At first glance, it might seem like society has grown quieter about sex, retreating into a prudish shell. But look closer, and you’ll notice it is everywhere — subtly embedded in our conversations, media and cultural norms.
We are bombarded with sexualized imagery and innuendo, from the suggestive lyrics of pop songs to the provocative advertisements that plaster our city streets.
In his groundbreaking work The History of Sexuality Volume 1: An Introduction, Michel Foucault famously argued against the idea that sex had been repressed in modern society. Instead, he suggested that sex had become a subject of relentless discussion, hidden in plain sight, spoken of in controlled and calculated ways.
Today, his critique feels even more relevant — the more we think we are not talking about sex, the more pervasive its presence becomes in our lives.
Foucault’s “repressive hypothesis” challenged the prevailing notion that past societies simply suppressed discussions of sex. He argued that institutions like the church, the state and the medical establishment did not silence sex — they engineered how it was discussed.
They turned it into an object of analysis, confession and regulation, a tool for control and categorization. Sexuality became central to our identities and societal organization, a lens through which we were judged and categorized. This is strikingly relevant today, as we see similar forces at play.
While we may have shed some Victorian-era prudishness, new forms of regulation and control have emerged.
Social media feeds, movies, music and even memes are saturated with sexual references, yet we still somehow carry the illusion that sex is a private topic, relegated to hushed whispers and darkened bedrooms.
We cling to the notion that some things are still “too much to talk about,” even as we engage in a constant “discourse” about sex, albeit often indirectly.
Relationship talks inevitably touch on sexual dynamics, beauty standards are inextricably linked to sexual appeal and podcasts delve into matters of intimacy and desire.
Moreover, advancements in reproductive health, such as IVF, surrogacy and assisted reproductive technologies also open up new frontiers in conversations about sex. These are all manifestations of our ongoing conversation about sex, even when we do not explicitly acknowledge it as such.
In modern society, we witness a fascinating paradox.
On the one hand, there is an undeniable push for sex positivity and open conversations about previously taboo topics — 2SLGBTQIA+ rights, consent, female pleasure, sexual health and more. Where children were once shielded from such discussions, they are now deliberately being taught about healthy relationships, consent and body autonomy from a young age. This shift reflects a growing recognition of the importance of open communication and education in fostering healthy sexual attitudes and behaviours.
On the other hand, it appears certain discussions like BDSM and kink, sex work, sexual dysfunction, religion and sexuality often remain shrouded in silence and shame. These topics challenge societal norms, confront uncomfortable truths and acknowledge marginalized experiences, making them difficult to navigate in a culture that often prioritizes palatable narratives over complex realities.
For university students, this dynamic is especially relevant because of the opportunity to redefine this dialogue. Campuses often pride themselves on being spaces for intellectual exploration, yet certain topics still provoke discomfort and resistance. Discussions about hookup culture, body autonomy, sexual ethics and power dynamics can quickly reveal societal tensions and anxieties. So, as hubs of intellectual inquiry and social change, universities, especially, have a responsibility to foster an environment where these deeper conversations that often feel out of reach can flourish.
Foucault’s insights help explain why it seems we are only skirting around and not actually talking about sex. Our discourse about sex is not just about expression. It is about power.
By framing some aspects of sexuality as acceptable and others as deviant, or some as okay to discuss now and others as “not yet,” society shapes not only what we say but how we think. This dynamic is visible everywhere — from political debates about reproductive rights to casual gossip about someone’s dating life. We are always talking about sex, even when we pretend not to be.
Consider the ongoing controversies surrounding abortion access, where discussions about women’s bodies and reproductive choices are often veiled in moralistic language and political maneuvering. Or think about the way we consume celebrity gossip, eagerly dissecting the intimate details of their relationships and sexual exploits. These are all examples of how sex remains a constant undercurrent in our social and cultural landscape.
So, are we talking about sex more or less? The answer is both and neither.
The question is not whether we are talking about sex — it is how we are talking about it and what that says about us. For us, we must make it more inclusive, honest and thoughtful. What does our hidden obsession with sex reveal about our values, fears and desires? And how do we create a discourse that is truly free, one that embraces complexity, challenges norms and empowers individuals to explore their sexuality with agency and authenticity?
Perhaps it starts with naming the contradictions and being brave enough to address them. After all, sex is not going anywhere. The question is whether we are ready to talk about it — truly, openly and without reserve.
