Joani Blank broke a mold in the adult toy industry 32 years ago when she created Good Vibrations as a place for women to get not just sex toys but also accurate information about sexuality and sexual products.
She was inspired to open the store by her experience working with “pre-orgasmic women’s groups”—a kind of therapy/consciousness-raising group that allowed women who weren’t reliably orgasmic to obtain information and skills that would let them experience their sexuality more fully. In this context, women learned not only from the sex therapist group leaders, but also from all the women present; as they spoke up in turn, everyone learned from similarities and differences in each others’ experiences. And they were encouraged to try vibrators, which led to Joani’s “aha” moment: Over and over she heard women say they could never go into one of “those places” to get one, and she realized women who wanted to shop for sexual products needed a new kind of place.
As it happens, this early example of sharing sex information perfectly sets the stage for us to consider the ways in which the adult toy and movie industries use “sexperts,” other experts and sexologists.
In the pre-orgasmic women’s groups, important information came not only from the sex therapists and other sex educators leading the groups, but also from each woman within the group, who, though not a trained expert herself, brought information and perspective to the table which benefited everyone. Since then, the role that expertise and “sexpertise” plays in our industry has grown, especially in the case of sexperts and sexologists. And they are fabulous additions to the mix, in particular when it comes to selling product and conveying information to new customers.
But sexperts, experts and sexologists are not the same: Each brings different things to the table, and to the sales floor. Some companies, like Good Vibrations, have strong relationships with all three. Other companies do not use each kind of spokesperson or teacher optimally, or even appear able to tell them apart.Sexperts:
Hands-on Experience
Sexperts are individuals whose own personal experiences inspire and inform them to become workshop leaders, teachers, authors or spokespeople, often for just one particular kind of erotic play: anal sex, female ejaculation, Tantra—the list is endless, because the ways we can enjoy and experience sexuality are endless. This kind of sexpert can become deeply identified with the kind of sex they initially choose to teach about or promote. Especially if they come to the table early and are the first to write a book or make a video about a topic, they can become very well-known and are often real experts and leaders in the field in which they specialize.
Other sexperts cover the waterfront. They tackle anything sex-related, from things they know intimately to things they don’t. A great example of this kind of sexpert is Dan Savage, whose humorous Q&A column runs in many alternative weeklies across the nation. A proudly out gay man, he can’t be expected to have much hands-on knowledge about female sexuality, but he regularly dispenses acerbic opinion on it, heterosexual coupling and every other sexual topic.
And then there’s the middle ground, someone whose own sexual interests expand and whose sexpertise follows accordingly, like Deborah Sundahl, who started out being solely identified with female ejaculation but whose educational focus now encompasses Tantra; and Tristan Taormino, whose anal education (in and out of the porn world) is still very well-known, but who also has written a notable book about open relationships.
Sexologists: Different by Degrees
Sexologists may or may not be principally identified with one type of sex education or enhancement strategy, and they may or may not teach from a first-person-inclusive, “I’ve done this myself so you know I know what I’m talking about” point of view. Sexologists differ from sexperts because they’ve received academic and/or profession training in their specialty. Whether or not they’re working within or in consultation to the adult industry, they likely maintain relationships with one or more professional sexology organizations, such as the American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors and Therapists (AASECT) or the Society for the Scientific Study of Sexuality (SSSS)—although some sexperts also join these groups. They either have a degree in or significant study of sexology (the academic study of sex) or are professionally trained in a relevant field, and from that jumping-off point have specialized and trained further so their expertise is informed by current study and research.
Experts: Dedicated Researchers
An expert has some sort of significant training, often academic or professional but sometimes involving research and becoming deeply informed about a sexual practice or topic. Not all expert professionals are sexologists: For example, the numerous medical doctors who dispense sexual information may have received no special training in sexual anatomy and functioning at med school; most doctors receive very little. In fact, Good Vibrations floor staffers receive many more hours of training about sexual diversity and practice than doctors-in-training do.
A good example of an expert professional who is assumed by audiences to have much more training than he actually does is Dr. Drew. Sexologists often listen to him and shudder when he presents assumptions and bias as fact.
Having a “Dr.” in front of one’s name is no guarantee of expertise, though this point is not well-understood in a society that has historically so revered the medical profession. Plus, it’s important to strategically understand an expert’s strengths: I might not ask a doctor specializing in women’s health about how best to do BSDM play, but I might hurry to her when I need more detail about sex and menopause.
But professional or other sorts of expertise sometimes truly do lead to a person becoming an unmistakable resource. Even before she received her degree in sexology, Betty Dodson knew more about women’s masturbation than anyone else by virtue of the countless hours she’d spent teaching her Bodysex workshops. Jim Bigelow has spent years investigating the practice of non-surgical foreskin restoration and knows much more about it than most physicians do. Joani Blank became the doyenne of vibrators. Alfred C. Kinsey started out counting the varieties of gall wasps and wound up learning more about human sexuality than any researcher had ever uncovered.
And the best example in our industry is Dr. Myrtle Wilhite, co-owner of A Woman’s Touch in Madison, Wis.: her medical degree and sexuality expertise together make her a unique resource for customers as well as her peers in the medical profession, for whom she is a go-to resource on, among other topics, women’s sexuality after cancer.
When Experience Becomes Bias
A sexpert’s knowledge base can be more focused than almost anyone else’s, but this brand of expert runs the risk of two serious gaps in knowledge. Too many sexperts begin their fascination with their own experience—absolutely not a bad thing, but sometimes this leads them to underestimate the degree of diversity and differing experience among their listeners. Not everyone enjoys the same sensations, responds the same way, is well-served by the same exercises.
Nearly 20 years ago I heard a sexpert opine that all women should learn to ejaculate. Cold (and not very sex-positive) comfort to a woman who has never successfully learned to do it and whose physical response might not even include that ability. (No science so far supports the idea that all women are equal in this ability.)
My favorite example of this type of sexpert gaffe is Sex and the City’s Samantha/Kim Cattrall, whose 2002 book Satisfaction: The Art of the Female Orgasm purports to teach any woman how to come. Non-orgasmic herself until in her 40s, she fell in love with a man who finally did her right; she assumed that this guy’s sexual skills could be charted and would work on any woman. (Perhaps the guy in question encouraged this belief.)
Rather than loan him out to all the ladies who needed orgasmic help, she wrote a book detailing his technique exactly, including diagrams. How awful must it have been for the couples who painstakingly tried to follow those directions, only to find no orgasm at the end of the rainbow?
Simple ignorance or downright bias about many elements of sexuality can also remain part of a sexpert’s repertoire. I recall reading an otherwise excellent Tantra book whose authors, apparently not back-door fans (or Tristan acolytes), made remarks so ass-phobic, they might as well have come from the mouths of Rick Santorum-level homophobes.
Just as women’s sexual experiences used to be very inexpertly addressed by many male “experts,” female sexperts often badly misrepresent male sexuality. Author Suzi Landolphi (whose qualifications for writing a book about sex came down to the fact that she’d done comic presentations about safer sex for college audiences) wrote in her first book that the penis has “two tubes,” one for semen and one for urine. Not only did she display appalling knowledge of anatomy, her editor apparently thought she was a real expert and did not catch the error.
A good sexpert knows what he or she does not know, and is always willing to state that his/her expertise does not encompass something. This is also true of a good expert or sexologist. Ideally, any representative from any of these groups will know who the real expert is when a question arises.
Another thing to look for when evaluating a sexpert’s (or expert’s) competence is respect for and acknowledgment of diversity—of orientation, experience, response, preference. Failure to understand that sexual experience is many-sided and many-splendored is a sign that your sexpert is no expert at all. While the ability to enthuse about a particular favorite sexual technique is great, it is not OK to make someone whose interests are different feel like a pariah or a pervert.
Hiring a Sexologist or Sexpert
There certainly are plenty of people in the business who don’t recognize their own shortcomings—who are so happy to simply have a platform to promote sex that they do not evaluate their own competence to write, speak and lecture. And there is no foolproof go-to source to determine who’s great and who’s not up to speed (though my non-profit, the Center for Sex & Culture, is on a path to potentially develop a certification process for sex educators, and AASECT has made an under-used certification available).
Good Vibrations has long advocated opening our doors to many presenters, so that customers can be exposed to many teachers’ perspectives; we sometimes let individual presenters know we don’t consider them up on the facts or have sensed a bias in their presentation (and if they don’t appear to listen to our feedback, we do not invite them back). To be able to offer this kind of feedback, we have Ph.D.s on staff in the form of our staff sexologist (that would be me) and our education director, Charlie Glickman.
Companies employing sexologists who have taken one certifying course (rather than an academic degree program), or who are members of a professional organization which accepts laypeople as well as credentialed professionals, generally cannot be said to have a true sexologist on staff. I hasten to say that this does not mean they have hired someone who knows nothing about sex. Many people attracted to the relatively new educational roles in our industry truly love sexuality, teaching and promoting a positive view of sex, and some do it very well. This does not, however, make them sexologists, any more than having sensible things to say about a friend having relationship problems makes them couples’ therapists.
Bottom line, having one or more people on staff, or invited in to speak, who can communicate comfortably about sexuality, pleasure, sex toys and techniques, and sexual anatomy—at least the basics—is a plus. But if those individuals are biased in some way, you must understand that, from a business perspective, they are doing a disservice to (and maybe insulting and alienating) some part of your customer base; I would not recommend you let such bias go unchallenged.
If your company is large enough to benefit from a sexologist, hire someone with a degree from a recognized program. For example, mine is from the Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality. A few other programs exist, such as the ones at San Francisco State University and Widener. If sexologists don’t have an advanced degree but have some years of professional specialization under their belts, you can check on their memberships and look for relevant experience on their resumes. If they have a bachelor’s degree (or less) and present themselves as a sexologist, it’s quite likely that they have heard the term used, like it, and don’t understand what it specifically requires in the way of specialization.
But some academic renegades do skip part of the drill and go right to their specialty, and it’s possible you’ll encounter a gifted one of those. Most sexologists, I must note, don’t seek employment with the adult industry—I probably wouldn’t have, either, but was already part of Good Vibrations before I got my Ph.D., and could see the ways my role there and my academic specialty could be integrated.
But these days, increasingly, sexologists are finding roles that associate them more closely with us. One reason is that we have come out of the shadows, and professional sex educators now see in our industry fertile ground for what they seek to do professionally: represent sex in its diversity, and teach.
If You Can’t Hire, Grow Your Own
If this isn’t a specialty for which there’s room in your budget, deputize your most intellectually curious and interested employee to read sex books; keep up with online resources such as CarnalNation, Sex in the Public Square, and the events calendar of the Center for Sex & Culture (SexAndCulture.org); and recommend presenters to invite.
If possible, utilize this person’s time on behalf not only of your customers, but also of your staff. Let your budding expert recommend authors and lecturers to invite; provide a budget to choose some informational and reference books for your staff. When inviting speakers in, query your staff and customer base for suggestions. Check authors’ reviews. Ask your colleagues. Join SSSS or AASECT and attend regional conferences to seek out people who have good presentation skills and represent good sources of information. Once word gets out that you are employing speakers and workshop leaders, many of them will find you. When they begin to seek you out, look at their resumes as you’d look at that of any specialist. Have they published? What’s their background? Talk to them about their specialty, use your intuition, and ask for references if you feel that would be useful.
There is now so much information about sexuality available in pop culture, not to mention among academics and specialists, that it’s tempting to think the industry need for sexperts, experts and sexologists is past. After all, before Samantha of Sex and the City wrote that book, she helped a lot of women find out about the Rabbit Pearl. But no matter how frisky they are with their cellphones, each new generation of young people hits adulthood burdened with bad sex education, and now, unlike their elders, these young adults are overwhelmed with myriad sources of information. Ironically, the trouble now is how to evaluate all that data, some of which is little more than noise. Be part of the solution, and support your business with knowledgeable teachers and lecturers who don’t misrepresent themselves and who can help you help your customers learn, have fun and explore.
Carol Queen is the staff sexologist for Good Vibrations. She has a Ph.D. in sexology and has written or edited 11 books about sex. During her nearly 20 years at Good Vibrations, Queen developed the infrastructure of the company's noted education department. She is a frequent lecturer and media consultant who's been quoted in countless publications and frequently featured on TV and in documentaries. She's a former board member for the Free Speech Coalition and a current board member for the Woodhull Freedom Foundation and is founding director of the Center for Sex & Culture in San Francisco. In July, she was the first recipient of the Outstanding Achievement Award at AVN’s inaugural O Awards ceremony.
This article originally appeared in the October issue of AVN.
