Neil Gaiman and the Failure of Modern Sexual Ethics

CARL R. TRUEMAN JANUARY 23, 2025

Arecent Vulture article reporting on the sexual proclivities and alleged abusive activities of fantasy author Neil Gaiman has rekindled debates about power and consent, in large part because it includes a disclaimer about BDSM. After describing a violent sexual encounter between Gaiman and a young woman named Scarlett Pavlovich, the author states: “Had Gaiman and Pavlovich been engaging in BDSM, this could conceivably have been part of a rape scene, a scenario sometimes described as consensual nonconsent. But that would have required careful negotiation in advance, which she says they had not done.” Gaiman, of course, alleges otherwise, claiming that he has “never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone.” The whole disturbing story is a stark reminder of how weak the foundations of modern sexual ethics are. 

Gaiman, once a vocal supporter of the #MeToo movement, fits into that category of performative feminists whose commitment to the cause doesn’t extend beyond social media platforms. I have always found such cheap piety to be deeply implausible. Not to mention, the existence of ex-wives (two, in Gaiman’s case) is always a rather troubling sign. What do they think of their erstwhile husband’s vocal online advocacy for women, women’s rights, and “the gynocracy”? The proof of a passionate commitment to respecting women is not some cost-free recitation of feminist clichés on social media that garners congratulatory retweets or Instagram likes. It is how these men treat real women in real time. Ex-wives are likely expert commentators on such matters, something that applies to the famous, such as Gaiman, as much as to the unknown online wannabe.

But setting aside his apparent hypocrisy, the garish allegations against Gaiman are, if true, the consequences of the logic of the sexual revolution, albeit rather extreme ones. That his claim of consent sounds plausible, even if ultimately untenable, speaks to the cultural intuitions of our day, where we do not typically regard sexual acts as having intrinsic value. Further, if sex is primarily about self-directed physical or emotional satisfaction, then the others involved are necessarily turned into instruments for the achievement of such an end. They become things or objects, of use only as far as they make one feel good. It is not a logic restricted to sexual matters. Ebenezer Scrooge viewed his clients not as people but as entries in his ledger. It is the most dramatic form of the failing anthropology of the modern world, forced now to reduce philosophies of sex to debates over consent, and thus to defend the most obviously degrading behavior as the glorious culmination of our freedom.

One need not be religious to find patterns of behavior that are deeply dehumanizing in the description of Gaiman’s alleged activities. Nor does it take a feat of imagination to see that even those who might consent to being treated in such ways have come to think of themselves as little more than pieces of meat. But one may need to be religious to see beyond this. If human beings are defined by radical autonomy, or if they are merely sentient lumps of meat, why should the strong not behave as they choose and the weak simply have to accept it? If we are not made in God’s image but just the latest product of an aimless concatenation of efficient causes—if human nature has no moral significance—who is to say what is and is not dehumanizing behavior? Why not merely live for the moment?

My granddaughter was baptized on Sunday. As I watched the minister read the liturgy, admonish her parents and the congregation of their responsibilities toward her, and then sprinkle water on her head in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, my mind went to Psalm 128:6: “May you live to see your children’s children.” Until I became a grandfather, I assumed that verse was merely a poetic way of saying, “May you live a long time.” But it is far more than that. To see and hold life that was brought into being by the life you created brings a unique joy. But it is not the joy of seeing another object, another thing brought into the world that can then be used for self-aggrandizement. On the contrary—something has been created that brings more obligations and more potential vulnerability. To the modern mind, having a grandchild means being more burdened, not less. 

Yet the service was a beautiful reminder of the joys that such realities bring, for it expressed a true anthropology. We are not born free. We are born dependent upon others and, compared to other species, are dependent for a remarkably long time. To live life as if this is not true—to treat others as objects, as things, that exist exclusively for our own benefit and to which we ourselves have no obligation—is to dehumanize them and ultimately ourselves. Baptism, taking place as it does within the community of the church and within a network of dependency and obligation, stands in opposition to this.

But baptism does more. God is the agent in baptism, which reminds us (among other things) that we as human beings are ultimately dependent upon God, and that life is a gift. The child therefore belongs to God and is in a sense loaned to parents, grandparents, and congregants, to be nurtured and cherished. That means that our duties and responsibilities are also gifts, gifts that define us. Those things that make us human—the very obligations against which modern man fights with such determination—are therefore the very things for which we should be grateful. And that also means that gratitude, a uniquely human trait, should be the pervasive characteristic of all of our lives.  

“May you live to see your children’s children” reflects a wish for a particular blessing, the blessing of being reminded of one’s true humanity through the grateful acceptance of duties toward others. That is a blessing that those who see others simply as objects or tools for their own pleasure, sexual and otherwise, will never know. Gaiman’s tragedy is not simply that he has indulged himself at the expense of others. It is that in doing so, he has immeasurably impoverished himself.