Does so-called “condom culture” still exist? Some folks seem loathe to end our arranged marriage to latex. But condoms were never very sexy. To me, they’ve always signified a sad, rather apocalyptic shift in our sexuality. If this is divorce, show me where to initial the paperwork.

I can recall the first time I saw a condom. I found a reel of them buried inside a sock in my father’s closet. I opened one up and discovered it had a medical sort of smell and was treated with something gross and gooey. I was 10, and while I knew I’d found something sex-related, I didn’t have all the mechanics down (back in 1980, 10 was still pretty innocent and clueless). But it didn’t take long for me to find out exactly what they were and determine they were probably being used as birth control.

AIDS was just around the corner, and its arrival would change condom use into the rule rather than the exception. By this time, my Dad would occasionally throw out the phrase “Wrap that rascal!” with feigned enthusiasm. Although meant with humor, the slogan still makes me wince.

The ‘feels better’ argument for condom-less sex is a no-brainer. Of course it feels better. But to say that’s the end of the story is a massive oversimplification.  Enter PrEP, sperm fetishism, Truvada whores, big pharma, “ending AIDS,” self preservation vs. self destruction, bareback porn, discordant partners, the meth factor…  these are all overlapping, difficult to untangle issues that have us arguing at cocktail parties, slinging mud on social media, and maybe even folding our arms and sighing at one another in our bedrooms.

I’m not a big fan of listicles, and I’m not going to tackle all of the above listed issues, but I’ll use the format to toss around some ideas about a few of them.

1. I would posit that men who have sex with men (herein, MSMs) were never intended to continue having sex with condoms indefinitely. For over 30 years, gay men have been quarantined — under control… a known quantity, with condom use as our perceived keeper. Losing that feels anarchic to some people. Too damn bad, I say. Did you really think we’d keep doing this forever, ad infinitum? Sex is animalistic, and placing conditions/regulations/laws on such behavior is a drag, plain and simple. It’s not natural. It cuts on the quality of the experience, the magnitude of the release. I’m not arguing with the fact that it also became very necessary as a tool to curb the spread of HIV. But now that we’re faced with an alternate reality in the form of PrEP, people are freaking out.

2.  Prior to AIDS, STDs were somewhat commonplace occurrences among gay men. Talk to those that came of age in the 70’s and you’ll be hard-pressed to find one that didn’t have a bout of crabs, Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, etc. Some of them experienced the jaundiced joy of hepatitis while others dealt with scabies running like golf-course-gophers under their skin. This is not to imply that STDs aren’t to be taken seriously or avoided, but I’d liken dealing with them to the cost of doing business. STD’s are old, old news. Let’s not treat them with undue new fear.

3. That the Erie County Health Department is convinced an uptick of syphilis (from 2011 to present) can be directly linked to gay hookup apps (Grindr, Scruff, Growlr, etc) isn’t terribly surprising, so don’t act like it is. I might add that since we have an unusually large population of bisexual males in this region that may only identify as such to other males (i.e., not to their wives or female partners), it brings a greater level of crosspollination to the table. Regardless, the hullabaloo created by an early January Buffalo News article about the return of syphilis was downright histrionic — fellow gays feigned shock, letting out a collective cry of, “How dare they imply this might be OUR fault?!” Let’s be clear: nobody wants any of these illnesses. But the shrill response to the news story (and the implied connection to MSMs hooking up via phone apps) can be attributed to the perceived anarchy mentioned in #1. People are frightened by the reality of gays running around, wagging their unsheathed penises willy-nilly… even within our own community. It feels out of control. Last time we were in this spot, a plague broke out.

4. The more important takeaway is that most of us never got to experience the simple live-and-learn principle that comes with this territory. Becoming a teen in the early 80’s, the stakes were too high. Live: you choose to have unprotected sex. Learn: you get diagnosed with a virus that will eventually kill you. We are now slowly returning to the previous model, wherein sometimes you make decisions that result in contracting an illness that won’t kill you and most often isn’t permanent. And perhaps, after finishing your antibiotic, you’ll make different choices. Or stay away from certain behaviors. Or not. Some of us learn from our mistakes more slowly than others, but I bet most guys would avoid a repeat performance. I recently got into an argument with another gay man on social media who expressed concern that, “Guys taking Truvada are going to think they can just do whatever they want!”                   

I had to remind him: we’ve always been able to do whatever we want.  

4. Untreatable STD strains are a frightening development indeed. Or maybe, as some conspiracists believe, they’re part of a government constructed reality to keep sexuality in check (good luck with that). Either way, let’s leave that on the back burner for right now.  The tendency here is to look for an all-decks-are-clear, super- safe moment of perfection to step out on a limb. Have you experienced that in any aspect of your life, ever? Me neither. It doesn’t exist. If you answered yes, go back and look at how it was an illusion.

5. Baby batter. Man-jam. Joy juice. Swimmers. The almighty “load.” Throughout history, various cultures have placed huge values on semen, characterizing it as the most potent product our bodies can make — quite literally, an excretion of our life force. Our relationship to semen has always been complex, but HIV and AIDS made it more so by adding ‘potentially poisonous’ to its list of characteristics. Where there is taboo, there is increased temptation. You do the math. And look no further than our fascination with vampirism for proof of our ongoing fixation with the idea of being permanently marked by a lover… changed forever. It’s an enduring fantasy.  

6. Some MSMs in their late 20’s and early 30’s seem to feel a contrived community allegiance through the use of condoms. To them, it’s an act of civility. They are fighting the good fight. They are proponents of preservation. But, whether or not they care to admit it (or perhaps they’re unable to see the truth), this thinking is also a product of the deeply ingrained fear that HIV and AIDS brought us. Their sex is tight and tidy, the resulting fluid tied off in a latex balloon and flushed down the toilet (and thank heavens for that, since we wouldn’t want to stain those bazillion thread count sheets). They seem to think that guys bent on condom-less sex lack imagination. I’d beg to differ: the idea of a determined, unstoppable man depositing a warm solution of “life force” deep inside your body isn’t sexy? Lacks possibilities? Doesn’t turn you on? C’mon now, get real. To me, it sounds like they’re sexually shut down. And that’s nobody’s fault.  

7. I didn’t know many heterosexuals that made regular use of condoms, even during the height of AIDS. This made using them even less attractive to me — almost like a punishment for being gay (cue Dad, “Wrap that rascal!”) Because I do that, I have to use those. I felt sandwiched between lame options (latex or debilitating fear, often choosing the latter and suffering) while my breeder brethren were busy trying their luck at a combination of the rhythm method and birth control pills. It hardly seemed fair. Outside of a few yeast infections, most of the straight people I knew came away from their formative years unscathed by the sex they had. Go figure.

8. Since pre-exposure prophylaxis drugs are causing a lot of the post condom-culture shock, this conversation requires outing our collective distrust of big pharma as the elephant in the room. Concerns about taking Truvada range from a healthy skepticism about marketing vs. medicine (although it can’t be overstated: Gilead hasn’t done any commercial marketing of Truvada as PrEP) to flaccid arguments about the bummer of needing a lifelong prescription just for being gay. This reeks of denial and obstructed sexuality, not to mention a truly unfortunate need to make everything academic. Not every problem is so simply solved with self control or explained away with theories. Sex transcends logic. We’ve always been a promiscuous bunch, and changing that isn’t as simple as you might think. Having a prescription to protect us from ourselves might be what makes the difference between ending AIDS and not. Deal with it.

Plus, are these people hoping for some sort of holistic treatment? A naturally occurring herb, perhaps? Something made with hemp? Tom’s of Maine Truvada, which will probably work as well as their deodorant?

Sometimes medical breakthroughs are just that—breakthroughs. Take the gift and run.

We like our conceptual boxes, our easy delineations. Losing condom culture represents a wider continuum of practices between what’s considered safe and unsafe. The grey area makes people uneasy. Going on a drug to prevent HIV transmission requires a leap of faith, particularly if it’s used to replace condoms. Not everybody will make that leap. There’s no rule that says you must give up one to use the other. But once you have the freedom to stay on the pill and lose the latex,  you may well find yourself experimenting—and there’s nothing wrong with that.

There was a time not long ago when barebacking represented a community of sexual outlaws. This wasn’t so much about one-off deviations from otherwise consistent condom use, but rather a determined decision to go without. To insiders, maybe it signified a reclaiming of otherness in the face of gays going mainstream — a means of creating/preserving some aspect of gay culture so extreme, it’d never get a mainstream blessing. Something like Truvada blurs these sub-cultural lines and asks us all a pretty tough question: Haven’t you always secretly desired to be an outlaw?