Taking Advice from the Pros: (S)expertise in Antiquity and the Digital Age

In a time where knowledge is only one Google search away, we have become increasingly comfortable with acquiring answers to our most intimate questions online. Often these questions are ones that we would be embarrassed to ask our friends — questions so private that our faces would turn red before we even got the words out. So, instead, we pick up our phones and ask Google.

People in antiquity were asking the same questions, although without assistance from their trusty smartphones. They had two options: (1) asking someone who knew the answers, or (2) reading the written works of someone who knew the answers. Option 2 is comparable to what we moderns do when we browse through a Buzzfeed article on “15 Ways To Have Better Sex in 2016.”

But what makes the author of that article an expert — or as the kids are saying these days, a sexpert? You could run a search on these authors (assuming that you can even find their names), but what if you find out little more than which university awarded them their BA? Or, perhaps the better question to ask would be: did you actually care about their expert credentials before you started reading the article? The ancients were not so different from us in that regard; they, too, were at the mercy of “learned” strangers.

Let’s face it: there’s nothing sexy about vetting every single piece of information we read. As a wise person once said, however, “ask and you will receive.” Unfortunately, when we ask both ancient and modern sources for answers to private questions, often we receive non-answers.

Question 1: How do I please a woman?

Aelius Promotus, 2nd Century CE Doctor (Dynameron 26.4):

A hedonikon that will make the woman melt from pleasure: 1 drachma of myrrh; 1 drachma of cloven alum [a type of astringent compound]; 24 grains of pepper. Triturate with Attic honey and use by anointing the glans.

῾Ηδονικὸν ὥστε ἔκλυτον γίγνεσθαι τὴν γυναῖκα ὑπὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς. Σμύρνης <· α´· στυπτηρίας σχιστῆς <· α´· πεπέρεως κόκκοι κδ´· λείου σὺν μέλιτι ᾿Αττικῷ καὶ χρῶ, χρίων τὴν βάλανον.

Aelius seems to be the only surviving Greek author to use the word hedonikon in this way (translated literally, “a pleasurable thing”). There’s no corresponding word in English, but context makes it clear that Aelius means something like whatever goes on Trojan Fire and Ice condoms. Aelius serves as a good example of the ancient Greek medical approach to the bedroom — a focus on pharmeceuticals and not much attention paid to psycology.

Bethany Heitman, Cosmopolitan, “10 Sex Moves She Craves”:

… 7. Gently pull her hair.

6. Talk dirty to her

5. Nibble on her neck. …

Modern sexperts, on the other hand, tend to advise particular “moves” (often physical, such as hair-pulling or Kama Sutra-esque positions) that aim at arousal. Our concern with this complicated psychosomatic process reflects one of the modern perspectives that we have adopted. Both participants in sex are important, not only as individuals but also as partners. That is, sex is a sort of interconnected discourse — an intercourse, if you will — that takes place between the participants. Each participant’s desires and gratification influence the desires and gratification of the other. The desired outcome is mutual and interpersonal, though still tailored to the individual.

The Aelius passage above does not necessarily conflict with the ten sex moves that she would crave today. Aside from those strange ingredients, Aelius’ goal would appear to be same as Heitman’s. The female orgasm was considered by many ancients to be important for successful conception (Catherine Blackledge, The Story of V: A Natural History of Female Sexuality, p.254). The Hippocratic Corpus noted that female pleasure was conducive to conception, and this idea reverberated for centuries thereafter. The ancients and the moderns agree that it’s important to please a woman — although why it is important is another discussion entirely.

Most strikingly, the ancient and modern answers are both instances of relying on third party advice to please your female partner. Neither advises that you personally ask her what would be pleasing to her. Instead, you are to try an unidentified (and potentially harmful) penis potion, or nibbling on her neck, before broaching the subject of what she wants from you.

Question 2: How do I increase my sex drive?

Rufus of Ephesus, 1st Century CE Doctor (Oribasius’ Synopsis for Eustathius, 1.6):

If anything, there’s a need for an excess of nourishment; thus, foods that are very nourishing would be appropriate. . . as for vegetables, (eat) sage, hedge mustard, rocket [i.e. arugula], and turnip.

Aphrodisiacs are a common feature in ancient medical discussions of sex. Ancient doctors accepted that certain substances could influence sexual desire. Food and sex shared an intimate connection in that ancient doctors believed semen (still undifferentiated from sperm) was the product of concocted blood, which itself was a product of food (Michael Boylan, “The Galenic and Hippocratic Challenges to Aristotle’s Conception Theory,” p.88ff). When an excess of semen arose in the body, so also arose the desire to expel that semen (Galen, On The Affected Parts, K 8.420). Rufus’ recommendation, then, was a cogent prescription in line with the science of the time.

Zahra Barnes, Women’s Health, “5 Covert Ways to Increase His Stamina in Bed”:

1. Add pumpkin to your grocery list . . . “Many people don’t know that there’s research that says pumpkin boost [sic] men’s libido,” says Ava Cadell, Ph.D., author of Neuroloveology and the Sexual Health Expo’s 2015 sexpert of the year. “Pumpkin seeds get the blood flowing 40 percent faster to the male genitals and boost sex drive in general,” says Cadell.

Unlike Rufus, Barnes felt the need to preempt the reader’s skepticism by citing Ava Cadell, Ph.D. We return again to the problem of the “learned” stranger. Neither Rufus nor Barnes tells us that they have personally tested these aphrodisiacs. Moreover, just like Ava Cadell, Ph.D., persuaded Barnes that pumpkin seeds increase blood flow to the genitals, Barnes would have persuaded Rufus too had he been able to read “5 Covert Ways to Increase His Stamina in Bed.” (There was controversy among ancient doctors surrounding the substance that creates tumescence. Rufus was ambivalent as to whether blood or air fills the penis during erection and was willing to accept either or both (On Satyriasis and Gonorrhea 25)). Rufus and Barnes both have “scientific” bases for their claims, but it’s still up to the reader, modern or ancient, to decide which aphrodisiac sounds like it’s worth trying.

Question 3: How do I influence the gender/sex of my child?

Hippocratic Author, 4th Century BCE Doctor (?) (Superfetation 31):

Whenever he wants to have a male child, let him have sex when her period is stopping or has already stopped. Let him thrust the best he can when he ejaculates. Whenever he wants to have a female child, (let him have sex) when she’s on her period and the menses are still there, and let him tie up his right testicle as much as he can bear.

Ancient doctors reasoned that, since men were better than women, and since right was better than left, semen from the right testicle made male children and semen from the left testicle made female children (read: sexism reinforced by science). From this perspective, the sex of the child could be determined by elevating the appropriate testicle. But not every doctor agreed on the logic of this procedure. The author of Superfetation has the right testicle tied up for a female child, probably because he thought this would restrict the right-sided, male semen. Pseudo-Galen (On Easy Remedies, K 14.476) has it the other way around though, perhaps reasoning that elevation of the right testicle would aid the release of its semen.

The Bub Hub Crew, The Bub Hub, “Baby Gender Selection Methods — Influence the Sex of Your Baby”:

Gender selection methods for a BOY: Eat foods high in sodium . . . Deep vaginal penetration from the rear . . . Cool the testicles . . .

Gender selection methods for a GIRL: Eat foods high in calcium and magnesium. . . Shallow penetration . . . Warm the testicles . . .

The answers to this question have changed the least in two thousand years. The idea that diet influences a baby’s sex fits neatly into ancient medicine, though the recommended foods were selected for different reasons. We also saw above that deep penetration (“let him thrust the best he can” = “as deeply as possible”) had already been associated with making a male child. The ancients even associated temperature with sex: unsurprisingly, men were hot and women were cold, so semen that made a male was hot and that which made a female was cold. In modern times, however, you need a cold shower to make a boy.

These recommendations for gender/sex selection strive to sound technical to their respective audiences. If it’s taken for granted that men are better, hotter, and “right,” tying up one’s right testicle sounds like a commonsense technique. And for moderns without access to good sex education (especially those who were raised in public schools where abstinence-only education was the norm), differences between methods of penetration and temperature of the testicles might sound like serious variables. Either way, they probably sought out this information because they honestly didn’t know what determines the gender/sex of the child in utero.

So then, we have had all our intimate questions addressed by the (s)experts. You probably trust the modern answers over the ancient ones, and who could blame you? The cashier at Kroger would give you a funny look if you asked where they keep the myrrh, alum, and Attic honey.

But the only way to know, to really know, whether they work or not is through experience. My guess is that the ancient reader had some of the same doubts as we do about this whole (s)expertise business, but that insatiable curiosity that burns in humans — that interest in knowledge piqued by the unknown, that constant desire to turn the mundane into the extraordinary — kept them reading line after line, just as it does us.

Brent Arehart is a Ph.D student of Classics at the University of Cincinnati. He received his B.A. from the University of Mary Washington in Classical Civilization and Religion.