By Lily Jeannin
Edited by Tara Jenkins and Mark Potter
The ‘Sexual Revolution’ was part of the larger counterculture of the 1960s, which challenged
the norms and tradition of the previous generation. The ‘Sexual Revolution’ challenged norms regarding sexualities, love, and marriage. It is often represented as a period of total sexual liberation for all. This idea, however, is a romanticised version of what the ‘Sexual Revolution’ was able to achieve. We shall look at how the scope of the ‘Sexual Revolution’ was limited by legislations over women’s rights and those of LGBT people, but we also have to acknowledge the progress that was made towards contraception, perception of women’s sexuality, and attitudes to love and marriage. Lastly, we need to look at the ‘Sexual Revolution’ of the 1960s in the broader context of sexual liberation movements in the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.
The ‘Sexual Revolution’ as we remember it, leading to a sexually free society, is an idealised
fantasy, as minority groups like women and LGBTAQ+ people still faced high levels of
governmental control over their sexual liberties. The legalisation of homosexuality, through
the Sexual Offences Act of 1967 only offered superficial and unequal legality to homosexuals
in Britain. The Act applied to England and Wales, only to be extended to Scotland in 1979
whilst Northern Ireland decriminalised homosexuality in 1982. In addition, the Sexual
Offences Act did not entirely decriminalise homosexuality; public acts, even nonsexual acts
that could be interpreted as displays of homosexuality could lead to a prison sentence between two and five years under the penalty of Gross Indecency.[1]
Furthermore, the age of consent was raised from sixteen to twenty-one for homosexual acts.
According to Thane, this is because there was a fear that young men would be groomed into
homosexuality by their older peers.[2] In this, we can see that there was still general disapproval regarding homosexuality, with a desire to keep it hidden within the private sphere. This seems to be especially the case for homosexuality outside of the masculine sphere. Organizations such as the Gay Liberation Front, or GLF, and the Campaign for Homosexual Equality (CHE) were often accused by their lesbian and transgender members to be marginalised, and their grievances not being considered, especially lesbians and transgender people of color.[3]
Likewise, women’s rights regarding sexuality were still tightly controlled by the state. Willis
argues that the commonly accepted idea of a sexual revolution is superficial: society was in
fact, not accepting of any sexual liberties since there was still an intense desire to legalise and
legislate all sexual acts between adults.[4] Germaine Greer agrees with this viewpoint, as she
argues that the ‘Sexual Revolution’ only did “a peep to what it [could]” have done, meaning
that it had the opportunity to do more, but only pointed out the problems rather than fully
solving them.[5] This was seen with the legislations regarding homosexuality, but also with the debates surrounding the legalisation of abortion.
The legalisation of abortion faces similar problems to the legalisation of homosexuality: it was unequal within Britain and the legislation was only superficial. The Bill legalising abortion in 1966 was, once again, at first limited to England and Wales, Scotland being added to it later on.[6] Northern Ireland only legalised abortion in 2019. Whist the debates on to what extent should abortion be legalised were divisive between prime ministers, the consensus was that women could not have the final say on whether abortion could take place, the 1966 Bill even requiring the approval of two doctors.[7]
The question that prevailed during the debates was whether abortion should be allowed based “strictly on health or on broader social grounds.”[8] In this, we can see a desire to exert control over women’s bodies, giving them very little say in their medical procedures and added to the opposition by protestants and catholic groups. One could go so far as to argue that while legalising abortion, the Bill made it so that women would be deterred from trying to pursue an abortion.[9] One can speculate however, on the impact that the Abortion Bill had on women's sexuality, and if it was the only factor that led to an improvement in women’s conditions in the 1960s and 1970s.
Whilst it is true that legislations passed during the 1960s and 1970s regarding women’s rights and gay rights only provided limited additional freedoms to the individuals impacted, one cannot deny the fact that there were improvements to women and gay people’s conditions. One significant change regarding women’s sexuality came from the beginning of the separation of women’s sexuality from motherhood, which was greatly helped by the commercialisation of the contraceptive pill. This is viewed by historians such as Levi Martin as the “contraceptive revolution” that characterized the ‘Sexual Revolution.’ This was because by separating women’s sexuality from reproduction, it allowed feminists to ask fundamental questions about the position of women’s sexuality, especially in the non-heteronormative sphere.[10]
Giden agrees with such an assessment as he opposes the “purer” sexuality that women enjoyed compared to their “plastic” sexuality before the pill, implying that their sexuality was false, perhaps because they could not own their sexuality as part of their identity.[11] One of those questions was regarding the traditional power dynamic in sexual relations, Feminists like Greer advocated for the elimination of the dominant-subordinate dynamic between partners during intimacy.[12] The idea that there would be a sexual and a neutral party during intercourse was one of the reasons why women were previously reluctant to use mechanical forms of feminine contraception, as it infringed on the traditional idea that no penetrations of any kind should be performed outside of sexual relations.[13]
This was certainly one of the main reasons for the success of the pill, as 150,000 women were
using it in 1962, just a few months after its release in 1961, and by the end of the decade, forty-eight percent of British women were using the pill.[14] The incredible popularity of the pill is due to the fact that the pill could be accessed for free at the Family Planning and was then available through the NHS in 1967 when the Family Planning Act was passed.[15] Despite oppositions to the use of birth control by Catholic and Protestant churches, the Church of England supported the use of birth control, which certainly encouraged Anglican women to use birth control, as it was approved by the heads of their faith.[16] Cook however, claims that the pill was not made available based on the desire for social progress but as a way to control the births without restricting sexuality, unlike abstinence, which was usually the recommended form of protection to avoid having children.[17]
Nonetheless, the pill played a significant role in the emancipation of women during the 1960s, but one cannot forget the fact that it alone is not responsible for the resurgence of new feminist ideas. The increase of women in the workforce, going from making up thirty-four percent of workplace employees in 1950 to forty-three percent of the workforce in 1970, as well as technological advances such as the dishwasher gave women “time to think” and opportunities to discuss their conditions amongst themselves.[18]
Such discussions about the conditions of minorities were also seen in the queer communities,
with organizations like the GLF leaving an indelible mark on Queer History with the acronym
‘GAY’, coming from ‘Good as You’ being first coined by the organization in 1970. To normalize and humanise LGBT people in the public sphere, the organization encouraged the
members to ‘come out’ to their families and friends, which is a practice still in use today.[19]
These practices demonstrate that some changes were made, but one needs to consider how
those changes play a part in the twentieth and early twenty-first century landscape, as well as
why those changes can be seen as quite minimal compared to what was achieved in the next
decades.
The ‘Sexual Revolution’ is often regarded as being limited to the 1960s and 1970s, however,
it plays into a bigger picture of sexual liberation during the twentieth and twenty-first century, which could explain why the progress made during the 1960s and 1970s appear minimal to a modern observer. It can be argued that the ‘Sexual Revolution’ is not limited to the 1960s and 1970s, but that the 1960s was the most significant decade for ‘Sexual Revolutions’ because it gave women more legal liberties regarding sexuality, with the right to abortion, or easier access to contraception.
Women’s liberation during the twentieth century began around the 1920s, according to Rachel Hills, with the emergence of the flapper’s movement, where women used fashion to express their liberties after the hardships of the First World War.[20] The liberties that women had the potential of enjoying during the 1920s however, was limited to young and affluent urban women, which greatly limited the spread of this fashion revolution.[21] Women owning their sexuality and individuality through fashion progressed through the 1950s with the popularization of the bikini.[22] The 1960s retail revolution, with the invention of the mini skirt was continuing the trend of women’s fashion becoming more revealing, allowing women to own their sexuality, rather than hiding it.[23] The retail revolution and the invention of the prêt-à-porter made it much easier for women and men of all classes to experiment with different styles, which played a great role in the expansion of the youth counterculture of the 1960s.[24]
The 1960s also saw a relaxation of morals regarding marriage and sexuality for heterosexual
couples. Divorce figures rose from 25,672 in 1960 to 62,010 in 1970, which was partly due to
reforms to divorce legislations, which made it more affordable, allowing more couples to get a divorce. Thane argues, however, that this alone does not justify the rise in divorces. Thane
supposes that women’s liberation movements meant that women were far less inclined to settle for an unhappy marriage, meaning that they were more likely to ask for a divorce.[25]
Slogans such as ‘Make Love, Not War’ – which were prominent in hippy communities –
advocated for freer sexual morals, and has impacted the current generation with the emergence of the ‘Hook-up Culture’ in the twenty-first century, the idea that one will not have a single sexual partner in their lifetime, and that sexual relations are not inherently associated with marriage.[26] This change regarding attitudes to sexuality and marriage, which first appeared to be less chastised in the 1960s, was seen by the rise in births from unmarried parents from five percent of all births in 1950-2, to 8.2% of all births in 1971.[27] Whilst this rise seems important, children born to unmarried parents remained a minority, which could indicate that there was still a social pressure to conform to traditional relationship archetypes.
To conclude, we remember the 1960s’ ‘Sexual Revolution’ as a time of total sexual liberation
because it is an ideal that we still hope to achieve today, which indicates that this perception of the 1960s is a myth. The 1960’s Sexual Revolution was influenced by social progress from the 1920s, with the goal of second wave feminists and LGBT activists being to give women and gay people concrete and legal sexual liberties. It is perfectly normal that such changes were slow coming and limited, as legal liberties also require grand social changes encompassing the totality of society, not just the urban youth exposed to this activism. Whilst the ‘Sexual Revolution’ of the 1960s did not immediately create societal change, it set the foundations for modern social activism, and gave the first important liberties to minority groups that allowed them to continue fighting for a total, true ‘Sexual Revolution’.
Figure 1: Coco Chanel, The Little Black Dress in Vogue (1926), Condé Nast Archive, in Marnie Fogg and Valerie Steele (eds.), Fashion: The Whole Story – Revisited and Updated (London: Thames &Hudson, 2020)
Figure 2: Brigitte Bardot, Et Dieu Créa La Femme (1956). Vanity Fair, accessed December 9 2020
Figure 3: Models wearing a range of styles at the opening of a new boutique ‘Just Looking’ on King’s Road, Chelsea, London. (1967) in Marnie Fogg and Valerie Steele (eds.), Fashion: The Whole Story – Revisited and Updated (London: Thames & Hudson, 2020)
Figure 4: Julie Andrews, Julie Andrew posing in a miniskirt for Vogue (1967), accessed December 9, 2020
Notes
[1] Pat Thane (ed.), Divided Britain: A History of Britain, 1900 to the Present (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018) p. 282.
[2] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 282.
[3] Thane, Divided Britain, p.334.
[4] Ellen Willis, ‘Towards a Feminist Sexual Revolution’, Social Text, 6/1 (1982), p. 10.
[5] Germaine Greer, The Female Eunuch (New York: Harper Collins, 1970), p. 21.
[6] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 284.
[7] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 284.
[8] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 284.
[9] Peter Clarke, ‘In Place of Strife 1963-70’, in Peter Clarke (ed.), Hope and Glory Britain 1900-2000 (London: Penguin Books, 2004), pp. 308.
[10] John Levi Martin, ‘Structuring the Sexual Revolution’, Theory and Society, 25/1 (1996), p. 127; Willis, Feminist Sexual Revolution, p. 6.
[11] Hera Cook, ‘The English Sexual Revolution: Technology and Social Change’, History Workshop Journal, 59/1 (2005), p. 111.
[12] Greer, The Female Eunuch, p. 21.
[13] Cook, The English Sexual Revolution, p. 114.
[14] Cook, The English Sexual Revolution, p. 115.
[15] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 285.
[16] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 285.
[17] Cook, The English Sexual Revolution, p. 112.
[18] Levi Martin, ‘Structuring the Sexual Revolution’, pp. 127-150; Greer, The Female Eunuch, p. 15.
[19] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 334.
[20] See Figure 1; Rachel Hills, ‘What Every Generation Gets Wrong About Sex’, Times Magazine, <https://time.com/3611781/sexual-revolution-revisited/> [Accessed December 9, 2020].
[21] Estelle B. Freedman ‘The New Woman: Changing Views of Women in the 1920s’, The Journal of American History, 61/2 (1974), pp. 373.
[22] See Figure 2; Foreman, Katya, ‘Why the Bikini Became a Fashion Classic’, BBC Culture,
December 9 2020].
[23] See Figure 3; Thane, Divided Britain, p. 262.
[24] See Figure 4; Marnie Fogg and Valerie Steele (eds.), Fashion: The Whole Story – Revisited and Updated (London: Thames & Hudson, 2020), p. 354.
[25] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 263.
[26] Hills, ‘What Every Generation Gets Wrong About Sex’.
[27] Thane, Divided Britain, p. 263.
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Friedan, Betty, The Feminine Mystique. New York: Vail-Ballou Press, 1963
Greer, Germaine, The Female Eunuch. New York: Harper Collins, 1970
Secondary Sources
Clarke, Peter. ‘In Place of Strife 1963-70’, in Peter Clarke (ed.), Hope and Glory Britain
1900-2000. London: Penguin Books, 2004
Cook, Hera. ‘The English Sexual Revolution: Technology and Social Change’. History
Workshop Journal. 59/1, 2005
Fogg, Marnie and Steele, Valerie. eds. Fashion: The Whole Story – Revisited and Updated.
London: Thames & Hudson, 2020
Foreman, Katya, ‘Why the Bikini Became a Fashion Classic’, BBC Culture
December 9, 2020
Freedman, Estelle B. ‘The New Woman: Changing Views of Women in the 1920s’. The
Journal of American History. 61/2, 1974
Hills, Rachel, ‘What Every Generation Gets Wrong About Sex’, Times Magazine.
<https://time.com/3611781/sexual-revolution-revisited/> Accessed November 24, 2020
Martin, John Levi. ‘Structuring the Sexual Revolution’. Theory and Society. 25/1, 1996
Smiler, Andrew. ‘Evolving Understandings of Masculinity’, in Andrew Smiler. ed. Is
Masculinity Toxic? A Primer for the 21st Century. London: Thames & Hudson, 2019
Thane, Pat. ed. Divided Britain: A History of Britain, 1900 to the Present. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2018
Willis, Ellen. ‘Towards a Feminist Sexual Revolution’. Social Text. 6/1, 1982
Comments