Below you’ll find all of the sex toy reviews I’ve written at Of Sex and Love. Find my opinions on vibrators, dildos, media (sex education books, porn, DVDs and erotica), bondage and BDSM gear, lingerie, anal toys, lube, massage products, and more!
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Before I can get on with my review, I need to apologize to Dame. The company sent me this toy years ago, and I completely dropped the ball when it came to writing about it. That was unprofessional of me, and I need to do better.
But even though Pom is no longer new, it’s still worth talking about. That’s because some really thoughtful design decisions went into it. It’s obvious.
This is no white-label toy on Amazon. This is no stolen product design copied cheaply in a Chinese factory to make a quick buck. This vibrator, even though it won’t work perfectly for everyone, stands apart from the rest. It’s the type of product someone should be proud to put their name on–or associate with their face.
And that’s because Dame has quickly become one of the most reputable companies in the sex toy industry. I don’t need to hunt to find information that I can trust. Dame’s website clearly shows the trajectory of the company, which was founded by Alexandra Fine Janet Lieberman, and leveraged crowdfunding to get off the ground.
There’s a lot to like about Dame, just like there’s a lot to like about Pom.
So, let’s get down to it, starting with the strength.
Thanks to its magnetic charging connections. This is pretty common these days, even with cheaper toys, so Pom doesn’t stand out quite as much as, say, Fun Factory’s first magnetically-charging toys. But it’s nice.
It’s not silent, but the lowest setting makes almost a barely-there hum. Would I use it in a dorm with a roommate? Nah. Would I use it behind closed doors, knowing something else was home? Sure!
I know because I forgot about mine for that long.
It’s quite squishy, really, and it’s what put the flexibility in this flexible vibe. The silicone has a lot of give when you squeeze it, and you can bend the tip a bit. Some people may prefer a rigid toy, but plush silicone means I can grind it into my body without and discomfort. Not like I’ve ever done that before…
Many clitoral vibrators are narrower. They’re also usually horizontally and vertically symmetrical. Pom is wider at the base than the tip, which promotes comfort. The base sits perfect in my palm while my middle and index fingers slip around the narrower front.
Typically, I like clit stimulators with a large nub than Pom has, so I wasn’t expecting much. But the vibrator surprised me because it’s not so much the size of the bump but the shape. You see, it forms a vertical ridge that easily slips between your lips to target your clitoris. Mind blown.
And my favorite thing of all..
I mean, it’s no wand, but they’re surprisingly rumbly for such a small package. I was beginning to think that I had been out of the game for so long that I was misremembering clitoral stimulators with deep vibes. The ones I’ve tried recently, even wands, have been disappointing.
But Pom reminded me that depth is possible. And in my opinion? It’s non-negotiable.
These strengths aren’t without limitations, however.
That thick, plush silicone? Mine is now ~customized~ with cat chew marks. It’s exactly the type of material that attracts cats–and their fur. Alas. At least I have a purr-manent moment to remember my late kitty by.
It will also attract your fur. Consider yourself warned.
Pom’s width is accompanied by flatness. It’s closer to, say, Lily than Laya Spot. I wish it were wide and tall.
I’m also not super enthused with their buttons. Dame has placed the power button, which is inset, directly on top of the toy. Hold to turn on. This same button cycles through settings.
There are two more buttons on the bottom of the toy, essentially a plus and minus. The “plus” sticks out from the toy and increases strength. I find it a bit small and sometimes hard to find during use. On the other hand, the “minus” is flush with the dimple where the toys sit. It’s visually a bit confusing but more intuitive in use.
The problem with this “minus” button is that if you press the Pom to your body hard enough, you will turn down the strength. Talk about killing the vibes. (For those paying attention, it means holding the Pom fully against your body means you can’t access the plus button, either).
And I did it multiple times in one session. I still got off, but, man, that’s a bummer. I think it would actually be harder to do with a raised button like the other one because the pressing area seems so wide.
Similarly, I sometimes found myself accidentally pressing the top button while using it. This isn’t exactly Dame’s fault. I have almost also struggled to find a place to apply pressure with my fingers without hitting the buttons or making them inaccessible.
Ultimately, Pom’s flatness led to a lot of strain on my fingers, which are now sore as I type this review. Again, not their fault, but I do think there’s something that could be done.. if toy makers wanted to. Like a wider, more rounded top of the toy. Y’all know I liked the Tuyo.
With that said, I mostly forgive Pom its trespasses against me because the vibrations are so high quality. They just feel.. nice. good, even. Not tickly, not annoying, not frustrating.
And that makes me hopeful for the rest of Dame’s toys.
Heidi, Heidi, Heidi. Where do I start with you?
In the realm of clit vibes, Heidi most reminds me of the BCurious, especially the premium version. I have only used the original Bcurious, which was rigid (and not satisfying), so I can’t compare Heidi to the newer (and since discontinued) premium model, which appears to be made from a softer silicone.
Heidi itself has a thick, softer layer of silicone on it. It’s not nearly as squishy as Dame’s Pom, but it’s nice. There’s give in the tip, and it can bend forward or backward.
The buttons are bubbly and large, easy to find. They audibly click when you press them.
But, you see, as soon as you press that power button, you’ll wish you didn’t.
I wish I hadn’t started with Heidi at all.
Because once it turns on, there’s a quick and loud vibration. It’s jarring. And it’s buzzy and shallow as hell.
And it doesn’t get any better.
I guess I should have known. The (terribly translated) description mentions “High frequency vibration drives.” We. don’t. want. that. in. our. sex. toys.
Honestly, I can’t tell if Heidi’s design is good because the vibrations are so buzzy that I couldn’t possibly enjoy it. Initially, they tickle annoying. It doesn’t take long before I can’t feel them at all. No bueno.
All of this while the toy fills the air with an unacceptably loud roar. I guess it’s not loud enough to hear through a closed door, but it feels like a freaking assault when it’s in your hand.
I had to give up on Heidi. It was almost torture to use it. It offends the senses. No waterproofing, no soft silicone, no pretty mint green, no rechargeable battery, and no poetic metaphors will make it better.
High frequency vibration drives the body to work, impacts the soft inner wall, and the tremor C point attracts the clouds and tides to achieve a unique experience.
The secret comes from the strong frequency vibration. Different experiences also need a strong core to provide continuous motivation. For many girls, not having enough fun is downfall. It takes a lot of effort from the inside to the outside to please women.
After 365 days of experiments, we have finally developed a lovely dolphin with smooth curve. Time we roam together, love let you release at this moment. To a mutual tease, such as glue two people in the world.
Tonight, I just want you, in the twilight, in the halo of glass, in the mountain language and waves, with Heidi to explore and lead us to release our nostalgia for the spring breeze.
I’m sorry, Heidi, but I don’t want you. Not tonight, not ever. Not to roam or stay in one place. And there certainly won’t be any release.
You couldn’t pay me the $54 price tag to use it again.
P.S. – Don’t call us “girls.”
P.P.S. – What the hell is the weird symbol on the side?
Funzze Finger Vibe
$29.99
from Funzze
My first impressions of the Finger Vibe came when I saw the box. It was small. Really small. Surely I hadn’t been looking at something that small, had I? But I was. Apparently, I wasn’t looking that closely.
My second impression was that the dark blue-green of the Finger Vibe in matte silicone is gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever owned a toy in this specific shade. There’s also a shiny heart shape that, as far as I can tell, exists only to be pretty and make this toy difficult to photograph lol. Overall, the entire design is pleasing to look at, and I think it is easily one of Funzze’s most attractive toys.
But how does it perform?
The Finger Vibe fits easily between two fingers thanks to the contoured “wings.” Unlike the Mini Marvels line, which had painfully small and rigid finger slots, these are flexible, so they will fit a variety of fingers. They fit well over mine, and I can hold the vibe up without even pinching the center of the wings with my fingers. There’s a potential that the wings won’t offer coverage for someone with really big fingers, but you can still pinch the center to hold it.
The gentle curve naturally fits within your fingers, allowing you to position it wherever you’d like and move it naturally like you’d move your fingers. I think the size probably helps here– less than 3 inches long and only 1.3 inches wide. Ideally, this means placing the bulbous bottom over your clitoris (or other sensitive spot). I really appreciate how far this protrudes because clitoral stimulators that are too flat on the bottom almost universally fail at stimulating the clitoris!
The biggest drawback of the Funzze Finger Vibe might be the small size. While that bulb offers clitoral stimulation and the wings keep it in place between your fingers, the small size requires a small motor. And the vibrations of this toy are rather weak and buzzy, the type that you know will only be less impressive as you increase them. They’re barely there, honestly, especially after using it for a while. The additional vibration patterns offer little because of this. However, if you’re more sensitive to vibrations, you might not mind, but anyone who needs depth and power should look elsewhere.
The size ultimately fails to provide the pressure I need and prefer to get off. If you like to simply hold vibrators against your body, it might work for you–if the weaker, buzzier vibrations aren’t an issue. But a larger toy is better for relieving discomfort on the fingers when you need pressure, as I do. In fact, if this toy was closer to the size of a full hand–something closer to the Playboy Palm, perhaps–it would be far more comfortable to use. As it stands, my fingers became incredibly sore and cramped while trying to achieve the pressure I needed, and there was no payoff to show for it.
You could potentially use it to stimulate a penis by using a healthy dollop of lube, which is necessary for movement because the silicone has a fair bit of drag, and running the toy along the shaft on one side and using your thumb on the other side. Or you could hold it against the base of a penis while you go down on it. Either way, the small size and finger holders that allow you to use your hand naturally could work for this.
The small size might work for people who want to use this during partnered sex. Holding the toy won’t take up much more room than using your fingers alone. Plus, the soft wings will press down under pressure, and I think you could comfortably place this vibrator between your bodies as long as your entire weight isn’t pressing down on your partner’s body. However, I haven’t tried this.
I wouldn’t call it whisper quiet, either. There’s a whistle/whine on all but the lowest setting. Add some white noise or music, and you could get away with using it while someone’s in the other room through a closed door. But there are stronger and quieter clitoral vibrators out there.
One of the biggest cons of this toy is the single button. There’s just not a lot of room for buttons, so I understand the choice not to use more than one. Yet, I cannot forgive the placement choice. Putting it toward the front/nose of the toy doesn’t give you the leverage to press the button while your fingers are under the wings, so I find myself having to remove my fingers and stop using the toy to push the button. This is a great opportunity to place the button on the side where your thumb could press it or to employ some sort of pressure mechanism instead. Pressing the toy harder to your body would increase the vibrations. That would solve the issue of pressure!
When pushing the button, there’s an audible click, which I appreciate. However, the button slightly recesses into the toy when pushed, which could be an issue for those with long nails or large fingers. I think most buttons would be better raised from the toy to make them easier to use for everyone. But this is far from the worst physical button function I’ve ever used. On the other hand, the single button means you need to cycle through the nine modes every time. I’ve found this is the case with all the Funzze toys I’ve tried. If you want to get back to a setting, you need to go through all the vibration settings, and sometimes, turning it off to start from the base setting is faster! Frustrating.
On the opposite end of the toy from the button, are two magnetic contact points for the charger, similar to Fun Factory’s chargers. Thanks to this, it’s completely waterproof. However, I can’t imagine that you’d want to use it in the shower because the water hitting your body would compete with the weaker vibrations. But you can easily clean the Finger Vibe with soap and water without having to protect any ports. Once clean, Funzze includes a silky storage pouch for your Finger Vibe. That pouch can then go in your nightstand, sock drawer, or maybe even in your bedframe or between your mattress and box spring! It would also be a great option for travel because it’s so small and light.
Funzze includes a USB charging cable that requires an adapter or USB port to charge. It’s fairly short, around two feet. I think most of us would want something longer. The light around the button blinks while charging, and although it’s a pretty green, I didn’t even notice it during use.
The last thing included with the vibrator is a single page of instructions, which is fairly easy to miss, lose, or toss. It almost feels like an afterthought. I didn’t even look at it before trying the Finger Vibe and have since misplaced it, so I’m unsure about the time it takes to fully charge the toy or how long the toy will work while fully charged. These are often just guesses that aren’t super close in practice, so I’m not super concerned. This vibrator comes charged, anyway.
Where does this leave us? Unfortunately, with a gorgeous and affordable vibrator that does some things really well but mostly failed to impress me. At $30, it’s not the end of the world if you try it and don’t like it, but I’d rather push people toward more expensive items that perform better.
Febos
$81.99
from Honey Play Box
It happened with my very first rabbit.
And, now, I can add the Febos by Honey Play Box to the list.
Which is a shame because I enjoyed the silicone’s velvety texture on the handle and head. The quieter motor was an upgrade to the massager I use most frequently. Or the Hitachi. You could use it with someone in the other room. The product description says it’s around 50db (and I do love that they include that info!), which Google assures me is about the hum of a “quiet refrigerator.” Do with that what you will.
It certainly looks nicer with its grey and silver color scheme. It’s modern and perhaps minimalistic. But it doesn’t need to look fancy. For that, Honey Play Box offers Stormi, which comes with gold details and its own magnetic charging case.
The flexible neck is also a necessity. And all of this on a rechargeable battery that never lost power despite me not charging it out of the box (I didn’t get a chance to charge it before I broke it)?
Yeah, it was looking promising.
I used it a time or two with fairly positive results. I enjoyed the flexibility of the neck, which is a must with a straight handle like this. I’ve really been spoiled with the Miracle Massager, I guess. That’s ultimately how I broke Febos. But I prefer a flatter head like I’m used to. Most heads are round, however, and at least it’s not weirdly spongey like the Magic Wand Original.
I also got to experiment with a wand with more than just “high” and “low” settings. Febos has four other pulsation and escalation settings. The fast pulsation feels especially nice due to the depth and strength of the vibrations. Each setting is also available in three speeds. Some people might want something weaker or stronger than it offers, but unless you know you need the extremes, this wand will likely cover your needs.
I see two complaints that some people might have:
Those critiques might not matter if you like the power of this massager. It’s also got one big selling point: unlike most other wands I’ve used (I guess save for Lelo’s Smartwand), this one is waterproof. That’s only possible thanks to the cordless design. Truthfully, it may be
But I’m not much for playing in the shower, so I kept it boring and only used it in bed.
So how did I break it? I was pressing the head against my body and pulling the handle away from it, which put too much pressure on the neck and head. I feel something give.. just a little. Then I heard it crack. Now it turns on, but it can’t vibrate fully. It almost sounds like something is just out of place.
It’s what happened with the Rabbit Habit (but I liked it enough to buy another), and the Symphony G-Harmony. In fact, I didn’t even remember breaking the second one until rereading my review. But it’s all because of the same desire to get pressure. (Technically, one of my Icicles glass dildos also broke but that was an accident and likely due to poor design, not my pubic bone.) At least it’s been over a decade since I last broke a toy!
Honestly, this is such a me problem that I can’t even hold it against the toy. And Honey Play Box has a 100-day risk-free guarantee. If you don’t love a toy or if it doesn’t work right, they’ll refund you.
Currently, Febos is less than $60 with coupon code OFSEXANDLOVE or just bny using my link, which, honestly, seems like a steal. And it’s enough to get you free shipping. Otherwise, you’ll pay $81.99 fullprice, which is still pretty competitive.
JOPEN Pavé Grace
$48
from Amazon
I’ve been at this a long time, but sometimes something happens that reminds me just how long. Like sitting down to write this review of a Jopen toy and realizing that I’ve reviewed a vibrator from what I considered to be a new brand 11 years ago. 11 years ago. 11. years. ago. Eleven.
So I guess it’s time to give props to CalExotics for keeping their more premium line/sister brand going. It’s also time to go through my past reviews to fix some images and links, but that’s neither here nor there.
Jopen’s current offerings are more varied than the purple duel stimulators they started with. You can not buy a variety of clitoral, internal, and anal vibes from the line, although they have dropped the Comet vibrators and dildos, which many people (not me) loved.
The company is attempting to differentiate this line with touches of glam, which has resulted in the four current lines: Pavé, Amour, Starstruck, and Callie. Each line comes in its own color variations, and I have no complaints about the Pavé Grace’s light mint/teal color. I wasn’t swayed by the faux crystals; I just wanted to try another clit stimulator.
The faux crystals don’t necessarily look great in photos, and they’re not better in person. There’s also the potential for them to collect fluids. You might think that the top of the vibrator is less likely to come into contact with those, but the gem is actually a button that cycles through functions and powers on the toy, so you don’t want a lube or cum-covered finger sliding around that.
The placement of the gems forced CalExotics to get creative because this is where many toy makers would have placed the intensity controls. The result is something that is accidentally genius. I’ve raved about it before, and I’ll say it again: the controls on the side edge of Grace are intuitive to use, and more companies should take note. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like CalExotics has realized what they’ve discovered because the only other vibrator with a side button is the Chic Violet. I think it’s only designed like that because it has a grip on the top, preventing the buttons from being placed there. These aren’t even the only buttons on the toy, which is a shame.
Side button placement should be standard. It just makes sense. We’re used to the volume buttons on the sides of our phones, and many remotes now follow suit. I don’t think sex toys should necessarily take after smartphones, but I do think that placing controls there naturally takes advantage of our thumbs, which often don’t do anything while using toys. If you happen to hold the Grace in your left hand, as I do, the controls are easily pressed with your index finger, which still works pretty well.
The buttons are small, however, and even though they’re embossed, I prefer something a little more obvious. It might not be as chic, but I’m all about function over form at this point. Fortunately, there’s a nice clicky feedback when you press the buttons. I wish they weren’t quite so close together, however.
I mentioned that the gem is a button, and you need to hold it down to power the toy on or off. Each setting has 5 speeds, controlled by the buttons on the side. They start on the lowest setting. If you keep pressing the gem, you’ll cycle back through all the settings. Its first setting is steady vibration that’s fairly powerful for the size of the toy but not super deep. They quickly turn uncomfortably buzzy when you increase them (with the side buttons) however. Page through the other 7 settings, and you’ll find pulsation, escalation, and combinations of both. These settings have personally never done much for me, and Grace’s buzzy vibrations aren’t about to change my mind on that. It’s not that it’s awful per se, especially when compared to some similar toys, but it’s not my preference.
I think Grace is probably a little loud for its power output. It won’t wake the neighbors or even the roommates, and pressing it against your body (or using it under the blanket of with the shower on) can muffle some of the sound. But it’s definitely not whisper quiet. Of course, this is rarely an issue when you love the feel of the vibrations.
The rest of the toy’s design is.. okay. I think a lot of similar clit toys are too flat along the side that makes contact with your body. I wish the Siri, for example, was more convex than it is. I always wind up using my fingertips to press toys against my body because they’re not pronounced enough. That’s why I enjoyed the Laya‘s shape. Grace has a slightly more defined nub along the bottom, which is good, but it could have been.. more.
Grace is covered with a semi-soft silicone. At the edges and edges, there’s some give. This includes the nub, and might be a selling point for people who don’t like rigid toys, which a lot of clit vibrators seem to be. It’s the type of silicone that has a ton of drag and collects lint like crazy, however. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
The package touts Grace’s water resistance, and the charging port is a self-closing hole in the soft silicone, so I think it’ll do fine. For lint magnets like this, being able to withstand a full rinse is a must. Speaking of the charger, it slides right into the port with ease, something that doesn’t always happen with toys that use the hidden port design. I enjoy that I don’t have to fuss with it, and an LED by the side buttons and glows red to indicate that the toy is charged and also lights up. When the toy is on, the light glows white, which is not necessary but acceptable.
I think “acceptable” might be a good word for this toy. It’s certainly not the worst. It will get the job done, perhaps with a little effort. A lot of people will probably be content with grace, especially at its price point. Amazon has it for less than $50, although that’s below MSRP. With so many premium brands selling their toys well over $100 and other affordable toys disappearing the price might be what pushes people to buy Grace. I can’t really blame them, but I can wax nostalgic about a time when strong, deep, clitoral vibrators didn’t break the bank.
Thanks to Vibrators.com for sending me this to review, although my review took long enough that they no longer carry the Grace.
Fun Factory Laya III
$109
from Fun Factory
I cannot believe Fun Factory has released three new versions of the Laya, and I have yet to wax poetic about its meaning in my life.
So why don’t I do that?
I have fond memories of using the original Laya Spot while sprawled sideways on my oversized armchair as Family Guy played in the background. I was in my San Antonio apartment, which I shared with my then-husband, who was, at the time, deployed. It was a difficult time in many ways, but I had my cats and a few trustworthy toys to get me three. Indeed, that was the year when I discovered I could squirt.
Much has changed since then: my relationship status, my pets, my location, and my education level, to name just a few. How often I use sex toys is also not the same. As it turns out, Fun Factory’s “lay on” vibrator isn’t the same, either. If you can believe it, they’re now on the fourth version of the Laya, although it’s the Laya III because one was just an iteration of the Laya II, which I had things to say about.
Laya III is a noticeably different toy from these previous options. The new light teal (which Fun Factory calls “Sage Green” but is definitely not) or lavender options remind me more of the original’s colors than either of the Laya II revamps. Folks might not remember, but the Laya Spot came in a variety of dual-color combinations. It was fun, if not financially feasible in the long run. However, Fun Factory has done away entirely with the contrasting side panels, instead opting for an allover color. This makes it a seamless toy, however.
Another change comes in the texture, which is now diagonally ribbed along the top and sides of the toy–everywhere but the place where it will make contact with your clitoris. To be honest, I’m not sure that this achieves much other than aesthetics. I suppose if your hands are full of lube, it might be easier to grasp, but I did not typically use lube with clitoral toys, and if your fingers were that coated, they would slip right off the smooth buttons.
As for the silicone itself, it’s more velvety and has less drag. It’s not a lint magnet like the Laya Black Line, which my pictures clearly show. I swear, there is no way to remove lint from this thing, but that is, fortunately, not an issue carried over to the Laya III. Of course, the hard plastic of the original didn’t attract lint, so it’s nice not to have to worry about this again.
I still don’t know if I really like the placement of these buttons, but I think that’s a me problem. The bubble design from the Laya II carried over, meaning it’s far easier to press than those on the original Laya Spot. However, I just don’t love them. Truthfully, I want something bigger, flatter, and just… impossible to miss. I’ve spent too much time using vibrators to fumble for the controls that are less than obvious.
But what about the vibrations controlled by those buttons? A side-by-side comparison of the Laya III and Black Line Laya shows that the Black Line’s lowest level of vibrations is stronger, but it has fewer (3) levels of steady vibrations than the Laya III. The highest level seems about the same on both, so the change in the Laya III’s 5 levels is more incremental, something that is absolutely not needed. That makes it bizarre that they toute these unnecessary incremental changes as a customizable experience.
And while the vibrations on the highest setting are similar, they are not identical. The Black Line’s vibrations feel more targeted, although “pinpoint” wouldn’t be accurate. The Laya III feels chaotically diffused in contrast. I actually prefer the Black Line, a toy that previously left me incredibly disappointed. When you consider that the Laya II is stronger than the Black Line, it’s clear that Laya III’s motor is a step backyard.
Y’all, I gotta be honest, I didn’t look much into the Laya III before I tried it. I saw the name, and I wanted it. I completely missed the fact that the motor apparently vibrates and taps until I watched the video after starting this review. And if that’s supposed to be true, I literally cannot feel it. It feels like marketing BS, and I hate typing that.
This is where I also admit that I didn’t realize the texture is supposed to hold lube with the suggestion that you can use either end of the Laya III for pinpoint stimulation. But we’ve already established that the vibrations feel more diffuse at the stronger end than previous of the toy, so there’s no way the weaker end will somehow feel more targeted.
So, really, why did Fun Factory make this toy?
Or, rather, why didn’t they just promote a previous iteration of the Laya that showed how it could be versatile? Because I think it has always deserved more love than it got, and there was no need to improve upon a perfectly good design once they upgraded to a rechargeable motor with decent strength.
Barring a drastic change, I think we got the best Laya we’re going to get our hands on a few years ago. Of course, not everyone has a previous version, so the Laya III isn’t a terrible option for them. After all, if you don’t know what you’re missing, how can you miss it? Some folks might swoon over Laya III, especially if they don’t have much to compare it to, but we’re long past the days of the original, which cost less than $50.
Editor’s note: I was unaware of the Collinses’ pronatalist views and connections to far-right politics, including tacit support of eugenics, when I began reading this book. The review will remain up because it offers a critical look at a publication with many flaws that have received favorable reviews from people who often don’t know better and/or support harmful essentialist or misogynistic views.
I’ll be honest: I’m not sure when I first discovered The Pragmatist’s Guide to Sexuality and began reading it. Nevertheless, I know it was closer to my return to school, which may have been fortuitous. You see, I initially began the book and found myself confused over both the argument the authors, Malcolm and Simone Collins, were making, and the format of the book, That’s never a good thing. I wound up taking a break from reading The Pragmatist’s Guide to Sexuality while I focused on other books, specifically those for my classes. When I finally returned to the book, I had a better understanding of what the authors were trying to say–and the weaknesses in their argument.
You see, Malcolm Collins views himself as a “gentleman researcher,” and I can’t fault him for that. Who hasn’t had questions about sexuality? And thanks to the Internet, anyone can put up a poll or a survey–or even a Reddit thread if you want to be even more informal–to try to get answers to questions about our weird turn-ons. Not everyone understands how to design and run research that is as ethical, educational, and representative as possible. By the time I returned to the book, I had taken a psychological statistics course and written my own paper, which enabled me to apply a critical eye when reading this book. Malcolm Collins and his wife, Simone, come from a business background, so I suppose it’s no surprise that the pair weren’t able to apply the same critical eye to their book.
Unfortunately, The Pragmatist’s Guide to Sexuality suffers for it. At various points, I wondered whether and how the authors disqualified participants who were essentially trolling or applied statistical analyses to the data to determine significance, things which were sometimes discussed in passing but the authors failed to make explicit. Furthermore, I noticed inconsistencies in language that weakened the book’s argument. Specifically, the authors seemed unsure whether they wanted to use “males” and “females” as nouns or “men” and “women,” respectively. Although I prefer the use of “women” in everyday language because to call us “females” is often dehumanizing, I understand that researchers typically use the more detached “females.” The Collinses flipped between the two, sometimes in the same sentence or paragraph, in a way that suggested the need for more stringent editing at the very least.
When it comes to what helped me better understand this book’s arguments, I cannot name a reason as easily as taking a class. Perhaps it was simply my time away that made this possible. Nevertheless, I can now sum it up as research based on unusual arousal responses or patterns. Specifically, the Collinses suggest that sexual orientation or attraction is less about gender than it is about dominance or power. For example, straight women are typically attracted to more dominant men, but some women may be attracted to other women who display similar characteristics. I am being reductive, but the main point is that this book suggests another lens through which we can consider sexuality.
It’s not that the ideas presented in this book aren’t worth considering. What is sexual orientation? What if gender isn’t the only or even the most important component of sexual orientation? Sari van Anders, a respected researcher in the field, tackles this very idea in her sexual configurations theory (SCT), which encourages us to expand our view of sexuality past attraction based on gender and has been praised for its inclusiveness. However, van Anders has published peer-reviewed papers on the topic.
Nor would I argue that a book is never the right format to publish research. Dr. Justin Lehmiller, to name just one example, chose a book to write about his research into fantasies in more depth than a paper or even a series of papers might allow. However, the format doesn’t change the scholarly rigor readers would expect from his work. Collins and Collins fail to bring this rigor to their work.
Ultimately, The Pragmatist’s Guide to Sexuality doesn’t make sense as a book. The type of research and results are better suited for a blog post (or series thereof) and some infographics. This would also cut down on some of the redundancies–the research itself is repeated in a section at the end of the book that I personally found more compelling than most of the rest. A change in format would also remedy the problem of confusing organization. Why bother with longer chapters when a shorter post with headings will do, instead?
As far as I can tell, the best reason for publishing their research in a book is to profit directly rather than creating other Web content that might profit them through ads or content creation incentives. However, all proceeds from their books go to “the nonprofit,” which I assume means the Pragmatist Foundation (according to Amazon book descriptions). The website is similarly vague save for describing the Pragmatist “Foundation” that was designed to
- [C]reate “shepherd free” guides dedicated to assisting individuals in self reflection and challenging their core beliefs without biasing them to specific answers.
- [R]eview and conduct research with the goal of helping people engage in self reflection and seriously consider new ideas so that they can independently determine—for themselves— the best possible ideas and solutions to adopt.
- [C]reate a culture in which people are celebrated for exploring new and alternate ideas, engaging in critical self reflection, and intellectually engaging with the views of those who disagree with them.
Maybe Malcolm Collins just wants an excuse to ask questions and posit theories in a way that feels more grandiose than web content.
I suppose the foundation has accomplished at least some of the outlined goals with this book, which has, in some part, encouraged me to “consider new ideas.” I’m not entirely sure that anything about this book was personally pragmatic, however. What do I do with this suggestion? Some people might focus less on gender when seeking sexual partners, but I’m already bisexual, so perhaps I am not the target audience. I suspect that a more comprehensive theory like that under development by Sari van Anders might be more pragmatic for me specifically. In fact, Alex Iantaffi and Meg-John Barker have written a zine offering some questions for self-reflection, among other guidance based on SCT that I find more actionable at less than 20 pages.
Still, if you’re intrigued by The Pragmatist’s Guide to Sexuality, you can purchase the Kindle version for $2.99 (it’s free if you’re a Kindle Unlimited member). Amazon also carries hard and softcover versions of the book, although I’m not sure the higher price tag is warranted.
