Sex columnist Nadia Bokody discusses why viral sex trends could have "inconceivable" repercussions. Photo / Supplied
Sex columnist Nadia Bokody discusses why viral sex trends could have "inconceivable" repercussions. Photo / Supplied
OPINION:
A pretty young woman in lavender eyeshadow swirls a glass of ice as the song Beef FloMix plays.
With a smirk, she reaches into the cup and pulls out a glistening cube, promptly plunging it between her legs while documenting her reaction to the camera.
She's participating in a bizarre TikTok trend that took off this year, based around the unproven premise that inserting ice into your vagina can improve your orgasms (it won't – in fact, it's likely to transport harmful bacteria into your body, so please don't try this at home).
The #icecubechallenge is just one of many dangerous, questionable sex crazes that have gone viral on the app in recent years.
As the sex education curriculum continues to lag in addressing issues like pleasure, queer sex and consent, platforms like TikTok – where users can share advice in engaging 15-second clips timed to popular music – are becoming the go-to outlet for young people to fill in the gaps.
But like all social media apps, TikTok is plagued with misinformation and problematic propaganda. It's also loaded with the allure of prospective internet fame in exchange for participating in perilous on-camera acts – and this presents a serious risk to users.
Though its community guidelines prohibit sexual content, including "nudity, pornography or sexually explicit content", euphemistic tags like "#seggs", along with careful use of language, offer creators a convenient loophole for evading censorship.
For one example, the "coffee climax" trend, users filmed themselves downing questionable amounts of caffeine before masturbating to investigate whether it intensified their orgasm (the actual science on this one is still dubious at best).
In another trend, women followed the advice of a young woman who insisted she could "flavour" her vagina using suppositories bought via Amazon. Besides reinforcing the troubling idea women should be eternally fragranced and ashamed of their natural odours, the craze convinced girls to insert products into their vaginas before intercourse that could interfere with condom efficacy and were not gynaecologically recommended.
And it's not only young women who are taking part in these strange sex trends.
The "#nonutnovember" hashtag, which has amassed over 1.4 billion views on the app, and takes its cue from 2006's "No Fap Challenge", encourages men to document themselves forgoing masturbation for the month of November, touting benefits like increased testosterone, improved mood and sexual stamina – none of which have been scientifically proven.
Sex columnist Nadia Bokody discusses why viral sex trends could have "inconceivable" repercussions. Photo / Supplied
Riskier crazes, like the "Sundress Challenge", which dared couples to have sex in public locations without getting caught, using a sundress to conceal what they were doing, have since been removed from the platform. (If you search #sundresschallenge now, you'll find only fashion content.)
Of course, this hasn't stopped TikTokers from devising new and even more questionable challenges and advice-based tutorials.
A more recent trend; "Everything's a dildo if you're brave enough" seems innocent on the surface, with users holding ludicrous sex toy substitutes up to the camera while nodding playfully – including everything from roller-skates to plush toys.
But with many internet crazes that started off as spoofs becoming dangerous and even deadly trends (just take the #TidePodChallenge, that led to poison control centres experiencing a spike in reports of children ingesting laundry pods after Twitter users began joking about the colourful detergent capsules looking good enough to eat), it's not inconceivable some TikTokers may take these clips literally, especially when the chasm left by sex education is so vast.
Revealingly, a survey of 18-25-year-olds conducted by Zero Tolerance this year found just 9 per cent of young people see school as the most reliable source for sex education, while more than half of all respondents said they trust social media for information on sex.
Undoubtedly a lot more work is required in terms of not only policing platforms like TikTok but encouraging young people to approach the ideas they present from a critical viewpoint.
More so though, sex education curriculums need the kind of overhaul that means we're actually equipping kids with comprehensive, meaningful information about pleasure and their own bodies, so they're not scrolling TikTok to find it.
