bodies and even though they probably engage in casual sex because they like each other’s physical appearance.¹⁶ But it does not follow that objectification is occurring, unless it also follows (which it does not) that in my focusing on a dancer’s body or a chef’s hands I objectify her.

They also, for similar reasons, don’t treat each other as incapable of speaking.¹⁷ And while the focus on each other’s body could take the form of treating the other ”primarily in terms of how they look,” this need not imply objectification. Indeed, in signing up for casual sex, the partners expect and even want to be treated primarily in terms of their appearance: if a woman or a man is proud of their shapely thighs, they might want their partner to pay sexual attention to them. For the same reasons, promiscuity need not involve objectification in any of the above ways.

This leaves us with instrumentality and fungibility. Consider fungibility first. Suppose that X goes to abar in search of casual sex. In doing so, X treats the people in the bar as fungible, as interchangeable with others of the same type (potential sex partners for X). Yet no one should object that X is somehow treating one wrongly, because, like merchants who compete for people’s money, people in a bar often compete for others’ sexual attention. They consent to being treated as interchangeable with other people of the same type.

With instrumentality, the argument also relies on consent. So long as the parties consent to the act, they do not treat each other merely as tools. Consent, that is, is sufficient to convert using someone merely as a means into using someone not merely as a means, because in consenting to what Y desires, X respects Y’s wishes. Thus, and to return to the grocer example, by, or in, paying him, we respect his wishes to be a seller, not someone to be abused and robbed. This seems to be true of CS&P. Like many non—sexual interactions, the partners respect each other’s sexual needs, desires, and wishes. X is willing to perform oral sex on Y if Y desires it (X is even sometimes happy to!). Indeed, even if X uses Y only as a ”piece of meat,” X would not use Y only as a tool as long as X is complying with Y’s desire to ”Use me as a piece of meat!" In doing Y’s bidding, X seems to not be objectifying Y—that is, treating Y merely as an object. If anything, it seems to be a form of respect.

So runs the argument attempting to show why CS&P are not necessarily objectifying. In short, so long as the parties do not treat each other in all the possible ways of objectifying someone, or, if they do, do so with each other’s consent, CS&P are not, in those cases, objectifying. Therefore, CS&P are not necessarily objectifying.

3. Why the First Attempt Fails

Given the pessimist View of sexual desire, the above defense of CS&P is problematic because it does not fully appreciate the problem with sexual desire, especially in regard to instrumentality.¹⁸ Consider that while Kant agrees that consent is sufficient to render many human interactions non—objectifying, he disagrees regarding sex. The reason is that sexual desire is pernicious (a pessimist View of sex), since it is the only human ”inclination” that ”is directed towards other human beings. They themselves, and not their work and services, are‘its objects of enjoyment.”¹⁹ Sexual desire makes its object exactly that—an object of desire. Because by its nature sexual desire pushes human beings to disregard the humanity in each other (and in themselves), consent is not enough to make sexual activity non—objectifying. Thus, if X and Y consent to a sexual act, they consent to an immoral activity. Indeed, each consents to two moral wrongs: X consents to objectify Y and to be objectified by Y (ditto for Y).²⁰

To Kant, we must never treat people only as a means, but always, at the same time, as an end. It is not fully clear what this means, but one crucial idea is that when dealing with other people we must respect their morally permissible goals. Often, this is satisfied simply by not hindering them. But sometimes we must adopt them: we must take on others’ goals as our own. In Kant’s words, ”we make others our end” and we have a duty ”to make the human being as such as an end.”²¹ We must help that person promote his goals for his or her sake, not for selfish, self—interested, or other reasons.

Now given the pessimist View of sexual desire, CS&P face two difficulties. First, if sexual desire makes us View our sexual partners as tools for its satisfaction, it is hard to see how partners to CS&P can adopt each other’s sexual goals for their own sakes. Second, even if this is possible, it is hard tolsee why they may, let alone should, because if sexual desire is by nature objectifying, it is not a morally permissible goal that may be adopted. Thus, the defender of CS&P has her work cut out for her.

But here we should be careful. The reason usually given for why satisfying sexual desire is wrong is that sexual desire is objectifying—X’s satisfying Y’s sexual desire is wrong because it involves X objectifying Y. So if there were cases in which sexual desire can be satisfied without objectification, satisfying it in those cases would not be wrong. For example, if X can sexually satisfy Y for Y’s own sake, then X would not have objectified Y nor would have Y allowed him or herself to be objectified.

So whether sex is wrong hinges on why partners sexually satisfy each other’s sexual desires—what their motives are. That is, the existence of the second difficulty hinges on the existence of the first. To see this point better, compare it to a non-sexual case. Suppose Y’s goal is to murder Z. Can X help Y attain Y’s goal for Y’s own sake? Yes. Should X do so? No, because murder is wrong regardless of X’s motives in helping Y. This is not so with sexual acts. There, if X can help Y attain Y’s sexual goals without objectifying Y (or X allowing him or herself to be objectified), the sole (or main) reason for thinking the goal of sexual satisfaction wrong is removed. So whether X’s satisfaction of Y’s sexual goals is wrong depends on whether X satisfies them for Y’s sake.

But the sexual pessimist is still on strong territory. As we have seen, the motives, given the nature of sexual desire, are selfish or self-interested (to attain sexual pleasure). Thus, in CS&P the partners cannot take on each other’s goals for their own sakes; they thereby treat each other only as a means. Thus, CS&P are necessarily objectifying.²²

4. Why CS&P Are Not Necessarily Objectifying: Second Attempt

We can get around this problem by distinguishing between the nature of sexual desire and particular cases of it. The idea is that even if sexual desire is by nature objectifying, this means only that it has to be especially guarded against, not that we must necessarily succumb to its pernicious nature. That is, that something is so—and-so by nature does not mean that its nature cannot be overcome (e.g., lions are by nature dangerous to human beings, but it does not mean that particular lions cannot be tamed). If true, this leaves the door open to cases in which sexual partners do not sexually objectify each other (or themselves).

What cases are these, and could some of them be of CS&P? Could X and Y, partners to a casual sex act, at least at some points during the act, attend to each other’s sexual wants and pleasures for their own sake? Yes, because human beings do not always treat each other selfishly or self-interestedly. They can, and sometimes do, show concern for others even when in the grip of sexual desires or other powerful psychological forces. Kant himself gives an example of a man who, though his mind is clouded with sorrow, is able to attend to his duties to his fellow human beings.²³ The power of sexual desire, as overwhelming as it usually is, need not be so thoroughgoing that it blinds us, always, to the sexual needs of our partners. So, for example, realizing that Y enjoys receiving oral sex, X performs oral sex on Y, for the sake of Y, not because X enjoys performing oral sex on Y, not because X sexually enjoys Y’s pleasure, and not because X desires Y to reciprocate, but, say, because X is genuinely committed to the happiness of others, including Y’s, because X is kind, because X happens to like Y and wants Y to have a good time, because X is fair, believing that because Y gave X pleasure, X should return the favor, or even because X happens to love Y. If X can do so, then X does not objectify Y (nor does Y allow himself to be objectified if Y agrees to allow X to sexually satisfy Y from these motives by X). Thus, because partners to casual sex can satisfy Kant’s requirements for treating someone else as an end, and not only as a means, casual sex is not necessarily objectifying. And if casual sex is not necessarily objectifying, then neither is promiscuous sex. For if promiscuous sex is frequently—engaged—in casual sex with different partners within a (short) period of'time, partners to it could also attend to each other’s sexual goals for their own sake; the frequency, variety, and time period of promiscuous sex are irrelevant to this (but see below).

That it is possible for X to attend to Y’s sexual needs for the sake of Y says nothing, in and of itself, about X’s sexual state of mind. In giving Y oral sex, X might or might not be enjoying it (and keep in mind that just because X enjoys sexually pleasing Y does not imply that X sexually pleases Y because X enjoys it), might or might not be disgusted by it, might or might not be indifferent to it. The point is that X performs oral sex on Y for the sake of Y. It concerns a type of reason or motive for performing oral sex, not X’s sexual mental state. The pessimist about sexual desire (including Kant) claims that when X attends to Y’s sexual goals, X does so for selfish or self-interested reasons. The defender of CS&P Claims that this is not necessary, that it is possible for X to attend to Y’s sexual goals for Y’s own sake.²⁴ And if the Kantian or the pessimist thinks that such cases are impossible, she needs to show us why, given that human beings are capable of overcoming their powerful impulses in some cases.

5. Why the Second Attempt (Probably) Fails

Let’s agree that it is possible for X to perform oral sex on Y for Y’s own sake, from the motive of wanting to help Y attain sexual satisfaction for Y’s sake (and that it is possible for Y to agree to this). Let’s also agree that it is even possible that X sexually enjoys the act without thereby making X’s motives morally suspect; as noted, we must not confuse X’s sexually (or even non-sexually) enjoying something with X’s reason for doing that thing. Still, it does not seem possible that X perform oral sex on Y from the motive of sexualdesire Without objectifying Y. That is, if what motivates X is sexual desire, as opposed to something else, the case is clinched, for X’s sexual desire for Y precludes other motives that might render X’s performing oral sex on Y non-objectifying, because to sexually desire Y is to desire Y as a body, as an object (on the Kantian pessimist view). Once X attends to Y’s sexual needs from sexual desire, X objectifies Y. And when X attends to Y’s sexual needs for their own sake, X does so not from sexual desire (we can tame the lion, but it would no longer be a lion). Indeed, Kant’s charitable person who is able to help others despite his sadness does so from the motive of duty, not from sadness or the emotional state he is in. It seems, then, that sexual desire necessarily objectifies, and CS&P are in the thick of it. What needs to be shown to escape this conclusion is that one can act out of sexual desire and simultaneously attend to one’s partner’s sexual needs for the latter’s own sake. I find this task difficult, though I don’t deny its possibility (hence the ”probably” in this subsection’s title). I set it aside.

6. Why Casual Sex and Promiscuity Are Likely Objectifying

Even if it is true that CS&P need not necessarily objectify, this says nothing about how frequently they do and do not. This is an empirical issue, of course, but in all likelihood they do objectify. This is for three related reasons. First, human beings tend to be selfish and self—interested. At the very least, people’s commitment to morality~—if we can speak of commitment at all—is sporadic. This means that whether they act by taking on others’ goals as their ends depends on their moods, emotions, what occupies them, and so forth.²⁵ I have no evidence for this claim in the form of empirical studies (and I’m not sure what form such studies would take), but human history, the complexity of human psychology, and simply looking around give me very little confidence that people have strong moral fiber.

Second, because satisfying sexual desire is so pleasurable (that’s what makes the desire so powerful), and because attending to one’s partner’s sexual goals for their own sake (usually, if not always) requires getting out of the grip of one’s desire, the likelihood of people attending to each other’s sexual goals for their own sakes decreases. That is, if X is in the grip of sexual desire, paying attention to Y for Y’s sake means getting out of the desire’s grip, which means not satisfying the desire, which means no pleasure for X. This defeats one of the main purposes of having sex.

Third, because the very point of CS&P is attaining sexual pleasure, and because by definition partners to CS&P lack future commitments to each other, the likelihood that they would act selflessly toward each other is close to zero. In all likelihood, they would use each other so as to satisfy their own sexual desires, including being more willing to deceive each other, to give themselves up to sexual abandon, and to take risks. And if paying more attention to others for their own sake means less sexual pleasure, partners to CS&P are not likely at all to pay sexual attention to each other for each other’s sake; otherwise, why engage in CS&P to begin with? Imagine now both partners attending to each other’s sexual wants for their own respective sakes, and you’ll see how the sexual pleasure is entirely sucked out of the act. This is why it is also not likely that the partners would agree to being sexually satisfied by each other out of moral considerations, for this also defeats the point of sexual desire. Knowing that one sexually excites another is a crucial motive for engaging in sex, especially CS&P, because it heightens one’s own sexual pleasure.

We must then face the fact that CS&P are likely rife with objectification. Indeed, the promiscuous person carries a very heavy moral burden, because if avoiding objectification requires getting out of the grip of sexual desire to attend to her partner’s sexual desires for their own sake, and if getting out of sexual desire’s grip is difficult, the chances of one doing so become smaller and smaller the more one engages in casual sex with different people. The promiscuous person is then likely to engage in objectification quite frequently.

7. Two Possible Replies

At this point, defenders of CS&P have two options. The first is familiar: relax Kant’s stringent requirements and argue that as long as the parties respect each other’s Wishes, desires, "and boundaries, and as long as they attend to each other’s sexual pleasure, even if for selfish or self-interested reasons, the sex is not objectifying. After all, when we pay the grocer we usually do so not for his own sake but for selfish or self-interested reasons (to get the groceries we want) without thereby doing something wrong. Why not, then, apply the same reasoning to sexual interaction? This option, basically, considers sexual desire and activity to be on a par with other human desires and activities. Thus, if consent is sufficient for these other activities, it also is for sexual ones.

This option abandons the pessimistic View of sexual desire, treating sexual desire as benign. For all we know, a benign view might be true, but by assuming it we do not address the worries of the pessimists and we take the easy way out.

The second option is to accept that CS&P are indeed objectifying, but to argue that the immorality of objectification is not so serious as to require the parties to refrain from engaging in sexual activity, including CS&P.

How might one argue for this view? Let’s first state the argument loosely. In teaching this issue over the years, my students tended to react as follows: ”Okay. Sex has lots of objectification, and objectification is wrong. We get it. But so what? What is so horrible about sexual objectification?” What my students’ reaction amounts to is that even though objectification is wrong, it is not so wrong as to require us to refrain from engaging in sex, including CS&P, when sex can be so pleasurable. Putting the argument less loosely, the idea is to first argue that even though sexual objectification is wrong it is not a serious wrong (except in special cases, like rape), and to then argue that other factors compete with objectification’s not-so—serious wrong, making sexual activity possibly morally permissible.

How is sexual objectification not a serious wrong? It is usually consensual, attentive, and not harmful. Contrast it with lying or coercion: they are serious moral wrongs because they not only involve using others as mere means but also lack consent, and they can (and often do) harm their victims. Not so with sexual objectification, because, first, X and Y usually consent to the sexual activity, which, second, even though it involves the use of each other, and of themselves, as mere instruments, is not an activity that, especially if they take precautions (against, for example, STDs), harms them (as when they consent to chop off each other’s limbs) or harms other beings (as when they agree to rob a bank or to go cow tipping). Third, they are attentive to each other’s sexual desires and needs (even if for selfish or self-interested reasons). So the wrong of sexual objectification, as real as it is, is not very serious.²⁶

Second, there are good things about sex, including CS&P, that compete with the not-so—serious wrong of objectification, possibly rendering it overall morally permissible. First and most obviously, it is very pleasurable: there is pleasure in the very prospect of having sex, pleasure during the sexual activity itself (including foreplay), and pleasure in attaining orgasms (among other possible pleasures). Indeed, for many people who are not able to experience lofty pleasures (e.g., from reading classical Arabic poetry, contemplating Velazquez paintings, or drowning in the joyous seas of interpreting Wittgenstein), sexual pleasure is one of the few pleasures they have. Second, sexual activity is recreational, often providing (like other activities, such as solving jigsaw puzzles) needed entertainment, release, intense focus, and other forms of distraction from the humdrum or toil of everyday life. Third, for those people who do not desire or have time for monogamy, love, or a relationship, and for those who prefer sexual variety and the lack of love and sexual commitments, CS&P allow them to satisfy their sexual urges without the complications of relationships. Finally, according to some moral views, leading a rich, human life is important for human beings to ﬂourish or live well. If sexual activity, undertaken moderately and in overall morally permissible ways, is part of such a life, then CS&P can contribute to it.²⁷

The above four factors need not be the only ones, and they are not all of a moral nature (some are pleasure—related, some pragmatic). But the point is that if we couple the not-so—serious moral wrong of objectification with the above factors, sexual activity, including CS&P, might emerge as overall morally permissible.

Concluding Remarks

I have argued that on a pessimist View of sexual desire and given the point of CS&P (sexual pleasure), there is a strong case to be made that CS&P necessarily objectify, and that even if they do not, they likely objectify. I have also suggested an argument that, despite the objectification, CS&P might be overall permissible. However, this does not mean that CS&P are morally in the clear, because they can be wrong for other reasons. For example, casual sex can be wrong because it is adulterous, done from bad motives, or (if conservatives are correct) love-less. It can be wrong because the objectification is not overridden by other factors. Promiscuity might be wrong because it involves the overvaluation of sex. Thus, whether they are wrong in particular cases depends on all the relevant factors.²⁸

Notes

This is Albert Ellis’s definition, ”Casual Sex,” International journal of Moral and Social Studies 1:2 (1986), 157—69. For more on CS&P, see (G. E. M. Anscombe, "Contraception and Chastity,” The Human World no. 7 (1972), 9—30 (reprinted, revised, in Ethics and Population, edited by Michael Bayles [Cambridge, Mass: Schenkman, 1976], 134—53); Frederick Elliston, “In Defense of Promiscuity,” in Philosophy and Sex, 1st ed., edited by Robert Baker and Frederick Elliston (Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus, 1975), 223—43; Raja Halwani, Virtuous Liaisons: Care, Love, Sex, and Virtue Ethics (Chicago: Open Court, 2003), chapter 3; Raja Halwani, ”Casual Sex,” in Sex from Plato to Paglia: A Philosophical Encyclopedia, edited by Alan Soble (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2006), 136—42; Raja Halwani, ”Casual Sex, Promiscuity, and Temperance,” in Sex and Ethics: Essays on Sexuality, Virtue, and the Good Life, edited by Raja Halwani (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 215—25; and Kristjan Kristjansson, “Casual Sex Revisited,” Journal of Social Philosophy 29:2 (1998), 97—108.
There are four options, with varying degrees of cogency: (1) X him or herself is not having casual sex, though the sex X is having is casual (what would this mean?); (2) the sex-that-X-has is not casual, but the sex-that—Y—has is casual; (3) the sex is both casual and non-casual (a contradiction); and (4) there is no single answer because the answer is relative: to X the sex is not casual, to Y it is.
Kant, Lectures on Ethics, translated by Louis Infield (Indianapolis, Ind.: Hackett, 1963) 163.
Of course, human beings are objects in that they are objects of this universe much like any other entity. They are also objects in a physical sense: they are made of the same stuff (the elements) that typical objects are made of. Each of these senses is compatible with human beings having a special property in virtue of which they should not be treated merely as objects are treated.
See Alan Soble, Pornography, Sex, and Feminism (Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus, 2002), for an excellent discussion.
One philosopher who thinks that mere regard could be objectifying is Martha Nussbaum. See her example of ”M” and "F” in ”Feminism, Virtue, and Objectification,” in Sex and Ethics, edited by Halwani, 49—62, at 54—55. See Alan Soble’s reply, "Concealment and Exposure: A Mostly Temperate and Courageous Afterword," also in Sex and Ethics, 229—52, at 248—51. Another philosopher who thinks that mere regard could be objectifying is Rae Langton ("Autonomy-Denial in Objectification,” in Sexual Solipsism: Philosophical Essays on Pornography and Objectification [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009], 223—40).
Nussbaum argues that objectification is permissible in relationships generally characterized by mutual respect; see ”Objectification,” Philosophy and Public Affairs 24:4 (1995), 249-91 (reprinted in Philosophy of Sex: Contemporary Readings, 4th edition, edited by Alan Soble [Lanham, Md.: Rowman 8: Littlefield, 2002], 381—419). For discussions of her views, see Alan Soble, “Sexual Use” (sections ”Thick Externalism” and ”Thick Extended Externalism,” in this volume); Patricia Marino, ”The Ethics of Sexual Objectification: Autonomy and Consent,” Inquiry 51:4 (2008), 345—64; Rae Langton, ”Autonomy-Denial in Objectification”; and Raja Halwani, Philosophy of Love, Sex, and Marriage: An Introduction (New York: Routledge, 2010), 194—97.
This might stretch the concept of "tool” too much, since we think of tools as things that, though needed to attain goals, are in principle replaceable by other things, so long as the goal is attained, whereas we think that beloveds are not replaceable.
Nussbaum, ”Objectification,” 257. Her seventh way is not well worded. There are cases in which it is permissible to not take someone’s feelings and experiences into account. For example, X must set aside Y’s fear of syringes in order to inject Y with the needed medicine. What Nussbaum intends, I suppose, is treating someone as if they lack feelings and experiences.
Langton, ”Autonomy-Denial in Objectification,” 228—29. In her three ways (and in her wording of Nussbaum’s seventh), Langton changes Nussbaum’s “objectifier” to ”one” because the latter has a more neutral sense; in cases in which the object is an ordinary object (not a person), one is notbeing an objectifier (226n7).
I would be as confident about the ninth way were it not for the word ”primarily”; in some cases — say, at a modeling agency—treating someone primarily in terms of how they look is perfectly appropriate. Then again, it is not clear what Langton means by ”primarily.”
See Alan Soble, ”The Analytic Categories of the Philosophy of Sex,” in The Philosophy of Sex: Contemporary Readings, 6th ed., edited by Nicholas Power, Raja Halwani, and Alan Soble (Lanham, Md: Rowman & Littlefield, 2013), 1—21, for Soble’s discussion-which I freely (and thankfully) borrow and adapt—of the metaphysical sexual pessimists and the metaphysical sexual optimists. I focus on sexual desire and discuss sexual activity insofar as it results from sexual desire. (The essay is reprinted, with additions by Raja Halwani, in this volume. The version in the sixth edition is utilized for ease of reference to Soble’s own points.)
Soble, ”Analytic Categories,” 4.
There is an optimistic View of sexual desire (which Soble claims to find in the work of Irving Singer), according to which it is a force that can bring people together, bring them pleasure and joy, and is conducive to their well-being (”Analytic Categories," 5—6).
Nussbaum, ”Objectification,” 257.
Indeed, beyond paying attention to the quality that purportedly elevates people over objects, few other things can destroy casual sexual activity. (Y: ”Why are you suddenly asking me about my hobbies?” X: ”I want to treat you as a full person, not as a hobby—less piece of meat." Y: [eyes rolling] ”OMG.”)
The silencing issue is complicated. Langton argues in several essays that sometimes pornography is causally implicated in rendering women silent; she means that their desires, particularly their refusals to engage in sex, are not heard (see Sexual Solipsism, especially ”Speech Acts as Unspeakable Acts”). It is possible, then, that in casual sex women are not heard and are objectified in this sense. However, the objectification would not occur because the sex is casual, but because women’s silence cuts across many social areas.
Indeed, those who charge CS&P with necessary objectification should focus on instrumentality, since CS&P need not involve the other objectifications.
Kant, Lectures on Ethics, 162. On Kant's views, see Thomas Mappes, ”Sexual Morality and the Concept of Using Another Person” (in this volume); Lara Denis, ”Kant on the Wrongness of 'Unnatural Sex,'” History of Philosophy Quarterly 16:2 (1999), 225—48; Lara Denis, ”Sex and the Virtuous Kantian Agent,” in Sex and Ethics, edited by Raja Halwani, 37—48; Soble, “Sexual Use”; and Halwani, Philosophy of Love, Sex, and Marriage, 200—210.
For Kant, marriage is the only solution to sexual objectification. I do not discuss his solution because it is problematic; see Lara Denis, “From Friendship to Marriage: Revisiting Kant," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 63:1 (2001), 1—28. Soble, however, thinks that Kant’s solution is coherent; see ”Sexual Use.”
Kant, Metaphysics of Morals 6:393 and 6:395, trans. and edited by Mary I. Gregor, in Practical Philosophy, the Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). These remarks by Kant are made in the context of his argument for beneficence as a duty (thanks to Alan Soble for showing me his e-mail exchange with Lara Denis about this issue). See also Onora O’Neill, ”Between Consenting Adults,” in Constructions of Reason: Explorations of Kant’s Practical Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 105—25.
Note an interesting result: sexual acts done not from sexual desire need not be morally wrong on this view, because they would not stem from the manipulative, overpowering, and pernicious impulse of sexual desire. Thus, when sex workers have sex with clients from non-sexual desires, when spouses oblige and have sex with their spouses when they do not desire sex, when gorgeous Ahmad has sex with Matt because he wants Matt to have a taste of heaven, and so on—these sexual acts, if wrong, are not wrong on the ground that they are objectifying.
Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals 4:398, translated by James W. Ellington (Indianapolis, Ind: Hackett, 1981).
Note that X can attend to Y’s sexual goals neither for selfish reasons not for reasons related to Y’s goals: X might believe that God commanded X to do so.
This is one reason Kant refused to ground morality in human nature.
One might object that (1) the genuineness of consent is problematic because the agreement is warped by the power of sexual desire. This may be true; however, because the consent is usually to a harmless activity, a warped judgment might not be a general serious issue, but serious only in particular cases (e.g., fellatio in the Oval Office). One might object that (2) this argument brings in consequentialist reasons into a non-consequentialist, Kantian framework. But neither Kant himself nor his followers shun consequentialist considerations (their concern is to decide when and to what extent they are morally relevant). Further, Kant or no Kant, harm is an important moral factor that needs to be taken into account in assessing the overall morality of action or types of actions.
On temperate and moderate CS&P, see Halwani, Virtuous Liaisons, chapter 3; Halwani, ”Casual Sex, Promiscuity, and Temperance.”
Thanks to Patricia Marino and Nicholas Power for comments on an earlier draft. Special thanks to Alan Soble, whose trenchant comments showed me the need to change my arguments and conclusions.