On “The Sex Thing”

or No, Gen Z isn’t Knocking Boots

by Marcello Cortese

What would you think if I said that D.H. Lawrence invented hookup culture? 

I mean, he didn’t. Or at least I have no way of proving that he did. I’m sure the ancient Romans had their own preferences and habits long before the 20th century, but the point to be made here is that Lawrence kind of came up with a term that distinguished sex from the sexual habit.

In Lady Chatterley’s Lover, the topic of sex is a central theme within the story, becoming a common point of discussion amongst the characters and their psychology. Given that there are thousands of texts on sex and all of its colors throughout history, what I think separates Lady Chatterley from the rest of the literary canon is Lawrence’s technicality around the sexual discussion.

He doesn’t merely write out the word “sex.” He always uses an adverb or specifier, calling it “the sex thing,” “the sex game,” or “the sex-compulsion.” There is a contextual asterisk associated with sexuality in this novel, which in a way brings a cavalier attitude toward this sense of physical intimacy.

I’ve been thinking about this distinction a lot more lately in our cultural context. After reading several articles from NPR and VICE and others—all focused on the increasing abstinence of Gen Z—I tried again to understand the distinction of sex from “the sex thing.” In the basic way, the difference is that one is an act and the other is an idea. I find it more interesting to think of the “sex thing” as an act of its own though, just one that is less “realized” than sex. 

In today’s day and age, young people seem to have a great many reasons to not have sex, none of them necessarily being the “right” one. There is a consistent delegation of intimacy, what with the rise of social media and the digitizing of relationships and community… this we all know. The more time spent online means the less time we’re out talking to one another, to our neighbors, colleagues, and friends.

People don’t want to be recorded, so the emphasis on embarrassment or looking “cringe” becomes too real to allow cold approaches in public spaces. Younger people also live in a state of constant financial unease, and the very idea of unplanned pregnancy petrifies them. STDs too. The common solution to these worries? Just don’t tempt fate. Can’t contract anything or wind up with a baby if you’re just not… having sex.

Then there are matters of the environment. Lower libidos and sperm counts in men due to microplastic infiltration and hormonal disruptions due to the consumption of poisoned food. The same for women’s fertility levels. There is also a plainness that has come about the topic of sexuality in the past few years with the rise of OnlyFans and like companies, which at first glance seem to provide a more democratic approach to sexual expression. But ultimately it has become so that everything is sexualized in our current media. Literally. Everything. So then it just becomes boring. The mystery fades.

From the rise of fanfiction-style romantasy in the publishing market to softcore porn in television, social media’s habit of infantilizing sexual figures and sexualizing minors with problematic trends, the accessibility of porn, scandalous microtrends in fashion, the echo chamber of narcissism in young and old people alike with the various “platforms” offered to the common public… it’s somewhat difficult to think about what hasn’t become sexual in our society.

Well, except for the thing that’s supposed to be sexual. What was it that Zelda Fitzgerald wrote? “Sex is such a poor substitute.” For what, you ask? 

“Sex, you idiot,” she’d reply. 

So why am I drawing you in with the idea of hookup culture? Because, I think, of its place in counter culture. Whether or not people want to discuss it as a movement, as a direct response to previous modes of dating, I do in fact feel that it is. With everything that comes as a response to the status quo, hookup culture has been the referential standard for this new wave of insanctimony—of rejecting and criticizing something people have started to dismantle: monogamy. 

It’s the thing now, with the adoption of open marriages, polycules, “one-sided monogamy” (learned about this in that manosphere documentary), these terms just keep popping up. I won’t bother assessing the pros and cons of each here, you can find plethorous articles that do just that anyway.

But with these terms that become mainstream, a social priority shifts. More people are talking about dating seemingly more than ever, there are movies constantly being made that raise this conversation to the standard of cinema, and the access to one another is just there.

Hookup culture is the byproduct of boredom, I think. And those actively participating seem to mistake their own boredom with adventure. Nevertheless, it’s not on the fringe anymore, and what began as an actionable response to the nuclear family and traditional values of courting has since reduced across the pan, simmering everything involved in romance and social communion down to casual.

But, let’s be real, has monogamy ever really worked? People cheat regardless. Not everyone, but some people. The new narrative is that it’s unreasonable to expect a person to satisfy every intimate desire with only one person. Openness is praised as this “healthier” alternative to sneaking around on one another, and what’s the harm if everyone is aware and in agreement, right?

Take a quick look at moments in history and we can see that independent cultures have “bested” this model. Ancient Mesopotamia, France (pre and post revolution), Tiger King… these are just some examples of the sexually liberated platform. I mean, one hundred years ago, when credit was invented and liquor was banned, was sexual ambiguity not a social response as well? And in the age of free love in the late 60s, when the entire mantra was the separation of love and sexual freedom from convention, there was another shift in attitude.

So if we take this into consideration, we can also see that in the case of Lady Chatterley, sexual adventure was perhaps a response to the growing conformity of the Industrial Revolution. People tend to turn to an underbelly during a time of great, widespread movement, perhaps as a sense of personal rebellion. But, in today’s day and age, where do we turn when the underbelly is no longer a taboo? It becomes commodified, packaged, and enhanced as a model of commerce, perhaps.

That sex is the newest thing to “buy” is a bit ironic, no? The thing to accommodate and feed into, for algorithmic purposes of dating app subscriptions or an excuse to habitually drink on countless first dates… is it exhausting or is it exhilarating? 

And there is the other question: What is the true reason why younger people aren’t sleeping around, if there is a singular navel? We’ve covered pregnancy, STDs, financial strain, exhaustion, delegation (pornography), environmental and social priorities… could it be that we forgot one? Mayhaps, booze? 

Just as Seinfeld once told Eileen, the majority of the population is “undatable.” So, if that is so true, then why—no, how—are people constantly getting together? One word: alcohol.

I know that it’s too reductive to say that in a society of an increasingly sober public there is less sex, but could that be part of it? We’ve all seen those headlines on Instagram about how Gen Z is sobering up so quickly and consistently that the alcohol industry is in “collapse.” Sounds extreme to me, but it’s clearly a notable shift in our social behavior.

With the wide-spreading of chronic anxiety and depression specifically, people turn to chronic remedies. Weed. Nicotine. It’s something that helps… doesn’t cure anything necessarily, but it helps. It soothes. And you don’t need a milieu of doctoral experts to tell you that alcohol doesn’t soothe those kinds of things. So again, priorities shift, even in terms of a “fix.”

There, too, has been the rapidly growing lifestyle shift of wellness in young people. In an age of microplastics and poisoned food, Millennials and Gen Z want to feel better both physically and emotionally. The goal is not necessarily to be “cool” anymore, but instead to feel clean. Going to bed earlier and waking up earlier, exercising, drinking green juice is all good to flush out the junk and make the skin glow, but is it ultimately good for libido? 

About a year ago, Catherine Pearson wrote about just this in her article, “The Joy — and Awkwardness — of Sober Sex” for the NYTimes (which you can read here). She discussed both active recovery as well as independent shifts away from booze in the bedroom for all sorts of personal reasons. What I appreciated is that she didn’t go in the direction of “higher” or “lower” sex drive, or metrics of success based on certain thresholds, but rather that the experiences of the people she interviewed were “different” depending on their levels of sobriety. Many times, she discusses the idea of having to “relearn” how to be sexually sober, that it isn’t the simple shift between night and day, but ultimately there is a bridge that is built with practice.

The age of sexual sobriety has finally arrived. That’s what we’re getting to.

It seems to be something less about impulse and more about discernment. The youth are more decisive than they’re given credit for, and they’re ultimately saying yes and no in areas not before so socially demarcated. Is there some rift between the drinkers and the sober? The sexually active and uninterested? Not necessarily, not perhaps like there used to be. It’s up to personal preference now.

Women are incrementally stepping away from the sexual platform because a great many feel that hookup culture only serves men. Men either buy in or they don’t… both roads lead to the same state of being anyway. The only difference is body count. So why bother raising it when you can avoid illness and baby scares, while also feeling less “ran through,” as the kids now put it.

I’m positing this in the term of “sexual sobriety” and not “abstinence” or “celibacy” because it feels like a different thing altogether. I mentioned discernment above, and that seems to be a big part of it. There is a stronger sense of “no, that’s not what I want,” with younger generations. Boundaries are firmer, communication is prioritized, relationships are compartmentalized… There is less melodrama or ritual about this growing mindset and more about overall lifestyle change, such as sobriety. It’s not as in your face, I suppose. In this way, this cavalier attitude is almost comical in comparison to the very rampant, very energetic social excitement of hookup culture. 

For a time, I myself viewed polygamy as an attempt for most people to have their cake and eat it too, like it was a cheat or workaround of an underlying problem or a lack in romantic relationships. Delegation and outsourcing of the physical aspects can be justified enough to make it seem like they aren’t as important as the emotional and intellectual intercourse between two people. But I have to admit that I, too, romanticize the idea of having a lover. 

Throughout history, the symbol of the lover remains on a pedestal because of the sexual flavors that it provides to a fulfilling love. In literature characters take lovers. Especially when they’re married. It’s just what they do, and in contemporary times it’s incredibly easy to think of this kind of thing in lofty and romantic ways, instead of perhaps assessing the morally grey shades about it. After all, if you’re talking to a person at a party and they mention they have a “lover,” chances are you’ll probably be a bit impressed (and perhaps jealous). There is a classic beauty to that kind of framework that situationships and talking stages and hookup culture just. Do. Not. Have. 

Part of that lends itself to cynicism. Decades ago, younger people were all about butterflies in the stomach and “going steady.” There was more of a sense of innocence and naivety, such as with the characters in books. Adults are the ones who know about sex, so they’re allowed to be disillusioned and cynical about that sort of thing.

In 2026, however, it’s nearly impossible for younger people to not “know” about sex or get impressions, whether or not they’re wrong. The cynicism is coming much sooner than before. And this barrage of displaced information that takes the place of quiet, nervous, practical experience is what is making teenagers and young adults ultimately feel like giving up. If everyone belongs to everyone else, then of course no one belongs to someone. 

Here is the distinction between now and then: the lover versus the hookup. Boiled down to the simplest of terms, to have a lover is to have sex. To partake in a hookup is to engage in “the sex thing.” One is an experience that focuses on presence and exchange, the other is an excuse for friction. Both are ultimately affective, truthfully. All this is yet another assessment of the state of our climate, yet I find it extremely important to remember that we are people who are currently in the culture of the “sex thing,” and not sex. 

Whether Gen Z decides to start rolling around in the hay again is up to them, but for now we have the conversation.