I think there’s a case to be made for having a sex scene if (and only if)
1. it’s actually necessary for the plot
2. it contains the level of detail necessary for said plot point, not a gratuitous graphic description for readers to mentally ogle
3. the book is clearly, unmistakably marketed to adults who can (theoretically) understand that the scene is there because it’s integral to the story and not for them to mentally ogle
I have encountered a grand total of one (1) such scene in my entire life and it was in a fanfiction from the mid-2010s. The truth is that erotica is just not romantic. I’m not old enough to know much of the history of this sort of thing, but I frankly don’t see that it matters how long pornographic material has been a part of written storytelling; it’s bad for us and I can’t wait for the day when that’s no longer a hot take.
I hear endless excuses from my friends about how fictional romance doesn’t need to be healthy, it just needs to be entertaining. What’s the difference? Who wants to read graphic descriptions of a woman being assaulted by almost every male character who interacts with her (ACOTAR)? If you do, have you considered that you find this fascinating because our violent and hyper-sexualized culture has dealt you some psychological damage? But it isn’t your fault.
Erotica, like any form of pornography, isn’t harmless fun. It’s addictive, but that’s not even the worst part. It trains your brain to think of people as playthings, so that the more of it you consume, the more difficult it is for you to establish an actual connection with another human being. This doesn’t just affect your romantic relationships, either, by the way—the attitude that sex is a game and human bodies are a commodity will bleed over into every relationship you have. It will tell you that you yourself are just a toy for someone else to play with (or worse: it will tell you that you’re not even pretty enough to be a toy for someone else to play with) and mess up your self-esteem.
But it isn’t your fault. I notice a tendency among people who could be helpful adults keeping kids from walking into this kind of trap unawares just . . . dodging the issue by talking about porn like it’s just something that needs to be kept secret: acknowledging that it’s dirty, but making its consumption sound like an inevitability, like something you’re gonna get stuck doing but which will be ok if you just keep it on the down-low. It isn’t your fault if you got this message and thought the logical conclusion is that it’s harmless fun and should be destigmatized. I’m sorry that no one told you it would reshape your inner workings and prevent you from loving and being loved naturally.
It isn’t your fault. There are who-knows-how-many people who get rich from selling this stuff, from getting people addicted to it. I firmly believe that’s a big motivation behind the rampant YA erotica that pops up everywhere I turn these days. It’s unusual if I pull a random book off the YA fantasy shelf at Barnes & Noble and it doesn’t have porn in it. They’re out on shelves where anybody at all can pick them up and there’s nothing on the outside to raise red flags. Even if one knows the danger, it’s ridiculously hard to figure out whether a certain book is safe or not (harder still if you’re in the trenches of addiction and can’t be the one to vet a book yourself). It isn’t your fault. They’re targeting a younger audience (with the excuse that teenagers already know what sex is, not that that’s got anything to do with consuming pornographic material) because that’s who’s least likely to know about the harmful effects of porn and therefore most vulnerable to addiction. It isn’t your fault.
It isn’t your fault that you have money and getting you addicted is a reliable way to for someone else to siphon that money into their own hands. It isn’t your fault, and it isn’t fair that you’ve got to be the one to do the dirty work of undoing the damage.
I’m so sorry. It isn’t your fault. But we’ve got to stop acting like there’s no problem here.