Studies in the Psychology of Sex, Volume 4: Sexual Selection In Man

In Short

This volume is a foundational psychological exploration of how humans choose their partners, moving away from Darwin’s aesthetic focus toward a biological understanding of sensory stimuli. It meticulously categorizes the roles of touch, smell, hearing, and vision in triggering the sexual impulse, or "tumescence." By grounding human attraction in ancient, evolutionary reflexes—such as the connection between ticklishness and the sexual embrace—it provides a bridge between animal behavior and human civilization. Its enduring value lies in its systematic, clinical approach to dismantling the mystery of desire, treating intimacy as a measurable, sensory phenomenon.

The Story

The inquiry begins with a bold premise: sexual selection is not driven by a refined, conscious sense of beauty, but rather by fundamental, often hidden, sensory appeals. The author argues that Darwin, while brilliant, obscured this process by attributing "aesthetic preferences" to creatures that operate on far more primal urges. Instead, the book posits that love is a physiological response—a complexus of stimuli—designed to arouse the body. This argument unfolds by examining the four "channels" of human attraction: touch, smell, hearing, and vision.

The discussion of touch reveals it as the most primitive and intimate sense, a foundational element of the sexual orgasm. The narrative bridges the gap between simple nervous reflexes and complex adult behavior, noting that even seemingly unrelated actions, like tickling, share a nervous history with sexual embrace. The book explores this through an unusual case study of an infant whose early, intense attachment to her mother’s breasts persists through life, eventually manifesting as a lifelong sexual preference for women. This serves as a pivot, illustrating how a specific, early tactile experience can define the trajectory of a person’s entire romantic life.

Moving to smell, the author examines how this sense, once vital for animal mating, has become an "auxiliary" in human life. Despite its diminished status in polite society, the text details the persistent power of odors, noting that body scents often dictate subconscious antipathies or attractions. The narrative documents the "olfactory kiss" and the historical use of musk, arguing that these scents operate on a deep, imaginative level. The text candidly acknowledges the social difficulties of these findings, noting that many people experience genuine misery or impotence due to intense, involuntary olfactory sensitivities.

The focus then shifts to the "intellectual" senses: hearing and vision. The author treats the human voice as a primary sexual stimulant, drawing parallels to the calls of animals, while simultaneously acknowledging the role of music in facilitating intimacy. The exploration of vision concludes the arc, moving from the appreciation of body types—such as the historical and biological significance of pelvic development—to the psychological impact of rarity and exoticism in beauty. The text ends by examining "parity," or the tendency for humans to be attracted to those who resemble them, debunking the myth that opposites necessarily attract. Throughout, the author maintains that while civilized humans attempt to intellectualize these choices, the underlying mechanisms remain firmly rooted in the ancient, biological realities of our species.

How It Unfolds

The sensory foundation The author establishes that sexual selection is not an abstract aesthetic game but a physical response to specific stimuli. He rejects the notion that love is a matter of "good taste," defining it instead as a response to triggers that induce tumescence.

The primitive language of touch This section maps the deepest connections between the body and desire, identifying touch as the most primary sense. The author links seemingly trivial behaviors, like tickling, to the fundamental cycle of sexual tension and release.

The lingering power of smell The narrative examines why scent remains a potent, if often ignored, driver of human relationships. It highlights the conflict between modern olfactory social norms and the primal, often involuntary, reactions humans have to the natural scents of others.

The musical and auditory appeal The book explores the voice as a source of sexual attraction, comparing its impact to the calls of birds or other animals. It suggests that our sensitivity to melody and rhythm is deeply tied to our nervous apparatus and physical impulses.

The visual ideal and the return to parity The final movement analyzes how visual preferences, such as pelvic shape or exotic features, are shaped by both biology and culture. The author concludes by presenting evidence that humans are predominantly drawn to partners who share their own traits, favoring similarity over difference.

The People

The book focuses less on specific individuals than on the collective human type, though it draws heavily from the clinical records of physicians like Féré and Moll. One central, haunting figure is the "neurotic" girl who, from infancy, developed an obsessive, persistent attachment to her mother’s breasts. Her story serves as a case study for the author, showing how a single, powerful sensory imprint at a young age can create a permanent sexual orientation that refuses to conform to social expectations or marriage.

Another key figure is the "commercial traveler," an unremarkable man who, despite his lack of traditional attributes, finds himself at the center of a social and sexual game. He acts as a foil to the women he encounters, particularly the young, tragic "Dolly," whose life of instability and sexual vulnerability illustrates the author’s clinical perspective on the intersection of heritage, alcohol, and the sexual impulse. These figures are not protagonists in a traditional sense, but samples of humanity. They are caught between their inherited biology and the social pressures of their time, ultimately demonstrating the author's argument that, despite our attempts to create complex social lives, we are often at the mercy of our own sensory architecture.

In Its Own Voice

"Love springs up as a response to a number of stimuli to tumescence, the object that most adequately arouses tumescence being that which evokes love; the question of æsthetic beauty, although it develops on this basis, is not itself fundamental and need not even be consciously present at all."

This passage serves as the author's primary thesis, arguing that beauty is an effect of sexual attraction, not its cause.

"If the sense of smell were abolished altogether the life of mankind would continue as before, with little or no sensible modification, though the pleasures of life, and especially of eating and drinking, would be to some extent diminished."

The author frames this observation to contextualize why, despite our evolutionary history, smell has become a secondary sense in human civilization.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is a rigorous attempt to demystify the sexual impulse by stripping away the moral and aesthetic layers that human culture has placed upon it. The central argument is that love is a biological mechanism, not a spiritual one. The author questions the extent to which free will exists in partner selection, suggesting that what we call "falling in love" is actually a sophisticated, involuntary response to a constellation of sensory data. It is an exploration of the tension between our animal, evolutionary heritage—which relies on pheromones, sound, and physical form—and our civilized, intellectual lives. By analyzing these impulses, the book seeks to define the boundaries of the human, asking where the biological machine ends and the conscious, choosing person begins.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate clinical precision and an unflinching look at human behavior will find this book deeply compelling. It is written in a style that is both detached and deeply curious, characteristic of an era that was just beginning to apply the scientific method to the mysteries of the interior life. It does not offer romantic platitudes; instead, it offers a window into the late Victorian and early 20th-century mind, which was grappling with the radical idea that we are shaped by forces we do not fully understand.

The book is not without its difficulties. The prose is dense, academic, and deeply rooted in the scientific terminology of the 1920s. Readers should be prepared for the author’s period-typical reliance on anecdotal "savages" and "neurotic" case studies, which reflect the social attitudes and racial hierarchies of his time. However, for those interested in the history of psychology or the evolution of how we think about intimacy, the book provides an invaluable perspective. It feels like reading a patient, exhaustive investigation into the machinery of desire. What stays with you is the author's calm, persistent insistence that our most "elevated" emotions are built on the most basic sensory foundations, reminding us that there is a profound, quiet logic behind the ways we choose, and are chosen by, one another.