In case you missed it, here’s a recap. Described as a “pedometer for your penis” by various giggling tech journos, it’s designed to be worn around the base of a guy’s unmentionable and connected up to his smartphone; then it supplies lots of handy data via a dedicated app, including calories burned and thrusts-per-minute. Really.
Most of us have personal boundaries, and so should our sex toys.
Hold on, it’s all in good fun, some may cry. On paper, yes, but in real life, no. Pedometers and fitness trackers measure activities which reward us for “pushing our bodies to the limit,” but they rarely take finesse into account … or subtlety, consideration, and tenderness. Unfortunately, these are the most important aspects of sex. Unless your name is Belladonna, the idea of someone maniacally thrusting away until your nether regions are red raw (so they get a new Stamina badge) probably isn’t very appealing. Products like the SexFit turn sex into an endurance event, in which we’re motivated only by an app, instead of how it makes your partner feel.
Novelty sex apps are weird (and dangerous)
Sex should be fun, and toys, whether they’re overly techy or not, can be enjoyably thrown into the mix. But there are limits. Most of us have personal boundaries, and so should our sex toys. But there are a ton of terrible toys. Spreadsheets is an app that monitors and tells you how to fix your sex. It only works when your phone is in very close proximity to your bed-capades, which sounds about as irresistible as the judgmental family dog sitting at the end of the bed. Another app, the subtly named SexTrack, tells you to put the phone “on the bed close to the action” so it can measure “duration, amount, speed, and intensity.” Sorry, but is it talking about sex, or the Tour de France?
When you imagine trying to introduce one of these apps, or the SexFit, into the bedroom, things get weird. “Yes darling, the iPhone will be joining us tonight, I’ll be wearing this complex device around my old chap, and I warn you now, I’ve set the intensity to ‘heavy chafing!’” A menage a trios with Twiki from Buck Rogers, complete with Dr. Theopolis around his neck, would sound more appealing.
Related: WTF Internet? If you need an app to tell you when to have sex, it’s over
Leaving aside the weirdness, and neatly avoiding this turning into a column worthy of Carrie Bradshaw, there’s real danger involved in introducing hardware that encourages you to pump away with the ferocity of a sexually deprived rabbit. This isn’t speculation, but a claim backed up by actual medical fact. According to UKMedix.com, the number one sexual mistake couples make in bed is “misdirected thrusting,” a problem certain to be exasperated when you’re going all out trying to beat a previous record.
Sex and tech can mix
Tech works best when it’s solving a problem, or making our lives a little easier, and it’s no different when talking about the way it can integrate into our love lives. Not all sex tech has to be seedy, or make sex like a goal-driven workout, proven by OhMiBod’s remote controlled vibrator. It doesn’t look like it was designed to appeal only to deviants who hang around street corners, and the Bluetooth connection to you phone serves an actual purpose: to transmit pleasurable feelings to the wearer.
When you imagine trying to introduce one of these apps, or the SexFit, into the bedroom, things get weird.
Related: Nearly 1 out of 10 Americans use smartphones during sex
Products like the SexFit will live on, destined to be used by muscle-bound frat guys concerned only with how much they can bench press, and so will those of a more mature, intimate nature. Sex and tech is converging, and like real life, we’re being given a choice. We can head for the bright lights of Rouge City and the company of Gigolo Joe (or Josephine), or steer toward the glossy, if slightly lonely, world of online relationships, potentially similar to those in Spike Jonze’s Her.
Or, we could just get on with doing it the way we have been since the beginning of time.
