One of the most provocative arguments in Esther Perel’s Mating in Captivity is that the core values of modern, egalitarian partnerships—fairness, consensus, and mutual respect—can be antithetical to erotic excitement. While these principles are essential for a healthy and stable relationship, Perel contends that when they are imported wholesale into the bedroom, they often produce “politically correct” but passionless sex. She posits that the erotic imagination operates on a different, more primal logic, one that thrives on power imbalances, aggression, and transgression. For many couples, the key to reviving desire lies in consensually embracing the politically incorrect power dynamics that are typically suppressed in their daily lives.

Perel suggests that the features that make America a progressive society, such as its belief in democracy and equality, can result in an erotic flattening. Couples work hard to eliminate power differentials in their partnership, but this pursuit of fairness can mute the tension that fuels desire. This enlightened model, she argues, often produces “many bored couples” who have respectful but unexciting sex (xxi). This dynamic is rooted in a cultural fear that any play with dominance or submission in the bedroom, even if consensual, endorses real-world oppression. However, Perel insists that the “poetics of sex” are different from the politics of life (57). The erotic realm provides a safe, bounded space to explore disavowed feelings and power structures without threatening the relationship’s foundation of respect.

This liberation is exemplified by the case of Elizabeth and Vito. In their daily life, Elizabeth is a “hyper-responsible” school psychologist who is competent and in control of most things. However, erotically, she is drawn to sexual submission. For her, being “manhandled” by Vito is not degrading. Instead, it’s a welcome “vacation” from the burden of constant decision-making and responsibility. In this context, his dominance is not oppressive; rather, it allows her to access a wilder, less controlled part of herself. Her fantasy life corrects an imbalance in her real life, transforming the power dynamics that would be unacceptable in their partnership into a source of intense excitement. This demonstrates Perel’s thesis that eroticism allows partners to safely step out of their prescribed roles and transgress the rules that govern their domestic life.

The erotic embrace of power is not limited to submission; it also provides a crucial outlet for aggression, an emotion often seen as antithetical to love. Perel argues that aggression is an intrinsic part of sexuality that cannot be fully excised. She presents the case of Jed, a mild-mannered architect who is sexually drawn to sadomasochism. For him, S-M is a safe “venue for aggression” that allows him to override his typical “emotional subordination” (64). Sex is where he can feel assertive and powerful without fearing he will hurt his partner, Coral. Citing analyst Stephen Mitchell, Perel explains that the waning of desire is often due “to the inability to sustain the necessary tension” between love and aggression (63). Integrating aggression, rather than eradicating it, becomes essential for maintaining erotic vitality. By creating a space for such primal energies, couples can tap into a powerful source of excitement that their democratic daily lives may otherwise suppress.