The Origins of Sex

I should never have aspired to become a historian, nor persevered with this book, without the example and encouragement of several outstand­ing scholars and friends. I recall with gratitude the support of Ian Archer, Peter Biller, Jan Blokker, Michael Braddick, Robin Briggs, Marilyn Butler, Robert Darnton, Rees Davies, Anthony Fletcher, Clive Holmes, Joanna Innes, Ian Kershaw, Paul Langford, Diarmaid MacCulloch, David Parrott, Hanna Pickard, Lyndal Roper, Paul Slack, Robert Shoemaker, Lawrence Stone, Keith Thomas, Simon Walker, David Wootton, and Keith Wrightson. I am especially thankful for the unceasing kindness of Martin Ingram, who supervised my early researches, and of John Maddicott and Christina de Bellaigue, who have each helped me in innu­merable ways.

I am profoundly obliged to the institutions that have sustained me at Oxford: the Faculty of History, All Souls College, and, most of all, Exeter College. I must acknowledge as well the support of the Lewis Walpole Library at Yale University and of the Arts and Humanities Research Board of the United Kingdom. And I rejoice in the vigilance and good humour of my publisher, Stuart Proffitt.

How very much I am indebted on particular points to the scholar­ship of others will, I hope, be evident from the notes. The book also owes an enormous amount to the intellectual stimulus of my students at Oxford, and to the benevolent interest of many colleagues across the world – historians, literary critics, lawyers, philosophers, and others – who have helped me discuss my ideas, supplied me with valuable references, and read drafts of the text. I am deeply grateful to them all.

The dedication records my happiest, most important obligation of all, to my three favourite readers.

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Подпись: Dara Torres of United States celebrates winning the silver medal in the women's 4 X 100-meter medley relay final during the swimming competitions in the National Aquatics Center at the Beijing 2008 Olympics in Beijing. AT THE OLYMPIC GAMES IN Beijing, swim­mer Dara Torres, at age 41, the oldest woman ever

to compete in that sport at this level, redefined people’s beliefs about world-class athletes and mothers (her daughter was aged two at the time). She won three silver medals, missing a gold by.01 second. Competing in her fifth Olympic Games, Torres clearly demonstrated that a combination of great genes and a highly rigorous training regimen enabled her to compete in a sport in which most world-class women swimmers’ careers are over by the time they are in their mid-twenties.

Подпись: In this July 29, 2008 file photo, Republican presidential candidate, Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., speaks during a town hall meeting at the Reed High School in Sparks, Nevada. At the same time, Senator John McCain became, at age 72, the oldest person to be nomi­nated for a first term as president by a major political party. Senator McCain had a long, distinguished career as an officer in the U. S. Navy, was a prisoner of war for 5 years during the Vietnam conflict, and went on to be elected to Congress from Arizona. By his own admission, McCain was in better health than many other people of his age at the time of his cam­paign. When questioned about his age, he pointed out his 96-year-old mother, who accompanied him on many of his campaign trips. His (and his mother’s) energy and stamina demonstrated that chronological age alone is a very poor index of people’s capabilities.

Dara Torres and John McCain are great exam­ples of how middle-aged and older adults are being looked at differently today. They showed that adults are capable of doing things thought unimaginable or inappropriate just a few years ago. They also illustrate how the normal changes people experience as they age vary across individuals and why we need to rethink common stereotypes about age.

In this chapter, we examine a seemingly simple question: Who are older people? We will see that the answer is more complicated than you might think. We also consider the ways in which gerontologists study adults and how adults develop.


Подпись: Studying Adult Development and Aging

What does it take to speak up for men?

For three years I served on the board of directors of the National Organiza­tion for Women in New York City. As 1 explained women’s perspectives to men, 1 often noticed a woman elbow the man she was with, as if to say, "See, even an expert says what a jerk you are." I slowly became good at saying what women wanted to hear. I enjoyed the standing ovations that followed.

The fan that my audiences were about 90 percent women and 10 percent men (most of whom had been dragged there by the women) only re­inforced my assumption that women were enlightened and men were Neanderthals; that women were, after all, smart women stuck with foolish choices. I secret^ loved this perspective – it allowed me to see myself as one of America’s sensitive new age men. A new Top Gun. Feminists who asked me, "How can we done you?” or “What in your background made you so secure?” reinforced that secret pride. And the three or four invitations for

new engagements following each speech allowed for some financial security.

Years pavsed. As most of the women who were my strongest supporters got divorced, I could only assume the problem was their husbands. The women agreed But 1 observed something my feminist women friends had in common: an increasing anger toward men, a restlessness in their eyes that did not reflect a deeper inner peace.

Then one day (in one of those rare moments of internal security) I asked myself whether whatever impact I might have had was a positive one; 1 wondered if the reason so many more women than men listened to me was because I had been listening to women but not listening to men. I reviewed some of the tapes from among the hundreds of women s and men’s groups I had started. I heard myself. When women criticized men, I called it "insight," "assertiveness," "women’s liberation," "independence,” or "high self­esteem." When men criticized women, I called it "sexism," "male chauvin­ism," "defensiveness," "rationalizing," and "backlash." 1 did it politely – but the men got the point. Soon the men were no longer expressing their feelings. Then I criticized the men for not expressing their feelings!

I decided to experiment with ways of getting men to express feelings. I noticed men were often most open about their feelings on the first date. On the first date, the woman often used what I came tocall "awe training" – those looks of "Wow, that’s fascinating" in her eyes (if not in her words). The men felt secure and opened up.

So when men in my men’s groups spoke, I exercised some awe training. It worked. 1 heard things I had never heard before – things that forced me to reexamine my own life and motives. The combination created a new dilemma. . .

Now when women asked, "Why are men afraid of commitment?" or feminists said, "Men have the power,” my answers incorporated both sexes’ perspectives. Almost overnight my standing ovations disintegrated. After each speaking engagement, I was no longer receiving three or four new requests to speak. My financial security was drying up.

I would not be honest if I denied that this tempted me to return to being a spokesperson only for women’s perspectives. I liked writing, speaking, and doing television shows. Now it seemed that all three were in jeopardy. I quickly discovered it took far more internal security to speak on behalf of men than to speak on behalf of women. Or, more accurately, to speak on behalf of both sexes rather than on behalf of only women.

Fortunately there is another side. Although it was women’s standing ovations that had tapered off, it was also mostly women who wrote me that these new perspectives were helping them feel much more loving toward their husbands or fathers, their sons, or a man at work. And it was mostly

women who said it would help them if these new perspectives were in writing


The relationship between postfeminism, postmodernism and post-colonialism is an important one when understanding some of the central issues considered in the debates outlined in the following chapters. The concept of ‘post:’ common to all three discourses can be the subject of misconception in the popular interpretation of the terms. Postfeminism as in the case of post-colonialism and postmodernism is often used to signal a complete break in a previous range of usually ‘oppressive’ relations. ‘Post’ as used in these instances often implies that these relations have been overcome and replaced and in this context the emphasis is on a new range of temporal, political and cultural relations. This use of the concept of ‘post’ is highly problematic.

As it is understood in this book the concept of ‘post’ implies a process of ongoing transformation and change. As Spoonley (1995a: 49) comments, post-colonialism can be seen as marking ‘a critical engagement with colonialism, not to claim that colonialism has been overturned’. In the same way, postfeminism can be understood as critically engaging with patriarchy and postmodernism as similarly engaged with the principles of modernism. It does not assume that either patriarchal or modernist discourses and frames of reference have been replaced or superseded.

As Spoonley (1995a:53) notes: ‘The “post” of post-colonialism refers to a “continuous engagement with the effects of colonial occupation”’ (Thomas, 1993:8).

Postfeminism also occupies a similar ‘critical’ position in regard to earlier feminist frameworks at the same time as critically engaging with patriarchal and imperialist discourses. In doing so it challenges hegemonic assumptions held by second wave feminist epistemologies that patriarchal and imperialist oppression was a universally experienced oppression. As Gunew and Yeatman maintain, there is a need to

organise around local allegiances in order to dismantle once again the universal models which however benign they may appear, work ultimately to confirm the old power structures, whether these be partriarchies or neo-imperialisms.

(Gunew and Yeatman 1993:xiv)

Postfeminism, as with post-colonialism, ‘represents one interesting possibility within the politics of difference that have emerged as an important site of political mobilisation…’ (Spoonley 1995a:64).


Joy McFadden[1]

I was stuck. By night I dreamt of a grassy yard to romp in with my dogs and blooming trees to lie under. By day I patrolled the gray halls of an aging Boston hospital. Skyrocketing property taxes and a demanding job conspired to keep me pale, cramped, and stuck. And, of course, there was the dull ache that throbbed every time I considered my prospects for marrying and having a family. “Stuck” didn’t even begin to describe that. Try “nailed to the floor.” I finally understood

something I’d heard my father mumble after an especially trying day: “You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

In the spring of 1995, I finally mustered the strength to pry myself loose. I bought a house with a yard and trees twenty minutes from the hospital. What more could I ask for? Even before I unpacked, I remember seeing a small crowd of people two doors down the street. They were clustered around tables decorated with colorful streamers and balloons. The smoking barbecues told me it was a block party. I wandered over. Adults introduced themselves while I snacked on chips and salsa. Before long I gave up trying to figure out who lived where and with whom and whether the kids being pointed out were their children or their stepchildren, from the first marriage or the second, and who was straight, gay, or whatever. What I really remember was the surprise I felt as that stuck feeling snuck up again and grabbed me as I walked back to my own house alone.

I began to think about single motherhood seriously in my mid-thirties. My friends would tell me what a terrific parent I would make, and I guess I agreed. But the missing ingredient was a relationship. I didn’t have prospects of getting mar­ried. Dates became more infrequent as my girlfriends ran out of men to introduce me to—that was the way I used to meet men. The last of my friends seemed to be getting married just to have children. It wasn’t clear to me that these relationships were going to be long-lasting ones because the goal didn’t necessarily seem to be to find a soul mate—someone to be happy with for the rest of your life. But instead it was “My biological clock is ticking and I need to have a child” and “I can’t do it without having somebody.” I felt that wasn’t the right decision for me. To look for a man to father a child, as opposed to looking for someone who would be right for me, wasn’t the same decision. A new crop of men appeared on the dat­ing scene: divorced with children. They were looking for companions, but they didn’t want more children. I couldn’t make these kinds of marriage compromises.

I realized that if I didn’t do something soon, I would remain everybody’s favorite aunt. I would always regret never having tried to have children. Whereas if I took the plunge and tried to do it myself, however hard that would turn out to be, I couldn’t imagine regretting becoming a mom. Work had never been enough. But I wondered: could I have a career and a child without a man?

I chose the occasion of a Sunday dinner to reveal my plan to my parents. It was important to me to have my parents’ approval. My mom is a good sounding board, and she always makes me feel okay about my decisions. She’d stopped asking me about my social life years ago. Every once in a while I told her that I wondered if I would ever meet a man to marry, and even though she didn’t have to say it to me, I blew she was concerned that I would never be a mom. As the quintessential homemaker, her kids were her whole life.

That particular evening I approached my mom with a career situation because it seemed easier than blurting out what was really on my mind. I wasn’t sure how my mom would react to my secret. We started our usual kitchen talk with the job offer I’d received that week. We were talking about “Should I do it?

Shouldn’t I?” and I said, “Well, the money is a little better, the hours aren’t quite as good, I’d be more in demand,” and then I added, “You know, I guess one piece of the decision has to do with whether I have decided for sure that I will never have kids.”

She put up her hand and said, “Well, I hope you haven’t decided that.”

I blanched. I had to sit down and set aside the vegetable peeler. I calmed down and said, “Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about having a baby. I can’t wait for a man anymore.”

Surprisingly to me, because my mother is really rather conservative, espec­ially in terms of social issues, she was very supportive of the idea. At first my mom looked startled by her own words of support, but then she smiled. She said, “I really think you’ll be a terrific mother. And I want you to have a child. I don’t want you to miss out on the best part of life and the most important part of being a woman.” I bit my lip at the last part. This was not the time to debate genera­tional differences. Moreover, I felt terrific that she took what I was saying so well. While I stood there a bit dumbfounded, she refilled our wineglasses. We toasted my future.

My mom told the news to my dad that evening after I had gone home. Even though I’d always talked to him about work, this was not something I felt I could tell him directly. She called me later and reported, “Your father was really shocked.”

“Well,” I said, “frankly, I’m less surprised about that than I am that you weren’t.”

And then my mom said, “He walked out of the room, and then walked back two minutes later and said, ‘I could be a grandfather again.’” That was that. He was fully behind the idea after that point. And I began to feel more settled with the idea of becoming a mom on my own. I passed up the job offer.

I’d decided early on that I wanted the pleasure of actually going through a pregnancy. But I knew I needed to think carefully about whether I should try to know who was going to be the father. I asked a couple of male friends to be sperm donors, and when two agreed, I was inclined to have a known donor. My cousin, however, pointed out the possible legal risks a known donor could present, and I have to admit that chilled me. But I was not willing to totally reject the idea. I came up with an interesting alternative: a quasi-known donor. Since two male friends had volunteered, I would mix their sperm together—not unlike what I’d heard infertile couples sometimes do when the husband has a fertility problem. As a medical professional, I knew that a DNA test could ultimately tell who the genetic father was, but at least for a while I would have the benefit of knowing who the men were without involving them beyond their obvious contributions.

Still, my cousin’s legal caution haunted me. And in the end, I could not imagine having a known donor who was not also a dad to my child. So I decided upon an anonymous donor. The only place for me to find an anonymous donor and be inseminated at the same time was an infertility clinic. I felt slightly out of

place among the infertile couples, because while I did not have a man to become pregnant by, there was no indication that I had fertility problems. After three tries, a miscarriage, and then another try, I became pregnant.

Six weeks after the birth of my daughter I had the first thoughts of having a second child. I was taking a walk, it was a lovely summer day, I was pushing her along in her stroller. And I was thinking to myself, looking down at this absolutely gorgeous baby: “This was supposed to be the be-all and end-all event. This was supposed to complete my life. Whatever else happened, it was going to be perfect to have been blessed to have had this one child.” And I looked down and I said, “You know, I adore you, but if the world were a different place, I would have many more of you.” It was clear to me that I would obviously never do this again, unless this time I happened to meet somebody and marry before the time frame ran out when I could do it physically.

I actually had never particularly put aside the idea of finding somebody, my thought being that without a time pressure there was more likelihood. And of course, anyone that I would meet would have to love kids anyway, so what differ­ence would it make that there was already a child? So I said, “Well, of course, I can’t do this again by myself.” And that’s the end of that.

Just before my fortieth birthday I returned to the infertility clinic. Finding a man to marry had still not happened. I knew I had the energy for a second child. So why not? I wanted my daughter to have a brother or a sister to give her more family.

The infertility clinic told me that they usually advise couples to put away additional sperm from the original donor for a second child. But because I was a single woman no one had thought to recommend this. The original donor was unavailable and for a few fleeting moments I thought, “Gee, they will only be half siblings,” but then I said to myself, “It doesn’t make any difference. I will only try for six months. Not very likely.” Well, this time I became pregnant on the first try.

When I brought the baby home from the hospital my daughter, then almost four years old, came over and said, “Can I give you a hug?” And I said sure. And she said, “How about a family hug?” So she hugged both of us and she said, “You know, Mom, now we’re a family.” So for her, it was somehow the addition of a second child that really made a big difference. I, too, felt my family was now complete.

Studying Adult Development and Aging


Discovering Development: Myths and Stereotypes about Aging • The Life-Span Perspective • The Demographics of Aging • Global Aging Quiz: A Test of Your Knowledge of Global Aging for the 21st Century


The Forces of Development • Interrelations among the Forces: Developmental Influences • Culture and Ethnicity • The Meaning of Age • Core Issues in Development • Current Controversies: Does Personality in Young Adulthood Determine Personality in Old Age?


Measurement in Adult Development and Aging Research • General Designs for Research • Designs for Studying Development • Integrating Findings from Different Studies • Conducting Research Ethically • How Do We Know? Conflicts between Cross-Sectional and Longitudinal Data


Summary • Review Questions • Integrating Concepts in Development • Key Terms • Resources

Historical background

The Somali state was created by the partition of the Horn of Africa by Britain, Italy and France, and the Abyssinian empire, during the scramble for Africa in the nineteenth century. Formed by colonial treaties, Somalia’s borders today bear no resemblance to the distribu­tion of the ethnic Somali people who, as well as predominating in Somalia itself, inhabit lands within neighbouring Kenya, Ethiopia and Djibouti.4 During the colonial period Somalia itself did not exist as a single state, divided as it was between a northern British Somaliland and a southern Italian Somaliland. On 26 June 1960 Britain granted independence to the north and four days later the Italian-administered UN Trusteeship Territory of Somalia achieved independence. On 1 July 1960 the people of the former British and Italian territories united to form the Somali Republic.

Since May 1991 Somalia has again been two countries. To the north is the self-proclaimed Republic of Somaliland where amid the physical wreckage left by conflict, the population is rebuilding and rehabilitating the country. Although its secession is unrecognised internationally – and is contested by many Somalis – Somaliland has its own government and constitution, police force and judicial system, and has enjoyed stability and peace since 1997. The situation is very different in most of the rest of Somalia. A Transitional National Government formed in 2000 struggles to control even the area of Mogadishu in which it is based. Even though the scale of warfare has diminished much of central and southern Somalia remains volatile as warlords compete for resources.5 Kidnappings, rape, banditry and extortion are a constant threat to security.

About the Authors

image3image4John C. Cavanaugh is Chancellor of the Pennsylvania State System of Higher Education. Previously, he was President of the University of West Florida. A researcher and teacher of adult development and aging for more three decades, he has published nearly 80 articles and chap­ters and authored, co-authored, or co-edited 15 books on aging, infor­mation technology, and higher education policy. He is a Past President of Division 20 (Adult Development and Aging) of the American Psychological Association (APA) and is a Fellow of APA (Divisions 1, 2, 3, and 20) and the Gerontological Society of America, and a Charter Fellow of the Association for Psychological Science. He has held numer­ous leadership positions in these associations, including Chair of the Committee on Aging for APA. He has served on numerous state and na­tional committees for aging-related and higher education organizations. John is a devoted fan of Star Trek and a serious traveler, backpacker, cook, and chocoholic.

Fredda Blanchard-Fields, Ph. D., is Professor and Chair of the School of Psychology at Georgia Institute of Technology. She received her undergraduate degree from the University of California, Los Angeles, and her Ph. D. in developmental psychology from Wayne State University in 1983. She is a Fellow of the APA (Divisions 1, 3, and 20), the Gerontological Society of America, and the American Psychological Society. She is currently the editor of Psychology and Aging. She also has served on numerous national committees, including the executive com­mittee of Division 20 (adult development and aging) of the APA and on the editorial boards of Psychology and Aging, Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences, and the Journal of Adult Development. Finally, she has served as the chair of the National Institutes of Health grant review study section for social psychology, emotion, and personality research. Her program of research examines adaptive developmental changes in adulthood in various areas of social cognition and emotion. She has nu­merous publications in the general area of social cognition, emotion, and aging, including everyday problem solving, emotion regulation, and social judgments from adolescence through older adulthood. She has co-edited two books, including Perspectives on Cognitive Change in Adulthood and Aging and Social Cognition and Aging. Her research on everyday problem solving, emotion regulation, and aging is currently funded by grants from the National Institute on Aging.

Copyright 2010 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part.


In the quarter century that I have worked on women’s and men’s issues, there has never been a moment when I have seen men feeling more gagged, and more ready to remove their gags, than now. I see men searching for ways to explore the only space men have been unwilling to explore – their inner space. The next quarter century will provide an opportunity for thousands of men and women to be pioneers in this exploration. The discoveries will assist men out of isolation – and, there­fore, out of the drugs, divorce, depression, suicide, and the early deaths that are isolation’s legacy.

Male anguish is not the concern of men alone. A man’s suicide affects his wife, children, parents, colleagues, friends. So does his early death, his alcoholism, his addiction to beautiful young women. . . Each affects corporate profits and national productivity. When men are victims, we are all victims.

The Myth of Male Pouter is not a return to the 1950s man; it is a leap forward to the 2050s man. And the 2050s woman. It is about why male – female roles that were functional for the species for millions of years have become dysfunctional in an evolutionary instant