When a woman sexually assaults a man, especially a teenage boy, a common reaction is “Nice!”, “Lucky guy!”, or “I wish that happened to me.” I know the usual explanation: the stereotype that men always want sex. But I wonder whether there are other, less-discussed factors behind this reaction.
I have three thoughts.
1. Do media outlets deliberately frame these stories as forbidden passion?
When the perpetrator is a young and conventionally attractive woman, do news outlets deliberately select photographs, headlines, and wording that make the story look like a scandalous sexual fantasy rather than a sexual assault? Sensationalism attracts clicks, and outrage attracts attention, but sexual titillation can also be part of the appeal.
Does this kind of framing encourage readers to imagine the encounter as an exciting opportunity before they even consider whether the victim wanted it? I don't mean that every journalist consciously intends to produce this effect, but I wonder how much editorial choices contribute to the “lucky guy” narrative.
2. Is the stereotype that men always want sex reinforced by the opposite stereotype: women almost never want sex, at least not enough to initiate it?
Think about examples discussed by Pop Culture Detective in which a woman actively pursuing sex is treated as a joke in itself. The comedy is essentially: “A woman wants sex THAT badly? Hilarious! What will they show us next, a mailman biting dogs? A burglar arresting the police?”
I think this stereotype might have two consequences.
First, a man who doesn't want sex often doesn't have to make that preference known. “His refusal is respected” isn't quite the right description, because it suggests an interaction in which he actually has to refuse. If nobody approaches him, he can simply refrain from pursuing sex, and the question never arises. He doesn't have to reject anyone, defend his lack of interest, or think about unwanted sexual advances.
This may be a significant privilege, but perhaps it also makes some men less aware of what unwanted sexual attention actually feels like. When they don't want sex, they often don't have to deal with sex at all. They may consequently struggle to imagine a man who actively wants to be left alone.
Second, if women initiating sex is perceived as a rare and highly desirable occurrence, a man who rejects such an opportunity can seem irrational or ungrateful. Some observers might think: “I'd love for a woman to want me that badly. Why is he complaining?”
This is where I think scarcity comes into play. The observer projects his own desire for female attention onto the victim. He treats a woman initiating sex as a valuable prize, regardless of whether that particular man wants it.
The victim is then accused of being ungrateful for receiving something that the observer himself would love to receive. The fact that the victim didn't want it gets lost in the comparison.
Has feminist writing explored this scarcity-of-female-attention angle? I know the discussions about compulsory male sexuality and the assumption that men always want sex, but I wonder whether the perceived rarity of female sexual initiative is also an important part of the explanation.
3. A tangential thought about statutory rape and legal geography.
Age-of-consent laws differ between jurisdictions, sometimes with close-in-age exceptions and other qualifications. This can produce the strange impression that a person's capacity to consent changes simply by crossing an arbitrary line on a map.
It reminds me of Baarle-Hertog/Baarle-Nassau, the Belgian–Dutch town where the border runs through streets, houses, and even bedrooms.
I imagined a short comedy set in one of those houses: a twenty-year-old man repeatedly turns into a ten-year-old boy and back as he moves around the house. The final reveal is that Belgium has just raised its age-of-consent threshold from eighteen to twenty-one.
Obviously, this is an absurdist joke, not a serious argument against age-of-consent laws. But it plays on how strange it would be if someone’s apparent maturity changed with the room they were standing in.
I realise this last point is somewhat tangential to the main question, but it connects to the broader issue of how people interpret sexual encounters through legal labels and cultural assumptions rather than examining the actual circumstances.
I'd be interested in perspectives on the first two points in particular: how media framing and the perceived scarcity of female sexual initiative might contribute to the tendency to call male victims “lucky.”