Erotic capital and erotic dividends

Abstract

Sexualities scholars have developed the idea of erotic capital, that is the characteristics that make someone sexually desirable in specific contexts. While much of the literature focuses on those who either possess or lack erotic capital, and how erotic capital manifests within sexual and dating situations, few studies pursue what happens after erotic capital is used to attract a partner or how individuals feel about others’ interpretations of their erotic capital. Therefore, we advance the literature by developing the concept “erotic dividends,” which we conceptualize as the yield or outcome generated from erotic capital. By exploring erotic dividends, we highlight the importance of recognizing that erotic capital is highly situational/dependent and we complicate assumptions that erotic capital routinely engenders beneficial sexual experiences. To explore erotic dividends, we draw on in-depth interview research on the development of sexual selves with samples of straight-identifying U.S. men and women in their 20s–60s conducted with straight men and women in the United States. We suggest that while some might possess erotic capital, this does not automatically guarantee they will produce benefits, and may ultimately reinforce broader structural inequalities, particularly those related to gender and race. Overall, we argue that the concept of erotic dividends helps to clarify how power, desirability, and inequalities operate within sexual situations.

Erotic capital is defined as “the quality and quantity of attributes that an individual possesses which elicits an erotic response in another” (Green, 2008: 29). Erotic capital can be used to get attention or sexual gratification or may be exchanged for other types of capital (Farrer, 2010; Green, 2008; Hakim, 2011). Some scholars have noted that erotic capital is manifested in physical assets like age, height, beauty, race, body size, skin shade, or other physical features which make people desirable sexual or romantic partners (e.g., Craig, 2006; Curington et al., 2021; Durant and Couch, 2019; Glasser et al., 2009; Hunter, 2002; Sharma and Tannistha, 2020; Simpson, 2013).

During research exploring straight individuals’ sexualities, we took notice of this as well. Participants in the first author’s research were aware of their value/erotic capital when seeking sexual partners. Men, for example, noted things like height, clear skin, being well-endowed, or physically fit as assets in attracting women and maintaining women’s interest (Montemurro, 2018, 2022). Although some men and women felt they were automatically less desirable sexual partners due to skin tone or negative stereotypes about their race, others felt that race could, at times, be an asset in attracting sexual partners (Montemurro, 2018, 2022; see also Curington et al., 2021).

What was striking in this research, however, was the various ways in which erotic capital was used or limited in use in sexual situations. In other words, we were curious about what happens with erotic capital after attracting a partner. When one is seen as sexually appealing, they are often presumed to be able to capitalize on that by using those attributes to pursue sexual encounters/relationships or by converting erotic capital into other forms of capital. After all, in Western society, being highly sexually attractive is often presumed to be valuable and advantageous (Hakim, 2011). However, we suggest the (actual and potential) use and yields of erotic capital are far more complex, particularly as “value” is subjective in different contexts (Green, 2008; Martin and George, 2006; Ruppel, 2022) and because benefits that accrue from erotic capital are often finite and can reinforce structural inequalities.

Erotic capital can thus be used in ways that lead to “bad deals” or losses. For instance, Black men are subject to stereotypes about sexual performance and genital size (e.g., Collins, 2005; Montemurro, 2022; Ray and Rosow, 2010). People may seek out Black men as sexual partners for those reasons. If partners express disappointment when such men lack expected behaviors or physical characteristics, erotic capital that may have attracted a partner may result in feelings of objectification, fetishization, or low self-esteem. In this scenario, both race and gender hierarchies are reinforced, with race as a factor in determining sexual desirability that has greater stakes for men of color than for white men (e.g., Collins, 2005; Curington et al., 2015; Ray and Rosow, 2010).

Similarly, women deemed to be highly attractive (e.g., in U.S. society, thin, white, large-breasted, blond-haired, blue-eyed women) may have a high degree of erotic capital in terms of desirability but may receive little advantage from it when the larger culture encourages sexual objectification (Ward, 2020). Women with sexually appealing appearances may also be assumed to be receptive to unsolicited sexual advances that may lead to sexual harassment and reinforcement of women’s subordinate status in patriarchal societies (Ruppel, 2022). In these cases, larger power structures that form gender and race hierarchies make it less likely for women and men of color to yield advantages from their erotic capital.

In this paper, we expand the literature on erotic capital by considering the outcomes of its use in interactions. While most research focuses on who has erotic capital, and how erotic capital manifests in the dating world, few studies pursue what happens after erotic capital is used to attract a partner or how individuals feel about others’ interpretations of their erotic capital. Therefore, we advance the literature by developing the concept “erotic dividends,” which we conceptualize as the yield or outcome generated from erotic capital. We draw from Curington et al.’s (2015) discussion of a “multiracial dividend effect” or online daters’ preference for multiracial individuals relative to monoracial individuals. The authors suggest that multiracial daters possess an elevated status within online dating given their higher attractiveness rating. However, we argue that examining the interactions between multiracial daters and their suitors would determine whether this produces a “dividend.”

In exploring erotic dividends, we highlight the importance of recognizing that erotic capital is often situational/dependent upon sexual fields (Green, 2008, 2013; Martin and George, 2006) and does not produce guaranteed or consistent benefits to its possessor. Dividends, or benefits, are uneven and, at times, may be used by others (Mears, 2015). We assert that it is important to look in greater depth how erotic capital is used and to what end. At the same time, we argue that the likelihood of erotic capital yielding erotic dividends is tied to and reinforces systemic gender inequalities when women’s erotic capital yields sexual objectification. We first review scholarship on erotic capital and then define and develop the concept of erotic dividends as a critical advancement to the literature. We provide practical examples of erotic dividends from the first author’s in-depth interview research on the development of sexual selves among straight men and women living in the United States.

Bourdieu and beyond: The scope of capital

Social scientists have studied the presence and utility of human capital in a multitude of ways, the most notable of which is in the work of Pierre Bourdieu. Bourdieu (1984) discussed several types of capital which individuals can possess and leverage. These include economic capital (financial resources), cultural capital (capital coming from familiarity with a culture and particularly high-status or valued aspects of it), and social capital (status-derived capital attained from connections through social networks, positions, and institutional titles). Bourdieu defined volume of capital as the “set of actually useable resources and powers” (1984: 114) people possess. Thus, it is important to consider how much capital people have, their ability to use it, and how other statuses might make some forms of capital valuable in particular contexts. People with more economic capital may be advantaged in the world of sex and dating if, for example, they are able to spend more money maintaining their appearance, to pay for dates, or to join premium dating sites (Regan, 2023).

The concept of capital has been expanded beyond the work of Bourdieu to consider other categories of capital, including embodied forms of capital (e.g., Hunter, 2002; Hutson, 2013; Mears and Finlay, 2005; Wacquant, 1995). Wacquant (1995) first theorized bodily capital among professional boxers who dedicated tremendous amounts of labor to produce a “fighter’s body.” This entailed investment in sculpting a strong physique that could withstand injuries. Mears and Finlay (2005) draw on bodily capital in their study of models who invest in their appearance to maintain a certain “look” compatible with the modeling industry standards (i.e., youthful and slim). Similarly, Hutson noted how personal trainers use their own bodies as a means of demonstrating their worth and legitimate expertise in the fitness field whereby very muscular trainers had a robust clientele (Hutson, 2013). Additionally, scholars have also examined how lighter skin shade operates as a form of capital for communities of color, particularly for women of color, that can convert to other forms of capital such as higher educational status, earnings, and marriage opportunities (Hunter, 2002). Embodied forms of capital highlight the significance of investing in one’s appearance for social mobility. And given that physical appearance matters in dating, many of these forms of embodied capital are reflected in erotic capital as well.

Erotic capital

Sexualities scholars have developed the idea of erotic capital, that is the usable characteristics that make someone sexually desirable in specific contexts. Empirical research on erotic capital explores traits associated with desirability and the way social identities, like race or age, shape erotic capital. For instance, Sharma and Tannistha (2020) looked at how physical features which signify age (e.g., gray hair) lead to diminished erotic capital in both online and offline dating. When one is perceived as older, they have less sexual desirability and thus less ability to trade on appearance. Waling et al. (2022) find that women seeking casual sexual relationships constructed erotic capital primarily based on men’s physiques and athleticism. However, when searching for romantic partners or for relationships, women also looked for qualities such as “intelligence, confidence, and emotional capacity” (466). Additionally, Durant and Couch (2019) found that erotic capital of sex workers was evaluated by men clients in ways that countered dominant narratives about women’s beauty. In their study, men who patronized sex workers in the unregulated street market in Dandenong, Australia, did so because the women appeared more “natural” and thus made sexual experiences seem more like those in everyday life.

Erotic capital can also be mediated by race. Brooks (2010) and Khan (2019) each noted the ways women of color exotic dancers had or lacked “racialized erotic capital.” Those perceived as less attractive due to skin tone, weight, or the way they spoke were given fewer opportunities to make money by being scheduled at times where there were fewer customers in strip clubs (Brooks, 2010). Khan (2019) noted how this is emblematic of larger patterns of racial discrimination and desirability when seeking intimate partners. Therefore, being attractive was evaluated differently for women across racial groups and thus not all women could equally trade on that erotic capital.

Erotic capital and sexual fields

Previous research has articulated the importance of recognizing the stratification of sexual desirability (e.g., Green, 2008; Martin and George, 2006; Regan, 2023; Ruppel, 2022). Although earlier research used a “market” metaphor for finding partners (e.g., Collins, 1971; Davis, 1966), later scholarship (Martin and George, 2006) noted that this was not the best fit for looking at sexual pairings for two reasons. First, there is considerable variation in people and in the context of sexual interactions. A “one size fits all” model is ineffective when the same person is seen as highly desirable in some situations and less desirable in other situations. Second, value is ambiguous and fungible in sexual situations.

This does not mean that studying erotic capital is impossible. Martin and George (2006) and Green (2008, 2013), among others, underscored the importance of exploring the social organization of sexual desire. Drawing on Bourdieu, such scholars pointed to the necessity of looking at the differential use of erotic capital in specific locations, called “sexual fields” (Green, 2008, 2013; Martin and George, 2006). Green (2008) defines sexual fields as environments or spaces that determine one’s degree of sexual desirability. Sexual fields are structured according to local aesthetics, organizational norms, and/or, in the age of online dating, technological affordances (Regan, 2023).

Sexual fields allow us to explore how people negotiate sexual situations and present themselves according to environmental norms and standards. Particular “structures of desire” characterize each sexual field and thus not all individuals or even all individuals from similar backgrounds have the same level of erotic capital (Green, 2008). For example, studying sexual fields for gay men in New York City, Green noted that Black men who best fit the standards of desirability in spaces characterized by white structures of desire have more erotic capital than those who do not (Green, 2008). In other words, Black men do not have a universal level of erotic capital in sexual fields where Black men are desired—because specific characteristics (those which correspond with white structures of desire) make certain men more desirable than others.

Applying the idea of sexual fields to the study of Taiwanese “bear” culture in Taipei, Tan (2019) emphasized that certain bodies and appearances are desired more than others in the Taipei bear scene, which may be different from a “bear aesthetic” in other environments. Looking at sexual capital—an aspect of erotic capital focused specifically on attracting sexual partners—Tan wrote that in this “competitive world of the Taipei Bears, one accrues sexual capital by spending time and money buying suitably Bearish fashion, while emulating the hyper-masculine G-man figure from Japan in an arduous muscle-building regime” and noted that men “must also have social visibility by, for instance, posting selfies on Facebook and other social media platforms” (Tan, 2019: 580–581). While men with more generic “bear” looks can readily find partners in other places, they are not read as attractive in the Taipei Bear sexual field.

Although there is inconsistency among sexual fields theorists in determining the scope of a sexual field—with some seeing fields as small, specific spaces and others as subcultures (e.g., Green, 2008, 2013; Hennen, 2008; Martin and George, 2006)—we employ Green’s conception of sexual fields. Thus, we work from the definition of sexual fields as “meso-level” units of analysis, where sexual fields are places with “systematic framework for conceiving erotic worlds in their own right as a particular kind of social organization” (25–26). Consistent with previous research, we thus suggest that sexual fields, though variable in scope, impact erotic capital and erotic dividends.

However, the literature on sexual fields is not without critiques. First, Ruppel (2022) argues that studies of sexual fields tend to favor attractiveness/appearance over other ways of stratifying individuals in a field. In so doing, this minimizes “expressions of domination, such as sexual violence” (555) or other forms of inequality generated within sexual fields. Ruppel underscores the importance of looking at how power and domination operate when discussing these “meso-level” sexual fields (Ruppel, 2022: 558). Second, Wacquant critiques the existence of a “sexual field” or “racial field” given that “desire and racialization […] can and do invade pervade multiple domains of social action” (2014: 124). In other words, fields require “institutionalized boundaries” (Wacquant and Akçaoglu, 2017: 63) and since structures such as racism and sexuality shape the social dynamics of many fields, they wouldn’t be conceptualized as their own field. We also assert that larger cultural structures, particularly those that perpetuate systemic inequalities, can mediate field-specific capital.

Erotic capital and erotic dividends

Generally, investment of capital is done primarily in the hopes of yielding dividends and avoiding a loss. Although some of the research above discusses conversion (or potential conversion) of erotic capital into economic or social capital, most of the studies do not look specifically at the return on use of erotic capital beyond attraction. Thus, by exploring the idea of erotic dividends—that is the benefits that come from using erotic capital—we raise questions about what people do with erotic capital. We also highlight that possessing erotic capital does not automatically guarantee benefits for the possessor. In other words, in addition to looking at elements and contexts of erotic capital, it is important to further examine how erotic capital is used and to whose benefit.

What types of erotic dividends result from the use of erotic capital? Dividends can include sexual activities, sexual satisfaction, intimate relationships, social status, validation of desirability, and psychological rewards. Erotic dividends are what people get out of being pursued or deemed desirable. Some people may be looking simply for physical gratification when seeking sexual partners; others may be looking for more. What someone is seeking and what that person then receives is an important part of understanding exchange in sexualized situations. In some cases, people with erotic capital may not want to use it or may not perceive physical traits as erotic capital.

Although we did not discover research that looks specifically at erotic dividends, Curington et al. (2015), as noted above, identified a “multiracial dividend effect” in online dating where they found white/non-white multiracial daters occupied a “preference premium” due to their presumed greater attractiveness (erotic capital) and therefore received more messages relative to monoracial daters (Curington et al., 2015: 765). For example, users are more likely to rate multiracial Asian women as more attractive than monoracial Asian women due to a combination of stereotypes of both Asian femininity and the glorification of whiteness. However, while this appears as an advantage for multiracial daters, examining messaging patterns does not reveal how daters interpret these messages and if these messages fetishize multiracial daters. We can glean that these daters have erotic capital because they receive more messages, but we are unsure what messages say or what happens after messages are sent. Message content and subsequent interactions can potentially undermine this presumed dividend.

Being attractive (possessing erotic capital) is not always without costs. Some studies have shown how erotic capital can lead to desirability and alienation (e.g., Farrer, 2010; Hoang, 2020; Mears, 2015). Farrer (2010), for instance, looked at sexual relationships among Chinese women and Western men in China in the 1990s and early 2000s. He found that Western men possessed sexual capital when seeking Chinese women sexual partners, by virtue of being foreigners who are perceived to know more about international culture and to be more sexually adventurous. Farrer coins this as “interracial sexual capital” given that such men occupy a privileged status in this particular sexual field when searching for relationships with Chinese women who deem foreign, white more attractive partners. However, Farrer concluded that while Western men have erotic capital in this sexual field, it can lead to further alienation and “mixed consequences for their own psychological and social well-being” (2010: 91). Their erotic capital as foreigners produces the dividend of sexual encounters/relationships but simultaneously reinforces their status as an outsider since they are desired for their “outsider-ness.” Thus, the benefit of their erotic capital is mitigated by the recognition that they are not a part of this community.

Research also finds that it is not only the individuals who have erotic capital who benefit from it (Hoang, 2020; Mears, 2015). Mears (2015), for example, explored what she called “girl capital,” or “women’s embodied symbolic capital” (23), among elites in the VIP party industry. Mears found that “women are unable to capitalize on their bodily capital through participation in the VIP scene precisely because using their bodily capital aligns them with devalued social identities” (2015: 23). In this scene, economic capital is most valuable. So, being valued for their beauty objectifies women. Mears argued that in this context one must shift the focus from “capital as an individual resource to the structural conditions and cultural meanings that make capital unequally convertible” (23). It is important to recognize the way elite men in this patriarchal social world profit from attractive women’s erotic capital to garner the business of other elite men, enhancing their own economic capital. These women have high erotic capital in this sexual field but low personal or economic return for it under these conditions. Systemic gender inequality facilitates this exploitation.

In her research on escorts and sex workers in Vietnam, Hoang (2020) also found that women’s bodies are used as tools to enable interaction among men, who then go on to broker deals and transfer economic capital. Attractive women work as hostesses in Vietnamese night clubs with the primary goal of serving men. The women make very little money, in contrast to those who take advantage of these women’s erotic capital to make financial agreements. Men’s success in brokering deals relies on the sexual objectification of women who play a vital role in building relationships and trust among men. Hoang (2020) also finds that some of these situations place women at greater vulnerability to sexual- or gender-based violence such as private parties where consent is not clearly explicit. Therefore, women not only remain in a subordinated position relative to men who profit from their bodies, but these deals potentially facilitate sexual violence.

In both cases, women’s erotic capital is used as leverage for entertainment and to bolster men’s success. Women’s erotic capital is converted into economic capital—but not for them. From the outside, women in these sexual fields appear to have a great deal of social capital. Their access to wealthy men and lavish lifestyles makes them seem as if they are benefitting from their beauty. And in some ways, they do benefit; they likely enjoy the parties and luxe life that women with less erotic capital cannot access. Mears (2015) noted that women post images on social media of themselves at elite clubs or on private jets—making it appear as if they are trading on their physical assets to great personal gain. The greatest return on their erotic capital, however, is garnered by men. As Hoang noted, “women’s bodies are used to lubricate business deals in homoerotic triangles among state officials, private entrepreneurs and foreign investors” (2020: 569), so men receive the lion’s share of the benefits from women’s erotic capital. Additionally, Mears (2015: 35) argues that while elite men value the presence of women in these VIP spaces, they often treated women as having questionable sexual morality and rendered them as undesirable romantic partners. So, women hoping their erotic capital will yield the dividend of a wealthy long-term partner are likely to be disappointed. This reinforces gender inequality given that men stigmatized women for participating in this scene even though men profit from this arrangement. Simply, women’s ability to yield erotic dividends is related to women’s relative power in society.

Mears (2015: 23) suggested that we must ask questions about “who, beyond the embodied individual, benefits from the value of people’s embodied capital and how?” People with status and power in a sexual field are most likely to yield dividends. People who have less social value in societies stratified by race and gender are less likely to yield erotic dividends than those who have greater social power. Untangling this relationship between erotic capital’s possessor and beneficiary captures how gender inequality and power operate in sexual encounters, relationships, and fields.

Practical examples of erotic dividends

To further explain erotic dividends, we turn to practical examples of use of erotic capital from the first author’s in-depth interview research in two studies on the development of sexual selves among straight women and men. These interviews were conducted with a diverse (race, age, relationship status, and area of residence) set of U.S. resident women and men (Montemurro, 2014, 2022) between the ages of 20 and 68. Interviews with women were conducted between 2009 and 2011 and interviews with men between 2014 and 2016. We discuss two types of examples from these studies: sexualization of women’s breasts and racial stereotyping of Black men.

Using the definition of erotic capital as “the quality and quantity of attributes that an individual possesses which elicits an erotic response in another” (Green, 2008: 29), breasts can be seen as erotic capital with large-breasted women constructed as generally more sexually desirable than small-breasted women in U.S. culture. Therefore, one might presume large-breasted women would be advantaged in sexual fields where this body type is desirable. Yet, the first author recalled several women participants describing uncomfortable feelings associated with having large breasts because it often led to sexual objectification and, in some cases, sexual predation.

Several women explained how they felt a need to hide their breasts because they felt people objectified them and made assumptions about their sexuality because of their bodies. Hailey (20, biracial, upper-middle class, dating) explained, “Like if I didn’t [have large breasts], maybe people would see other things, like that I was smart and talented and pretty in other ways. It felt so frustrating [that] this detracted so much from who I was. Because if have big breasts and my body looks like a prototype… [and] I look like someone who’s sexy, it means I must be a sexy person….” Autumn (39, white, upper-middle class, married) also got the message she was supposed to see her large breasts as an advantage, but she did not. She said, “I am short with big boobs. For the most part I tried to hide how big my boobs were. I didn’t want people to be interested in me sexually…from puberty on…. Certainly, there were occasions where I’d put on a great attractive, sexy dress but for the most part I just didn’t want that kind of attention.” In these cases, looking sexy because of having large breasts (presumed erotic capital) did not yield advantages (erotic dividends). Instead, women felt uncomfortable with what their breasts signified about them.

These examples highlight that possessing erotic capital does not guarantee erotic dividends. Thus, there were situations that they likely did not define as erotic, in which others objectified them and made sexual assumptions about them based on their bodies. Such comments indicate that erotic capital can be activated by others, who respond to “desirable bodies” based on physical characteristics. This can lead to negative outcomes. Specifically, some women brought up sexual assault which they associated with their early physical development. For example, Jacqueline (44, Black, middle class, separated) told of an experience, in middle school, when she was sexually molested by a custodian. What she remembered from that time was questioning if her mature body was the reason why she got this uninvited attention. She said, “I can remember saying well, maybe if I didn’t have breasts, maybe if I didn’t look so much like a little woman that this wouldn’t have happened to me.”

Serena (31, white, middle class, dating) also was molested by a school employee. In her case, it was her 6th grade teacher. She, too, remembered others insinuating this happened to her because she was more developed than other girls her age. She said, “… [some people were saying] because I had developed, you know, maybe I wasn’t wearing the right clothing, maybe I caused that to happen. And I didn’t believe that, but I did think that was part of my covering myself. I just didn’t want to hear about it from other people… I didn’t want there to be anything that they could pin blame on me for.” Serena noted she wore baggy clothes for a long time to try to avoid being sexualized by other people. In this case, even as a child, she understood that the way others judged and perceived her body could lead to circumstances beyond her control. People in positions of power and authority can weaponize erotic capital to their own benefit and in the process harm individuals like Jacqueline and Serena. Similar to Mears (2015) in which elite men capitalize on women’s erotic capital through sexual objectification, the examples presented here highlight how girls’ bodies are sexualized by men who possessed greater power. There was only cost, no benefit or dividend, to being physically developed in these cases. Developed bodies which are framed as desirable or “tempting” (as peers and even family members insinuated to both Jacqueline and Serena) put the burden on them to hide their bodies or be open to sexualization.

When interviewing straight men about their sexual development, Montemurro (2022) found that interview participants perceived Black men as having more erotic capital than other men, despite research to the contrary (e.g., Gonzales and Rolison, 2005). Many Black participants discussed sexual stereotypes attributed to them, such as being well-endowed, sexually skilled, or saying that Black men “get all the girls.” Comments such as these, however, are inattentive to variations in structures of desire in different sexual fields. Looking at online dating, for instance, the empirical realities reveal that Black men are contacted less frequently than white men and if contacted, they may feel desired only because of stereotypes. This highlights how gendered anti-Blackness—either reflected as rejection or pursued solely due to racialized tropes—shapes men’s dating outcomes (Curington et al., 2021).

Expectations for racialized erotic capital in particular sexual fields can thus produce (or fail to produce) dividends that benefit (or penalize) men. When men do not meet expectations, they can fail to receive the desired outcome from the use of their erotic capital. Furthermore, being desired because of racialized perceptions of erotic capital yields only finite benefits and reduces Black men’s erotic value to physicality. The overall outcome of being pursued for racial characteristics (presumed erotic capital) was often fetishization or rejection due to a failure to live up to racialized expectations (Montemurro, 2022). Barry, for example (44, Black, working-class, engaged), shared a story about a woman who was disappointed when he did not meet expectations. He said, “I worked at [an auto store] back in the ‘90s. There was woman I helped put a headlight on for…. We had sex out in her car and… she said, “I thought it would be bigger.” ...I was shocked and surprised. Rejected ‘cause I never got with her again. Obviously, she must have had some big dude… Obviously, I didn’t satisfy her or something.”

In this incident, Barry inferred that race functioned as erotic capital. This woman wanted to hook up with him because she made assumptions about how well-endowed he would be as a Black man. Here, this racialized erotic capital did not yield an erotic dividend because, in addition to essentializing him, ultimately Barry was made to feel as if he was physically inadequate. Although he had sex with this woman, which could be an erotic dividend, her demeaning comment lessened it.

In his study of sexual fields for gay men in New York City, Green (2008) noted that while there were places where Black men were more desirable, the level of capital they had was influenced by its combination with traits associated with stereotypical ideals (“tall, athletic, and hung”) that fit within a white structure of desire that reinforces stereotypes about Black men as hypersexual. Through analysis of Barry’s experience, in addition to applying this to straight men, we expand on this in two ways. First, we suggest that in sexual fields where Black men are sexually desirable, not all of these traits are visible at the time when sexual encounters are initiated. So, the assumption that Black men will be well-endowed or sexually skilled functions as erotic capital. But, benefitting from that capital is contingent on fitting within structures of desire constructed by the pursuer. Second, we emphasize that the structural disadvantage is greater than the sexual field when it exists in societies where whiteness is connected with hegemonic masculinity (Connell, 1995). Even though Black men (and some more than others) might be desired in a particular sexual field, they deal with broader social inequalities such as racism. When Black men are desired primarily because they are Black, they are likely to be well-aware of that racial objectification.

Several Black men spoke of feeling pressure to prove themselves in ways that allowed women’s stereotypical expectations to be met, particularly in sexual encounters with white women. Here again, racialized erotic capital initiated or facilitated sexual interactions. But, it was not as simple as erotic capital yielding erotic dividends. Instead, Black men contended with sexual objectification and racial essentialism. Curtis (55, Black, middle class, engaged), for example, explained that with white women, “it was like I had to go above and beyond to prove how good I was.” In one encounter, he said a white woman told him that “she never had sex with a Black guy before and she was hearing these thoughts or whatever…. she said that, ‘I wanted to have sex with a Black guy and I wanted to do it with you.’” In this case, Curtis leveraged his erotic capital to yield the dividend of sex. However, her comments compromised the experience when she made it clear that she was interested in him only because of her racialized expectations. Therefore, her racial fantasy based on a historical legacy that creates false narratives about Black men’s sexuality diminished the erotic dividend since he didn’t have the satisfaction of feeling wanted for something beyond a racial curiosity.

Similarly, Jack (32, Black, middle class, dating) said he felt that being Black “absolutely played a part in some of my younger getting laid days.” He said that there were times when women expressly told him they wanted to be with him so they could “see if what they say about Black guys are true.” Although Jack said he physically enjoyed these sexual encounters, they did not always make him feel good afterward. He said, “Once [the afterglow] wears off and you’re actually back to normal thinking then you start to think about the fact that like ‘Did she hook up with me because of me or did she just hook up with me so she can get some Mandingo [fantasy]?’”

Jack’s situation highlights how the yield of erotic capital is precarious. Although he experienced sexual satisfaction from these interactions, he also questioned women’s racial motivations. Similar to other findings on Black daters, Jack and Curtis articulated a “double consciousness” when dating interracially in that they internalized how others perceived them as Black men (Curington et al., 2021: 123). This created uncertainty about whether women desired them because of racialized stereotypes and left them dealing with the emotional repercussions.

In cases like these, it becomes evident that there is variation in dividends from the use of erotic capital, even within sexual fields in which, in these cases, Black men are expected to be desired. Erotic capital attracts a partner, creates the opportunity for sex, and can result in sex. But, when sexual fields where Black men’s desirability is grounded in stereotypes that exist within a larger culture characterized by hierarchies of men, and where racism determines positioning in that hierarchy, dividends are unequally distributed. Building on Curington et al.’s (2015) study in which mixed-race status generated greater romantic or sexual interest for many multiracial online daters, their preferred status is likely due to the historical fetishization of multiracial people. We argue that given that these stereotypes imposed expectations that men may not have fulfilled, these sexual situations failed to yield beneficial erotic dividends. Instead, they felt pressure to perform according to expectations rather than to fully enjoy the encounter. And, even when expectations are met, like in Jack’s case, the dividend may be limited to physical gratification and devoid of emotional or other benefits that may come when a person feels desired for who they are, not as a racial stereotype.

Conclusion

In this paper, we develop the idea of erotic dividends to deepen the exploration of erotic capital. Although some research has explored use of erotic capital, much of that research focused on conversion of erotic capital into economic capital. Furthermore, most of the research on erotic capital focuses on advantageous “investments,” with the assumption that capital will yield benefits. This prevailing assumption dilutes the complexity of how erotic capital operates within sexual situations. We demonstrate that outcomes of erotic capital are not guaranteed or consistent. Erotic capital may not always yield advantages and when it does, it can yield benefits which are not easily converted into other forms of capital. Furthermore, the likelihood of yielding erotic dividends is tied to larger structures of gender inequality. In patriarchal societies, women’s erotic capital is mitigated by their subordinate status and the link between appearing sexually desirable and sexual objectification. And, when racism structures and determines desirability, men of color are often subjected to racialized stereotypes that produce unique expectations for sexual performance.

We reviewed and advanced the literature on erotic capital by considering its various outcomes and trajectories in sexual interactions. By exploring erotic dividends, we can also explore what happens when erotic capital is used in ways that ultimately lead to a loss of capital or status to its possessor. In Montemurro’s (2014, 2022) research, sexual pursuits did not always benefit those with the erotic capital. In fact, many participants articulated sexual objectification or experiencing racialized pressure if their sexual performance or bodies did not match a partner’s imagination.

Furthermore, as with erotic capital, erotic dividends are unevenly distributed and while they can elevate one’s status when searching for intimate partners, this does not moderate the structural disadvantages they encounter more broadly. In other words, these are erotic dividends—not just dividends. Perceived status associated with being well-endowed or physically desirable does not necessarily provide benefits beyond attracting sexual partners or having sex, nor does it transform structural inequalities. In fact, given that many of these expectations hinge on harmful, dangerous stereotypes that have been used to justify social inequalities and sexual objectification, erotic capital may perpetuate negative ideas about marginalized communities. Therefore, erotic dividends should be understood as operating within the gendered and racialized sexual landscape of particular sexual fields and, within those fields, specific hierarchies of desirability.

Our research provides multiple applications for the concept of erotic dividends. First, using research by Mears (2015) and Hoang (2020), we show how erotic capital can be leveraged by others and to others’ benefit. Second, we highlight the ways in which erotic capital can be weaponized or imbued on people in problematic ways, ranging from objectification to harassment to sexual violence. In such cases, there are low to no erotic dividends because others with power determine the course of action. Additionally, we show how possessing erotic capital creates situations in which erotic dividends are mitigated by expectations associated with racialized and gendered stereotypes. When people make assumptions about what kind of man or woman someone is, based on physical features which are constructed as erotic capital, it can lead to problematic outcomes.

Future research should explore erotic dividends in other empirical applications. While we have applied erotic dividends to two particular case studies, we wonder how might erotic dividends be analyzed in different sexual situations? We think it would be useful for scholars to take into consideration sexual fields to evaluate how various kinds of erotic capital lead to or diminish erotic dividends. This would further clarify how power, desirability, and structural inequalities manifest in dating and intimate relationships.