Are you comfortable kissing with the lights off? What about kissing with the lights… on? Oh, and, with or without clothing? At the start of our first year at Vassar, we filed into unfamiliar classrooms and completed a questionnaire responding to various questions about our sexual preferences and boundaries. As if that was not bad enough, we had to share our answers with a group of complete strangers. While I walked away from this conversation unscathed, one kid in my orientation group had a particularly difficult time articulating his feelings about sex and intimacy—he answered “No” to every question and appeared uncomfortable during our group discussions, fidgeting with his hands and paying acute attention to his feet during the whole meeting. And he was certainly not alone in his discomfort.
A study done by the Kinsey Institute and Lovehoney in 2021 has recently been making its rounds in news articles, Substack columns and TikTok thinkpieces. The statistics gleaned in the survey and regurgitated by “sex-perts” clearly state this fact: Generation Z is not having sex.
According to the survey, “one in four Gen Zers have never engaged in partnered sex,” which has led several news outlets to conclude Gen Z has issues when it comes to sex and intimacy, from verbalizing their feelings—á la the kid in my orientation group—to actually doing-the-deed, so to speak. For many millennials peering down on younger generations’ sex lives—which, as Rolling Stone points out, is a somewhat creepy and “bizarre fixation”—this turn away from sex positivity is strange and unexpected. With Gen Z media frequently centering around sex in an open and sometimes raunchy manner (think “Sex Education” or “Big Mouth”), it is no surprise curious parties are scrambling to find explanations for Gen Z’s newfound sex aversion. The blame for this phenomenon usually falls onto one or a few of these things: technology addiction, Gen Z’s easy access to pornography, the epidemic of unwanted nudes, increased stress levels, mental health issues and… the rising tide of “Purity Culture.”
Originally popularized in the 1990s, Purity Culture is rooted in traditional Christian values and stresses the importance of retaining “purity” through abstaining from sex before marriage and evading the “temptation” of sexual exploration in your adolescent years. Many of the TikTok video essayists and 40-something sex journalists opining on Gen Z sex assert we are currently in a resurgent wave of Purity Culture inspired by the “trad-wife” movement and the rising religiosity and conservatism among younger demographics of people.
To get a real sense of whether or not members of Gen Z agree with the assessment that we are living in “Purity Culture 2.0,” I interviewed some of my classmates to ask them what they thought about the phenomenon.
Do you think Gen Z is more sexually conservative than other generations?
SG: “No! Not at all. I feel like sex is way less stigmatized in our generation, and, like, it’s something that I feel like I can speak about a lot and talk about a lot and joke about a lot, and no one cares that much. It’s not that serious. And I think, in other generations, it’s not something that’s allowed to be spoken about.”
SK: “I think I feel like a lot of my friends at home, at least—I’m from the South—are more sexually conservative than people here, rather than just also from previous generations. I feel like the way they talk about it is different than how we do—but I also think that it could be because of the whole sort of thing like… “Gen Z is going out less.” Like, staying in more and not partying.”
ND: “I guess it’s hard to say because I’ve heard, for context, that statistically we are less… sexually engaged. But I think within the bubbles of people I’m around, it doesn’t seem like that.”
How often do you talk to your peers about sex?
SG: “Honestly, quite often. I think it’s part of our regular conversation. It’s something healthy to talk about, and I also think it doesn’t have to be such a serious thing. And [my friends] don’t ever make me feel ashamed. However, I know who of my friends to divulge my sex business to and who I probably wouldn’t reveal as many details. But for the most part, most of my friends get all the NASTY details and no one really cares that much.”
SK: “Not that much. Maybe if I have a thing… or I have a person, then maybe. But not like, much.”
ND: “Pretty commonly, I’d say. It’s just, like, part of a casual discussion, so I’m never really aware of how much we’re doing it. It’s kind of a colloquial thing, almost. I don’t know anyone who I would discuss a sexual situation with who would try to make me feel guilty about it.”
AK: “Pretty often, lowkey. I feel like it’s because people take it a lot less seriously, in the sense that it’s not as big of a deal—to some people obviously. It’s a part of your life that you can talk to your friends about. But I mean I’m from LA, so I feel like I grew up in a pretty progressive city with my specific school and the friends I had, it was very normalized. But I’m very sure it would be different if I grew up somewhere else.”
After having conversations around the Vassar campus and reflecting on my experiences back home in Florida, I came to my own conclusions about Gen Z’s sex-phobia and the rising tide of Purity Culture in 2025: It is complicated. To say that, overall, an entire generation of people is less sexually progressive than generations before seems way too reductive. My problem with many of the articles I have read or the videos I have watched is that these millennials’ analyses lack nuance.
Many people from progressive areas such as Los Angeles or New York City had markedly different experiences with sex education and discussions than those who grew up in more conservative areas like Charleston, South Carolina or—in my case—West Palm Beach, Florida.
A Californian I interviewed, for instance, knew about her friend’s mom’s sex toys and frequently had conversations with the adults around her about self-pleasure without any shame attached. Meanwhile, a Southerner I interviewed never received a formal sex education and did not feel comfortable asking about the function of different sex organs until they were a junior in high school. While I do believe Purity Culture is on the rise amongst some Gen Zer communities, it is definitely not a prevalent idea amongst all people of our age.
Countless bloggers and essayists of older generations have posed the question: “Is Gen Z too ‘chronically online’ to have sex?” And, while I think there might be some validity to their inquiries, I do wonder whether the answer to this question is actually that millennials need to touch grass and, as Rolling Stone said, worry about their own larger problems “without concerning themselves with whether 17-year-olds are banging”… or, just comfortable kissing with the lights off.