I may disagree with this depending on what you mean by enjoyable. I assume the broadest of meaning but would clarify that I don’t view a lack of enjoyment in the physical sense or even serious discomfort as an inhibition to the achievement of happiness in a more long term sense and that more often than not, discomfort is a part of the package for serious achievement and the more meaningful kinds of satisfaction.
I agree with you on all counts. And yes, serious physical discomfort is often needed for happiness, or even life on its most literal level (like a life-saving surgery and the following rehabilitation). And yet, if life were nothing but pain and suffering, we should hardly fight for it. Ultimately we care for life because of our experience of the pleasures and happiness that our choices can bring us, not for the sake of flipping pages on a calendar. So I account those pleasures and happiness (so long as they are consonant with life, as such) as being “the good.”
But we may still have to hammer this out, and quite frankly, I’m not yet satisfied with my own abilities to describe what I mean here. Above all, I think that neither of us would advise “serious discomfort” except as means to some greater enjoyment of life (pleasure, happiness, a longer, more fulfilling life), and likewise I don’t think we should discourage taking pleasure in life, except when it prevents one from achieving those selfsame greater values.
Sure, but the amount of the other good that exists has to be related to your perception of your partners quality, right?
In large part, yes (though I don’t know if even that covers it; I suspect there’s lots of good where sex is concerned). I’ve never denied it – a great partner (meaning more than “great looking” or “great in bed” but great) makes sex great or even greater. My argument isn’t against sex with an ideal partner (or the best you can find, provided she’s something better than Supermodel Stalin); it is against the idea that sex apart from this ideal partner is necessarily immoral.
If we were discussing steak, I would tell you flat out that the best I’ve ever had was at Emeril Lagasse’s Delmonicos’s in Las Vegas. Other steaks don’t compare to it. And all else being equal, I would never have a steak at Chili’s over another steak from Delmonico’s.
But does this mean that I should never have another steak at Chili’s? Or that it would be immoral if I did?
And to anticipate the ever-present “indiscriminate steak eater” objection, no, this doesn’t mean that I advocate eating rancid, uncooked steaks that you find in the dumpster; there is middle ground (a lot of it), between “indiscriminate” or otherwise lacking in value, and “highest value.” The middle ground exists – it’s called Chili’s – and it’s not Delmonico’s, but it’s not all that bad, either.
This is probably the fundamental difference separating our respective opinions. (And to be fair, I should note that it is where I seem to part company with many Objectivists…so you are in good company, not me)
I appreciate the sentiment… but honestly? The only company I seek is truth. If you’re right about something, anything, I’d rather be in your company on that issue, no matter who sits on the opposite side.
I believe in free will but it’s a pretty delimited version compared to what I have seen in the Objectivist community. So…“gets associated” by the person having the experience. And to be sure, they could consider it and look for causation and affect on their psyche, but it’s not usually enough and only consistently applied for issues that are more directly harmful.
Introspection is an undervalued, underperformed art. No argument there.
Even in those circumstances I don’t see rational consideration of psychological issues as adequate in any sense for the resolution of those issues. As an example, I have a friend who grew up with an emotionally abrasive, demanding father and an enabling kind mother who subsequently gets walked over. This example caused her to learn that being emotionally abrasive and demanding in relationships is a far better strategy to get what she wants. Even with the conscious realization of the incorrectness of her approach through therapy, she still cannot will herself into correct behavior. The experiences are far too internalized to allow for an about face. I see it the same with any enduring habit. Smoking, meaningless sex, nail biting, or whatever. Ultimately in your control? Sure. With enough effort and appropriate strategies one can change quite a bit. But stop the effects of the habit from forming through will alone or by conscious consideration? Not in my experience. I think that your experiences affect and change you whether you want them to or not and to change them in another way requires a good deal of work.
I’m not precisely sure what this means for the totality of our discussion, but honestly? I don’t think you’re wrong at all. It is one thing to make a conscious decision to be a different, a better person in some way. It’s another to implement that, and that implementation often takes time, and hard work, and there can be many obstacles in a person’s path.
For myself, I’ve had to deal with issues of depression and anger for most of my life. I can tell you about my childhood, and my own suspicions of where I picked up some of those attitudes, but what matters most to me is how I work to better myself, now and with what I have. (And I see “free will” as being a range of choices, that range informed by the context/circumstances of your actual life and history – not some absolute mastery to be whatever you want to be, or do whatever you want to do, at the very instant you’ve willed it.)
And yet, I’m not sure how much that childhood experiences, or behavioral/emotional habits instilled in a youth’s mind, correlates to having sex with a woman as an adult (or late teen, in any event), and then being unable to evaluate her reasonably due to having experienced that pleasure.
Since we’re agreed (I believe) that many people suck at being introspective, or rational and ethical more generally, then many people will have this difficulty, it is true. But again, that’s not due to any problems with casual sex – instead that’s a problem which some people have in thinking objectively, or in reason.
Sure, if you have actually met any. 
LOL. I wish. (Maybe?)
No, I don’t have any experience with prostitutes of any variety (that I know of) – most of my experience with hookers comes from art. But if John Galt, Hank Rearden, et al., in Atlas Shrugged stand as proof that such men can exist, then what of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, or Jamie Lee Curtis in Trading Places (she was a hooker – right?), or Inara in Firefly, or… Kira Argounova in We the Living?
I suppose, if it was limited to that. I just don’t believe that it can be without a mind/body dichotomy.
Can you expand on this? I love mind/body splits! (By which I mean that I despise them, and like rooting them out.)
I’ve just seen it that way. Otherwise rational guys with a Quixotic tendency. "I slept with her so she’s definitely not a whore, she’s a princess. "
Oh man, that’s another great whore – Aldonza (in Man of La Mancha, at least)! Of course, I would contend that Quixote saw what was true of her beyond her superficial appearance – Dulcinea del Toboso, the princess within – and that his vision of life-as-it-ought-to-be helped to draw those qualities out of her, and helped to make her aware of them, too. But I’m disposed to defend Quixote. (The “Don” in my handle is taken thence, reflecting a nearly lifelong love with the character.)
As regards what you’ve actually said, I agree that some people do do that. I just don’t think that it’s unavoidable, or that all people do that. And thus I don’t think we can condemn casual sex on that basis.
This is mostly covered in what I wrote above, but at the risk of verbosity, it depends on where you are at. For some, casual sex might be a step up. I know a gal who after several relationships with dishonest men see’s short term sex buddies as far preferable. For her, it probably is. Not the best of all possible worlds, and probably not even the best she could do with a better philosophy, but probably the best she can hope for with where she’s at.
So take two identical twins, Christy and Misty. At 15 Chisty, the more social of the two gets invited to a party. She get’s a little too drunk and wakes up to find she lost her virginity to Blake. She never would have chosen him but you know how those things are. Feeling the blow to her self esteem, she finally agrees to start going out with Nathan, a dopey pothead that’s been hitting on her for the better part of the year. After a couple months of mediocre sex and lounging about in his parents basement, they break up and she moves on to a string of other so so relationships ending in an accidental pregnancy with Eddie who has a good deal of trouble holding down a job for more than a few months. Misty meanwhile has an enduring friendship with Wesley, her slightly geeky but fairly brilliant lab partner. By their senior year they move into a relationship and consciously choose to be each others first. It lasts through their second year of college but ultimately fails from the long distance between them and minor differences. She eventually moves on with a secure sense of what she’s looking for, finding Peter, who has a lot in common with Wesley but is a good deal more masculine and mature and close. They get married and live happily ever after.
So who has the better concept of sex? Who has better sex? After Christy’s previous experiences, how much would you bet on her changing her expectations and desires? Is she more or less likely to find her “Peter?” For me, the answers are obvious.
Oh, for me, too. No question. Though I’m not sure how much this strictly has to do with “sex,” or how casually one approaches it, and how much it has to do with one’s life choices overall. Let me explain what I mean by way of a contrasting story:
Suppose that Christy decided that, due to her experience of having been raped by Blake, she is not going to have sex again apart from meeting her ideal mate – like the heroes she’s read about in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. She hangs out with Nathan, a dopey pothead, but she’s not interested in him romantically… or anyone else at the school, and she barely tolerates his friendship, which is largely a byproduct of a childhood association. Nobody measures up to her standards. By the time she’s in college, she has a hard time dealing with anyone she meets, let alone on a “romantic” level, and prefers to be solitary in her room. She finds college guys woefully immature and insensitive, and begins to doubt whether she’ll ever find someone worthy of her, and the true virginity of her willfully-given consent. She resents the laughter she hears through the dorm walls at night, and the other… noises. She contents herself by imagining that they’re acting immorally, like hedonists – they must be, they’re always smiling – and are destroying their future capacity for pleasure (somehow, to be determined later), while she… she will have an even greater pleasure… someday. Though others on her floor invite her to parties, Christy never goes. She knows well what might happen at such parties, and she’s not about to make that mistake again. She graduates from college never having gone out on a date.
Meanwhile, Misty likes Wesley, her slightly geeky but fairly brilliant lab partner. While she enjoys her budding relationship with Wesley, she also dates Jonathan and Steve on occassion. Jonathan and Steve are nice guys, and good looking, and Misty has fun with them, studying and “fooling around,” but she doesn’t yet feel ready to have sex with anyone or commit to a “serious” relationship. Finally she and Wesley decide to see one another exclusively. And rather than wait, they have sex with one another straight off, which they find to be pleasant, but somewhat awkward (largely due to their inexperience).
When the strains of distance dating eventually separate Misty from Wesley, Misty decides that she should spend some time “enjoying being single.” She dates lots of men, because there are a bevy of intelligent, good-looking single men on campus. Many of them she ultimately finds unappealing in a life-partner way for one reason or another, but several are still very interesting and attractive, and pleasant to spend time with, and she winds up sleeping with some number of them – not very many, mind, but more than a few. She finds she has a passion for good sex, it makes her feel so alive and vital. During this time, she learns much more about herself and her interests in these kinds of relationships, both sexual and otherwise (partly aided by the contrast she finds among her chosen lovers). Some people see her as a “party girl,” and her sister actually calls her “promiscuous” at one point, and asserts (rather without explanation) that she is acting “improperly.” But Misty is enjoying herself, and getting good grades, and she’s received no complaints from the men she’s dated. So she doesn’t see the need to stop.
One day Misty goes to a party (to which Christy was also invited, but refused to attend “on principle”) and meets Peter. She has a lot in common with Peter – they’ve both been actively dating, and have loved “the college lifestyle” – and actually she finds that he’s much like Wesley, but a good deal more masculine and mature and close. When they have sex, they’re both pleased to discover that they have a good understanding of how to please, and be pleased, and they’re not jealous of each other’s experiences, because they realize that those experiences have contributed to their capacity to have a such rich and fulfilling relationship with one another. Misty, after all, has made some mistakes along the way, with Wesley and with others, and she’s glad that she’s learned from those mistakes so that she doesn’t accidentally drive Peter away, who potentially represents a great value for the rest of her life. She finds that Peter is so wonderful, she’s ready to commit again to a long term relationship, and so they get married and live happily ever after.
So this is another possible story. And of the four, I would not wish to be Christy in either, but I would like to be Misty (or her male equivalent, at any rate). I do not think that what makes the difference between Christy and Misty is their approach to “casual sex” – do you? (Or at least, I don’t think that Misty’s approach to sex in my rewrite is doing her any harm. And maybe it’s even good?)
By the way, I recognize that Christy’s second story may very well have another chapter which in some way redeems her (though I don’t know whether it would be sufficient to make up for all those nights, laying there alone in her dorm room). It all depends in how we write the tale. Since I’m playing author, I’ll give her a “happy ending” – it seems the least I can do:
Sometime there after, say in Christy’s midlife, she runs into her old “friend” Nathan once more, though now, he goes by his full name – “Nathaniel.” He’s given up pot, and actually has refashioned himself into the kind of man that Christy has always wanted. The kind of man in preparation for whom she’s refused even the slightest bit of physical intimacy or pleasure for decades. She is convinced that her wait has paid off: she has finally found her highest ideals made manifest, and that nothing can ever, ever go wrong. Not with a man like Nathaniel.
And nothing ever does.
Like the “prostitute with a heart of gold,” the girl who changes her ways and finds true love is more a part of Hollywood than real life. In real life, a heart of gold doesn’t land you in the sex trade world and when it does, you don’t keep your heart of gold. They are both in between versions but spread out enough to draw a reasonable conclusion about which side one ought to aim for.
I think that the illegality of prostitution, and the dominant culture which casts sex as evil, in general, predisposes the prostitutes one might find on the current day street to be mainly as you suggest. I do not know that in a more rational culture, one that values trade, respects rights, believes in self-ownership, and that pleasure is life-affirming and good, that this would necessarily be so.
Casual sex implies not discriminating much, to me. I suppose you could descriminate a bit. On looks, or sense of humor, or that sort of thing.
Yes, those sorts of things. And also intelligence (perceived), and productivity, and etc., etc., etc. And by the way, let’s not discount “looks” or “sense of humor,” as even those qualities may tell you a fair bit about a person.
You may find a reasonably intelligent person, reasonably productive, who is good looking enough, and with a good enough sense of humor, that you find them attractive – sexually attractive – and worth spending time with (though perhaps not marrying; though perhaps not dating for an extended period of time, or exclusively). You may discriminate in that you would not sleep with just “anyone,” yet you might decide to sleep with this person, though they do not possess your “highest values.” This is casual sex.
But directionally speaking, the extent to which you discriminate is the extent to which you’re not leaving your choice to chance.
Let’s say that the more you investigate a particular stock before investing in it, the less you’re “leaving to chance.” No amount of investigation protects your investment 100%, and at some point you must assess the risks and decide whether it’s worth it to participate.
If I see a good-looking woman at the bar, and on that basis decide to approach her, I am already “discriminating.” If I chat her up, and begin to get a feel for who she is, I am discriminating further. When we discuss the music we like, etc., the process continues. All the while, I make conscious or subconscious note of items like how she uses her eyes, how she smiles, etc. All of this is information, and it is reflected in how attracted I find myself to her (though I can also reach conscious conclusions). She invites me to her place for continued conversation, and the subtext is clear. At some point, whether that night or sometime later, knowing her to some extent, more or less, but never 100%, I must decide whether it’s worth the risks of sex (such as they are) to engage her in intercourse. None of this is done without discrimination, yet all such decisions necessarily entail risk.