A
selfish-gene hypothesis about status, stress, and late-life strategy
Erectile dysfunction is usually
discussed as a medical problem, a vascular problem, or a psychological problem.
In everyday life it is often framed as a private frustration, and in medicine
it is often framed as a symptom. Those framings are useful, but they are not
the only ones available. If we take an evolutionary perspective, we can ask a
different question: could some forms of erectile dysfunction, especially the
stress-triggered and situation-dependent kind, reflect a designed feature of
the system rather than only a breakdown?
I want to propose a hypothesis that
treats a subset of erectile dysfunction as a conditional strategy. The core
idea is that in certain social and physiological circumstances, losing erectile
function in competitive or evaluative contexts can protect an older or weaker
male from costly social and physical consequences. It can reduce the pressure
to compete in the reproductive tournament, lower the risk of provoking rivals,
and reduce the chances of being punished, injured, or ostracized. Crucially, in
this proposal, erectile dysfunction does not necessarily abolish reproduction.
Instead, it can push reproduction into lower-risk contexts, meaning private,
calm, supportive situations with a trusted mate, rather than public,
high-pressure, status-laden sexual performance.
This is not a claim that all
erectile dysfunction is adaptive. A large portion of erectile dysfunction is
clearly linked to vascular disease, diabetes, medication effects, endocrine
changes, neurologic issues, and the general wear and tear of aging. Those
causes can be straightforward pathology or modern mismatch. My claim is
narrower: psychogenic and competition-sensitive erectile dysfunction has the
right properties to be a facultative switch, and we should at least consider
the possibility that selection shaped that switch because it helped individuals
survive and remain socially embedded long enough to gain additional
reproductive and inclusive-fitness benefits.
Sneaky
males and alternative reproductive tactics in primates
If you step back and look across
primates, the idea of “covert reproduction” is not speculative at all. It is
one of the recurring patterns you see whenever a social system produces high
reproductive skew. A few males, typically those with rank, coalitions, or
physical formidability, can monopolize mating opportunities. The rest do not
simply become nonparticipants. They shift tactics. They mate when the dominant
male is distracted, they form consortships that pull a female away from the
group, they exploit moments of social ambiguity, or they rely on female choice
and concealed timing. These are alternative reproductive tactics in a very
literal sense.
A clean empirical example comes from
rhesus macaques. There is evidence for an “audience effect” in which
subordinate males and females shift mating behavior depending on who is
watching, consistent with the idea that sexual behavior is strategically managed
to reduce retaliation from dominants. The point is not that macaques are
calculating in a human-like way. The point is that selection has had plenty of
time to build behavioral rules that reduce the costs of mating under dominance
constraints.
Baboons give a related pattern
because they are a classic case of rank and reproductive skew. High-ranking
males often obtain most mating access, but “incomplete control” is the default.
There are opportunities for opportunistic or sneaky copulations, and whether
those translate into paternity depends on a mix of timing, female behavior, and
the practical limits of mate guarding. Long-term work on savanna baboons has
explicitly grappled with the gap between mating opportunities and paternity
outcomes, which is exactly where “sneaky male” strategies live.
Chimpanzees are particularly
relevant because they show a menu of male tactics. Work in wild chimpanzees
describes multiple mating strategies such as possessive mate guarding,
opportunistic mating, consortships, and extra-group mating. The details differ
by community and ecology, but the overall point is stable: even in a system
with strong dominance effects, subordinate males can still achieve some
reproduction by exploiting windows of access that do not require direct victory
in a dominance contest.
Orangutans formalize “covert versus
overt” into two male morphs. Orangutans show male bimaturism: sexually mature
males can remain unflanged for long periods, while flanged males develop the
prominent cheek pads and other secondary sexual characteristics associated with
the classic dominant phenotype. These morphs are tied to different reproductive
tactics, often described as something like “sit, call, and wait” for flanged
males versus “go, search, and find” for unflanged males. In other words, one
tactic is more overt and advertisement-based, and the other is more roaming and
opportunistic.
What matters for this broader
argument is that orangutan tactics appear to be condition-dependent rather than
a simple fixed caste system. Recent long-term paternity work has tested whether
these tactics map onto reproductive success in more naturalistic settings,
precisely because the evolutionary logic depends on whether the “sneaky”
pathway is a meaningful route to actual paternity.
If we translate this back to the ED
hypothesis, the parallel is straightforward. In primates, selection often
builds mechanisms that reduce direct confrontation when confrontation is too
costly, while preserving some probability of reproduction through lower-visibility
channels. In this framing, stress-triggered ED is not “giving up on
reproduction.” It is closer to a gating mechanism that prevents conspicuous,
rivalry-inviting mating effort under threat while leaving open the possibility
of sexual function in private, low-threat contexts. That is the same strategic
shape we see in primate alternative tactics, even though the human mechanism
would be physiological and psychological rather than a discrete morph.
It is also useful to think about this in the broader logic
of harem and one-male systems, where reproductive access is highly skewed. In
mountain gorillas, for example, a dominant silverback can achieve
disproportionate mating access while other males remain on the periphery,
tolerated but reproductively constrained. In those systems, the central problem
for a lower-ranking or aging male is how to remain inside the protective social
umbrella without continually triggering the dominant male’s countermeasures. A
context-sensitive reduction in overt sexual performance could, in principle,
function as a “peripheralization” mechanism that does not require physical
exile. The male is still present for kin, protection, provisioning, and group
membership, but he is less legible as an active sexual rival, and therefore
less likely to provoke costly retaliation. The key point is that this is not
necessarily infertility or total withdrawal. It is a credible, hard-to-fake
shift away from conspicuous mating effort that allows continued social
embedding while preserving whatever low-risk reproductive opportunity remains.
Menopause
and the evolutionary rationale for reproductive cessation
Menopause is one of the great
teaching examples for evolutionary reasoning because, on its face, it looks
like a direct contradiction of natural selection. If selection favors traits
that increase reproduction, why would females stop reproducing well before the
end of life? The modern consensus is not that there is one final answer, but
that there are a small number of serious hypotheses that make distinct
predictions, and the best accounts generally involve kin selection and
life-history tradeoffs.
The most influential family of
explanations is the grandmother hypothesis. The logic is that in humans,
offspring are unusually expensive. Children remain dependent for a long time,
and mothers benefit from help that increases the survival and later reproductive
success of those children. If an older woman can increase her inclusive fitness
more by helping existing descendants than by producing another high-risk infant
late in life, then selection can favor the cessation of reproduction coupled
with an extended post-reproductive lifespan. This hypothesis is tied to
arguments about provisioning, skill, and the role of older females in
supporting daughters and grandchildren, especially in ecologies where food
acquisition and knowledge matter.
A related but distinct account is
often called the mother hypothesis. Here the emphasis is not primarily on
grandmaternal benefits, but on the direct fitness risk of late-life
reproduction. As maternal age rises, risks to the mother and risks to dependent
offspring rise. If late pregnancies increase the probability that a mother dies
and leaves several dependent children without care, then continuing to
reproduce can reduce total fitness. Under that logic, stopping reproduction can
be favored because it protects the survival of existing offspring who still
require maternal investment. This hypothesis has been explicitly modeled and
tested using demographic approaches.
Then there is the reproductive
conflict hypothesis, which is conceptually elegant and, in my view,
underappreciated in popular discussions. It emphasizes intergenerational
competition. If mothers and daughters overlap reproductively, their offspring
compete for resources and care, and this conflict can reduce inclusive fitness.
A mechanism that reduces reproductive overlap between generations can be
favored if it resolves a conflict that would otherwise lower total descendant
output. Cant and Johnstone famously formalized this logic, and it has been used
to interpret patterns of unusually low reproductive overlap in humans.
One reason menopause stays so
interesting is that it is rare in nature, which implies it requires special
social and demographic conditions. That is why comparisons with toothed whales
have become important. Killer whales and a small number of other toothed whale
species show extended post-reproductive lifespans, and researchers have argued
that the relevant conditions include stable kin groups and opportunities for
older females to increase descendant success without continuing reproduction,
while also avoiding reproductive conflict with younger females. Recent analyses
continue to develop and test this framework.
If you connect all of this back to
the ED analogy, you get a useful clarification. Menopause is not simply “older
females stop reproducing.” It is a life-history reallocation shaped by the cost
structure of late-life reproduction and the payoff structure of kin-directed
investment. The proposed male analogue should therefore not be framed as a hard
fertility stop, because men do not have that biology. It should be framed as a
facultative shift away from the most dangerous and socially punishable forms of
mating competition, paired with continued capacity for reproduction under
low-threat conditions. That keeps the analogy at the level where it is
strongest: strategic reallocation under changing late-life costs, rather than
mechanistic symmetry.
One more nuance that matters here is
the timing of selection pressure relative to the ages at which the most severe,
clearly organic forms of erectile dysfunction tend to appear. In forager
demography, “average lifespan” is often misleading because early mortality
pulls it down, but the more relevant quantity for selection is conditional
survival once someone makes it through childhood and into adulthood.
Cross-cultural work on hunter-gatherer survival curves shows substantial
survival into midlife and meaningful post-reproductive lifespan, even though
mortality remains high compared to modern societies.
In that context, it is plausible that a
stress-sensitive, context-dependent gating system could be shaped by selection
because it affects reproduction and social risk in the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s,
which are ages where many men historically reproduced and where coalition
membership still strongly determined survival and mating opportunity. At the
same time, the advanced, late-life forms of ED that track vascular
deterioration and generalized senescence become much more common as age
increases, and those later failures are less likely to be adaptations in their
own right, because selection is weaker at older ages and because many of these
mechanisms reflect broader physiological decline.
This is exactly where antagonistic
pleiotropy becomes a clean interpretive tool: traits that improve early-life
performance and reproductive competitiveness can be favored even if they carry
downstream costs that manifest later, when selection has less leverage to
eliminate them.
Under that view, the early, reversible,
threat-linked pattern is the best candidate for an evolved “tournament gating”
feature, while the severe late-life phenotype is more plausibly senescent
breakdown, mismatch, or a pleiotropic cost of earlier-life design priorities.
Why
the male reproductive tournament needs an “off ramp”
In many social mammals, male
reproductive success is high variance. Some males gain disproportionate mating
access, and many males gain less. This creates intense selection pressure on
traits that increase mating effort and competitive ability: risk-taking,
aggressive dominance displays, and the willingness to engage in confrontation.
The problem is that this tournament is not free. It carries a nontrivial
probability of injury, social retaliation, and exclusion from valuable
coalitions.
As males age, the cost-benefit ratio
changes. The marginal benefit of aggressive competition can fall if status is
already established, if the male’s condition is declining, or if the male’s
social role has shifted toward parenting, provisioning, and alliance
maintenance. At the same time, the marginal costs can rise because recovery is
slower, injuries accumulate, and social tolerance for disruptive competitive
behavior may drop. In a small-scale social world, the consequences of being
seen as a destabilizing sexual competitor can be severe. If you lose your
coalition, you do not just lose mating opportunities. You lose protection,
resource access, and the social framework that makes survival reliable.
A selfish-gene logic can therefore
justify a mechanism that sometimes says: do not escalate. Stop advertising.
Stop competing in high-risk contexts. Keep your place in the group. If
reproduction happens, let it happen in the least socially costly way.
The
key observation: erectile function is context sensitive
The most important piece of
phenomenology for this hypothesis is something many people already recognize,
even if they have never described it in evolutionary language. A man can fail
to attain an erection under pressure, scrutiny, novelty, conflict, or perceived
judgment, and yet be fully capable under calm, affectionate, low-threat
conditions. This is not subtle. It is one of the defining features of
psychogenic erectile dysfunction, and it is strongly suggestive that sexual
function is not a simple on-off state determined only by “hardware.” It is a
system that is gated by threat, attention, and social meaning.
From a mechanistic perspective, this
makes sense. Erection requires a physiological state consistent with safety and
parasympathetic dominance. If the nervous system is treating the environment as
dangerous, evaluative, or status-volatile, sympathetic activation rises. That
state is excellent for vigilance and action, and it is terrible for sexual
performance. The proximate mechanism is therefore already built to suppress
erection when threat is high. The evolutionary question is whether that
suppression is merely an inconvenient side effect, or whether it sometimes
served as an adaptive control feature.
If the system suppresses erection
during threat, it will inevitably suppress erection during social threats too.
Social threats can be just as biologically salient as physical threats in a
primate that depends on coalition membership. A humiliating failure, a public
sexual challenge, or a perceived attempt to take someone else’s mate can all
carry risk. In that light, situation-dependent erectile dysfunction can be
reframed as a threat response that prevents an individual from entering an
arena where the potential social costs exceed the expected gains.
Erectile
dysfunction as an honest signal that reduces rivalry
One advantage of this kind of
mechanism is that it is hard to fake. A male can verbally claim he is not
competing, but claims can be strategic. An involuntary failure of performance,
especially if it is reliable under stress, is not as easily manipulated. That
makes it a plausible honest signal. It communicates, whether the person intends
it or not, that he is not currently a reproductive threat in the public,
high-status arena.
It is important to be careful here.
I am not claiming that men consciously “signal” erectile dysfunction to other
men in some theatrical way. The claim is that a physiological constraint can
have a social meaning, and that meaning can feed back into social dynamics. If
other males learn that a given male is not a consistent competitor under
pressure, they may treat him as less threatening. In a dominance hierarchy,
reducing perceived threat can translate into real safety. It can mean fewer
challenges, less harassment, and less risk of violent escalation.
This can also help explain a subtle
point that matters for the hypothesis: the mechanism does not need to abolish
reproduction to have tournament effects. It only needs to suppress the type of
reproduction that triggers retaliation. In many social systems, covert or
low-visibility mating is tolerated differently than overt mate stealing or
dominance-based sexual display. The fitness logic can be: reduce the
conspicuousness of mating effort while maintaining the possibility of
reproduction in low-cost contexts.
Covert
reproduction and alternative tactics
This is where the analogy to
alternative reproductive tactics becomes useful. In many species, males who
cannot reliably win direct contests do not simply give up. They shift tactics.
They may become “sneakers,” mate opportunistically, form alliances, or pursue
reproduction through low-risk channels. The details vary, but the general logic
is consistent: when direct competition is too costly, selection can favor
mechanisms that redirect behavior toward less risky reproductive pathways.
In that framework, stress-linked
erectile dysfunction can be interpreted as a gating mechanism that prevents a
man from participating in the most punishing form of the tournament:
high-pressure performance that carries status implications and the potential to
provoke rivals. The same man may still be capable of reproduction in private,
supportive contexts where there is no audience, no acute judgment, and minimal
threat of retaliation. That looks less like total shutdown and more like
tactical modulation.
This is also where the menopause
analogy becomes both helpful and potentially misleading. Menopause is a
relatively abrupt and biologically fixed shift in female fertility. The
functional analogy I care about is not the mechanistic similarity, because the
mechanisms are clearly different. The analogy is that both can shift late-life
strategy away from the highest-risk reproduction and toward social roles that
preserve survival and family success. For men, the plausible version is not a
hard stop in fertility. It is a context-sensitive reduction in overt mating
competition that promotes continued group membership and stable paternal or kin
investment.
I also think it is worth taking seriously that the general
reduction in sexuality and “horniness” that many people experience with age
could itself be a strategic response to competition, not just a passive
decline. In both males and females, overt sexual motivation can make you
conspicuous. It puts you into the arena of rivalry, judgment, mate-guarding,
and reputational hazard. If you are older, less dominant, or simply less
interested in paying the costs of the tournament, there is a selfish-gene logic
to turning the volume down. You become less likely to provoke conflict, less
likely to trigger retaliation, and less likely to destabilize the social fabric
that you still depend on for belonging and security. At the same time, you are
not necessarily “out of the game.” You can remain socially embedded, maintain
pair bonds, invest in offspring and kin, and still reproduce opportunistically
under low-threat conditions if the opportunity exists. In that framing, reduced
libido and reduced conspicuous sexual signaling can be understood, at least in
part, as a calibrated shift in mating effort that lowers competitive exposure
while preserving the option value of reproduction, rather than as pure
maladaptive decay.
Why
group membership is an individual fitness asset
A skeptic might say: why would
selection ever favor a trait that reduces sexual performance? The answer is
that sexual performance is not the only contributor to fitness, and it is not
always the dominant one. In a social species, continued access to the group is
itself a resource. It provides safety, food-sharing opportunities, alliance
support, and a platform for helping offspring survive and reproduce. If an
older male faces a real risk that competitive mating will trigger punishment or
expulsion, then losing the ability to perform in those contexts can be
protective.
This is the selfish-gene core. It is
not altruistic restraint for the benefit of the group. It is self-preserving
strategy under constraints. The individual survives longer, maintains access to
resources, and retains the chance to reproduce when conditions permit. Even if
reproduction becomes less frequent, the overall expected genetic payoff can
rise if the alternative is injury, death, or social exclusion.
It also fits an intuitive
observation. Many men do not want to compete indefinitely. They often want
stability, respect, and family continuity more than they want constant sexual
contest. In that sense, a physiological off-ramp that appears when competition
becomes too costly might align with the life-history shift that an older male
would benefit from making anyway.
Predictions
that would support or refute the hypothesis
If this is a real evolved strategy
for a subset of erectile dysfunction, it should produce patterns that differ
from pure vascular aging. Several predictions follow naturally.
First, the phenomenon should be
strongly context dependent. Erectile dysfunction should be most pronounced in
environments that trigger social-evaluative threat: new partners, perceived
judgment, unstable status, rivalry, conflict, and novelty under scrutiny. It
should be less pronounced in stable, affectionate, low-pressure contexts,
especially with trusted partners and high privacy.
Second, it should be at least
partially reversible on short timescales, because it is mediated by stress
physiology and attention, not only by long-term vascular deterioration. If it
is a gating mechanism, changing the gate conditions should change the outcome.
Third, it should correlate more with
perceived social threat and bargaining power than with chronological age alone.
Two men of the same age should differ based on status stability, relationship
security, health, and the perceived risk of rivalry. The man who is more
vulnerable to sanction should show stronger gating effects.
Fourth, it should predict shifts in
behavior. Men who exhibit competition-linked erectile dysfunction should, on
average, invest more in kin-directed roles and alliance maintenance, not
because they are morally better but because their strategy has shifted. That
shift might include more parenting, more provisioning, more mentoring, more
conflict avoidance, and more coalition-support behavior.
Fifth, it should show meaningful
cross-cultural variation. In ecologies or social systems where male-male
competition is intense and punishment for sexual provocation is high, the
gating pattern should be stronger. In settings where sexual competition is low
and long-term pair bonds are protected by norms that reduce rivalry, the gating
pattern may be weaker.
None of these predictions are proof,
but they make the hypothesis scientifically legible. They also create a way to
separate the hypothesis from a simpler claim like “stress causes ED,” which is
true but not explanatory in an evolutionary sense.
Alternative
explanations and why they matter
Any serious discussion has to
separate adaptive hypotheses from byproduct hypotheses. A byproduct account
says erectile dysfunction is simply what happens when vascular health declines,
when stress rises, or when hormones shift, with no special function. That
account will explain a large portion of cases and should not be dismissed.
The point of the present hypothesis
is that byproduct accounts do not automatically explain the specific
design-like features of psychogenic ED, especially its context sensitivity and
social-evaluative triggers. A system can be both constrained and designed. The
same physiology that prevents erection under threat could be a simple
constraint, but it could also have been tuned by selection because it prevented
individuals from making dangerously costly choices in certain contexts.
To keep the argument honest, the
best version of this paper treats erectile dysfunction as a heterogeneous
category. Some fraction is organic pathology. Some fraction is anxiety-driven
without obvious adaptive value in modern settings. Some fraction may be a
misfiring of a defensive system in an environment saturated with chronic
stress, sexual scripts, pornography novelty, and performance surveillance. And
some fraction, especially the competition-linked pattern, could reflect an
evolved gating function that once reduced severe costs in small groups.
Why
this hypothesis is worth stating, even if it turns out wrong
There is a practical reason to
articulate evolutionary hypotheses even when they are speculative. They change
what we look for. They push us to measure context, status, threat, and
coalition dynamics, rather than treating erectile dysfunction as a uniform
individual defect. They also help explain why shame and performance monitoring
can be so central. If the system is doing threat management, shame and
monitoring are not just psychological noise. They are part of the control loop.
At minimum, this framework suggests
that erectile dysfunction can sometimes be understood as a signal of safety
deficit, not simply a failure of desire or masculinity. In that framing, the
relevant variables are social security, trust, privacy, and stable affiliation.
If those variables predict sexual function even after controlling for health,
then the gating hypothesis becomes more plausible. If they do not, the
hypothesis weakens.
Conclusion
I am proposing that a subset of
erectile dysfunction, especially the stress-triggered and competition-sensitive
form, may function as a facultative exit ramp from the reproductive tournament.
In a selfish-gene sense, the advantage is not that the group benefits. The
advantage is that the individual avoids injury and ostracism, preserves
coalition membership, and maintains the possibility of reproduction under
low-threat conditions. The mechanism does not need to eliminate sex. It only
needs to suppress overt, risky, status-entangled mating effort while allowing
private, supportive reproduction to remain possible.
This hypothesis makes specific
predictions. It invites comparative thinking across species with alternative
reproductive tactics. It also provides a psychologically realistic picture of
what many men report: sexuality is not only desire and function, it is safety,
status, and threat. The evolutionary question is whether that is merely how the
machinery breaks under pressure, or whether it is how the machinery was built
to keep individuals alive and socially embedded when competing would be a
losing bet.
Postscript:
You know, there was a
time back in around 2004 where I thought I came up with the evolutionary
explanation for menopause. I looked into it and I found an essay by Jared Diamond
that explained the consensus in the literature and, frustratingly for me, it
was exactly what I wrote out a few days prior. It was very disappointing to see
that my idea wasn’t novel. But this is kind of fun, 22 years later, postulating
about this counterpart to female menopause. It’s kind of interesting that men
don’t go through menopause and that women don’t exactly experience erectile
dysfunction. But it’s interesting that those two things might be analogous on a
evolutionary scale.
Sexual Plasticity, Maternal History, and the Missing
Aversion Hypothesis: A Developmental-Evolutionary Account of Same-Sex
Attraction
Abstract
Homosexuality remains challenging to
explain within a simple adaptationist framework because, on its face, exclusive
same-sex attraction does not directly produce offspring. A great deal of
research has therefore focused on indirect evolutionary explanations, balancing
selection, sexually antagonistic effects, and prenatal developmental pathways
such as the fraternal birth order effect. In this article I propose a
complementary account that does not require male homosexuality to have been directly
selected for as a discrete trait. The model treats same-sex attraction in males
as an emergent outcome of three ingredients: (1) population-level variation in
erotic category-specificity, meaning variation in how narrowly sexual arousal
is canalized toward the opposite sex, (2) maternal history effects that may
bias this canalization in later-born sons, and (3) a species-typical absence of
a strong evolved aversion to same-sex arousal cues, shaped by ancestral social ecologies
in which privacy was limited and sociosexual behavior likely served multiple
social functions. This framework is intended to be testable. It makes
predictions about non-exclusivity, category-specificity, and the relationships
among sibling structure, development, and adult sexual phenotypes.
Introduction
When people discuss the evolutionary
puzzle of male homosexuality, the conversation often becomes polarized. Either
homosexuality is assumed to be a direct adaptation, which makes many
researchers understandably cautious, or it is treated as a pure byproduct,
which can feel unsatisfying because it leaves the developmental story vague. I
think a more productive stance is to admit that we may be dealing with multiple
partially overlapping pathways, some prenatal, some developmental, and some
social. If the phenotype is heterogeneous, then the explanations should be as
well.
My goal here is not to replace
existing theories, especially not the more established prenatal accounts. My
goal is to offer another piece of the puzzle that can sit alongside them and
perhaps even connect them. The central move is to stop treating “homosexuality”
as a single target of selection and instead treat it as one possible endpoint
of a broader and plausibly selected trait: variation in sexual responsiveness
and flexibility, or what I will call erotic plasticity. In this view, the
evolutionary question becomes more tractable because a moderate degree of
flexibility can be useful under many mating ecologies, even if one particular
endpoint, exclusive same-sex attraction, does not obviously increase
reproduction in a straightforward way.
Homosexuality may also be understood, in part, as an adaptive response to
dominance hierarchies and to tournament-like sexual competition in primate and
human groups. In many primates, high male-male competition produces steep
reproductive skew, with a small number of males monopolizing access to fertile
females and others adopting alternative tactics. The comparative record
includes both overt dominance-based access and “sneaky” or opportunistic mating
strategies, which highlights a general evolutionary principle: when the primary
route to reproduction is blocked or prohibitively costly, selection often
favors behavioral flexibility, risk reduction, and diversification of
strategies rather than persistent head-to-head escalation. In that context, a
male phenotype characterized by broader erotic responsiveness and weaker
insistence on prototypical cues of high mate value could reduce costly
competition and still facilitate pair bonding, affiliation, and sometimes
reproduction, particularly if attraction is more easily elicited by a wider
array of partner characteristics.
On this view, broadening attraction is not
“settling” in a moral sense, but a shift in the salience landscape that changes
what the individual experiences as compelling. Some males may be more likely to
find themselves attracted to less coveted or less competitive partners within
the local mating market, including older partners, less socially central
partners, or partners who deviate from the most culturally idealized phenotype.
The underlying idea is not that individuals consciously decide to avoid high-ranking
females, but that developmental systems may be sensitive to cues of competitive
difficulty and social position and respond by widening the range of cues that
can acquire erotic and affiliative value. Those cues could plausibly be
prenatal, such as maternal history, stress physiology, or resource constraints,
and they could also be postnatal, such as chronic subordination, repeated
social defeat, or environments with intense status competition. Importantly,
the model allows for continued tuning across the life course. In individuals
with higher baseline plasticity, the thresholds for what becomes erotically
salient may remain more experience-dependent even in adulthood, making
attraction patterns more responsive to the structure of the dominance hierarchy
and the costs of heterosexual competition in the surrounding social ecology.
A
note on what this hypothesis is not
This is not a claim that sexual
orientation is chosen, learned in a simplistic sense, or reversible at will. It
is also not a claim that most gay men are “really straight” and became gay
through experience. Those framings are scientifically unhelpful and socially
charged for good reasons. The claim is narrower and more mechanistic:
individuals differ in how tightly sexual arousal and attraction are canalized
toward the opposite sex, and that parameter may be influenced by prenatal and
developmental factors. When canalization is weaker, developmental experience
has more room to shape the final pattern of attractions, even if the person
experiences that pattern as deep, early, and non-volitional.
Part
I: Plasticity as a selectable trait, with homosexuality as one endpoint
In most males, sexual arousal
appears relatively category-specific. The “target class” is fairly narrow, and
cues that fall outside that class are much less likely to be erotically
salient. But it is equally clear that there is population-level variation. Some
individuals show broader attraction profiles, broader fantasy content, greater
openness to atypical partners, and greater responsiveness to situational cues.
From an evolutionary perspective, it
is not difficult to imagine why a distribution of erotic specificity could
exist and persist. Mating markets are not uniform. In some ecologies,
high-quality mates are scarce, dominance hierarchies are steep, and competition
is intense. In those contexts, a male who is strictly constrained to a narrow
set of preferred mates may have a higher chance of ending up unmated, socially
isolated, or chronically frustrated. By contrast, a male with somewhat broader
acceptability thresholds might still form pair bonds, still reproduce, and
still remain socially integrated. The trait under selection here is not
“same-sex attraction.” The trait is a bias toward broader partner
acceptability, greater responsiveness to diverse cues, and a weaker requirement
that a partner match a prototypical template.
This is where later-born sons enter
the picture. A later-born male often develops under conditions that are already
socially occupied. Older brothers may be larger, more established, and better
positioned in status networks. Even in small-scale societies, older siblings
have a head start in alliances and competence displays. A later-born male may
therefore face a different competitive landscape, and selection could plausibly
favor strategies that reduce costly competition and expand the feasible set of social
and sexual opportunities. I am not claiming that this is the only reason
plasticity would be favored, but it is a clean example of how mate-market
constraints can select for flexibility without invoking selection for exclusive
homosexuality.
Part
II: Maternal history as a tuner of canalization
The fraternal birth order effect is
one of the most discussed empirical findings in this area. The basic
observation, stated cautiously, is that males with more older brothers appear,
on average, more likely to be gay than males with fewer or none. The most
common interpretation is prenatal. Maternal physiology may change across
successive male pregnancies, potentially through immune mechanisms or related
pathways, in a way that influences sexual differentiation of later male
fetuses.
In the standard version of that
story, the prenatal mechanism is often treated as a more direct bias toward
same-sex attraction. My proposal is slightly different. I suspect that maternal
history may tune a more general parameter that sits upstream of orientation
categories. It may influence the strength of canalization of sexual
category-specificity. Put simply, instead of “programming homosexuality,”
maternal history may loosen or tighten how narrowly the developing male brain
will assign sexual salience to sex-typed cues.
This matters because it creates a
bridge between the prenatal story and the plasticity story. A prenatal
mechanism can be real and influential without dictating a specific endpoint. It
can shift the probability distribution over developmental outcomes by altering
the degree to which experience-dependent learning can sculpt the sexual
salience map. Under this model, two individuals could share a similar prenatal
“loosening” of canalization and yet diverge in adulthood. One might become
bisexual, another predominantly homosexual, another mostly heterosexual with a
broader situational repertoire. The endpoint depends on the interaction between
the tuned parameter and the person’s developmental environment.
This framing also makes the theory
testable in a more precise way than identity categories alone. If maternal
history is tuning plasticity, then birth-order effects should appear not only
in who identifies as gay, but in measurable features such as exclusivity,
category-specificity, and the breadth of erotic cue responsiveness.
Part
III: The missing aversion hypothesis and ancestral social ecology
The final piece of the puzzle is a
claim about what humans were not selected to do. Many evolutionary accounts
implicitly assume that the default male design is to avoid same-sex arousal.
But that is not obviously true when you look across primates and across
plausible ancestral social conditions. Same-sex sexual behavior occurs in many
primate species and often appears in contexts that look social rather than
strictly reproductive. It can accompany tension regulation, bonding, and
sometimes dominance-related interactions.
I think it is plausible that humans
carry a primate-typical sociosexual repertoire in which same-sex arousal
potential is not strongly suppressed by an evolved disgust-like aversion. In
ancestral environments, humans likely lived in dense social groups with limited
privacy. Bodies were visible. Sleep was communal. The boundary between “sexual”
and “social” may have been less rigid than it is in modern private housing
where sexuality is compartmentalized. If that is even partly true, then
selection may never have needed to impose a hard constraint that says, “male
arousal must never be triggered by male cues.” The costs of occasional same-sex
arousal might have been low in many contexts, especially if it did not strongly
interfere with reproduction and if it sometimes served social functions.
This is not an argument that
Pleistocene life was an endless group-sex festival. That would be an overreach.
The claim is more modest and more defensible: limited privacy and intense
social contact may have kept the human sociosexual system more flexible than
our modern moral and architectural arrangements would suggest. When you combine
that baseline absence of strict aversion with individual variation in
plasticity and a prenatal tuner that can loosen canalization, same-sex
attraction becomes less mysterious as an outcome.
Integrating
the model
The integrated hypothesis can be
stated simply. Humans vary in erotic category-specificity, and that variation
is at least partly heritable. Maternal history across prior male pregnancies
may bias canalization strength in later-born sons, increasing the variance of
developmental outcomes by making sexual salience more experience-sensitive.
Humans also lack a strong evolved aversion to same-sex arousal cues, likely
because our primate ancestry and ancestral social ecology did not impose
consistent selection pressure to eliminate same-sex arousal potential. Under
this model, modern male homosexuality is often the result of heightened
plasticity plus the absence of aversion plus specific developmental and social
trajectories that associate sexual reward with same-sex cues.
The model is deliberately
pluralistic. It allows for the possibility that some cases are more strongly
driven by prenatal biology and others by broader plasticity. It also does not
require that homosexuality be directly selected for as a discrete adaptation.
Selection could act on flexibility, and homosexuality could be one tail of the
distribution under certain developmental regimes.
Predictions
and ways to test the framework
A theory like this lives or dies on
its discriminating predictions. The point is not to tell a clever story, but to
specify what would make the story wrong.
First, if maternal history primarily
tunes plasticity rather than directly programming a specific orientation, then
the number of older brothers should correlate more strongly with measures of
non-exclusivity and broader cue responsiveness than with categorical identity
alone. The effect should show up in gradients of category-specificity, not only
in whether someone checks a particular box.
Second, the model predicts that
family structure variables should separate into biological and social
components. If prenatal maternal-history mechanisms dominate, biological older
brothers should matter more than step or adoptive older brothers. If postnatal
competition also contributes, then co-residence and social dominance dynamics
should add a smaller independent effect. This is a concrete way to disentangle
prenatal tuning from social ecology.
Third, if a “missing aversion” is
part of the background condition, then situational same-sex behavior should
increase in contexts of reduced privacy and high social density, even when
exclusive homosexuality rates do not shift proportionally. The prediction is
about expression and repertoire, not identity alone.
Fourth, the framework implies trait
spillovers. If the upstream variable is a general erotic flexibility parameter,
then it should correlate with other measures of broader partner acceptability
and perhaps with sexual novelty responsiveness, while not necessarily
correlating with generalized impulsivity or psychopathology. The pattern should
look like domain-specific flexibility rather than a global disinhibition
phenotype.
Finally, because this model treats
homosexuality as one endpoint of a distribution, it predicts heterogeneity
within gay men. Some proportion should show signatures consistent with high
plasticity, such as less exclusive attraction profiles or a broader range of
cues that can become erotically salient. Others may show strongly canalized
same-sex attraction consistent with more direct prenatal patterning. A single
explanation is unlikely to fit all cases, and the model expects that.
Relationship
to existing evolutionary accounts
There is a long history of
evolutionary theorizing about homosexuality, including kin selection models,
balancing selection, and sexually antagonistic selection. My proposal does not
deny those possibilities. It reframes the question. If what persists in the
population is not “genes for homosexuality” but “genes for variability in
sexual canalization,” then it becomes easier to see how selection could
maintain the trait even if one tail of the distribution sometimes lowers direct
reproduction.
This framing also helps with a
recurring confusion in public discourse. People often treat the existence of a
genetic component as evidence that orientation must be strictly innate and
immutable in every individual. Genetics can contribute to parameters,
thresholds, and susceptibility to developmental shaping without implying
volitional choice. A heritable bias toward weaker canalization can be real, and
the resulting attractions can still feel foundational and stable to the person
who experiences them.
Limitations
and responsible framing
There are important limitations
here. Much of our evidence about ancestral sexual ecology is indirect, and it
is easy to overclaim. The model must therefore be presented with intellectual
restraint. The correct posture is that this is a plausible synthesis that
generates testable predictions, not a final answer.
There is also a social
responsibility issue. Any theory that mentions plasticity risks being misread
as endorsing “conversion” narratives. That is not what this is. Plasticity, in
the sense used here, is about developmental sensitivity, not about coercive
malleability. People do not choose their orientation, and harmful interventions
are not justified by the existence of developmental influences. A responsible
scientific framing needs to state this plainly.
Conclusion
I do not think we need to assume
that male homosexuality was directly selected for to make sense of its
persistence. A more parsimonious approach is to treat same-sex attraction as
one endpoint that can emerge when three conditions coincide: higher erotic
flexibility, prenatal and maternal-history factors that tune the strength of
canalization, and a human sexual system that was not built with a hard aversion
to same-sex arousal cues. This model respects what prenatal work is trying to
explain while adding a layer that focuses on how selection could shape the
underlying distribution of sexual specificity in a way that is broadly adaptive
across mating ecologies.
Most importantly, it is a model that
can be tested. If it is wrong, the data should be able to say so. If it is
partly right, it gives us a way to unify prenatal findings, developmental
variability, and primate-typical sociosexual repertoires into a coherent
framework that remains academically serious while staying accessible to
ordinary human intuitions about how sexuality can develop.
Postscript:
I am actually backdating this post. The true date of posting is 1/14/26. I decided to keep it from the front of my blog because of the sexual nature. I came up with this idea about homosexuality around 2005 after reading about the male birth order
effect. I was embarrassed to write about it at the time and a few people close to me told me that maybe I shouldn't publish the idea because of stigma and sterotypes. I think I have matured
and society in general has matured and improved, and I am happy to feel good
writing about this now. Again, no offense was meant to any group in this
writing and no judgments are being made. I am simply writing about a hypothesis that I thought could be true scientifically. Nature bless everyone.