When the “consent condom” was introduced last month, it made a minor media splash. The developers of this new condom, packaged in a box that required four hands to open, sought to place the concept of consent at the center of all sexual interactions.
Almost as soon as it grabbed its first headlines, however, the consent condom attracted criticism from multiple sources. Is consent an ongoing dialogue rather than a one-time agreement? Can’t consent be revoked? Do these condoms marginalize people with disabilities that preclude them from opening the box? Couldn’t a rapist force a victim to help open the box, or enlist the assistance of an accomplice? Could they be used as misleading evidence against claims of sexual assault?
With STD rates skyrocketing, more people need to learn how to get the most from condoms — the most protection, the most comfort, and the most pleasure.
Despite the negative reaction, the fact remains that the consent condom succeeded in one goal: provoking public dialogue about the complexity and primacy of consent. It isn’t likely to be a commercial success: Even if a few are sold as novelties, a condom that comes with built-in obstacles doesn’t seem destined for popularity. After all, if regular condoms were too tricky for the inept baby boomers on Seinfeld to master, a complicated gadget requiring four coordinated hands to spring loose probably isn’t going to be a breeze for millennials.
