Published here by permission of the editors.
- Revised version -
Originally published in: Anthropological Notebooks (Slovene Anthropological Society).
Guest Editor: Gregor Starc. Ljubljana, Slovenia, Nr.XIII/1 (2007), pp. 5-32.
ABSTRACT
1.
INTRODUCTION
2.
ANTHROPOLOGICAL MISPRISIONS OF KINSEY'S WORK
3. SEXUAL UNIQUENESS
4. KINSEY'S
"INDIVIDUALS"
5. NATURAL
CONTINUITIES AND CLASSIFICATORY CONVENIENCES
6. A NEW DISTRIBUTIONAL SCHEME OF BEHAVIORAL SEXUALITY
7. TAXONOMY AND INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENCES
8.
INDIVIDUALS, ACTS, AND SEXUAL CATEGORIES
9. THE
MANY-LAYERED CONTINUITIES OF THE SEXUAL
10.
DICHOTOMOUS SEXUALITY AND THE FEMALE PHALLUS
11. THE
TRANSSEXUAL CHALLENGE
12. SEXUAL HISTORIES AND THE DISMANTLEMENT OF SEXUAL
NORMALCY
13.
STATISTICS AND INDIVIDUALITY
14. SEXUAL
COMPARTMENTATIONS AND SOCIETAL CONSTRICTIONS
15. "OUR CENTRAL ENEMY"
16. ON NATURE
AND LIFE
17. CHRISTIAN
CRITICS OF THE KINSEYAN PROJECT
18.
RE-INSTATING BINARY SEXUALITY
19. ANTHROPOLOGY,
HOMOSEXUALITY, AND SEXUAL DIFFERENCE
20. QUEER
PURSUITS AND CLITORAL SUBVERSIONS
REFERENCES
The study examines anthropology’s ongoing neglect of
the theoretical challenges posed by Alfred Kinsey’s (1894-1956)
critique of binary sexuality and his re-definition of sexual difference. Focusing on the
universal variability of life and the many-leveled continuities of the sexual,
Kinsey propounded a deconstructive approach of sex research conducive to a
paradigm shift at the core of sexology that allows grasping sexuality as a
matter of individual differences within a continuous scheme of sexual
distribution. While Kinsey’s disruptive contentions have been mostly
disregarded by anthropologists for decades, they continue to incite, on the one
side, infuriated reactions from the proponents of a Bible-inspired re-instatement
of the clear-cut male/female divide, and, on the other, enthusiastic
recognition from post-modern advocates of a queer unsettling and rethinking of
traditional conceptualizations of sexuality that operate with closed sets of
sexual alternatives.
KEYWORDS: anthropology and sexuality, life/vitalism, male/female divide,
sexology, sexual categories
‘Pour nous, il existe semble-t-il non pas un ou deux sexes mais autant de
sexes (cf. Guattari/Deleuze) qu’il y a d’individus’ (Wittig 2001: 107 – 108).
‘C´est cela, les machines désirantes ou le sexe non humain: non pas un ni
deux, mais n… sexes’ (Deleuze and Guattari 1999: 352).
‘Ainsi l´humanité dans le temps humain, anti-animal, du travail est-elle en
nous ce qui nous réduit à des choses et l´animalité est alors ce qui garde en
nous la valeur d´une existence du sujet pour lui-même’ (Bataille 1988: 354).
Eric Wolf’s often-quoted depiction of
anthropology as ‘the most scientific of the humanities, and the most humanistic
of the sciences’ (1974: 88) is hardly validated by the discipline’s response to
the theoretical challenges posed by sexology and gender studies. Indicatively,
contemporary anthropology has mostly shunned revisiting its assumption and
implementation of binomial sexual schemes and the ensuing same-sex and
other-sex combinatories. Prefiguring this questionable self-reliance, Max
Scheler (1874-1928), Helmuth Plessner (1892-1985), and Arnold Gehlen
(1904-1976) – the founders of anthropology as a philosophical discipline[1]
– blatantly ignored the overwhelming evidence against the binary conception of
sexuality adduced by Magnus Hirschfeld (1868-1935) in his ‘doctrine of sexual
intermediaries’ (see Bauer 1998/2003, 2007). When anthropology was already well
established as a social science in the middle of the twentieth century, an
analogous reaction took place with regard to the work of Alfred C. Kinsey
(1894-1956). While generally acknowledging the scientific import and cultural
impact of Kinsey’s reports on male and female sexual behaviour (see Kinsey
1948, 1998),[2] the leading
social and cultural anthropologists of the time conveniently avoided
confronting his deconstructive approach of dichotomous sexual schemes. Despite
the early focus on sexuality in studies such as Bronislaw Malinowski’s Sex
and Repression in Savage Society (1927), later generations of
anthropologists who could have benefited from Kinsey’s sexological insights
consistently neglected his principled disruption of closed sexual schemes, and
contented themselves with – at most – supplementing the
traditionally-sanctioned sexual binary with an allegedly ‘third sex’ inclusive
of all forms of sexual deviancy. Such half-hearted strategies of theoretical
modernization add plausibility to Carole S. Vance’s contention that
‘anthropology as a field has been far from courageous or even adequate in its
investigation of sexuality’ (Vance 2007: 41).[3]
In the rather uneventful reception of Kinsey’s
work within anthropology, it is doubtless significant that Edgar Gregersen
dedicated his impressive anthropological survey of Sexual Practices to
the memory of Alfred C. Kinsey, whom he epitomizes as ‘still the most
spectacular light in the history of the study of human sexuality’ (Gregersen
1984: [2]). Discussing the sexologist’s Wirkungsgeschichte,Gregersen
pertinently indicates that ‘there still remains virtually nothing even remotely
approaching a Kinsey Report for any non-western society. Anthropologists,
however, tend to be quite free with their criticism of the work of the Kinsey
team’ (Gregersen 1984: 37). This attitude is well illustrated by Kinsey’s
contemporary Margaret Mead (1901-1978), who, despite her voluminous study
titled Male and Female (Mead 1996), disregarded Kinsey’s attempts to
disrupt binary schemes of sexual distribution. Obviating any in-depth
discussion of Kinsey’s ground ideas, Mead stated that ‘the principle things
that make the Kinsey [Male] report a cultural phenomenon of sorts are
two: its scale and the amount of publicity it has received, not its findings’
(Mead 1948: 58). On these assumptions, she went on to expatiate on what she
considered Kinsey’s mechanistic reduction of sex to ‘the category of a simple
act of elimination’ (Mead 1948: 61). Complementary to Mead’s assertion that
Kinsey’s view of sex is ‘excremental rather than sacramental’ (Mead 1948: 64)
is her contention that the sexologist obliterates the interpersonal context and
biological significance of sexuality for the sake of ‘quantification,
justification by numbers, atomization’ (Mead 1948: 67).[4]
In contrast with Mead’s prevalently idiosyncratic assessments, Gilbert Herdt
seems to be one of the first anthropologists to have sensed the critical import
of Kinsey’s focus on sexual categorizations. In this regard, he acknowledges
that Kinsey – that great
quantifier of American sexuality, who was trained in zoology –could well
understand the difficulties involved in the classification of [sexual] acts, as
we see when he remarked that it is the human mind, not nature, that classifies
(Herdt 1994a: 15).
Notwithstanding his recognition of Kinsey’s
epistemological perceptiveness, Herdt proceeds to portray the sexologist as an
[…] unerring
dimorphic thinker, who never questioned the idea of male and female as a
fundamental classification of humans, even as he helped to deconstruct the
received biologism of homosexual and heterosexual in sexual study (Herdt 1994a:
15).
As to the genesis of Kinsey’s shortcomings,
Herdt suggests that his notion of human sexual types constitutes ‘a survival of
the realistic zoological penchant of nineteenth-century thought in
twentieth-century thinkers’ (Herdt 1994b: 35). Regardless of their brevity,
Herdt’s objections betray an astounding misprision of the decisive role
taxonomy played in Kinsey’s grasp of the sexual uniqueness of individuals.
Only recently, a pioneering collection of essays
titled Out in Theory. The Emergence of Lesbian and Gay Anthropology has
sought ‘to situate gay and lesbian anthropology in the larger history of the
discipline’ (Lewin & Leap 2007: 5). In her contribution to the volume,
Gayle Rubin is keen to acknowledge ‘the enormity of the contributions of
Kinsey’ (2002: 55), and asserts that ‘Indiana University, where the Kinsey
Institute was located, served as major intellectual loci for redefining
sexuality and resituating sexual deviance’ (ibid.: 22). In her further
elaborations, Rubin underscores the importance and influence not only of
Kinsey’s distinction between sexual acts and named sexual identities (see Rubin
2002: 57), but also – and perhaps more importantly – of his postulation of the
heterosexual/homosexual continuum and the anti-dualistic stance it implies (see
Rubin 2002: 37, 57). Despite her lavish praise of the sexologist, however,
Rubin neglects – not unlike Herdt – the relevancy of Kinsey’s taxonomic
approach of nature to his sexological apprehension of the individual. In view
of Herdt’s and Rubin’s oversights, it is all the more significant that Bill Condon,
the writer and director of the critically acclaimed motion picture Kinsey (see Feld 2004: 215-16), stressed
the significance of the sexologist’s oeuvre for contemporary reassessments of
sexual individuality. As Condon asserted in a 2004 interview, ‘Dr. Kinsey was a
scientist who tried to categorize everyone [...] and then used that process to
prove that everyone was different’ (Feld 2004: 216). Moreover, Condon
maintained:
Kinsey’s basic idea,
if you were to put it in a nutshell, is that everyone’s sexuality is unique.
Having collected over a million gall wasps, he discovered that none of those
tiny insects was identical to another. He then took that notion of individual
variation and applied it to human sexuality. The problem, as he saw it, was that,
though we’re all different, we all need to feel part of the group to feel
reassured that what we do is normal.
But there’s no such thing as normal – there’s only common or rare. That’s all
that Kinsey was trying to figure out: what was common and what was rare (Feld
2004: 224).
Whereas in Herdt’s estimate Kinsey merely
mirrors the pervading dualisms of Western thought in his allegedly
classificatory zeal, Condon salutes his disruptive strategies against
taxonomical closures on behalf of the categorially non-subsumable individual:
‘[...] that’s what’s so moving about Kinsey. He was always speaking out for the
individual’ (Feld 2004: 225). Corroborating Condon’s views, Rob Feld, the
interviewer, contributed in due course the illuminating comment: ‘By using the
mob’s own tendency to categorize and label, Kinsey subverted that very process
by showing its impossibility’ (Feld 2004: 216).
Condon’s views on the overall demarche of
Kinsey’s sexology are suggestive of a careful reading of texts mostly
disregarded, but highly relevant to the epistemic premises of his research and
œuvre. Indeed, Condon clearly draws in his elaborations on a text that was published under the title Individuals
by Cornelia Christenson at the opening of her Kinsey biography, and is considered
to be the first exposition of Kinsey’s ‘sexual philosophy’ (Gathorne-Hardy
1999: 152). Despite being originally only an address delivered by Kinsey as
president of the Indiana University chapter of Phi Beta Kappa to its newly
elected members in 1939, the text in question offers an indispensable
hermeneutical key for determining the ground assumptions of his sexology. As
Christenson underlines,
this brief statement,
written when he had spent twenty years studying gall wasps and was just
embarking on the study of sex, epitomizes the philosophy that underlay all of
Kinsey’s work. As a taxonomist he was impressed by the limitless variety of
living creatures, whether gall wasps or human beings, and by the scientific and
social import of recognizing their differences (Christenson 1971: 3).
In his speech, Kinsey highlights the universal
variability of life and remarks that the endless re-combinations of biologic
characters in different individuals ‘[…] swell the possibilities to something
which is, for all essential purposes, infinity’ (1971a: 5; emphasis
added). On these premises, Kinsey goes on to make a decisive critical
assertion: ‘The failure to recognize this unlimited nonidentity has, even in
biology, vitiated much of our scientific work’ (ibid.). Although the text does
not mention explicitly the sexual variability of human beings, it is apparent
that Kinsey’s axioms regarding the ‘multiplicity of types which range
continuously’ (ibid.: 8) are not only directly applicable to sexual taxonomy,
but conducive to the disruption of ‘dichotomous classifications’ pervasive in
sexology.[5]
Against the backdrop of Kinsey’s clearly formulated stance, Herdt’s depiction
of the sexologist as a ‘unerring dimorphic thinker’ evinces itself as groundless.
Despite the ongoing questioning of the
male/female divide throughout the humanities and social sciences, anthropology
has evinced little interest in exploring and assessing Kinsey’s subversive
outlook and findings. Disinclined to undertake close readings of Kinsey’s
biological, entomological, and sexological writings, his few commentators and
critics within the discipline have mostly overlooked the critical potency
inherent in the postulation of a natural sexual continuum as opposed to the
clear-cut distributional schemes of binomial sexuality. As though sensing the
need to guard against such possible misprisions, Kinsey stressed in the Male
volume that ‘reality is a continuum’ (Kinsey 1948: 647), that ‘the continuum
[…] is the reality in nature’ (Kinsey 1948: 656). Moreover, on the assumption
that ‘only the human mind invents categories and tries to force facts into
separated pigeon – holes,’ Kinsey refers to the living world as ‘a continuum in
each and every one of its aspects’ (Kinsey 1948: 639). Although the following Female volume was no less critical of
the tendency of ‘the human mind [...] to dichotomize in its classification of
phenomena’ (Kinsey 1998: 469), Kinsey conceded that, at times, pragmatic
considerations make it necessary to implement dichotomous schemes. Elaborating
in a significant passage on physiological and psychological distinctions,
Kinsey asserts that such ‘distinctions can never be sharp, and they probably do
not represent reality; but they are convenient distinctions to make,
particularly in regard of human behavior’ (Kinsey 1998: 642). Thus, despite his
general scepticism vis-à-vis categorial compartmentations and his insistence on
their artificial character,[6]
Kinsey eventually recurs to such disjunctive conveniences at decisive junctures
of his sexology. In this regard, the most prominent locus is obviously the
ur-binomial to which the very titles of the sex Reports appeal: that between Male
and Female. Given the radical consequences of criticizing ‘the tendency
to categorize sexual activities under only two heads, and [the] failure to
recognize the endless gradations that actually exist’ (Kinsey 1948: 650),
Kinsey seems to have no more cogent explanation or justification to offer for
reverting to the old sexual binary than the constraint to organize new
knowledge utilizing historically predetermined, and thus lastly inadequate
instrumentalities. Since Kinsey never recanted his views on the pervasiveness
of natural continuity, the groundwork of his sexology is marked by a tensional
field whose resolution would necessitate the thorough dismantlement of the
binomial divide that constellates the two sex Reports. While the scope of this
self/deconstructive task is clearly beyond the argumentative deployments of
Kinsey’s published work, his incipient articulation of the problem is
sufficient to convey what Paul Robinson terms Kinsey’s ‘extreme nominalist
position’ (Robinson 1977: 68) and James Jones his ‘radical antiessentialism’
(Jones 1997: 531).
6. A NEW DISTRIBUTIONAL SCHEME OF BEHAVIORAL SEXUALITY
The parallel chapters of the sex Reports titled
‘The Heterosexual-Homosexual Balance’ (see Kinsey 1948: 636-55; Kinsey 1998:
468-76) comprise what can be considered the epistemic core of Kinsey’s views on
behavioural sexual difference. Discussing the relation between the sexual
continuum and its possible partitions, Kinsey points out in the corresponding
chapter of the Male volume:
While emphasizing the
continuity of the gradations between the exclusively heterosexual and
exclusively homosexual histories [i.e. the empirical sources of the Report], it
has seemed desirable to develop some sort of classification which could be
based on the relative amounts of heterosexual and of homosexual experience or
response in each history (1948: 639).
The resulting classificatory scale based on both
psychological reactions and overt experience includes seven gradations depicted
as follows:
0 = Exclusively
heterosexual with no homosexual. 1 = Predominantly heterosexual, only
incidentally homosexual. 2 = Predominantly heterosexual, but more than
incidentally homosexual. 3 = Equally heterosexual and homosexual. 4 =
Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual. 5 = Predominantly
homosexual, but incidentally heterosexual. 6 = Exclusively homosexual (ibid.:
638).
Although the basic seven-fold partition[7]
has the advantage of differentiation and nuance over the merely binomial sexual
distribution, Kinsey does not ignore the inadequacies of his own alternative
scheme when applied to the concrete diversity of individuals. On the contrary,
he unequivocally relativizes its merits in a pregnant passage of the Female volume:
While the scale
provides seven categories, it should be recognized that the reality includes
individuals of every intermediate type, lying in a continuum between the two
extremes and between each and every category on the scale (Kinsey 1998: 471).[8]
In light of Kinsey’s distributional paradigm,
both the postulation of ‘merely two types of individuals, heterosexual and
homosexual,’ and ‘the characterization of the homosexual as a third sex’
(Kinsey 1948: 647) lose whatever theoretical forcibleness they might have had
in the past. Since, moreover, no categorial compartmentation can do justice to
the profusion of sexual varieties in the continuum Kinsey’s new scale does not
pretend to be a definitive substitute for the binomial scheme, but only a
heuristic – and thus lastly provisory – improvement. While superseding the
behavioural sexual binary by offering a more differentiated pattern (see Kinsey
1948: 642) for tackling the complexities of concrete sexualities, Kinsey’s
seven-fold scheme is ultimately designed to efface itself in the face of the
individual.
7. TAXONOMY AND INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENCES
In view of Herdt’s objections against the
dimorphic patterns Kinsey allegedly inherited from nineteenth-century zoology,
it seems appropriate to recall that the sexologist considered having attained
his decisive deconstructive insights not despite his taxonomical outlook as a
biologist, but thanks to it. As the leading expert of his generation in the
hymenoptera family of Cynipidae, Kinsey assumed from early on the standpoint
that the infinite re-combination of the biological traits in any given species
renders possible the emergence of radically unique individuals. Thus, in
correspondence with the seminal ideas expressed in his Phi Beta Kappa address
(see Kinsey 1971a: 5), Kinsey declared in the Male volume that ‘the technique of this research has been
taxonomic’ (Kinsey 1948: 16). Moreover, he remarked that his reiterations
concerning variation and variability (see Kinsey 1948: 21, 195, 203, 209, 506,
515, 521, 533, 537, 582) were designed to reinforce the ‘most important fact’
of individual difference, in accordance with his ground contention that
[…] modern taxonomy
is the product of an increasing awareness among biologists of the uniqueness of
individuals, and of the wide range of variation which may occur in any population
of individuals (ibid.: 17).
Even fifteen years after the 1939 address,
Kinsey insisted on his basic insights regarding individual difference in a
brief passage included in the Female
report under the heading ‘The Combination of Variables’ that runs:
The sexual history of
each individual represents a unique combination of these variables [ranging
from the incidences and frequencies of erotic response to the sources of sexual
outlet.] There is little chance that such a combination has ever existed before,
or ever will exist again. We have never found any individual who was a
composite of all of the averages on all of the aspects of sexual response and
overt activity which we have analyzed in the present volume. This is the most
important fact which we can report on the sexual histories of the females who
have contributed to the present study (1998: 543).
By assuming ‘[…] that the phenomenon of
variability is universal in the living world’ (Kinsey 1971a: 7), and that ‘[…]
individual variation […] is the most persistent reality in human sexual
behavior’ (Kinsey 1998: 538), Kinsey was setting forth the coordinates of a new
conception of sexual difference beyond the male/female dichotomy and its ad hoc
supplements. Since re vera only individuals constitute warranted
excisions within the sexual continuum, their subsumption under any
predetermined, finite set of sexual categories can claim at most the status of
purposive provisionalness.
If continuity is – as Kinsey contends –
pervasive in nature, then sexuality in all its descriptive layers counters the
male/female dichotomy that dominates Western thought and the sexology it has
brought about. Given the Reports’ programmatic concentration on the behavioural
layer, however, the thorough dissolution of the many-layered sexual disjunction
was bound to remain, in the last resort, out of their reach. It is thus first
and foremost for reasons of method that Kinsey circumscribed his critical task
to the disruption of the exclusive heterosexual/homosexual combinatories of
individuals subsumed under the male/female dichotomy. In his arguments against
the ‘[…] all-or-none proposition, as heterosexuality and homosexuality have
ordinarily been taken to be’ (1948: 661), Kinsey underscores that ‘[…] there is
every gradation between complete homosexuality and complete heterosexuality’
(ibid.: 664), whereby these gradations are not designed to serve as ‘marker[s]
of identity’ (Jones 1997: 530) of human beings. Critiquing the unwarranted
subsumption of individuals under categorial schemes, Kinsey points out in the Male volume:
It would encourage
clearer thinking on these matters if persons were not characterized as
heterosexual or homosexual, but as individuals who have had certain amounts of
heterosexual experience and certain amounts of homosexual experience. Instead
of using these terms as substantives which stand for persons, or even as
adjectives to describe persons, they may better be used to describe the nature
of the overt sexual relations, or of the stimuli to which an individual
erotically responds (1948: 617).
Accordingly, Kinsey asserts in the Female
volume that terms such as masturbatory, heterosexual or homosexual ‘[…] are of
value only because they describe the source of the sexual stimulation, and they
should not be taken as descriptions of the individuals who respond to the
various stimuli’ (1998: 447). On these premises, the term homosexual, for
instance, is used throughout the volume ‘primarily to describe relationships, and [...] not [...] to
describe individuals who were
involved in those relationships’ (Kinsey 1998: 447; italics in the original).
By restricting the use of the term ‘the homosexual’ (or, alternatively, ‘the
heterosexual’) to designate either a specific component in the sexual history
of individuals or a determinate factor in their erotic constitution (see Kinsey
1948: 261, 396, 397, 617, 657),[9]
Kinsey detached the individual from the constrictions of categorizations, and
therewith paved the way for his key contention regarding the ‘omniphile’
(Condon 2004: ‘88.’),[10]
polymorphous sexuality of all human beings. Hinting at his principled critique
of sexual repression through culture, Kinsey wittily remarked in this
connection:
Considering
the physiology of sexual response and the mammalian backgrounds of human behaviour, it is not so difficult
to explain why a human animal does a particular thing sexually. It is more difficult to explain why each and
every individual is not involved in every
type of sexual activity (Kinsey 1998: 451).
Given the scarcity of close readings of Kinsey’s
main theoretical articulations, it is not surprising that hardly any critical
attention has been paid to the methodological circumscription of his research
and the resulting theoretical shortcomings in his treatment of non-behavioural
sexual continuities. Despite his innovative application of taxonomical insights
to the study of human sexuality and his acknowledgement of the continuity
inherent in all its descriptive layers, Kinsey did not envisage the
dismantlement of the binary conception of the pre- and para-behavioural sexual
layers that contribute to the configuration of the individual’s sexual
ethology. Notwithstanding the overall anti-dualistic thrust of his sexology,
Kinsey barely reflected on the male/female disjunction referred to in the very
titles of the two sex Reports, and apparently never considered dealing with the
issue in the books he planned to work on after the publication of the Female
volume (see Kinsey 1948: 7; Pomeroy 1971: 445-48). Even when reviewing the
history of sexology, Kinsey was keen to highlight earlier treatments of
behavioural continuity, but easily overlooked previous efforts – especially
those of Magnus Hirschfeld (see Bauer 2002, 2006a, 2006b) – to challenge the
binomial distribution of somatic sexuality.[11]
Kinsey’s inadequate account of the biologic complexities that underlie sexual
behaviour is most conspicuous, when, in a discussion of the term ‘bisexual,’ he
contents himself with the imprecise – and thus misleading – assertion that
there is no correlation between the bisexual behaviour of individuals and the
occurrence of ‘both masculine and feminine qualities within their single
bodies’ (1948: 657). Unwilling to question systematically the dichotomies of
corporeal sexuality, Kinsey was not in a position to elucidate the problematic links between his
hypothetization of clear-cut male and female objects of sexual response, on the
one hand, and the postulation of behavioural gradations that bridge the
allegedly dichotomous sexes, on the other. Since Kinsey never explored in depth
the bio-sexual variability he assumed in principle, he tended to revert to
dichotomous assumptions that allowed him to depict the continuous diversity of
sexual behaviours as expansible combinatories of two mutually exclusive somatic
sexes.
Notwithstanding the deficiencies and ambiguities
in his treatment of the bio-sexual continuum, Kinsey provided specific facts
and arguments clearly designed to undermine the binomial divide of corporeal
sexuality. In this respect, his elaborations on female sexuality are especially
relevant. While contending that the female cannot maintain her arousal without
physical stimulation, and that therefore her response to psychosexual stimuli
differs from that of the male (see Kinsey 1998: 688),[12]
Kinsey asserted that men and women ‘are alike in their basic anatomy and
physiology’ (ibid. 1998: 641). He underscored furthermore that ‘the anatomic
structures which are most essential to sexual response and orgasm are nearly
identical in the human female and male’ (ibid. 1998: 593). As regards their few
ascertainable differences, Kinsey maintained that these ‘are associated with
the different functions of the sexes in reproductive processes, but they are of
no great significance in the origins and development of sexual response and
orgasm’ (ibid.). Anticipating this strand of argument, Kinsey had already drawn
attention in an earlier passage of the Female volume to the fact that
‘[t]he embryonic phallus becomes the penis of the male or the clitoris of the
female’ (ibid.: 572). More importantly, he reminds his readers that ‘the
clitoris [...] is the phallus of the female’ (ibid.: 574), and goes on to
mention speculations on the sexual response of a ‘female who had a phallus as large as the average penis’ (ibid.: 573; emphasis
added). Kinsey’s striking depiction of
the clitoris of an adult woman as a female phallus contrasting
with the male penis, as well as his memorable dismantlement of the
Freudian postulation of a non-clitoral, vaginal orgasm (see Kinsey 1998:
582-84)[13]
reflect his grasp of morphologic and physiologic homologies between the allegedly
binomial sexes as tokens of the biological male/female continuum,[14]
whose critical implications, however, he counterproductively neglected at
decisive junctures of his sexology.Against this backdrop, it is no
wonder that Kinsey – despite his pregnant clues concerning sexual continuities
– failed to conclude from his own premises that the so-called physical
intersexes do not constitute mere exceptions to the traditional
sexual-distributional binary, but reveal ad oculos the need of its
definitive supersedure. Instead of drawing upon his collected case histories to
reinforce a thorough deconstruction of the binary conception of the
pre-behavioural layers of sexuality, Kinsey mostly operated with a binomial
scheme of somatic sexuality that underlies the sexual variability of the
‘psyche’ and its ascertainable responses and behaviour.
Not assuming the challenge posed by his own
postulation of the natural continuum of sexuality, Kinsey went at times beyond
the mere heuristic use of dichotomous ‘conveniences,’ and actually fell back on
binomial sexual conceptualizations not only in salient passages of his two
Reports. Demonstrably, he also resorted to dichotomous schemes when providing
private advice concerning sex change surgery. In a letter addressed to a
prospective transsexual in 1951 Kinsey wrote: ‘A male cannot be transformed
into a female through any known surgical means. In other words, it would be
very hopeless to attempt to amputate your male organs and implant a vagina,’
adding: ‘We humans are either heterosexual or homosexual’ (quoted in Jones
1997: 622). Contradicting his own ground premises, Kinsey’s advice not only
leaves unquestioned the male/female and heterosexual/homosexual binaries, but
seems to re-invest them with their validity of old. As though he had never
postulated the sexual polymorphousness of all human beings, the gradations in
sexual response, and the distinction between sexual acts and individual, Kinsey
argues within a clearly disjunctive framework of other-sex and a same-sex
hypostatized combinatories, and implicitly reduces the transsexual problem at
stake to an issue of mere sexual attraction or orientation. Thus, his further
advice reads:
There is no disgrace
to being in the latter category [of homosexuals] and a great many important
successful people have been homosexual. If you cannot adapt yourself to a
heterosexual existence in which you adopt the role of a male, I would certainly
advise you to go to London and to find a homosexual colony [...]. Fighting the
problem, hoping for physical transformation is certainly not a satisfactory
solution (quoted in Jones 1997: 622)[15]
Some years later, in 1955, Kinsey counselled an
American soldier who was also considering a sex change operation. According to
Jones, ‘Kinsey advised against it [...]. No operation, he insisted, could make
a man into a woman’ (1997: 622).[16]
This second case is all the more relevant for it reveals Kinsey’s unchanged
stance on the transsexual issue, even after having met and extensively
interviewed two years before, in 1953, Christine (formerly George) Jorgensen,
an ex-GI who had had in Copenhagen one of the earliest successful sex-change
operations on record (see Gathorne-Hardy 1999: 391-92; Bullough 1994: 217-21).
Despite remembering warmly her encounter with Kinsey in Bloomington, she wrote
in her autobiography that he ‘[…] left [her] with the impression that he
believed his books on sexual behavior were the definitive ones, and there was
not much left to be said on the subject’ (Jorgensen 1968: 202). Apparently,
Kinsey’s principled contentions regarding sexual individuality and the
continuum of sexuality played no role in their exchanges, for not even the
bio-psychological and biographical complexities of the very forthcoming Christine
Jorgensen sufficed to move Kinsey to disavow the sexual disjunctions that the
most critically radical passages of the two sex Reports had set out to debunk.
Kinsey’s lack of understanding for the specific
quandaries of transsexual individuals is all the more striking since the major
impact he achieved on Western intellectual history and mores ensued from the
incontrovertible ascertainment of sexual diversity based on the case histories of
thousands of individuals he and his collaborators had interviewed since 1938.
Widely acknowledged as ‘Kinsey’s most brilliant creation’ (Robinson 1977: 44),
the interview was a highly sophisticated and adaptable method designed to
obtain all sexual information available to the memory of the interviewee in an
average of two hours.[17]
While Kinsey had set himself as goal to collect 100,000 sexual histories, he
actually never got even near that number.[18]
Of the 18,000 individual histories taken over a period of eighteen years,
Kinsey secured approximately 8,000, and his three associates Wardell Pomeroy,
Clyde Martin, and Paul Gebhard were responsible for the remainder (see Pomeroy
1972: 4, 137). Of all the interviewees, the most memorable seems to have been a
sixty-three years old man – ‘[…] quiet, soft-spoken, self-effacing – a rather
unobtrusive fellow’ (Pomeroy 1972: 122) – whose history took Kinsey and Pomeroy
seventeen hours to get. As Pomeroy records,
[…] this man had had
homosexual relations with 600 preadolescent males, heterosexual relations with
600 preadolescent females, intercourse with countless adults of both sexes,
with animals of many species, and besides had employed elaborate techniques of
masturbation. He had set down a family tree going back to his grandparents, and
of thirty-three family members he had had sexual contacts with seventeen. His
grandmother introduced him to heterosexual intercourse, and his first
homosexual experience was with his father (1972: 122).
Among the staggering sexual proficiencies of
this interviewee was his ability ‘[…] to masturbate to ejaculation in ten
seconds from a flaccid start’ (Pomeroy 1972: 122), an ability which he calmly
demonstrated to the interviewers to counter their disbelief.[19]
Apart from the data based on personal histories and covering all imaginable
varieties of sexual behaviour, Kinsey gathered information coming from sources
as diverse as sexual calendars and diaries, photographic collections, toilet
wall inscriptions, sado-masochistic materials and mammalian studies (see Kinsey
1948: 73-4; Kinsey 1998: 83-97). Given that the sex Reports were based on the
statistical analysis, systematization and correlation of a profusion of data,
their relevancy lay primarily – as Cornelia Christenson has pointed out – ‘[…]
in the fact that science for the first time had been provided with a wide,
systematic, and detailed body of knowledge on human sex activity’ (1971:125).
From then on, the disquieting fact could no longer be obviated that sexology –
differing from historical religions and traditional morality – has no
reassurances to offer as to what is sexually normal or abnormal behaviour. For
this reason and in view of his pleas for sexual tolerance, it seems appropriate
to underscore that Kinsey’s theoretical instrumentalities fell short of
grasping and assessing the alterations effectuated by medical and aesthetic
technologies of the body on the purportedly naturally given sex. Disregarding
the old Aristotelian insight into the ways in which surpasses itself in and through , Kinsey
seems to have been at a loss for an adequate response to the challenges posed
by the emergence of the transsexual phenomenon.[20]
In assessing the results of the two Reports, it
is indispensable to keep in mind Kinsey’s own caveats regarding the scope and
limits of his statistical findings. In the Male
volume, for instance, he asserts that the calculations presented ‘should be
taken as approximations which are not to be pushed in detail’ (1948: 119) and
that
[…] one needs to be
continuously conscious [...] that it is impossible to get more than
approximations of the fact on the incidences and frequencies of the various
types of human sexual behavior (ibid.: 120).
Kinsey’s relativizing approach of his own
statistical results was intended not only as a warning to ‘the statistically
inexperienced reader’ (1948: 153), but also as a general reminder that the
function of population analysis is not to establish paradigmatic models of
sexual behaviour, but ‘[…] to help in the understanding of particular
individuals by showing their relation to the remainder of the group’
(ibid.: 20; bold type in the original). On these assumptions, showing
‘statistical sense’ meant for Kinsey having the ‘capacity to distinguish the
specific from the universal and to recognize the difference between a
phenomenon which is common and one which is rare’ (ibid.: 21). Although Kinsey
did not discuss philosophical subtleties regarding the status of the individual
in the kind of statistical research he pursued, he unequivocally affirmed that
the statistical averages of sexual behaviour in the Reports were not designed
to underpin or consolidate any given criteria of individual conduct, but rather
to depict the common traits of social groups in order to determine the specific
variance of their individual members. Given that the sexual designations
applied to them ‘can, in any objective analysis, refer to nothing more than a
position on a curve which is continuous’ (1948: 199), the sexual frequencies of
an individual differ only in ‘a slight degree from the frequencies of those
placed next on the curve’ (ibid.). Due to this continuity, sexology has no
means of determining whether specific sexual acts or sexual responses are
‘natural’ or ‘unnatural,’ ‘normal’ or ‘abnormal’ (see Kinsey 1948: 199-201).
Well aware that ‘[…] too often the study of behavior has been little more than
a rationalization of the mores masquerading under the guise of objective
science’ (1948: 203), Kinsey rejects on principle any moralistic or theological
encroachments on sexological terminology, and opts for the sober depiction of
individuals as being only ‘[…] frequent or rare, [...] conformists or
non-conformists with the socially pretended custom’ (Kinsey 1948: 203). On this
issue, the ‘Kinsey’ in Bill Condon’s film script offers the perspicacious
comment:
Why are some cows
highly sexed, while / others just stand there? Why do some / men need thirty
orgasms a week, and / others almost none? Because everyone / is different. The
problem is, most / people want to be the same (2004: "55.").
Regardless of the theoretical deficiencies that
Kinsey’s work may evince, they do not invalidate his insights into the
‘unlimited nonidentity’ (Kinsey 1971a: 5) of life as the actual bedrock of his
path-breaking deconstructive endeavours in sexualibus.
While categories of sexual difference/s have
been implemented throughout history as a cohesive criterion to configure closed
sexual groups and classes, Kinsey underscores – in correspondence to his
taxonomic views – that sexual difference is first and foremost a marker of
individuals occupying a unique position in the continuous scale of life. Since,
on principle, the concrete sexual behaviour of any given individual results
from its double share in the hetero/homosexual poles of the continuum, it does
not differ in quality from the sexual behaviour of any other individual, but
only in the proportion in which the sexual poles combine. On this account, the
possible segments that partition the continuity of the sexual should not be
regarded as emanating from a pre-existing natural order (and even less so from
a divine design), but as the outcome of more or less arbitrary societal constructions
and constrictions. As the many topical elaborations and extensive
bibliographies of both Reports show, Kinsey supplemented his depictions of
pre-human, zoological sexuality with anthropological and historical insights,
in order to provide a broad basis for critiquing and relativizing the sexual
paradigms and standards prevalent in the puritanical cultural setting that the
Reports reflect and unsettle. Accordingly, the main protagonist in T.C. Boyle’s
novel The Inner Circle appositely
attributes to ‘Kinsey’ a fundamental critique of culture purporting
[…] that man in a
state of nature is pansexual, and that only the strictures of society,
especially societies under the dominion of the Judeo – Christian and Mohammedan
codes, prevent people from expressing their needs and desires openly [...]
(2004: 38).
Since it is ‘[…] only convention [...] that kept
[man] from expressing himself with any partner that came along, of whatever sex
or species’ (Boyle 2004: 355), the partially biographic novel stresses that for
Kinsey ‘[…] religion was antithetical to science. The religious simply couldn’t
face the facts’ (ibid.: 499). These assertions echo adroitly the views of the
historical Kinsey when he maintained that sex is ‘[…] a normal biologic
function, acceptable in whatever form it is manifested’ (Kinsey 1948: 263).
Consequently, Kinsey pleaded – as James Jones has underlined – ‘[…] for an end
to hypocrisy and for a new ethics of tolerance’ (Jones 1997: 772), implicating
therewith a standard of human decency that provoked the indignation of
so-called Judeo-Christian preachers and pamphleteers. Sustained by his somewhat
cliché conviction that ‘nature will triumph over morals’ (Kinsey 1948: 385),[21]
Kinsey contended that the adequate perception and understanding of the ‘facts’
of natural sexuality would help overcoming the unethical intolerance based on
ignorance that tinges the very foundations of human sociability. Recognizing
that the meagerly available sexual knowledge has been massively repressed or
disregarded in Western culture in the name of conventional moralism, Kinsey
avoided adducing moral arguments in his pleas for sexual tolerance. Basically,
he sufficed himself with drawing attention to the fact that the concept of
sexual normalcy is the outcome of arbitrary moral evaluations without
biological warrant, and that the categorization of certain forms of sexual
behaviour as perversions only reflects the ‘[…] disparity between the basic
biologic heritage of the human animal, and the traditional, cultural codes’
(Kinsey 1949: 32). On these premises, Kinsey could concur with Sigmund Freud’s
diagnosis of a pervasive maladjustment between the individual and society,
while taking a distinct anti-Freudian stance in his castigation of the subdual
of the individual to the extraneous mechanisms of cultural teleologies.
15. "OUR CENTRAL ENEMY"
As Jonathan Gathorne-Hardy pertinently notes,
‘[…] “philosophically” was a term of abuse in Kinsey’s vocabulary’ (1999: 115).
In the Female volume, for instance, he recurs to the expression
‘man-made philosophy’ when depicting the totally unwarranted belief ‘[…] that
infra-human mammals more or less confine themselves to heterosexual activities’
(Kinsey 1998: 448). Moreover, since Kinsey assumed that ‘[…] we operate under a
system of sex law which is basically the Talmudic Code of the seventh century
B.C.’ (1971b: 215), he also uses the term ‘philosophy’ to designate religious weltanschauungs in phrases such as ‘the
religious philosophy of the authors of the Old Testament’ (1948: 415), ‘the
sexual philosophy of the Jews’ (ibid.: 473), ‘the pervading asceticism of
Hebrew philosophy’ (ibid.: 486), or ‘Jewish and […] Christian philosophies’
(ibid.: 563).[22] In a
telling passage typifying the existent approaches of sexuality, Kinsey –
broadening the application of the term – remarks that ‘[…] in social and
religious philosophies, there have been two antagonistic interpretations of
sex’ (ibid.: 263). After dealing with the contrast between the hedonistic
approach to sexual pleasure and the Judeo-Christian legitimization of sexuality
through procreative finality, Kinsey – without referring to ‘philosophy’
anymore – elaborates on a third possible interpretation of sex as a normal
biological function advocated, among others, by Sigmund Freud, to whom Kinsey
pays tribute for having ‘[…] contributed more than the biologists toward an
adoption of this biologic viewpoint’ (ibid.). Although he rejected creedal
systems and the ideologies of intolerant sociability they brought about, Kinsey
reportedly preferred to keep his devastating views on religion to himself (see
Pomeroy 1972: 114). Notwithstanding Kinsey’s personal reserve in this
connection, his reply to Wardell Pomeroy’s question as to whether he believed
in God was a peremptory: ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not’ (1972: 29).
Concerning the related issue of life after death, Kinsey held similarly
opinionated views: ‘I believe that when you’re dead, you’re dead, and that’s
all there is’ (quoted in Pomeroy 1972: 29). Despite the atheistic naturalism he
adhered to, Kinsey regarded religion as an essential factor in the sexual lives
of most people. In accordance with his assumption ‘[…] that there is nothing in
the English-American social structure which has had more influence upon
present-day patterns of sexual behavior than the religious backgrounds of that
culture’ (1948: 465), Kinsey relates throughout the Male and Female
volumes the different types of sexual activities to the three faiths that
‘embrace most of those Americans who recognize any church affiliation’ (ibid.:
468): Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish. Against his backdrop and in
consideration of the critical edge that marks his sexological program as a
whole, it is no wonder that Kinsey deemed ‘the whole army of religion’ to be ‘our
central enemy’ (quoted in Wolfe 2004: 35).
Differing from the 19th century
radical utopian Charles Fourier as well as from Wilhelm Reich, the
post-Freudian denier of Thanatos, the adult Kinsey was too much of a
Darwinian to consider the possibility of an erotic drive unchecked by
insurmountable finitude. In this respect and despite his strong
anti-psychoanalytical bias, Kinsey shows affinities to Sigmund Freud’s sober
elaborations on the life and death drives. Far from assuming that sexuality and
eroticism could be conducive to a form of universal harmony transcending
mortality, Kinsey was clear in his convictions regarding the definitiveness of
death. Regardless of his renunciation to the comforts of a godly design and an
immortal soul, however, some pregnant passages in his writings are indicative
of a marked sense of awe towards Life and Nature. Contrasting with the
speculative Weltanschauung
characteristic of New England transcendentalism, Kinsey’s brief apercus in this
regard convey a sovereign disinterest in accessing hidden layers of the real,
or in attaining personal integration into cosmic totality. At the same time,
they suggest a quasi-quietistic apprehension of the ambit that Karl Jaspers
termed das Umgreifende (1958: 47-222; 1963: 111-51).[23] Given
that all of Kinsey’s major biographers suffice themselves with
commenting on his allegations of atheism, but offer no close examination of the
subtleties implied by his sense of the Encompassing, it is all the more
significant that in one of the early scenes of Bill Condon’s film script, Kinsey, recalling his youthful discovery
of the natural world, remarks: ‘Yes, biology. The science of life. / The fields
and the woods became my new / place of worship. My cathedral’ (2004: ‘5.’-‘6.’).
Insisting on the sexologist’s post-religious sensibility, the script locates
the closing scene of the film in the Californian Muir Woods, specifying:
‘Kinsey glances around, his powers of observation as keen as ever. Some deer.
An owl. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, as close to reverence as we
have seen him’ (2004: ‘107.’). Interestingly enough, these and other
fictionalized elements of biography in the film resonate with Kinsey’s
scattered observations on Nature, such as those comprised in An Introduction to Biology, his first
book-length publication. In a passage facing a picture of the California
Redwoods, for instance, Kinsey remarks propaedeutically: ‘It seems an immortal thing, this life which we are
about to study’ (Kinsey 1926: 6; bold type in the original). Shortly after he
exclaims: ‘Common as life is about
us, it is apparently an uncommon thing
in the universe as a whole. What fortune that we own a share of it!’ (Kinsey
1926: 6; bold type in the original). Much later in the book, Kinsey reiterates
his praise of Nature, advising his young readers: ‘Look about you, and see what
an interesting world you are in. Be glad
that you are alive in it!’ (ibid.: 161; bold type in the original).
Although the Male and Female volumes hardly give any hints of the
reverential aspects of the sexologist’s attitude toward Nature, it is apposite
to recall that in his ‘Last Statement’ – a pregnant document on his life as a
sexual researcher written in his deathbed – Kinsey mentions an incident during his
1954 trip to South America that is apt to throw some light on the issue under
discussion. The brief depiction runs:
The Franciscan friar
whom I meet on the mountain trail in Peru looks at me with puzzlement for a
time and then says, ‘Ah, es el señor Doctor Kinsey, no?’ Then he wants to know
why we are doing this research, and when I reply, ‘Porque padre, es una parte
de la vida’ – ‘because, father, it is a part of life’ – he instantly responds,
‘Sí, es una parte de la vida.’ And for the rest of the mountain journey we are
good friends (1971b: 225-26).
The harmonious encounter with the mendicant
friar must have been for the sexologist all the more significant, as Protestant
circles in America had been especially harsh in their rejection of his Reports.
Symptomatically, shortly after the publication of the Female volume, the
evangelist Billy Graham preached a sermon to a nationwide radio audience
denigrating Kinsey’s work. In a newspaper article titled ‘Graham Sermon Blasts
Dr. Kinsey,’ an anonymous journalist reported that the sermon ‘[…] proved so
popular the public already has requested 50,000 reprints and additional
thousands of requests are pouring in daily to the Billy Graham Evangelic
association headquarters’ (Anonymous 2004: 125). In the published transcript,
Graham makes clear from the outset his basic objection: ‘It is impossible to
estimate the damage this book will do to the already deteriorating morals in
America’ (1953: 1). Assuming that ‘[…] immorality is rampant throughout the
[American] nation’ (ibid.: 4), Graham deplores that Kinsey’s ‘[…] report for
wholesale public consumption, appealing to the lower instincts of human nature,
is aggravating the situation’ (ibid.: 4). As the preacher conveys, Kinsey’s Female
volume is cause and consequence of America’s pervasive moral degeneration,
evinced, among other things, by the ‘acceptance with the American people’ of
‘behavioristic philosophies’. Giving clear indications of his rather poor
education, the evangelist contends that such philosophies are epitomized by
Friedrich Nietzsche, Sigmund Freud, and – of all people – Friedrich Ernst
Daniel Schleiermacher and the German theologians with their ‘subjective
theology’ (Graham 1953: 3). On the general premise that ‘humanism and
behaviorism’ have misled people to believe that ‘[…] salvation is to come
through man and not through Christ and morality is relative and not absolute’
(1953: 3), Graham considers the Female volume to be ‘[…] an indictment
against American womanhood’ (ibid.: 2), and dreads that ‘it will teach our
young people terrifying perversions they had never heard before’ (ibid.). While
Graham’s bilious attacks betray a deeply-felt disregard for epistemic and
philosophic issues in general, and for Kinsey’s actual contentions in
particular, Reinhold Niebuhr, one of the most reputed American theologians in
the twentieth century, offered the prime example of a more sophisticated
reaction within Protestants circles in his essay ‘Kinsey and the Moral Problem
of Man’s Sexual Life.’ Despite his acknowledgment of Kinsey’ scientific honesty
in collating his data (1954: 69), Niebuhr castigates not only ‘[…] the crude
physiological naturalism which governs [his] inquiry’ (ibid.), but also ‘[…]
the absurd hedonism which informs [his] thought’ (ibid.: 66). Rejecting on
principle the very structure and scope of Kinsey’s project, Niebuhr maintains
that the sexologist’s ‘[…] basic presupposition is that men and women face a
rather purely physiological problem in their sex life’ (ibid.: 63), and that
‘the infinite complexities of the human spirit are in fact unknown to Kinsey,
if they are above the level of refinements in erotic pleasure’ (ibid.: 66).
While Niebuhr is careful to underscore that he argues on behalf of a freedom
that ‘makes for the uniqueness of the individual’ (ibid.: 69), he consistently
overlooks that Kinsey’s methodological behaviourism serves the dismantlement of
the sexual dichotomizations that have been instrumental in stifling the
individual’s sexual freedom in all cultural settings where the spirit of
Christianity is pervasive. Evincing striking similarities with Margaret Mead’s
‘anthropological’ line of argument, Niebuhr dexterously disregards Kinsey’s
path-breaking attempt to grasp the individual’s sexual uniqueness, in order to
refer all the more freely to the liberalities of Christian love.[24]
Given the U.S. theo-political constellations, it
could not be expected that the attacks on Kinsey and his legacy would subside
with the passing of time. Sharply aware that ‘[…] no man in modern times has
shaped public attitudes to, and perceptions of, human sexuality more than the
late Alfred C. Kinsey’, Judith A. Reisman (1990: 1) has become the most vocal
of all his current critics and detractors. In books with titles such as Kinsey,
Sex and Fraud and Kinsey: Crimes and Consequences, she has spared no
pains to discredit the sexologist’s personal and academic reputation.
Tellingly, even the compilatory pamphlet based on Reisman’s work and published
by Susan Brinkmann – a journalist and member of the Secular Order of Discalced
Carmelites – follows without hesitation the denunciative design of its source,
as is already indicated in its title: The Kinsey Corruption (Brinkmann
2004). Reisman’s undiscerning approach of complex historical configurations is
especially apparent in her ideological invectives against twentieth-century
sexual critics who allegedly have had a devastating effect on the transmission
of sexual values. She surmises, for example, that
Were Kinsey [and]
Hirschfeld […] alive today (or for that matter, those of the Marxist ‘Frankfort
School’ including the USA college guru, Herbert Marcuse) they would no doubt be
delighted to find their model of sex education dominating the media, the arts,
and permeating most of our schools (2003: 289).
Early on, in her first book on Kinsey, Reisman
had already referred to his growing estrangement from religion while attending
college, highlighting that his readings on religion and culture eventually led
him ‘to be "indignant" about the effect of Judeo-Christian tradition
on society’ (1990: 6). Moreover, her elaborations suggest that she was
inordinately alarmed at the indications that Kinsey was not just trying to find
out what people were doing sexually, but ‘to provide a statistical base for a
new morality’ (1990: 197). Given that the so-called ‘Grand Scheme’ (see Reisman
1990: 197-214) that sustains Kinsey’s critical programmatic entails the
rejection of normative heterosexuality and the unsettlement of the traditional
sexual order, Reisman’s declared intention was to show that Kinsey’s research
is ideologically biased and methodologically flawed. For Reisman, the epistemic
of Kinsey’s pursuits resides in his core
premise that
[…] sexual
differences – in orientation – [are] simply points on a continuum, [that] the
differences [are] a matter of degree, as opposed to being differences that
could be defined as abnormalities or pathologies (1990: 203).
A champion of disjunctive exclusions, she deems
most reprehensible that ‘[…] Kinsey’s view of human sexuality involved a
continuum from heterosexual to homosexual’, and disapproves with sarcastic
understatement that ‘[…] he did not believe in distinct categories of sexuality
or in trying to force facts about behavior into ‘separate pigeon-holes’ (ibid.:
212). Facing what she considers to be the moral corrosiveness of Kinsey’s
ground assumptions, Reisman pleads for the consequent and immediate
re-investment of the binary conception of sexuality and normative
heterosexuality with the societal validity they have mostly lost. Although her
diatribes against the attempts ‘to undermine the Judeo-Christian concept of sin
and eliminate the distinction between right and wrong’ (ibid.: 214) are
strongly reminiscent of the platitudes with which Graham disguised his
disregard for critical knowledge, Reisman clearly recognizes in the idea of
sexual continuity the theoretical crux of Kinseyan sexology, and reveals
therewith having a more perceptive grasp of Kinsey’s ground contentions than
Graham and Niebuhr. In their critiques of Kinsey, neither of the Christian
theologians called as outspokenly for the re-instalment of the male/female
divide as Reisman does in her arduous expatiations. This is certainly not the
least of the reasons why her work is deemed ideally suited to serve as a
cornerstone of the ‘new evangelization’ (West 2004: 5), which – as the author
of the foreword of Brinkmann’s pamphlet suggests – is indissolubly linked to
the discovery of ‘[…] the glory of sex in the divine plan: God created us male
and female’ (ibid.: 4).
19. ANTHROPOLOGY,
HOMOSEXUALITY, AND SEXUAL DIFFERENCE
In correspondence with her overall views, Judith
Reisman is keen to condemn anthropology’s relativization of Western axiology,
especially as it seems to concur with Kinsey’s own critical pursuits.
Tellingly, Reisman maintains in her 1990 book that ‘[...] the Kinsey “grand
scheme” is just now finding its way to the cutting edge of the U.S.
government’s initiative against AIDS, with a little help from selective
anthropological data from primitive tribes’ (1990: 208). The origins of such
subversive anthropological aid can be traced back, according to Reisman, to
Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa (1928), a work that she
denigrates on account of its ‘[…] attack on conventional sexual mores’ and of
its ‘[…] efforts to find role models for an ideology’ of sexual dissidence
(ibid.: 212). In this context, Reisman offers further proof of her defamatory
strategies when she mentions that in a chapter of an AIDS report published by
the U.S. National Research Council, its lead author, former project director at
the Kinsey Institute John H. Gagnon, used as one of his sources Gilbert Herdt’s
book Ritualized Homosexuality in Melanesia (1984). As if arguments would
be unnecessary at this point, Reisman contents herself with the cautious
remark: ‘Herdt, it should be noted, is editor of the book Gay and Lesbian
Youth (Harrington Park Press, 1989), which suggests a specialized point of
view’ (Reisman 1990: 208). Moreover, to underpin her contentions concerning the
mutual impregnation of Kinsey-inspired sexual heterodoxy and anthropology,
Reisman reminds her readers that:
Psychologist and sex
researcher C.A. Tripp, a friend and colleague of the late Alfred Kinsey, wrote
in his 1975 book The Homosexual Matrix (McGraw-Hill) that anthropology
was one branch of science where homosexuals may be able to ‘extend the
parameters of [the] field’ (ibid.: 211; for the quote, see Tripp 1975: 276).
To judge by her elaborations in his regard,
Reisman seems to have sensed that the challenges posed by Kinsey’s homosexual
openings and their repercussions on anthropology are, as such, less formidable
than the disruptive scope of Kinsey’s ground positions. Thus, Reisman – like most Kinsey critics and
commentators – prudently avoids dealing in-depth with the tensional relation
between the sexologist’s insights into the formation and constitution of sexual
groups and segments, on the one hand,[25]
and his impassioned advocacy of sexual individuality, on the other. Although
Paul Robinson, for instance, is attentive to the import of Kinsey’s findings
for homosexual emancipation, he hardly addresses the critical implications of
envisaging, as Kinsey did, the radical liberation of individuals from the yoke
of sexual categorizations (see Robinson 1977: 67-71, 116-17). Having rejected
the idea that ‘we’re all bisexual’ as ‘fuzzy thinking’ (ibid.: 117), Robinson
tends to conflate sexual-political and strictly sexological contentions into
one argument, failing thereby to assess properly Kinsey’s radicalism in
redefining sexual difference as a matter of individual variation within the
sexual continuum. In view of the prevalent unwillingness to tackle the ultimate
design of Kinsey’s sexual programmatic, it is all the more significant that, in
the already cited interview, Bill Condon mentions having asked Clarence Tripp
what Kinsey would have made of the gay movement (Feld 2004: 224). Condon quotes
Tripp as having retorted: ‘Oh, he would have been horrified’ (ibid.). Shortly
afterward, Condon elaborates on Kinsey’s stance in this regard, stating,
He was shouting to
people: Be yourself! Break away from the group! So for him there’s no freedom
in defining yourself by your sexual acts. We live under the delusion that we’ve
come so far, but I think Kinsey would say that – while the group imposes
different expectations and demands today – the impulse to belong still
overwhelms our individual desires (ibid.).
On these assumptions, the alleged overcoming of
the sexual categorization of human beings for the sake of sexual acts granting
group appurtenance evinces itself as an insufficient move toward the liberation
of the categorially non-subsumable individual. To use a term already quoted,
the ‘mob’ (Feld 2004: 225) – even if purportedly emancipatory – obeys, in the
last resort, the logic of categorial reductions and therewith condones the
subdual of sexual uniqueness to an archetypical – i.e. non-existent –
commonality.
Since Kinsey’s contentions regarding natural
continuity and sexual individuality lead to the supersedure not only of
binomial sexuality, but of any distributional scheme operating with a closed
set of sexual categories, the number of sexualities becomes open-ended and
co-extensive with the number of sexed individuals. Ultimately, Kinsey’s line of
argument entails the radical de-finitization of sexualities, inasmuch as it
posits their potentially infinite variability as a condition for the emergence
of sexually unique individuals. From this perspective, Kinsey’s ground
assumptions converge with the basic postulates of Magnus Hirschfeld’s sexuelle
Zwischenstufenlehre (‘doctrine of sexual intermediary stages’) (see Bauer 2005a),
and anticipate the critical endeavours of post-modern queer thought to
dismantle age-old categorial fixtures deriving from unexamined subsumptive
procedures. Certainly not by chance, Gore Vidal, the renowned American writer
who met Kinsey as a young man and remained influenced by his sexual thought
throughout his life, asserts in his Collected Sex Writings,
The American passion
for categorizing has now managed to create two nonexistent categories – gay and
straight. Either you are one or you are the other. But since everyone is a
mixture of inclinations, the categories keep breaking down; and when they break
down, the irrational takes over. You have
to be one or the other (1999c: 116; emphasis in the original).
On these assumptions and given that the
straight/gay binary is to a large extent a contemporary variation of the
hetero/homosexual dichotomy,[26]
it is apparent that Vidal’s critique concurs with Kinsey’s unequivocal
dismissal of sexual identities. More importantly, in light of Vidal’s elaborations,
it becomes even more apparent that Kinsey would have rejected the current
identity politics propounded by the gay and lesbian movements, as C.A. Tripp
and Bill Condon have surmised. In view of Kinsey’s overall deconstructive
pursuits, it seems safe to assume that he could have wholeheartedly agreed with
William B. Turner when he states in A Genealogy of Queer Theory:
Queerness indicates
[…] the failure to fit precisely within a category, and surely all persons at
some time or other find themselves discomfited by the bounds of the categories
that ostensibly contain their identities (2000: 8).
On account of this kind of insights, there are
good reasons to expect that, if divested of its ‘gay’-identificatory bias,
queer theory will eventually contribute to a better grasp of the ‘unlimited
nonidentity’ that, according to Kinsey, is concretized in the irreducible
uniqueness of sexed individuals. Taken as ‘[…] a resistant relation rather than
as an oppositional substance’ (Halperin 1995: 113), ‘queerness’ seems apt to
help forward a conceptual framework in which Kinsey’s reference to the female
phallus loses its oxymoronic aura and becomes a pregnant clue to a symbolic
order beyond the opposition between female (vaginal) lack and male (penile)
plenitude. It is doubtless significant that post-Kinseyan radical feminists –
well aware of the phallic commonality inherent in the clitoris/penis continuum
– advocate the liberation of the female body from the mark of lack that (not
only) Western cultures have inscribed in the female genitals and therewith
contributed to the perception of the vagina as a ‘negative phallus’ (Laqueur
1992: 152).[27] As though
insisting on the reality (as opposed to the mere fantasy or metaphorization) of
a privileged phallic presence in the non-male body, Anne Koedt drew attention
to the fact that ‘[…] the clitoris has no other function than that of sexual
pleasure’ (1973: 202), and Monique Wittig, using an almost identical phrasing,
asserted that the clitoris is ‘[…] the only organ in the body to have pleasure
as its function’ (Wittig & Zeig 1980: 33).[28]
The shifts in sexual perspective that such ascertainments bring about
constitute powerful incentives to reassess the anticipatory valence inherent in
the remote human origins, when parts of the buccal-assimilatory organs
gradually became the physiological basis for the emergence of the - the
specifically human articulation of the voice. If those ‘origins’ can be taken
as a token of future patterns in the progressive humanization of the species,
the contemporary need to differentiate between the somatic basis of sexuality
and the related excretory-reproductive systems may well be marking the
inception of a phenomenon sui generis: the emergence of a
self-sustaining ambit of individual phallic aiming at overcoming the originary (and thus
primitive) male/female divide that has attempted – always anew, but lastly in
vain – to replicate the divide between Being and Nothingness (see Aristotle
1968: 34 [= Metaph. I.v.6. (986a22-27)]; Wittig 1992: 49-51). ‘Anthropo/logy’
being first and foremost a privileged locus where the Logos of the Human may
come to fruition, there seems to be no cogent reason for its ongoing disregard
of Alfred Kinsey, one of the few sexual thinkers capable of enhancing a new grasp
of the truth encapsulated in the etymology of ‘sex’: the ur-secession of the
individual from the alienatory abstractions of all-too human identities.
Aristotle.
1958. . In: Aristotelis Fragmenta Selecta. Recognovit
brevique adnotatione instruxit W.D. Ross. Oxonii e Typographeo Clarendoniano,
pp. 26-56.
Aristotle.
1968. The Metaphysics. Books I-IX. In: Aristotle in Twenty-three
Volumes. Volume XVII. With an English Translation by Hugh Tredennick.
Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press / London: William Heinemann
Ltd.
Bataille,
Georges. 1988. ‘La révolution sexuelle et le ‘‘Rapport Kinsey’’’ [1948]. In:
Georges Bataille, Œuvres complètes XI. Articles 1: 1944-1949. Paris:
Gallimard, pp. 339-360.
Bauer, J. Edgar.
1998/2003. ‘Der Tod Adams. Geschichtsphilosophische Thesen zur
Sexualemanzipation im Werk Magnus Hirschfelds.’ In: Manfred Herzer (ed.), 100
Jahre Schwulenbewegung. Dokumentation einer Vortragsreihe in der Akademie der
Künste. Berlin: Verlag rosa Winkel, pp. 15-45. / Reprint: Andreas Seeck
(ed.), Durch Wissenschaft zur Gerechtigkeit? Textsammlung zur kritischen
Rezeption des Schaffens von Magnus Hirschfeld. Münster, Hamburg &
London: Lit Verlag, pp. 133-55.
Bauer, J. Edgar.
2002. ‘"43 046 721 Sexualtypen." Anmerkungen zu Magnus Hirschfelds
Zwischenstufenlehre und der Unendlichkeit der Geschlechter.’ Capri.
Zeitschrift für schwule Geschichte 33: 23-30.
Bauer, J. Edgar. 2005a. ‘On the Nameless Love and Infinite
Sexualities: John Henry Mackay, Magnus Hirschfeld and the Origins of the Sexual
Emancipation Movement.’ Journal of Homosexuality 50(1): 1-26.
Bauer, J. Edgar. 2005b.
‘‘‘Mêmeté’’ and the Critique of Sexual Difference: On Monique Wittig’s
Deconstruction of the Symbolic Order and the Site of the Neuter.’ In: Arthur
and Marilouise Kroker (eds.), Ctheory: http://www.ctheory.net/articles.aspx?id=498.
Bauer, J. Edgar.
2005c. ‘A szexuális különbözoség, a thalasszális regresszió és a "nem
antropomorf animizmus" problémája Ferenczi Sándor muveiben.’ Thalassa
16(1): 3–24.
Bauer, J. Edgar. 2006a. ‘Gender and the Nemesis of Nature: On
Magnus Hirschfeld’s Deconstruction of the Sexual Binary and the Concept of
“Sexual Human Rights.” In: A. Hodžic and J. Postic (eds.), Two Is
Not Enough for Gender (E)quality. The Conference Collection. Zagreb:
CESI & Ženska soba, pp. 153-71.
Bauer, J. Edgar. 2006b. ‘Deconstruction and Liberation: On
Magnus Hirschfeld’s Universalization of Sexual Intermediariness and Racial
Hybridity.’ In: FOTIM [Foundation of Tertiary Institutions of the Northern
Metropolis, Johannesburg, South Africa] (ed.), Gender Studies Here and Now.
Johannesburg and Pretoria, South Africa: CD-ROM Format, ISBN 0-9584986-4-4.
Bauer, J. Edgar.
2007. ‘Magnus Hirschfeld: Sexualidentität und Geschichtsbewußtsein. Eine dritte
Klarstellung.’ Mitteilungen der Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft 37/38:
109-120.
Wittig, Monique. 2001. La
Pensée straight. Paris: Éditions Balland.