#nudist sex
Now that I have shared something of a personal perspective on the interplay between nudity and sensuality, I would like to tackle another, more specific matter that lies more toward the intellectual “core” of the same topic: the broad question of why human beings ever opted to wear clothing in the first place, and how the answer affects nudism, in terms of socio-sexual relationships. To the initial question–why we wear clothing–there are answers that on the surface do appear quite evident. The first and most obvious is that of simple, functional concern: the environment. To be able to live in the diversity of locations to which we’ve spread across the globe, protection against the elements is a necessity in some cases. The second, less obvious answer to the question, is that some sort of oddly-compounded, out-of-control cultural imperative led to the commonplace situation in which clothing is required in almost all situations, even when it is functionally superfluous.
Regarding that second point, the perspective of traditional nudism goes something like this: it is entirely unnatural and antithetical to human nature to be required to wear clothing when it is functionally unnecessary to do so. Traditional nudists conclude that the requirement to wear clothing has been thrust upon us as a means or symbol of over-arching control and dominance. And, thus, the conclusion continues, the only “correct” and natural way to live is to refuse clothing and embrace universal nudity except when completely impractical. I may be over-simplifying things a bit, for the sake of making a point. In a nutshell, however, that is the gist of the argument offered by many mainstream nudists–at least among many that I have encountered, myself. And it is this argument that often gets cited when some try to claim that someone is not a “true” nudist unless they make every conceivable effort to be naked whenever possible. I, myself, agree with parts of this line of thinking, but not for all the same reasons that are advanced by traditional nudists, and I reach slightly different conclusions, based on a similar line of thinking.
My educational background is in anthropology & evolutionary biology, and it is from that basis which I build my own theories. To my mind, human behavior–and its consequences–only makes sense when viewed from the perspective of biology and evolution. Looking at human behavior without that fundamental insight, to me, is a lot like trying to explain planetary orbits without reference to Newtonian mechanics. Drawing conclusions on the basis of observations that seemingly descend no deeper than reactions to social norms or political ideas is not objective and prone to missing the real truth of the matter. I don’t claim to have “hard” data for my own observations, and nor am I attempting to present a thoroughly scientific, evidence-based argument, here. I just want to add what I hope to be a somewhat unique set of perspectives, and spark the fires of discussion, by offering an insight from the level of biology and evolution.
I’ll begin by pointing-out that primates in general, and humans in particular, exhibit social interactions that–compared to most other species–are, in fact, highly sexualized in nature. Sexuality and sexual partnerships play an enormous role (some would say the only truly important role) in the structure of many primate societies. Paleolithic evidence routinely indicates that early human societies placed highly amplified emphasis on sexual behavior and that sexuality was a key factor in social organization and survival modes. Our closest extant evolutionary relatives–chimpanzees–exhibit a nearly obsessive fixation on sexual behavior, with many individual chimps being observed mating several times per day and with multiple partners. Chimpanzee social structure is, also, very complex and deeply connected to sexual relationships and individual sexuality. Furthermore, chimpanzees exhibit a colorful diversity in their sexual behaviors, including homosexual and bisexual relationships, exhibitionism and voyeurism, masturbation, and even sexual fetishes.
The next key point regarding mammal species, and primates in particular, is that individual members are sexually-identified rather profoundly and almost exclusively by the visually-apparent differences between males and females. Mammals identify their sexual roles, and relate to their sexuality, almost solely upon the basis of the way an individual looks to the eye. In birds, for example, males generally exhibit colorful or flamboyant feather patterns (peacocks being the extreme example). In human beings, the visual differences between males and females are bound-up entirely in the very shape of our bodies and features. Unlike most other species, the very form of a female human body is (generally speaking) quite wildly different from that of males. Human female breasts, and the human male penis, for particularly notable examples, are almost comically exaggerated in size when compared to other mammals and even other primates. The human male penis is (functionally speaking) superfluously large by a factor of many times over, in relationship to body mass. No other species comes even remotely close to matching the human ratio in that particular category. Why would that be? One of the only reasons that makes evolutionary sense is that the visual component of human sexuality became so important that evolution has selected for humans that can quickly–by visual cue only–identify gender and trigger their libido. I.e., large penises make it abundantly, visually apparent who is who, and present an unmistakable cue to the libido.
To take this line of biological reasoning one step further, the fact that body form is the primary identifying sexual cue among humans represents a tantalizing clue in theories explaining why humans (quite uniquely) have almost no hair on their bodies. Why did we humans, in other words, contrary in many respects to other functional needs and the evolutionary direction of other primates, lose nearly all of our body hair? Many anthropologists believe that the answer may be fairly simple: we lost our hair so that the sexual display of our bodies would be more obvious and profound. It is easier to notice the exaggerated differences between male and female, and the unique features of each, in other words, if those differences and features are not covered-up by too much hair. Again, the visual component of our sexuality is so vitally important to us, as human beings, that hairless (nude) bodies have been selected by the very mechanisms of evolution.
No matter how you interpret these factors and theories, one thing is undeniable: we are very strongly oriented by our visual sensation, and that sensation is very much tied to our sexuality. Test after test illustrates that our libidos are initially activated almost entirely by what we see, not by what we hear or smell, or by seasonal timing and other environmental factors, as in the vast majority of other species on Earth. Nudity, therefore, plays an undeniable role in human sexuality. Our appetites for sex (or, at least, our appetites to experience sensuality) are influenced by the visual appearance of the extraordinary differences between male and female bodies. There may be outlying academic objections to the ways in which I have drawn that direct correlation, but I think that there is undeniable merit to the general argument I’m making. And so I’ll proceed from there with the socio-sexual consequences.
What does it all mean to us, now, in other words, in a modern societal context? If we reverse the clock–say–50,000 to 100,000 years, to a point at which human social structures were much less complex, we might find some interesting clues. 50,000 to 100,000 years ago, nakedness was almost certainly the norm for most of humanity. Humans as a whole were far more confined to specific climates; environmental or functional concerns did not yet dictate the general utility of clothing. Additionally, those human societies were most certainly as sexually prolific as modern chimpanzees. The two factors are correlated: general nudity among early humans is connected to their profligate sexuality. Nakedness presented a constant signal to all sexually mature adults that anytime was the right time to mate.
With virtually no controls or prohibitions regarding the activation of the human libidio, people were likely engaging in sex whenever, wherever, and with whomever they chose. As social evolution progressed, however, and humans began to rely more upon complex social order and technology, for survival and the development of culture, the prevalence of rampant sexual activity began to work against those goals. The functions of a complex society (the basis of which is the family) demand that there are some limitations placed upon the where, when, and with whom regarding sexual relationships. It is inconvenient, in other words, to have people copulating on the boardroom table in the middle of a meeting, and to have no ideas at all regarding which children belong to which parents. That just doesn’t work in the context of social order if what we wish to create is a culture in which we have the leisure time available for other pleasurable pursuits such as art, conversation, and scientific discovery.
And this, I think, is where the requirement to wear clothing has its ultimate roots. If our libidio is cued by the striking visual representation of our nude bodies and revealed sexual features, then it makes sense to refine and control that phenomenon by enforcing rules regarding the times and places we may opt to be totally nude. And at other times, varying types or degrees of clothing indicate to what degree sexuality is appropriate–sometimes it is somewhat appropriate, other times it is not appropriate at all. The further evolution of our species into our particular ecological niche (technology and culture) simply demanded that we occasionally put on clothing as a way to re-structure the social rules regarding sexuality.
All of which, to my mind, at least on the surface, makes complete sense. I, for one, appreciate complex social structure and the positive benefits of culture and technology. I would not want to eschew those benefits and revert to some theoretical, idealized notion of a “primal” state. Humanity is what it is as a product of evolutionary imperative and–for better or worse–clothing is an obvious component of that imperative. And that is why, even as a nudist, I have absolutely no problem at all with the idea that there are times and places where I most certainly ought to be dressed. I don’t think that clothing, nor the rules that require it are–in and of themselves–somehow “wrong” or oppressive. Those aspects of our societies are simple facts of life that need not be taken to task or questioned on their fundamental merits. As with all aspects of culture and technology, the debate is not over the thing itself but, rather, how it is implemented and used. One doesn’t say that a hammer is “good” or “bad,” but the way in which the hammer is used may be one or the other, certainly.
The problem with clothing arises as with so many other aspects of our complex societies: things do tend to spin out of control and go “haywire” (that’s a technical term, by-the-way) with the complexity of our rules and restraints. We tend to collectively forget about their original context and intent. People build-up monumentally disproportionate anxieties over them. Rules that otherwise make complete sense become tools by which those in authority can browbeat and manipulate disproportionately large groups of people to the detriment of society as a whole. We accept this manipulation through the development of artificial constructs such as religion and political ideology–both of which are intended to trigger feelings of shamefulness and regret. And the cycle feeds back upon itself, to the point at which, eventually, the rules and restrictions no longer have any valid meaning and must be modified or removed outright, to be replaced by something more sophisticated.
And here is where, I think, the role of modern nudism comes distinctly into play. It is also why I adamantly believe that the natural sexuality of social nudity should be not only accepted but thoroughly embraced. In modern American society, for example, we have a situation in which there are virtually no significant opportunities for people as a whole to be totally nude with one another in simple, casual, outdoor settings that are not somehow contrived for the purpose. We have token places & times set aside for the inconsequential minority of us that call ourselves “nudists” and demand that we be allowed the simple right of taking off our clothes with one-another, while enjoying the outdoors. But in a mainstream sense, we may as well say that there are essentially no clearly and broadly defined options at all for experiencing nudity as a means of social, and broadly socially-acceptable recreation. And that is not healthy–for society or the individual–for a large variety of reasons.
The evolutionary-dictated desire to be totally naked in one-another’s presence is there, in all of us. It is laying perhaps dormant or unacknowledged by most people, but it is there regardless and undeniably tied into our sexuality. To continually repress that desire results–probably (I’m no psychologist)–to all sorts of emotional and mental harm. It is probably responsible in large measure for the out-of-control sexual violence and sexism that is witnessed in most human societies. It is quite obvious enough, I think, that the strong, pent-up desire to be nude is present. Why else would we see the “retrograde” evolution of things like “barely there” bikinis, extremely revealing evening attire, nearly-nude costuming, etc. Clearly, people desire the opportunity to be nude with one-another, or, barring that possibility, as bare as legally possible. The rules that dictate our state of dress have become so onerous and unwieldy that our collective psyche has literally pushed us into a corner wherein our innermost, natural desires are fundamentally in conflict with the rules of society and with the confusing addition of religiously-based guilt and shame.
As an example, think for a moment about what is going-on when a woman attends a “topless” beach where the rules of behavior allow her to bare her breasts but require that she keep the pelvic area covered-up, as usual. She opts to wear the briefest of brief “thong” style bikini bottom, barely meeting the legally minimum standard of hiding her genitals from view. What is going-on inside this poor woman’s head? She is confronted with a situation in which she is given the go-ahead to be almost totally nude in public, but a bizarre confluence of legalism and contrived moral constraint dictate that she should be guilty about the pride she might otherwise experience if free to bare the specific part of her body that makes-up such an important part of who she actually is. The message sent is terribly confusing: a twisted combination of socially-acceptable sexual representation, on the one hand, and repression and shame on the other hand.
To me, nudism presents a very simple means by which we may untangle this seemingly hopeless pattern of criss-crossing contradictions. The plain fact that humans desire the opportunity to be nude together is more than ample reason to make nudity a pervasive option in most recreational settings–the beach and other recreational waterways, public parks, the wilderness, and other designated locations and times. At the same time, however, I would also state that it should be equally important for us, as individuals, to radically relax our attitudes regarding the very reasons we enjoy being nude with one-another so much. What I hope to have illustrated, here, is that human sexuality is deeply and fundamentally connected to nudity, and that there is absolutely nothing whatsoever–in and of itself–wrong with or harmful about that notion. I believe that it is as unhealthy to hold onto inhibitions around our sexuality as it is to hold onto those that make us so afraid and ashamed of our bodies in the first place. Sexuality is an enormous part of who we are, and we should feel entitled to own that aspect of ourselves and enjoy it for what it is–without shame, guilt, or undue repression.
This doesn’t have to mean that we immediately run to the other end of the spectrum and go “all in” with the concept, pushing ourselves back 50,000 to 100,000 years, to the point where nudism is presented as an opportunity for free-for-all, rampant, lewd sexual encounters. What I, personally, am proposing here is absolutely nothing of the sort. I believe that many, probably most of the rules we have in place regarding the public/private boundary for sexual behavior are sound. I merely wish to open-up our attitudes about feeling guiltless over our desires to experience sexuality, incorporate the joys of sexuality with the experience of being naked, and enjoy healthy, active sex lives.
Happily so, we have evolved past that point of our chimpanzee relatives, and have more satisfactory ways of being in touch with our sexuality than merely having sex constantly. Our sexuality is much more subtle than that, and it is why most of us feel an instinctual revulsion to uninvited sexual advances, pronounced sexual deviance & invasiveness, and profligate sexual activity in general. Gratuitous sexuality, so far as sophisticated individuals are concerned, does not sit well with us. And that’s what makes nudism so special, to my mind: it is the combination of engaging with our innate desires while simultaneously applying a natural and heartfelt restraint that makes it so enjoyable. The suggestion of sexuality and erotica exists without the need to blatantly advertise it or even fully engage with it. There is a deeper level of feeling to be experienced by keeping certain rules in place; by maintaining decorum and personal space.
Again, thanks for reading, and I do hope to hear from all of you again, especially those that wish to disagree and make counterpoints. Message me privately if you’d like. I am skytigress-at-outlook-dot-com.
