Over the past few weeks I’ve been hearing about GMTV’s LK Today show’s forthcoming ‘sex week’, a series of morning programmes aimed at a mainly female audience to be run in the week before Valentines day.

It’s been an invaluable opportunity to observe how ‘sex’ is understood and constructed by programme makers, and how television journalists interact with sex educators, researchers and health practitioners. And ultimately what is chosen to count as content or ‘evidence’ for a programme.

It begins with a survey …
During the introduction to hearing about the forthcoming series I was told the programmes were going to be pinned around a ‘sex survey’. This is a predictable approach used by TV companies to create content and drive publicity. Fine if said surveys were well designed, reliable or valid, but usually they aren’t. Unsurprisingly the planned version of the GMTV sex survey wasn’t very good, but interestingly the programme makers were willing to accept feedback even if the final version wasn’t all that accurate.

The problem with using surveys to underpin programmes is they’re usually thrown together without much reflection by staff with no knowledge of survey design or much of an awareness of sex. Meaning results are either misleading or reinforce stereotypes. There is no real sense that researchers/practitioners like myself and others already know about such materials and can easily translate it into television-ready formats which we’re happy to offer if we’re approached during the planning phase of programme making.

TV sex programmes are led by two things – a ‘news’ agenda and the opinions of the producer – and it’s hard to argue with either
We all know that the media, less like education or research, is closely directed by a news agenda. The creation of GMTV’s ‘sex week’ was no exception, so during preparations for the programme it seemed production staff were keen to find sex addicts and those who’d been cheated on, presumably to fit stories tagged around celebrity sex addicts and cheaters currently in the headlines.

This does two things. It fits sex into a fairly narrow framework, but also restricts discussions towards gossip rather than actual evidence. Now undoubtedly with celebrity sex scandals there will be public interest and opinion. But this won’t help inform relationships unless we can move away from the celebrity angle and focus on the issues at hand. Even then we’d need the ability to do so accurately. So in the case of ‘sex addiction’ we’d need to take a completely different stance than that offered by a standard production angle – that sex addiction is real, here’s a celebrity example, and here’s a ‘real life’ case study to further illustrate the problem. Instead we’d need to look at how sex addiction isn’t really the problem made out by the media, who is promoting the ‘sex addiction’ agenda, and what people really need to worry about in relation to relationships – and how to solve relationship problems without medicalising behaviour.

In phone conversations I had with staff working on ‘sex week’ I was asked if I could help them find a sex addict, someone who was celibate, someone who had an STI, and recommend other experts who could join in panel discussions about sex and relationships. While I was happy to recommend a number of colleagues who I rate (and know would do a great job in talking confidently about sex and relationships to the viewers) obviously I couldn’t recommend case studies (it’s unethical to refer someone you meet in education/research to journalists).

It is unclear exactly what will feature within ‘sex week’ but if it follows the format being worked on over the past few weeks ‘sex’ will be problematised. This can be seen in the way GMTV framed sex in their introduction to their sex survey: “Valentine’s Day is upon us, but are you fed up with your sex life? Is your partner inattentive and unadventurous? Or was the last sexual compulsion you experienced many, many moons ago? Maybe you’re lucky enough to enjoy a passionate relationship with your partner. Whatever you’re getting up to between the sheets, share your sex stories and thoughts with us in our sex survey”. Through to focusing on people who do it too much (addicts) or with the wrong people (cheaters) or those who aren’t doing it enough (celibates).

Sex programmes on television will consistently fail to reach their potential if…
- The focus of any programming is defined and limited by top down approaches where producers set agendas and instruct junior staff to find experts, ‘statistics’ and case studies to support the beliefs and values of the producer. In the case of GMTVs sex week the staff I talked to were charming but were seeking answers to questions set by their producer (who of course didn’t bother speaking directly to any experts). As a result you’ve a constant interrupted dialogue where a producer sets an agenda, a junior has to find someone who’ll support this, and anyone who has a different view will be ignored. No programme will work if you’ve got junior staff negotiating with numerous key players but no authority to green light their inclusion and pressure from an editor to find tame contributors.

- Where ‘news’ (aka ‘gossip’) underpins all stories. Particularly when directly pinned on celebrity cases (with the emphasis on speculating about the celeb not wider issues). Ethically it is inappropriate for practitioners to judge celebrities or any case study and pinning stories so closely to celebrity cases will make it difficult for any ethical practitioner to contribute.

- Where poorly designed surveys are conducted as part of a programme but don’t inform it due to quality issues (or because the survey is conducted to generate publicity not content).

- Where searches for scientific evidence to inform a programme are only carried out on google and ‘evidence’ is understood in terms of some statistics to help stack up a story. A particular problem when staff are pressed for time, don’t understand evidence, and probably aren’t aware that there is a wider body of extensive information about sex they could be drawing on.

- When experts are used to inform content but where staff struggle to identify who is adequately qualified to contribute.

- Journalists (and particularly senior production staff) lack basic sex education so are unable to understand core critical issues about sex. Meaning the ‘sex week’ staff were unaware of any critical discussions of ‘sex addiction’ – they assumed it was real and accepted as a medical condition until told otherwise, and even then continued to work with it as a key contemporary sex issue. There was also the problem of staff accepting ideas that should seem nonsensical – for example one researcher called me asking if I could confirm whether celibacy was harmful to your health since one expert they’d talked to told them if you don’t have sex it could cause physical harm. As with many media encounters a large part of my discussions with staff for ‘sex week’ was about basic sex education (ie how sex won’t get rid of wrinkles or how not having sex won’t harm your body, and that celibacy and asexuality are not the same thing). No reputable sex educator will object to providing this service, but it demonstrates how programmes can’t be made accurately if staff are working from a position of ignorance and misinformation to begin with.

All of which raises serious ethical and practical dilemmas for anyone thinking about being involved in TV sex programmes
Reputable sex educators are always happy to give time to create accurate sex coverage for television. Sadly the approach taken by many production teams often creates barriers for those wanting to be involved. There is the general assumption that you will be willing to provide background information for free, very often to also contribute your time to the show/series for nothing, and the appearance on television is a privilege so you must unquestioningly fit in with the show’s agenda.

Given that many ‘sexperts’ working within the media do so as a means to advertise their products and services they’ll obviously say whatever’s asked for to get their time on television. However, genuine experts won’t be motivated in the same way. We will want to share accurate, sex positive information in an engaging way, not repeat what the producer wants to hear. For many of us schedules need reorganising if we’re going to be on TV (for ‘sex week’ we were asked to set aside two days for filming). That means patients, clients, colleagues and students timetables will also need restructuring. This is only worth it if you’re actually going to be able to share sex positive information.

Once you become aware there’s a show in development you want it to be as accurate as possible – regardless of whether you appear on the final edit. However, that in turn raises issues of how much you should be involved given you can provide lots of time and effort for nothing, have no record of your contribution, and ultimately not see any of your efforts inform the programming. (Which is sadly the case with ‘sex week’ where contributors including myself who’d been booked to appear were told at the last minute we weren’t needed as they’d be sticking with their resident TV doc and sexpert).

Because of these issues the end result of most TV sex shows currently means sex is always constructed in particular ways – usually limited, negative, problem-based with judgemental case studies pinned on celebrities. Expertise may well have been consulted, but may well not be understood or applied. And contributors may not end up on any programming leading to time being wasted and a lot of lost opportunities and bad feeling created.

Very often journalists complain they can’t put together decent programmes because they are up against limits of time or resources. Yet this case study and countless others like it indicate that’s just not true. There’s stacks of evidence, loads of qualified people who can talk about it in engaging ways, and a lot to be said that’s currently not talked about. The key problem is producers make specific decisions to frame sex and ‘sexpertise’ in particular ways. Meaning you get poor to average sex coverage when you could have had GREAT sex.

The tracking of GMTV’s sex week from programme outline to broadcast allows us to think about how sex programmes are constructed for mainstream prime time audiences. You’ve had the background from me, but you can explore this further by watching the programmes (run on ITV1 every morning this week from 9am GMT)

What will they discuss? Consider what they may have talked about and reflect on how much of the programme is linked to their sex survey (the results of which can be found here). You can also question what other evidence is used to underpin programme (and where might that have come from) and what other evidence could have been used. How much of ‘sex week’ will frame sex in a language of hormones, evolution, body language, and gender stereotypes (and how much of that coverage seems accurate or understood). You may want to reflect on who is and isn’t included in discussions (for example in terms of ability, age, ethnicity or sexuality) and how much of the series will be pinned around product placement (lingerie, sex toys etc). Finally you may want to consider how much of the series provides actionable information people can put into practice (rather than instructions on what we should be doing sexually).

As a sex educator my wish is always that quality sex information is provided to the public, so if GMTV manage to do this during ‘sex week’ then this is good news. My anxiety is the programmes won’t be as good as they could be (for reasons set out above) and this is common to most television shows about sex/relationships.

The questions remain about how we address this problem? Practitioners are keen to get involved and share good information but are restricted by many practical and financial barriers set up by television companies. Television companies are keen to continue to include sex content but are unwilling to improve content, particularly because they need to talk about sex but fear losing advertising revenue or viewing figures.

Perhaps the key to the puzzle is not to be found with journalists or practitioners, but lies with the public who can demand better programming (presuming they’re aware what’s currently on offer is inadequate). After all, no matter how eager or well meaning us practitioners can be, or how much evidence we can share, this is never going to be possible unless producers have a reason to provide it. If viewers want this – or if viewers will switch off if it’s not provided – then maybe our sex programming will get better.

Unless you’ve been living on another planet for the past week or so you can’t have escaped the news of Tiger Woods’ infidelities. The media have been thrilled to report on every new salacious revelation and fuel speculation over Mr Woods’ career and marriage. In some cases abetted by a minority of therapists and psychologists.

I can’t comment on Mr Woods. Here’s why. If I know a celebrity then I’d be breaching their confidentiality by talking about them to the media. And if I don’t know a celebrity personally all I’d be doing in discussing their personal life with the media is gossiping. That’s not me being prissy, it’s the basic ethical guidance set out for psychologists to follow.

In cases where celebrities run into trouble it’s logical journalists will want to cover the story. And the public may be interested either voyeuristically or because they’re also experiencing problems and hope they might learn how to deal with the situation by following what’s written about the celeb in question.

It’s not unreasonable for experts to play a role in such coverage. For example in this case it would be possible to talk about the wider issues of what cheating involves, why cheating occurs, the impact on children or wider family members, and how couples can deal with such problems within their relationships. Ethically you can discuss general issues. What you can’t do is talk specifically about the celebrity and speculate on their life.

Unfortunately many journalists aren’t satisfied with this. They want the ‘personal touch’ (a diagnosis of the celeb in question). And to help they’re happy to provide you with film clips and photographs to analyse or give you statements from the celeb or those close to them for you to diagnose. You’ll find with such celebrity cases that you’re not only pushed into talking directly about the person and their family, you’re often put in a context where the celebrity is ridiculed or blamed. Perhaps unsurprisingly many ethical practitioners avoid any discussions of celebrities within the media simply because there is little or no hope of discussing wider issues, but an almost certain guarantee you’d be asked to judge celebrities directly.

And as we’ve seen so many times, if you won’t do this then there are plenty of therapists, psychologists, medics and other self proclaimed ‘experts’ who will be more than willing to do so. Meaning journalists are confused over ethical standards but don’t need to respect them since they’re not consistently adhered to.

In the case of Tiger Woods I gather from journalist colleagues in the US a minority of therapists began badgering the media as soon as the story broke. So this wasn’t even a case of journalists deciding to focus on the ‘sex addict’ angle. It was being suggested to them by professionals not only willing to diagnose someone via media, but also speculate on their personal life. Both unethical practices, but both very popular in celebrity crisis stories.

Behind the scenes discussions I’ve observed between reputable therapists and sex educators have indicated dismay over the willingness for a minority of practitioners to promote the ‘sex addiction’ tag for Mr Woods.

Aside from the ethical issues over speculation and confidentiality outlined above, the main reason for this concern is down to the very diagnosis of ‘sex addiction’. While the idea of sex addiction (when it’s not being sniggered about) is becoming increasingly popular, it doesn’t mean to say there is an accepted evidence base for it. Indeed, while people can act in sexually compulsive, risky, thoughtless, cruel, controlling and abusive ways, that’s not the same as saying they are ‘addicted’ to sex.

Critics of the ‘sex addiction’ model argue it medicalises behaviour that may be unpleasant or upsetting to partners in a relationship, but does not mean what is happening is a sickness. They complain that making problematic sexual behaviour into a disease-based model actually permits people to take less responsibility or see sex as something they can’t or won’t control. Given that many advocates of the sex addiction movement are often working from right wing and faith based perspectives it’s perhaps unsurprising that they classify masturbation, watching porn or having open relationships under their ‘addiction umbrella’.

If you’re interested in reading around this area I’d recommend starting with Marty Klein, an uncompromising and often challenging sex therapist who nevertheless outlines very clearly why the sex addiction approach (and related industry) is problematic for our relationships. Klein does not excuse negative behaviour in relationships, but argues that by focusing on sex as addiction we may miss key problems and not provide adequate therapeutic interventions for people who need it (although we may well provide inadequate and untested therapeutic interventions for people who don’t). Picking up on some of the issues Klein raises, Leonore Tiefer in conversation with Susie Bright also identify why the addiction model is problematic and why people are so anxious about it. You can listen to this podcast via Susie’s blog ‘sex addiction the big con’.

Sex addiction is a field which does have some evidence behind it, although the quality of said evidence is questionable and there is a major problem with many of the diagnostic tools used to diagnose sex addiction. Which is how I discovered that I was a sex addict – as did several of my colleagues including Cory Silverberg and Susie Bright (who also reports in this blog on her experiences of debating one of the sex addiction advocates within the media).

More worryingly is many ‘sex addiction therapists’ are not necessarily therapists at all and the interventions they endorse are usually homespun ideas based on flimsy evidence and no independent evaluations. This is of particular concern given many of these practitioners target therapists, physicians, faith and youth leaders to ‘train’ them in the homespun therapies or how to spot a sex addict. Although describing themselves as qualified because of being sex addicts themselves, many practitioners have little or no formal qualifications and lack supervision in the work they do. They are careless over ethical standards (evidenced in their eagerness to speculate on celebrities in the media among other things) and either unaware of or unable to understand the wider evidence base about sex and relationships problems.

It is worth noting that most reputable professionals do not endorse the idea of sex addiction, although they are concerned about relationship problems. If, however, there are an aggressive group of practitioners promoting this view – and they’re as eager to work with the media as the media are to hear from them – then it is very difficult to challenge.

For example, yesterday a journalist who called and asked me to talk about Tiger Woods sex addiction responded to my point that in general we don’t recognise the concept in the UK by saying ‘ordinarily I’d agree with you but the therapist whose diagnosed Tiger has advised the government on sex addiction’.

That journalist wasn’t aware of the debates on sex addiction, nor the lack of an evidence base for it, nor the concerns over the ethical practice of those promoting it. But they were impressed that the therapist they’d heard about enhanced their expertise by claiming they advised the government on the issue. This would be the Bush administration which promoted abstinence based sex education, withheld funding for sex positive education, restricted the availability of over the counter emergency contraception (despite the evidence base saying this was a good idea), and was not known for its sex positive approach. Of course such an administration would also welcome a neo Conservative therapy that was so gloomy and judgemental about sexual behaviour – and advocated sexual control.

Journalists need to be very careful when covering stories like this. It’s not good enough to run with a story and not question why certain therapists seem so keen to court the media when a story breaks, to not be alert to professional standards and be suspicious of those who so enthusiastically wish to overstep them. Journalists shouldn’t just accept a diagnosis of ‘sex addiction’ but should instead ask questions about what the term means, who is promoting it, why it’s gaining popularity, and whether the wider scientific/health community even agree with it.

Your story then is not Mr-Woods-the-sex-addict, but questioning why some folk seem so keen to diagnose by media and what are we saying about our relationships in the 21st century that infidelity is now a medical condition requiring a 12 step solution.

Rather than accepting at face value a glossy website, smart suit, claims of being seen on chat shows or advising politicians, why not check if this reputation is shared among therapists professional colleagues (not just their hangers on).

It’s dangerous when psychologists and therapists use celebrity relationship problems as a means for promoting themselves, their products or their services. It misleads the public about the nature of problems and solutions available. It promotes untested ideas and misdirects journalists about the evidence in this area. It reduces the chances to offer solutions to those needing help, while it invites judgemental attitudes and blame – which may well put people off seeking therapy.

Since it’s unlikely Tiger Woods will be the last celebrity to ever be in this situation, what can (and should) reputable journalists do if such a story is to be covered?

Firstly, if you want to gossip or speculate about the celebrity don’t do this with the involvement of any therapist, health professional or psychologist. Where you do involve an expert only have them speak about the issue at hand – not the celebrity. Ask the professional to provide information about the issue (why it happens, how common the problem is, how people usually respond and what help is available). Focus on solution based discussions rather than inviting the expert to blame or be judgemental.

Be very cautious about therapists or other experts who contact you direct when a story breaks and offer their services to talk about a celebrity – indeed such a person is indicating they are not professional and it’s a sign you shouldn’t be talking to them – ever.

When celebrity relationships break down it’s easy for journalists to see it as copy, the public to see as entertainment, and therapists to view as a fantastic marketing opportunity for their counselling services.

But we must never forget this is about these stories are always about families falling apart and relationships under pressure. Intense media scrutiny at such a time can be devastating and harmful and as ethical practitioners our job should never be to add to any suffering a person is already experiencing.

What made me start blogging?
Five years ago I sat down on a dark November evening and wrote my very first blog entry. It was a bit ranty. I’d been misquoted by a journalist and was anxious it would get me into hot water (again).

I didn’t have a game plan when I started blogging. My partner (who’s way more tech savvy than I am) thought it might be a good way of sharing ideas I was struggling to convey via the mainstream media (I was writing several advice columns in magazines at the time, as well as hosting a regular radio phone in for BBC Five Live).

I approached the blog as a form of therapy. I wanted to work with the media but was getting a lot of stick for it professionally (I’m an academic as well as a sex educator). Having a place to blog would allow me to correct any errors in reporting and disclose bad journalism. I even hoped it it might even let me bring evidence into sex/relationships reporting – and show it was possible to do so without things becoming worthy or dull.

One thing I felt sure of early on was this blog was something I enjoyed writing, but I wanted to be useful, and most importantly to deliver things about sex, relationships, science and journalism that readers wanted to know about. Which is why the blog has always been shaped by things you’ve asked for.

Readers make this blog (or “why don’t you have comments?”)
Last summer I asked regular readers to give me feedback on this blog and got some very helpful responses. It’s taken me a while to implement some of these, but I have now upgraded the blog to include the things you asked for – photos and images to liven things up, a better blogroll, summaries at the start of most entries so you can decide if you wish to read on. And categories. Something I didn’ think about five years ago and really wish I had. I’m now in the process of going back through all the 800+ posts and adding categories to them, which I hope will make this blog a lot more useful to you.

The one thing this blog doesn’t have is comments. I did start off having them, but encountered several problems. As I was offering advice within columns and websites elsewhere I hadn’t planned to also answer problems on this blog. However, not all readers understood this so I frequently found requests for advice on anything from infidelity to penis size included in discussions about blogs relating to research design or journalism ethics. This sometimes led to some readers mocking those asking for advice, which of course is completely unacceptable for me as an educator.

Moreover, I’ve always blogged openly – never behind a pseudonym. I work within the community on sex/relationships projects and educational activities (in the UK and internationally). This meant I was very accessible, and felt vulnerable when those whose comments were deleted or not posted, made very personal threats.

I found moderating the comments was time consuming and took me away from other educational activities which I felt were more worthwhile. So I decided to remove the comments option. When I’ve asked readers if they want them back the general response is ‘no’. That’s mostly from people who feel the blog’s a safe space to get information which they can use as they wish elsewhere.

Of course I strongly welcome respectful email feedback and am always happy to add information or correct errors within the blog. You’re always welcome to start discussions on other forums or your own blog about issues raised here. For now I’ve no plans to reinstate comments, but since I’m occasionally asked why I don’t have them I thought this was a good a time as any to clarify the issue.

Achievements so far
Having read back to 2004 I’m pretty pleased with this little blog. It’s nice to see it’s grown into a resource that people trust and enjoy reading.

The things I’m most proud to have written are activist blogs that highlight medicalisation, exploitation and abuse. These include the debates around female sexual dysfunction, questioning high street stores stocking ‘herbal’ erectile dysfunction drugs (not approved by the FDA), exposing the Advanced Medical Institute’s aggressive sales technique for men affected by premature ejaculation, or highlighting misleading media coverage of the availability of Viagra on the high street.

I initially planned to use the blog to set right bad sex coverage in the media (or occasions where I’d been misquoted). This has been a theme within the blog although I think it’s become more focused over time (although not necessarily less ranty than my very first post). I can’t say whether it’s made much difference to journalists, and I hope it’s not put people off working with the media. I’ve found it helpful to describe poor practice – not least because the general trend for ‘experts’ working with the media is to act grateful for any exposure, not publicly discuss poor experiences or document bad practice. Gems for me include an expose of GMTV sending a cab to my home at 6am on the off chance I might wake up and come to their studio. Or how a TV show wanted to discuss female sexual confidence without mentioning genitals or masturbation. Or some rather nasty experiences with snotty TV producers just after I’d had a baby. Not to mention the hilarious case of the science journalist who really took a dislike to me (and colleagues). Oh, and let’s not forget the journalist who wanted me to recommend them an ‘unethical psychologist’ .

Of course, the past five years have not been spent simply slagging off journalists. No. Sometimes I’ve also turned my gaze to bad science too. Where it’s been depressing to report on a carnival of studies which seem to set us back sexually. Studies complaining women orgasm too easily, or there’s a ‘clitorocentric conspiracy’ against the vagina, how sex with a partner is 400% better than any other kind of sex you might have, and you can tell whether a woman has vaginal orgasms by her walk.

Let’s not forget my other bugbears. The fake formula and shonky surveys and my goodness this blog’s a treasure chest for those. And if I’m not being irritated by that, then there’s always the problem of psychologists talking about celebrities, or the general ethical issues raised by Big Brother for me to moan about.

Of course, it’s not all been bad news. Anyone would think this blog is only about gripes and grumbles. I’ve always wanted to showcase a variety of sexual experiences within this blog and not just think about sex just for a Western audience. I’ll continue to discuss issues relating to sex and seniors; teenagers; disability; transsexuality; lesbian, gay and bi issues; open relationships; BDSM; sexual health; contraception; prostitution; pornography; reproductive health; pleasure; desire; asexuality; dating; psychosexual problems; showcasing great sex pioneers; talking about safer sex; and as many other topics as I can find for you to read about.

Where to next?
Unlike five years ago, I’m now thinking strategically about this blog – who it’s for, what it does, and seeking to find ways to assess any impact it may have. I’ve noticed over the years it sometimes deviates into areas that interest me, but may not appeal to all readers. So my aim is to ensure the focus of the blog remains around the core things you’re most interested in when you visit – sex, science, and media.

I’m currently involved in overhauling the site so in the new year I hope to have far more open access materials available for you – relationships and sex guides, information about sexual and reproductive health, more advice and links to sources of help, along with practical information for journalists, healthcare professionals, parents, teens and teachers.

I’ve been asked by many readers for more information about how to become an agony aunt/media sex educator, so I’ll be blogging about this – as well as how to write a sex blog – in the not too distant future.

I’ll also be making use of twitter soon, as sometimes I blog about issues people need to hear about fast (particularly developments in science/health), so hopefully that will make messages more accessible. I’ll let you know once I’ve sorted it.

Obviously I’d like to hear what you’d like to see. How would you like this blog to develop over the next year (or five!). Are there any particular things you’d like to see more/less of? Topics you want covered? People you’d like me to interview for the ‘quickies’ section of the blog? Campaigns you want covered? Let me know what your vision is for this blog.

So, happy fifth birthday blog. Big birthday kisses to those of you who’ve been with me from the beginning. For those of you who’ve only recently found this blog I hope you like it enough to stick around for the next half decade. I notice one of my favourite other blogs Mind Hacks has also celebrated it’s fifth birthday too, so congratulations to them.

Time to blow out the candles and make a wish. Of course, I can’t tell you what it is. You’ll have to come back in five years to find out if it’s come true.