What can the Dutch teach us about sex?
How the Dutch succeed in teaching their children not only about sex, but about love, relationships, and self-expression
On a recent trip to Europe, I discovered a lot of cultural differences in how Europeans approach work, school, and personal relationships relative to Americans, but one difference struck me more than any other: it’s how Europeans broadly, and the Dutch in particular, teach their children about sex.
Though the first article that caught my attention focused on sex education in the Netherlands, I realized the ideas generally applied to the rest of Western Europe as well. Speaking with friends from Germany, Austria, and Finland, I found their experiences growing up differed dramatically from mine not only when it came to sex, but to love, relationships, and self-expression. It seemed they had never struggled with mixed messages, fraternity culture, and shame the way my American friends and I had. Their early experiences were more joyful and less fraught.
And as I read about Dutch sex ed and pieces together the way my European friends grew up, I understood why.
So How Do the Dutch Teach Children About Sex?
The Dutch begin teaching children about sex at a very young age, and frame it in the context of healthy and pleasurable relationships. Sex education begins at age 4 when children learn about basic biology, sexual diversity, and relationships, in an age-appropriate fashion. As children mature, the curriculum includes sexual diversity, menstruation and contraception, pleasure, and “interaction skills” for expression of sexual wishes and boundaries. As writer Amy Schalet shares, “Emphasis on the positive aspects of sex and relationships- within the context of respect for self and others- is a key feature of Dutch sex education.”
Over the past few years, Dutch sex education has gained publicity for its impressive results: in 2007, rates of births to fifteen- to nineteen-year-old girls were eight times as high in the United States as they were in the Netherlands. Beyond a far lower rate of teen pregnancy, Dutch teens report having sex for the first time slightly later than their American counterparts but experiencing far higher satisfaction for both men and women. As writer Amy Schalet reports, “Four out of five Dutch youth described their first sexual experiences…as well timed, within their control, and fun.” Though the program is already considered highly successful, Dutch researchers use survey data to identify areas for continued improvement- such as closing the pleasure gap for women- and adjust the curriculum accordingly.
As I discovered more about how the Dutch teach sex ed, I couldn’t help but notice how comically different it was from my own education growing up in America. My sex ed began when I was ushered into an auditorium with no explanation at age 11 to watch a very technical video on menstruation. When it was over, my Mom and I drove home in uncomfortable silence.
For the next three years, my classmates and I endured a form of sex ed that was dry at best, uncomfortable and shameful at worst. We looked at pictures of labels reproductive parts on slides, watched videos from the 90s on pregnancy and STDs, and laughed uncomfortably as our teacher discussed how to put on condoms. But one of the most vivid memories I have is how we learned about childbirth. Our teacher put on a video called “The Miracle of Life,” that depicts the development of a fetus from conception to birth. As the fetus reaches the ninth month, the video cuts jarringly to an ER scene of a woman screaming and bleeding during delivery. For the next few years, friends and I discussed whether having children could be worth the suffering shown in the video.
If there was anything our teachers wanted to impart, it seemed to be that sex was dangerous. It was the source of STDs and unwanted pregnancies that could destroy your life. When it came to sexual relationships between boys and girls, we were shown examples that were conflicted and antagonistic. In our 90s videos, teenage boys would pressure their girlfriends to “do it,” and the “responsible” girls said no.
At no point in our education did we discuss the pleasure of sex, let alone orgasms. At no point, did we discuss sexual diversity. And most importantly, at no point did we discuss how sex fits into a healthy, loving relationship.
As I read Amy Schalet’s book “Not Under My Roof” contrasting Dutch and American approaches to sex education, I realized the differences went far beyond sex- they underscored two different views on gender, relationships, love and self-expression. Here are the three most striking things I noticed:
The Dutch Treat Sex as Natural and Normalize It
“Adolescent sexuality has been viewed as a problem to be prevented in the United States, while in the Netherlands, it has been accepted as part of teenage maturation to be guided by new moral rules.” — Amy Schalet
In Dutch culture, sexuality is considered a natural part of human development. As kids ask questions and explore, parents and teachers guide them and help them integrate sexuality into their lives. While young kids learn about “Spring Fever” and the place of sex in nature, teens grow to understand that sex deepens through mutual respect and love.
In America, sex education is charged with a certain drama and conflict from the start. Despite the fact that the average child is first exposed to internet pornography at 11 years old, most Americans aim to discourage sexual exploration and believe that “sex among teens aged fourteen to sixteen is always wrong.” Even outside of explicit porn, children are flooded with confusing and contradictory messages from mainstream culture: while depictions of breastfeeding and intimate love remain taboos, breasts in advertising or sexual scenes on TV are fully acceptable.
While the Dutch present sexuality as a normal part of human nature, American culture simultaneously forbids and glamorizes it.
The Dutch Avoid Sex-Stereotyping
One of the most interesting aspects of Dutch sex ed is how it approaches male and female gender differences. As Schalet shares, When “researchers found evidence of double standard and sex-stereotyping- including the notion that boys were supposed to be more active and girls more passive in sexual interactions…they recommended teaching negotiation or “interaction skills,” including the expression of sexual wishes and boundaries.” In this way, the Dutch avoid proscribing what is “right” or normal, and instead give boys and girls the tools to express their personal needs.
The result is a culture in which women are able to assert their needs and desires and men are able to own their feelings. As Schalet puts it, “[The Dutch] leave room for boys to think of themselves as romantic, of having feelings. And it’s not that American boys aren’t romantic, it’s that everything in their culture tells them that they shouldn’t be.” Dutch boys and girls learn it’s acceptable to be both assertive and sensitive, allowing them to express themselves fully in relationships.
In contrast, interviews with American teenagers paint a very different picture:
“Sharon Thompson found that only a quarter of the four hundred girls she interviewed about sexuality talked about their first sexual experiences as pleasurable. Among the girls Karin Martin interviewed, puberty and first intercourse decreased self-esteem. Psychologist Deborah Tolman found that most of the girls she interviewed struggled to fully own their sexual desires and experiences in the face of cultural constructs such as the double standard and the “slut” label that stigmatize and deny girls’ desires…And in her ethnographic study Dude, You’re a Fag, C.J. Pascoe found that teenage boys were encourage to treat girls as sex objects and risked social derogation if they expressed affection for their girlfriends.”
The Dutch Create a Context of Love And Respect
“Your own experiences with sex start with yourself…Thus, you can have sex with yourself, but also with others. You make love because you and the other person enjoy it.” -Excerpt from a Dutch textbook
Sex begins with a healthy attitude towards the self: self-awareness, respect, and love. What starts out as a means of self-exploration and pleasure naturally expands into a shared experience of pleasure and potentially, love. It’s for this reason that the Dutch curriculum begins at age 4 and expands to cover not only biology, but emotions, relationships, and society at large. The message is that sex can be a beautiful way to create intimacy, but only if it’s treated with care and emotional maturity.
If there is any message I took from my middle school sex ed classes, it was that sex was dangerous. Behind any sexual activity lay the potential landmines of STDs, pregnancy, or shame. Rather than learning to be intimate partners, men and women were usually framed as adversaries, with men “wanting it” and women “needing to say no.” That’s not to say that sex in America is without love and caring- far from it. But most young adults in America need to wade through a huge amount of pain- or at least cultural confusion- in order to learn how sex fits into a healthy and loving relationship. That in and of itself is an unnecessary tragedy.
Conclusion on a Personal Note
Part of why learning about cultural differences in sex education between America and the Netherlands was so eye-opening for me is it shed light on experiences I struggled to make sense of since my late teens.
My first boyfriend was Italian and despite an age difference, he never pressured me for any sexual activity when I told him I wasn’t ready. My first relationship was healthy and respectful.
In contrast, during most of my college years in Philadelphia, I lived in a social atmosphere that made me disgusted, sad, and confused: boys bragged about what they “did” to girls, boys and girls drunkenly rubbed up against each other at parties, and girls tried to fit in and succeed in a social culture that generally demeaned them. Half the guys I went on dates with in college or shortly after were pushy, aggressive, and utterly oblivious to what women might want or need.
It took me years to establish clear boundaries and wonderful relationships and unfortunately, it was mostly because I experienced so much of the opposite.
On one hand, I look at the culture my friends and I experienced in college with a lot of anger. On the other, when I look at the messages young Americans get about sex relative to the rest of the world, I pity our culture. Between sex ed, Hollywood, and the vastness of the Internet, where is our model for loving, intimate relationships?
