Respectable Promiscuity

Rebecca Reyes

Ahlm, Jody. “Respectable promiscuity: Digital cruising in an era of queer liberalism.” Sexualities, Vol. 20, No. 3, 2016, pp. 364-379.

Summary:

In the age of technology, when dating apps are widely used as an alternative to physically going out and meeting someone, how does one maintain respectability on apps that have a reputation for promiscuity? Jody Ahlm discusses the ways in which Grindr (a gay dating app) has been used, is being used, and how the perceptions of those that do/do not use this app are affecting/reaffirming the stereotypical identities of the LGBT community, and how the community fights back against the stigma. During the AIDS epidemic, the gay community received a large part of the blame because of their “promiscuous” and “hypersexual” practices. Bathhouses, random hook ups, public sexual acts, etc. were all acts that contributed to this epidemic and were all acts that were primarily committed by the queer community, or at least, that’s how the public made it seem since it was a highly heteronormative society. The reputation of promiscuity has led the gay community to aim towards an image of “appearing just like them (heterosexuals) through sexual moderation, monogamy and the disavowal of deviant sexual subcultures” (366). With apps such as Grindr, this makes it very difficult for the LGBT community to release themselves from this stigma. Ahlm interviewed Grindr users to get insight into their perceptions of the app and what exactly it is used for. Now, for anyone that has ever heard of Grindr or Tinder, we usually refer to it as the hook-up versions of eHarmony. Whereas eHarmony is meant for meaningful and long-lasting relationships, Grindr is viewed as just a place to find casual sex. Interviewees made sure to share with Ahlm how panic sets in when the Grindr ringtone goes off in public because they know that what everyone is thinking is not always true—that they are setting up a sexual encounter. Many users, in fact, do not even use Grindr for that reason. With options such as “Networking” and “Friends Only,” the app is really a social site for the building of all sorts of relationships, platonic and sexual. Tinder, the heterosexual version of Grindr, is very much the same but does not have the same promiscuous reputation as Grindr. Throughout the article, Ahlm analyzes the ways in which users communicate with each other in order to maintain a certain identity to the offline world and within those in the app. Although the LGBT community has scaled their way towards acceptance, “this acceptance is conditioned on creating a public image of group maturation where being gay is no longer associated with a sexual culture” (376). However, isn’t that just assimilating to the heteronormative framework that this community is working against?

Response:

Within the article, Ahlm interviews users to discuss the ways in which others perceive their identity because of this app. For one, Grindr does have many users who are looking strictly for sex. However, it is not always the case. Before I read this article, I always thought of this app as a hookup app. My brother, who is gay, has shown me conversations and images of users that did not really lead me to think otherwise. However, the Grindr community is a place more than for casual sex. There are people looking for friendships, networking opportunities, etc. For instance, the author of this article created a profile purely for the purpose of research. In contrast to the paper bulletins, the creation of a profile yielded a better response and participation. However, while the app offers more than just a hook up, the app does not really advertise its uses further than the reputation it currently has because of its limitations. I do not have this app and other than seeing what my brother has shown me, I have pretty much zero knowledge on it, so forgive me if I am getting any of this wrong for those of you who may use it. But the profile does not really give users a chance to add details about who they are further than height, age, race, a small text box, and profile picture. In my opinion, this seems to be the reason why its reputation as a hook up app has remained.

The most interesting thing about the article was the private/public boundaries that the community encounters with this app. Prior to its creation (such as during the 80s), looking for a potential mate was called “cruising.” It was a purely public act. You went out to a bar or club, store, etc., and you went up to a person and tried to get them to like you. Now, the app gives the appearance of someone being on Facebook, looking up something online, etc. Unless someone is peering over your shoulder, you are just another person who is bored on their phone. Thus, the “cruising” has moved from public to private. Now, I found this interesting because of the identity that one creates on and off this app. For users who have lived long enough to have “cruised” in both ways, they say that younger people have lost their ability to just have a random conversation with someone at the bar. Making sex much more private, the app (for those that are just seeking sex) makes this once public act something more secretive. Because of that, the LGBT community is assimilating to the appearance of “sexual moderation” or “looking just like them.” However, straight or gay, it really just depends on the person. Promiscuity is not a trait of any one group. Grindr has its reputation and if more people are understanding of stigmas that have been wrongfully placed on groups of people, then maybe we can reach a point of respectable promiscuity.

Quotations:

“The stigma of promiscuity in gay male culture has roots in the respectability politics of internal responses to AIDS, as well as homophobic responses from outside the community, and continues to haunt discourses of gay male sexuality” (365).

“My argument is not nostalgia for the days of public cruising; rather, I attempt to lay out a case study for understanding how the social and historical context of users—their discursive and material conditions—affects how they perceive and use a technology” (366).

“But you still hear that sound and everyone’s like ‘Ahh, we know where you’ll be later’” (370).