We Don't Have an Eroticism Problem. We Have a Curiosity Problem.

Monday, July 27, 2026.

Every generation develops its own explanation for why relationships lose their vitality.

We blame stress.

Children.

Technology.

Work.

Pornography.

Social media.

Now, increasingly, we blame certainty.

In a thoughtful recent profile in The Atlantic, Faith Hill revisits Esther Perel's influential argument that modern couples often sacrifice desire in their pursuit of security.

We seek predictability, transparency, and emotional safety, even though eroticism has always depended on uncertainty, playfulness, and the recognition that another person can never be fully known.

Hill suggests that America's declining sexual interest may be part of something larger—an "eroticism shortage" rooted in a broader discomfort with ambiguity.

I think that's an intriguing observation.

I also think it points toward a deeper problem.

Not an eroticism shortage.

But perhaps a curiosity shortage.

Because the bedroom isn't where this begins.

One of the strengths of Hill's article is that it isn't really about sex.

It's about culture.

She describes a society that has become increasingly vigilant, distrustful, and hungry for certainty. Communities have weakened. Trust has declined. Many of us seem less willing to tolerate ambiguity than previous generations.

Notice that almost none of those trends are about sexuality.

They're about how we experience other people.

Sex is simply one place where those changes become visible.

We've become remarkably uncomfortable with not knowing.

Think about how modern life works.

We know where our package is.

Where our Uber is.

Whether our flight is delayed.

How many hours we slept.

Our credit score.

Our step count.

Our phones have quietly trained us to believe that uncertainty is a temporary inconvenience waiting to be solved.

Then we carry that expectation into our relationships.

What is my partner thinking?

Why were they quiet?

What did that text really mean?

Are we okay?

Increasingly, we approach intimacy as though enough information will finally eliminate uncertainty.

It won't.

Because another human being is not an information problem.

They're a consciousness.

Communication is overrated.

That sentence probably sounds strange coming from a couples therapist.

Communication matters.

Of course it does.

But I sometimes think we've elevated communication while neglecting something even more fundamental.

Curiosity.

Communication tells me what you're thinking.

Curiosity reminds me that I don't already know.

Those are different postures.

One seeks answers.

The other remains open to discovery.

The most important sentence in the article

One line from the Atlantic profile stayed with me long after I finished reading it.

Perel says that couples should accept they'll "always have more to discover about each other."

I couldn't agree more.

Not because mystery is erotic.

Because another person is never finished.

The spouse you wake up beside this morning is not exactly the same person you kissed goodnight ten years ago.

They've changed.

So have you.

Healthy marriages don't eliminate that reality.

They stay interested in it.

The couples who concern me most

After decades of working with couples, I've become less worried about conflict.

Conflict often means two people are still trying to understand one another.

The couples who concern me are the certain ones.

Every disagreement already has an explanation.

Every silence already has a motive.

Every disappointment confirms an old story.

Nothing genuinely new is allowed to emerge because each partner has quietly decided they already know who the other person is.

You cannot remain curious about someone you've turned into a conclusion.

Maybe we've confused information with intimacy.

Technology has made information almost frictionless.

Relationships have not become easier in the same way.

No amount of information can replace the slow, ongoing work of discovering another human being.

You can know your partner's schedule.

Medical history.

Political opinions.

Favorite music.

Attachment style.

Love language.

Personality profile.

You can know almost everything about someone.

And still fail to remain interested in who they are becoming.

Those are not the same thing.

A different way to think about intimacy

Reading Hill's article, I found myself wondering whether the opposite of intimacy isn't distance.

It's certainty.

The moment I become convinced that I completely understand another person, curiosity begins to fade.

When curiosity fades, attention follows.

When attention fades, so often does tenderness.

And eventually, desire notices.

Perhaps this is why eroticism struggles in a culture that increasingly rewards immediate answers.

Not because mystery is sexy.

But because curiosity is one of the deepest expressions of love.

The real intimacy crisis

Faith Hill may be right.

Perhaps America is experiencing an eroticism shortage.

I simply wonder whether eroticism is the first thing we've lost.

Maybe what we've lost is the willingness to approach our life partner with the quiet assumption that there is still something important we do not know.

That isn't naiveté.

It's humility.

And after many years of sitting with couples, I've become convinced that humility may be one of the most romantic qualities a marriage can possess.

Because lasting love isn't built on finally understanding another person.

It's built on never losing the desire to keep discovering them.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.