Forbidden Fruit
Sex & Religion in the Lives of American Teenagers
by Mark D. Regnerus
Oxford, 304 pp., $25
Discussions and debates about teenage sex in America tend to generate more heat than light. Religious conservatives protest sex education programs that do not begin to influence our young people as much as the pornification of popular culture, even as secular progressives promote a Swedish-style model of adolescent "sexual health" that does not begin to reckon with the emotional import of teen sex, particularly for girls. Rarely do advocates on both sides of the issue--not to mention observers in the media--take a sober, honest look at what is really happening on the ground to our nation's teens in this domain of life.
Thankfully, Forbidden Fruit is that rare book that casts more light than heat. Indeed, Mark D. Regnerus's commitment to telling the truth about teenage sex in all of its gritty complexity leads him to a number of intriguing and surprising conclusions. In particular, his findings about religion, region, and sex are bound to surprise partisans, experts, and journalists alike.
In Red America, especially in the South, Regnerus finds that teenagers--particularly teenagers hailing from evangelical Protestant homes--are more likely to hold traditional beliefs about sex. Sex is supposed to be reserved for marriage. In the words of one evangelical teen, "Sex is [a] great gift that God gave [us] and so . . . I think it should only be used then, when you're married." But Regnerus also finds that, despite their avowed sexual traditionalism, Southern teens--including evangelical teens--typically end up losing their virginity before teens who hail from the North, particularly Jewish and mainline Protestant teens.
In Blue America, by contrast, teenagers--especially those hailing from Jewish and mainline Protestant homes--do not necessarily object in principle to premarital sex. As Clint, an 18-year-old mainline Protestant from Michigan, puts it, "There's no reason . . . that, you know, you should save yourself for marriage in every single instance. . . . You know it's, it's a situational thing."
But surprisingly, teens from the North (and, again, especially Jewish and mainline Protestant teens like Clint) are more likely to abstain from sex, despite their avowed sexual progressivism. Indeed, in spite of his flexible sexual morality, Clint is a virgin who reports that he is glad he hasn't found himself in "that situation"--that is, having sex--because it's "one less thing to worry about."
So what gives? Why are southern evangelicals more likely to give way to passion, and Northern Episcopalians and Jews more likely to put off sexual activity? Class and cultural differences are central to understanding these divergent patterns. Red state teens tend to hail from less-educated, working-class homes where childbearing at an early age is not a big deal and a long-term orientation to life is in short supply. Red state teens seem to feel as if they don't have much to lose if they give in to their passions--especially if sex occurs with someone they view as a potential marital partner. More generally, as Thomas Sowell has observed, the "redneck" culture of the working-class South does not foster restraint in general and, more particularly, in matters sexual. So this helps to explain why support for sexual traditionalism in theory coexists with premarital sex in practice.
By contrast, Regnerus observes that blue state teens from middle- and upper-class homes may be "sexually tolerant" but also "perceive a bright future for themselves, one with college, advanced degrees, a career, and a family." They view early and especially unprotected sex as a potential threat to their plans for the future. A sexually transmitted disease, and especially a teenage pregnancy, are the last things they want to have to confront at this stage in their life. And so blue state teens--especially mainline Protestant and Jewish teens from well-heeled homes--tend to delay intercourse, even as they dabble in oral sex and pornography at higher rates than their red state peers.
Because of their strategic orientation, when blue state teens do finally resort to intercourse, as most do before they turn 20, they are much more likely to rely on contraception than their red state peers, often with the winking or open support of parents and local educators. As Regnerus notes, "Unprotected sex is frowned upon in the new [elite] moral order of adolescent sexuality," precisely because such sex is seen as risky and irresponsible.
