Following Trump’s victory in the US, the notion of a “sex strike,” echoing a form of women’s activism that began in South Korea, has taken social media by storm. However, like many notions that become buzzwords, this concept transcends its literal interpretation.
This version of the “4B movement” serves as a rallying point for expressing the apprehension and anger of women nationwide, as the country increasingly fails to guarantee basic reproductive rights and healthcare. The fear of unplanned pregnancies or complications following the overturning of Roe v Wade is palpable. Adding to this anxiety is the so-called attitude gap: while young men have gravitated towards conservative views, women generally maintain more liberal stances. Experts tout this as a fertility crisis, but it ostensibly represents a crisis in women’s diminishing autonomy.
Given these circumstances, opting out of sexual relationships, cohabitation, and motherhood starts to seem like a practical choice.
In the US, this 4B trend is largely embraced as a feminist initiative and even mistakenly linked to separatist movements and political lesbianism. Yet, this reflects a misunderstanding of its roots and intentions. This misconception also highlights the often-limited awareness of feminist political theory and the history of feminism as a revolutionary social movement.
The main critique of a sex strike is that the threat of rape still looms. Many responses to women’s videos stress this harsh reality, pointing out that not all women have the freedom to choose. The grim slogan, “your body, my choice,” has circulated online since Trump’s election, encapsulating this somber truth.
It’s also debatable whether a sex strike is a truly feminist act. Viewing a sex ban as revolutionary may reinforce the very issues activists seek to combat. This ideology frames sex as a transactional act—work that women perform for men and can limit or withhold to demand change. This isn’t revolutionary. Historically, patriarchy has dictated that sex is something men desire and women acquiesce to. This view contributed to the extended delay in recognizing marital rape as a crime—because, under marital law, a husband couldn’t “steal” what was deemed his right. By casting sex as labor, it risks commodifying and objectifying it, and the problematic implication is that what can be traded or withheld can also be seized. This is not an empowering point from which to demand transformation between genders.
Moreover, this interpretation was never the essence of separatism or political lesbianism—understanding these movements’ tactics could provide valuable insights.
In the women’s liberation movement across the Western world, separatism often involved entirely women-run communities. During the 1970s and 1980s, initiatives like women-only communes and businesses in the US and Europe flourished, demonstrating women’s ability to manage independently. These endeavors empowered women by arming them with traditionally male-dominated skills like construction and mechanics. Separatism was not about shunning men but proving women’s self-sufficiency. While there were lesbian communities, separatism wasn’t exclusively lesbian—rather, it encompassed women-only living and politics, with no mandates regarding individual sexual orientation.
Political lesbianism in the UK can be traced back to the document “Love Your Enemy?”, born from a lively debate at a revolutionary feminist conference. First shared in the Wires newsletter in 1979, and later by Onlywomen Press in 1981, this article provoked discussions about the societal expectations and conditioning around sexuality, challenging the assumed norm of heterosexuality amidst the women’s liberation movement.
During the vibrant era of intersecting social justice movements like gay liberation and Black Power, many believed a revolution was imminent. Radical feminists concentrated their energies solely on the women’s movement, cautioning against domestic distractions where women disproportionately bore caregiving burdens and faced violence. The idealized nuclear family had already been scrutinized. Political lesbianism wasn’t about mandating same-sex relationships but committing fully to the movement.
The popular portrayal of 4B casts it as a sex strike led by young, seemingly marketable, heterosexual women. Instead, we might consider forsaking these sexist stereotypes of sex and sexuality and envision a fair future where men and women aren’t just predator or prey. Rather than a sex strike, another reputable form of protest exists: a collective workers’ strike. This act involves withdrawing labor that powers the systems overseeing our lives. Dismantle patriarchy, not sex.
