During a TA session last week, instead of talking about class or the problem set at hand, the conversation veered toward something much more interesting. The central question I was posing to the group of (fairly attractive) male athletes was, “Do you think people have sex at this school?” The resounding answer (from the people I had been told were the most sexually active on campus) was a resounding “Of course not.” The answer that stuck with me the most was, “If you’re sexually active, you’re kind of a dickhead.”
The Sexual Health Advocate (SHA) in me was shocked at the response. I had to challenge that idea a little. I responded, “Isn’t that a little … not sex positive?” Sheepishly, he qualified his response, “Well, it’s like, if you are a little promiscuous, and you’re communicating that to a person [that you’re having sex with], it’s theoretically fine. But at this school, it’s not seen that way.”
As an upperclassman at this school, I had seen evidence that his statement was true. My first year at Swarthmore, I was indeed promiscuous and faced reputational damage for being so open about my exploits. But is Swat uniquely prudish? One would think from the hoards of condoms in the lounges of every dorm that the answer would be no. From the tales of sexiles and neighbors making noise through thin dorm walls, people at Swarthmore are clearly having sex. So why does there seem to be a narrative that people aren’t? I know plenty of people who are having sex: queer sex, kinky sex, frequent sex. Still, it could be the case that I am self-selecting into groups that are just having more sex. My journalistic instincts kicked in, and I started doing what I do best: I started talking about sex.
Still, I had anecdotes both for and against the idea that Swatties are having sex, but I needed data. Want to know where I went digging? Remember that survey you took last year that took 30 minutes to complete? But don’t fret, I’m not interested in your specific data (nor do I have access to it). The numbers in aggregate tell a much more interesting story than your individual “dirty” little secrets.
What the Data Says
Statistics from the National College Health Assessment (NCHA) survey reveal what Swarthmore students already seemed to know: this school doesn’t have a hook-up culture. But the extent to which Swarthmore isn’t having sex might shock you. According to the stats, 45% of Swarthmore students have never had oral sex, 57% have never had vaginal sex, and 88% have never had anal sex.
Compared to national data, the number of people not participating in these sexual activities is slightly higher than national averages (Figure 1). The largest discrepancy is the 8.8% difference between the national average and Swarthmore average of people having vaginal sex. This could be for many reasons — one being that Swarthmore is significantly more queer than the average college (Figure 2). But more queer sex would be reflected (traditionally) in an increased amount of anal or oral sex; this is not the case, as the national averages for both of these activities remain higher than Swarthmore’s.
Why Doesn’t Swarthmore Fuck?
This could be the end of the story: Swarthmore doesn’t have a robust hook-up culture. But I wanted to know why. There seem to be three main reasons: 1) Swat marriages, 2) a broader trend of Gen Z having less sex than previous generations, and 3) fear of Swat-cest and slut-shaming. The combination of these factors makes having sex difficult at Swarthmore. I will go more in depth into each of these factors in the rest of the article.
Swarthmore is known for producing “Swat marriages”: long-term, committed student relationships. These relationships can start as early as the first year (or freshman year) and last … well, sometimes forever (about 13% — or 2,594 out of 20,041 — of Swarthmore alumni are married to other Swatties, according to the Alumni Office). Contrary to many myths about hook-up culture that permeate the media, getting together early and staying together for long periods is common. In fact, NCHA data shows that 71.1% of college students have sex with only one person over the course of a year. Swarthmore is virtually no different, with 71.6% of college students having sex with just one person in a year (Figure 3.)
There’s also a generational shift: Gen Z is having less sex than previous generations. This phenomenon was unpacked in the NPR podcast, “Gen Z is afraid of sex — and for good reason.” The highlights of the podcast suggest that Gen Z is having less sex not because they’re less horny, but due to fear imposed by improper education about consent, pornography issues, and possibly a lack of socialization during COVID. (I have further opinions about why Gen Z is having less sex, but that’s for another piece.)
But Swatties also have our own ecosystem of issues. Swarthmore, like many small schools, has a rumor mill that hits harder with a smaller student body. Every Swarthmore student knows that, at some level, their peers are watching them — not always in a sinister way, but people talk about other people. Sex is no exception. In my first year at Swarthmore, my partner had the phrase “sexual deviant” written on their door because we were having sex semi-regularly. I have heard from numerous female Swarthmore students that they have experienced being slut-shamed for sleeping with just one person. The 18.3% of people who have had sex with more than one person are a silent minority — discouraged by an environment that encourages more culturally conservative values.
Moreover, at a small school like Swarthmore, people seem less likely to hook up with someone because it limits the options they can feasibly (or ethically) hook up with later. Often called Swat-cest, it also plays a role in people’s decisions to limit the number of people that they are deciding to have sex with. For instance, if you hook up with someone on the field hockey team: BOOM, Swat-cest. The entire team is off limits now (hyperbolized, but you get the idea).
Whether the panopticon of peers at Swarthmore changes your personal decisions or behavior, participating in hook-up culture carries reputational risk here. Sexual liberation is often viewed as deviance within Swarthmore’s culture.
The quest for figuring out if Swarthmore has a positive sex culture yielded somewhat disappointing negative results. But that’s not the end of the story: it is true that Swarthmore’s sex culture is reflective of a larger system of sexual repression, but it is also being challenged by key people at Swarthmore. These people include, but aren’t limited to, SHAs, student wellness educators, the Gender & Sexuality Center, and now The Phoenix’s “The Garnet Letter” column, which will address sex, pleasure, dating, and all things taboo.
