There’s a persistent belief in some circles that if we just criticized women enough for their sexual decisions, they’d suddenly make the “right” choices. The logic seems simple: apply social pressure, and behavior will change. But this approach doesn’t just fail—it actively makes things worse.
Shame operates on the assumption that people don’t understand consequences, that they’re acting out of ignorance or moral deficiency. But most women making sexual decisions are doing exactly what all humans do: weighing their options, considering their desires and circumstances, and making choices that make sense within their own lives. Heaping shame onto those decisions doesn’t introduce new information or insight. It just adds suffering.
When shame becomes the dominant response to women’s sexuality, it creates a climate of silence and secrecy rather than one of thoughtfulness and responsibility. Women who feel judged are less likely to seek out sexual health resources, less likely to have honest conversations with partners about boundaries and protection, and less likely to ask for help when they need it. The shame that’s supposed to prevent “bad decisions” often prevents the very communication and care that lead to good outcomes.
The evidence bears this out across cultures and time periods. Societies that rely heavily on sexual shame don’t see better sexual health outcomes or more stable relationships. Instead, they see higher rates of STIs, more unintended pregnancies, and more sexual violence—all problems that thrive in environments where open discussion is taboo. When people can’t talk honestly about sex without fear of condemnation, they can’t navigate it safely.
There’s also something deeply paternalistic about the assumption that women need shame to make good choices. It positions women as perpetually childlike, incapable of thinking through their own decisions without external moral enforcement. This isn’t just insulting; it’s infantilizing in a way that undermines the actual development of sexual autonomy and wisdom.
Real sexual ethics—the kind that actually helps people make choices aligned with their values and wellbeing—requires self-reflection, honest communication, and the ability to learn from experience. None of these things flourish under shame. You can’t reflect honestly on your choices when you’re terrified of judgment. You can’t communicate openly with partners when vulnerability feels dangerous. You can’t learn from mistakes when admitting them means social annihilation.
What does work is education, access to resources, and cultures that support genuine autonomy. When women have comprehensive information about sexual health, when they have the economic and social power to enforce their boundaries, when they can talk openly about what they want and don’t want—that’s when you see better outcomes across the board.
The irony is that many of the people most invested in shaming women’s sexual choices claim to care about family stability, child wellbeing, and social cohesion. But shame corrodes trust, breeds resentment, and teaches people to hide rather than to be honest. These aren’t exactly the building blocks of healthy relationships or strong communities.
If we actually want people to make thoughtful, responsible sexual decisions, we need to create conditions where thoughtfulness and responsibility are possible. That means replacing judgment with education, shame with support, and condemnation with the kind of honest, respectful dialogue that treats women as the full human beings they are—capable of making their own choices, learning from their experiences, and navigating their own lives.