One way or another, children learn about
sex at some point in the course of growing up. In our culture, which is rather
coy about sex generally and especially so when it comes to letting children know
what the whole big deal is, their curiosity is awakened long before adults deign
to actually give them any solid information to work with. Generally children
learn fairly early at least the simplest basics – the externally visible
anatomical difference between boys and girls and the fact that
grown-ups make babies (and this involves a man and a woman) – without
adults going into more detail. Their approximate peers (particularly the ones
slightly older than them) will tell them all sorts of garbled stories about it,
using I know something the adults aren't telling you as a piece of
one-up-manship that works just fine even if the alleged facts are wildly
inaccurate or, despite being true, grossly misleading. The sets of myths
they tell each other are, furthermore, split: the boys tell one another one set
of myths, the girls have their own; and what boys and girls tell each other is
even more confused and partial. The result is a remarkably effective recipe for
confusion.
Adults will eventually tell them a certain amount about the subject, too: if
they're lucky, this'll be an adult who's genuinely concerned to equip them to
understand the topic, not one who's trying to exploit their confusion for some
ulterior motive. Usually, the adults are a bit embarrassed about discussing sex
and children pick up on that; which both teaches them to be embarrassed about
discussing the topic and reinforces their suspicion that this must be a
Very Important Topic, thereby strengthening their curiosity. Some sub-cultures
feel that, beyond the very rough basics, the proper approach is
to educate children on a strictly need-to-know basis: stern rules forbid
doing anything that might actually lead to learning about the subject for
yourself and when we think you're ready to marry we'll tell you what else (we
think) you need to know. This ensures that children continue knowing
only the confused mess of what their peers have told them. A more liberal
approach is to tell childen, at about the point where they're hitting or about
to hit puberty, at least the biological details of what's different on
the inside, between boys and girls, and how baby-making is
done. Adults might also take the trouble to warn children about the emotional
turmoil that accompanies growing up, even if their attempts to do so aren't
generally much help.
The problem with all of this is that the whole process just encourages an
exaggerated conception of the importance of the subject. By all means, children
need to understand that it has some importance to it. They also need
to understand the biological facts – but it's counterproductive to teach
them to be embarrassed about it and they'd likely be able to use the knowledge
more sensibly if they weren't obliged to take it so seriously. So I propose a
different approach to the whole topic.
Growing Up
Humans are animals – mammals, to be specific – who've developed
some remarkably unusual things like language, culture and intelligence. Some
other animals do have some degree of these, but humans have taken them to
extremes, to the point where they dominate very nearly everything we
do. Consequently, we have to learn how to use these things well. Fortunately,
especially while we're young, we're very good at learning – which is why
kids get to go to school, while they're still good at it. We don't lose the
ability entirely as adults, but we're not as good at it as we were when
we were children. Helping children to learn everything they need to takes a lot
of work and providing food and shelter for them while they do so – and
thus are too busy doing so to be able to sort out their own food and shelter
– takes yet more time and effort.
Consequently raising children is burdensome. Humans are easilly smart
enough to understand that and learn that it's true before we're old enough to
actually bring children into the world. Consequently, if our intelligence was
allowed to actually run our lives, only very dumb people would have children;
and their children would be dumb, too. Any of our ancestors' contemporaries who
were dumb lost out to those who were smart, while those whose biology allowed
them to continue running on intelligence tended to avoid having children, so
both groups will have left relatively few descendants, compared to those of
their contemporaries who were intelligent but whose biology messed with their
intelligence just enough to trick them into having children despite the obvious
down-sides. This being so for every generation in turn, we're all descended
from the ones whose ample intelligence had a loop-hole in it – and so, our
intelligence has that same loop-hole.
That loop-hole consists of a bunch of instincts that make us want to do
things that are apt, if we go through with them, to lead to us being parents.
Which is a lot of trouble that you can easilly put off until you're well into
your twenties, or even later, so it's a smart idea to not let those instincts
trick you into any of this until you've got yourself economically well
established, so that you can actually cope with the burden of raising your
children. Since those instincts mess up intelligence, nature is kind enough not
to inflict them on us until we've had a decade (and some) to make the most of
our boundless capacity for learning. Until then, the instincts that encourage
curiosity and play are hard at work encouraging us to discover the world in
which we live and find out how to fend for ourselves. Those of our ancestors'
contemporaries who didn't learn those things weren't able to provide
their children with the victuals and shelter they needed whilst they
were growing up, so not only had grim lives (due to lack of food and shelter)
but didn't leave as many descendants as their contemporaries who did learn
– who are, consequently, our ancestors.
So, as you live through your second decade, prepare to be hit by a bunch of
instincts that may well make you very eager to get intimate with others –
typically, but by no means always, members of the complementary sex. Some of
you might experience the instincts differently: nature's more complicated than I
can explain in just a few paragraphs, so pay attention to where your
instincts are trying to pull you. Whichever way those instincts do pull, be
aware that it's often smarter to be amused by them than to obey them. Quite
apart from parenting, you may find you care – or those your instincts want
you to get intimate with care – about more than just the immediate
experience of that intimacy: those instincts are going to complicate your social
life. As a general rule of thumb, it's smart to get to know someone well,
socially, before allowing your instincts to have any greater influence than to
encourage you to get to know them.
It may sound a bit coy that I talk about instincts making you eager to
get intimate with someone: but actually that's a pretty literal description
of the greater part of what they do. If you do get intimate with those
your instincts are dragging you towards, those instincts will reward you with
some pleasure: and hijack your intelligence a bit, interfering with your ability
to think clearly about what you're doing and why. At the same time, while
you're off balance, it'll sneak up on you with a bunch of stronger instincts
that focus a bit more closely on the ulterior motive behind all thses
instincts. At each level of intimacy, your instincts make sure you like going
along with what your instincts suggest; and less subtle instincts trigger to
encourage greater intimacy. The up-side of all this, for you, is that it can
feel really nice; and sharing that experience with whoever else is
involved can really strenghthen the social bond between you.
There are downsides. The relatively widely discussed ones include becoming
parents and transmitting various diseases: both of those can largely be managed
by taking suitable precautions. Your instincts may tell you not to bother with
that – they're not as smart as you, so they don't see that you can wait a
few years yet to have babies; don't let them fool you. Still,
even with those precautions, there's a downside: in fact, I mentioned
it just a moment ago: it can really strenghthen the social bond between
you. I mentioned it first as part of the up-side, which it truly is
– provided the social relation it binds you to is healthy. It
works just as well to bind you into an unhealthy relationship, too: and
that can work out pretty badly. Getting to know each other well is a good way
to gain insight into which way such a relationship shall work out.
In any case, all of that will come along when it does: until then, rejoice
in being the most intelligent creatures known to science, enjoy satisfying your
curiosity – and don't let the preoccupations that make grown-ups dumb
distract you more than just enough to prepare yourself to cope with them when
your own dumb instincts start inflicting them on you, too. Until then, relish
the ease with which you can make sensible decisions and learn, as far as you
can, to distinguish good sense from distractions, wisdom from knowledge and
genuine affection from mere desire.
One way or another, children learn about
sex at some point in the course of growing up. In our culture, which is rather
coy about sex generally and especially so when it comes to letting children know
what the whole big deal is, their curiosity is awakened long before adults deign
to actually give them any solid information to work with. Generally children
learn fairly early at least the simplest basics – the externally visible
anatomical difference between boys and girls and the fact that
grown-ups make babies (and this involves a man and a woman) – without
adults going into more detail. Their approximate peers (particularly the ones
slightly older than them) will tell them all sorts of garbled stories about it,
using 
