Most of us can’t remember when we first saw a woman scantily clad. Within the Millennial and Gen Z generations, hypersexualized content has been ubiquitous for so long that the trope of discreetly browsing the lingerie pages of a department store magazine has been granted an obsolescence on par with VCRs (just Google it, kid). The average boy with a smartphone today has access to more sexual material in his pocket than the most promiscuous of kings in any century before. The difference is that today’s version cuts off both the process and most of the results that come with being allowed legitimate access to intimacy.

It’s troubling to wonder whether history’s great men would have been subdued by access to sexual material with no tradeoff necessary. Would that kind of exposure have caused them the same kinds of problems suffered by men today? After all, it was Josephine’s pace of sending letters that famously compelled Napoleon to fight with more tenacity to get back to her. Low testosterone, diminished libido, decreased energy, and lack of motivation—these are just a few of the epidemic-level effects of porn on today’s men. Evaluating the socio-cultural output of this silent vice leaves little doubt that loneliness and lack of meaning are complemented by the compulsive and habitual use of hypersexual material. More than likely, it is one of the most prominent forces behind them.

Awareness has been budding in recent years. Research on the subject, while shocking, has driven efforts to curb the trend away from porn use with little opposition. The use of hypersexual material has earned a growing reputation as a tool of the undisciplined, yet this trend continues uphill into an avalanche. Not because the concern isn’t taken seriously or the effort isn’t genuine, but because hypersexual material has found safety in our daily feeds—constantly leaving cracks in doors we struggled to shut, allowing the best of us to slip out of our souls and away from the relationships that rely on that energy to thrive.

The familiar black-and-yellow monogram (not ours… you know the one) emblazoned atop the same screen used to share date-night snaps and loving anniversary posts is just one of the many avenues through which our manhood escapes us. The draw of hypersexual material for men is simple: men are visual creatures, and we value the path of least resistance.

Man have need.
Man find solution.
Man fill need.
Man solved problem.
Man happy.

For all the studying and synthesizing done on the subject, an interpretation basic enough to precede the need for proper English will do. An uproar of men swearing they are more complicated than that will oppose this, at which point I will assure them that even the most sophisticated of us are not above the most basic evolutionary processes. It is a good thing that we are naturally coded for these mechanisms. It is the same drive that allowed humans to advance beyond more powerful and fearsome creatures. It is what drove men to pursue procreation before any language attempted to come up with a word for love.

It didn’t stop there. It is the same set of attributes that drove us to kill to protect our immediate tribe from predators and hunt to feed them. As the world advanced, these masculine drives adapted—to protect with broader tools and hunt with more sophistication. Even when divorced from the philosophical sanctity of what loving relationships have become, sexual impulse has served virtually the same ends. On some level, I believe the shame associated with porn use exists because we know we are actively choosing to fail at the sacred pursuit of intimacy and abusing its tools for a satisfaction devoid of value. Social media has not nullified its utility, but it is depleting its power—and it does so before the browser is opened to a fresh incognito tab.

A free-speech debate roars on while men struggle to maintain their discipline. Is it the content creator’s fault that your Instagram is clogged with posts from porn actresses and OnlyFans models? No. Are you a bad person for struggling to scroll away when your TikTok algorithm thinks on behalf of your libido? Also no. Here is the truth: if you are not in a committed relationship, the slow drip of sexual drive into spaces that give nothing in return will be detrimental to your ability to foster one. If you are in a relationship, you are giving away contributions that rightfully belong to your significant other. What’s worse, you are giving it to no one, and doing it for nothing, one penny at a time.

This is not a matter of puritanical admonishment, but a call to understanding ourselves as men with value, who have crucial places in the world as reproductive counterparts. The essence of what makes us masculine is a non-negotiable boon to the betterment of our relationships.

Post-nut clarity is helpful when you are about to misuse your sexual drive. But within the confines of love, it’s a cheap reward for avoiding the work required to maintain intimacy. This brand of satisfaction fills a need the same way hunger is “fixed” with a family-size pack of Double Stuf Oreos for one—a feat I totally haven’t accomplished before. In the hypothetical world where I’m totally speaking hypothetically about eating that many Oreos, I hypothetically would have satisfied my hunger but felt like garbage for the rest of the day. Worse still, my appetite would have been spoiled for anything else, including anything good and healthy. Hypothetically, of course. In the same manner, cheap satisfaction of intimate appetites leaves you with compromised desire for the one person your desire was meant for.

The hardest question to face is: why do you use it? I purposely describe it as “use” within this context because that is precisely what is happening – the exercise of an addictive behavior. I’ll bet that most of the time you use it, the urge has nothing to do with arousal. I’ll bet you do it when you’re stressed and need to relax. I’ll bet it’s when your dopamine is depleted and it’s the one reliable method you know to reset your nervous system. This is not self-exploration; it’s coping. In the process, it becomes increasingly antisocial. The women on the screen are no longer viewed as sovereign individuals, but as humans turned into commodified products. The persistent practice of actively viewing women as anything less than human will inevitably rewire the brain away from connection, and further inhibit the capacity for real intimacy.

It could just as easily be replaced by any other vice that satisfies an addictive impulse, such as nicotine or alcohol—though I would place porn addiction alongside heroin in terms of potency and destruction. It serves no individual or social utility. It is a wrecking ball to real-life romance. For most of us, it’s an addiction that must go. But how?

Aside from apps and support groups (including this one) that are available and ready to stand with you against impulses riddled with shame, solutions must be painstakingly built. It won’t be easy, so start simple. Unfollow the models and actresses you know are pulling you away from discipline. Go into your Instagram settings and reset your algorithm so they stop appearing without your consent. Do the same with TikTok to mitigate the rapid fire of sexual content in your feed.

Then take that reclaimed time and energy and truly evaluate what it’s keeping you from. Do you miss workouts because urges come knocking? Are you lethargic in your relationship, avoiding the work love demands? Do you feel you have more to offer the world but never have the energy? That’s where you need to begin. Concurrently, build the rest of your life in a way that makes porn use inconvenient. It becomes difficult to maintain a vice when you constantly have better things to do.

Lastly, embrace the shame you feel and take the time to sort it out. Healthy masculinity understands the difference between emotions and responds accordingly, instead of reaching for a blanket vice. Shame, anxiety, anger, sadness, joy—all of these require their own attention, and they deserve better than the cheapest option that offers nothing in return.