HUMANITY HAS WITNESSED over the past thirty years two world-changing developments of epochal importance: the spread of the AIDS pandemic and the coming of the Internet. At its most severe, AIDS has changed the social, political, spiritual, and economic landscape of almost all of Africa, killing millions of people and destroying the lives of countless survivors, many of them children, while changing the demographics of whole societies. In about the same time frame, the Internet went from a localized curiosity to a worldwide, and world-shaking, phenomenon. A growing percentage of humanity now has access to the Internet and thus to an infinite amount of information on every imaginable topic. Communication among our species has never been easier than in virtual reality; distance and cultural barriers are increasingly irrelevant, and the possibilities for synergies—for the kinds of quantum leaps that human minds can make when they share ideas—has risen exponentially with the advent of the World Wide Web. (There’s also spam and viruses and the pernicious “virus” of capitalism that is turning this wonderful tool of exploration and investigation into a junkyard of billboards and ads for Viagra and opportunities to increase one’s penis size—but that’s another story.)
An entire on-line gay culture has blossomed in the last decade, and has transformed how gay and bisexual men meet one another. It’s as dramatic as the change gay culture experienced in the 1970’s when hidden-away gay clubs that were regularly raided by police morphed into openly gay bathhouses, bars, and discos that were hip, chic, clean—and unraided. The Internet has streamlined the whole pick-up and mating ritual. Men who in the past might have been too intimidated even to enter a gay bar—or, if they did, to accost someone and initiate a conversation—suddenly find that they can be bold and forthright in the pursuit of partners to satisfy needs both sexual and social. They can even approach men whom they would have thought beyond their reach—too young, too attractive, too successful, or whatever. The possibility of face-to-face rejection in bars or clubs has been lifted by the Internet. For many men, it has meant a kind of liberation from the anxiety of live cruising. Since on-line profiles explicitly state sexual desires and preferences, no longer does a man have to engage in idle chatter while trying to figure out what the sexy man with whom he’s been talking might like to do in bed. There was a time when men would wear handkerchiefs of various colors to signify what sexual activities they were into. Now the search engine enables men to communicate this information verbally—and to zero in on available men who share their sexual interests. Where there used to be gay bars specializing in various proclivities—muscles, youth, leather, BDSM, you name it—now there are chatrooms for myriad sexual preferences. What’s more, chatrooms have begun to replace gay bars and clubs as places to meet, mingle, and flirt. The appeal of the Internet for meeting people is its ability to cut through a lot of the small talk of real-world venues. In addition, the Internet allows users a high degree of anonymity, which is appealing to those who are not yet out, or who are just coming out, or who are questioning their sexual orientation. I remember years ago hearing patients talk about how they would repeatedly drive or walk past a gay bar trying to find the courage to go inside. Now, they can go to virtual gay community on-line from the safety of their homes. (And it’s not just emotional safety: gay bars have often been magnets for gay bashers. Also, it’s more likely that one could be “outed” at a gay bar.) In addition, the privacy afforded by the Internet enables men to explore their feelings about their same-sex attractions with others facing similar issues. GLBT youths are using the Internet to explore gay culture and community even if they don’t have access to a gay community where they live. They can join chatrooms or find on-line support groups that greatly mitigate their feelings of isolation. A decade ago, gay and lesbian hotlines were the main lifeline for these young people. Now, they can go to the library or log on at home to find moral support, answers to their questions, and social affirmation. As far back as a decade ago, when researchers started to look at this phenomenon among all groups (not just men seeking to have sex with men), researchers Al Cooper and Eric Griffin-Shelley identified the three most prevalent factors driving sexual contact on the Internet: accessibility, affordability, and anonymity. Other research suggests that there are two additional factors for gay men: acceptability and approximation. Acceptability refers to the belief that the Internet is an appropriate way for gay men to meet one another in person; approximation refers to a dynamic by which men who may be unsure of their sexual identity or who may not yet have come out publicly can “approximate” being gay by inventing a fictitious self, say, or by having virtual sex on the Internet. The Internet affords a safe space in which one can experiment with various sexual identities. It is perhaps not surprising, given the persistence of the closet in the real world, that gay men are more likely to use the Internet to meet sexual partners, all things being equal, than are heterosexual men or women, according to research (Kim, 2001). OVER THE PAST DECADE, as more and more of my clients started to come in and talk about men they “met” on-line, I began to notice that there are also downsides to the immediacy of cruising the Internet. Although some men made more of a connection than simply answering an ad for “hung, horny, and available,” many were not experiencing any actual as opposed to virtual erotic flirtation preceding their first (and usually only) encounter with someone they met on-line. I was struck by the absence of romance, and by the fact that some of my clients were reporting satisfying sex lives but the same levels of social isolation and lack of self-confidence as before. In fact, some felt even less confident about dating and having to carry on a face-to-face conversation with an interesting man. Such interactions used to be part of the bargain, while now a short blurb and photo on the Internet could be enough to get two men into bed together. From what my clients were describing, there wasn’t much conversation or connection beyond the sexual encounter. What was also interesting was that they were reporting this not as problematic, but as confusing. Because parts of gay male culture have so strongly valued sex over intimacy, they didn’t have a language with which to express why, despite all the great sex they were having, they were often unsatisfied emotionally. While the answer may be obvious to an older man who’s been through a phase of youthful sexual adventurism, I’ve come to believe that a more fundamental change could be taking place in gay men’s ability to interact socially and to cope with the emotional ups and downs of a real relationship. The generation of gay men growing up on-line is not learning how to tolerate a level of social anxiety and discomfort that’s been an unavoidable part of flirting for eons of human interaction. Wondering whether to look over, whether to smile, whether to speak, one may feel self-conscious and uncomfortable before someone breaks the ice. But taking risks and putting oneself on the line builds a certain kind of emotional muscle. Even the experience of rejection can be a good thing, able to teach lessons of humility and kindness in response to others’ advances. And flirtation is a wonderful part of erotic life, an end in itself that’s lost on the cyber superhighway. To be sure, there is some virtual flirtation going on, but it’s just not as complex as when body language, facial expressions, coy glances, subtle touches are in play—the whole dance that goes on between two people who are interested in each other (or not, for that matter). Even as you read this sentence, millions of people are sitting at home in front of their computers looking for sex, talking on-line to strangers, perhaps sharing some of their secret thoughts, and perhaps even experiencing real intimacy—perhaps. I’ve had clients come into sessions breathless with excitement and say, “I think I’m in love with him!” I’d scoot my chair closer and ask how they met, only to discover they’ve e-mailed a few times and shared that they’re both bears looking for bears and are available to hook up. “But I can tell from his e-mails that he’s the one I’ve been waiting for!” I coach my clients to do more than just meet for sex. First, they should at least speak on the phone before meeting, and they should plan to go on a date rather than have sex right away. If you want to date him, assess if he is genuinely curious about you or only curious about how you are in bed. Does he hold your interest? Are things happening in the conversation that are allowing a beginning level of trust to develop? I’m convinced that some gay men are confused about what they want. They say they want hot sex, but even when they find it, they complain that something is missing in their lives. I respectfully suggest that most gay men are interested not just in hot sex, but in passionate, intimate, heart-exploding love. That’s much harder to find in the loneliness and privacy and anonymity and safety of the computer connection. There’s another issue I raise with my clients, having recently published a book on barebacking or unprotected anal sex. I learned more than you probably want to know about how the Internet has become a main source of hook-ups for barebackers. It leads me to urge men who cruise on-line to do two things: First, be honest. Post recent photos of yourself and write accurate profiles, always including your HIV status. This is especially vital if you are positive. Second, be kind. I’ve heard a lot of stories of men exchanging photos and then the other guy disappears from the instant messaging board without a word. That kind of rejection is brutal. Try to put yourself in the other person’s shoes, and don’t use the anonymity of the Internet as a painless way to be unkind. We need to treat this new space like a real community even if it’s only a virtual one. IT USED TO BE that going to a gay bar meant being in the thick of gay community, gay culture, and gay activism. There would be fliers up on a bulletin board somewhere near the pay phone. There might be a fundraiser for the local LGBT community center or there might be some political conversation. (Of course, that world still exists, however reduced in scope in many cities.) While the Internet is a powerful tool for organizing and for getting the word out about GLBT issues—from news on legislation to advice on how to bypass heterosexist adoption laws—I worry that it’s lulling us into a false sense of security. Because if we’re sitting at home, we can’t be out on the street carrying signs or running the risk of getting gay-bashed outside a bar, or hearing someone yell “Faggot!” when we walk home with a lover. Are we forgetting about the realities of homophobia while we sit at home forwarding petitions or talking dirty with a stranger? At what point do we decide that it’s not in our individual or communal best interest to hide from the real world, including the political realities that affect our lives, such as the persistence of homophobia in America? At what point do we trade our slippers in for walking shoes and go back out into the physical gay world, which has been shrinking in recent years? New York used to have three gay bookstores that were reliable places for both political organizing and flirting. Now, we’re down to one. Where is everybody? At home, on line, ordering gay books from Amazon (or men from craigslist)? On a recent rip to San Francisco I was in Mr. S, the premier leather shop in the US. After my purchase the salesman and I were discussing how things were in our respective cities. I was lamenting that since the closing of the Lure Manhattan was without a gay bar. To my shock he said that the same was true in San Francisco, and then went on to say the he thought that the reason for this was the rise in online cruising. I agreed with him and then we both talked about how the Internet could never recreate the intoxicating and highly charged erotic atmosphere that made a packed leather bar sizzle on a good night. The more we withdraw and become distracted by the seductiveness and safety of the on-line gay sex culture, the fewer there are of us who are on the front lines to fight the good fight. Recently, organizers planned a youth conference in Seattle to address GLBT suicide. An anti-gay government official said the organizers had to change the title to delete the words “Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender.” The Bush administration is trying to erase all traces of GLBT people; they would love to force us back into the closet. And in some way, staying in our own safe, virtual realities, perhaps we’re putting ourselves back there. Our slogan used to be, “We are everywhere,” but it’s starting to have a hollow ring. This is politically and psychologically dangerous. Will fewer and fewer people feel it’s necessary to come out if they can safely cruise for sex while living heterosexual-seeming lives? Visible gay social spaces are disappearing, and thus so are we, and we’re doing it to ourselves. Michael Shernoff, LCSW, a practicing psychotherapist who teaches at Columbia University’s School of Social Work, is the author of Without Condoms: Unprotected Sex, Gay Men and Barebacking (Routledge).
References
Cooper, A. & Griffin-Shelley, E., eds. Sex & The Internet: A Guide for Clinicians (editors’ “Introduction”). Brunner- Routledge, 2002.
Kim, A., Kent, C., & McFarland, W. “Cruising on the Internet Highway.” Journal of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndromes, 28.1, 2001.
Ross, M. “The internet as a medium for HIV prevention and counseling.” FOCUS: A Guide to AIDS Research and Counseling, 17, April 2002.
