Throughout the 1990s, during my field research into conflicts over sexuality education, I was initially riveted by what I found—public discussions that flared into furious arguments. Neighbors hurled epithets like "fascist" and "McCarthyite" at each other, while school board meetings went from sleepy affairs to late-night shouting matches involving hundreds of residents. Adrenaline buzzed throughout public meetings, all of us alert to the next outburst. School board members told me about receiving death threats, being spit on, and having tires slashed. After explosive meetings they received police escorts to their cars. One prominent sex education foe collapsed from an anxiety attack during his speech at an especially rancorous meeting, while those of us left waiting in the school auditorium worried in hushed whispers that he had died of a heart attack. Sex education conflicts escalated rapidly through the 1990s and spread to nearby cities as though contagious. Sensational media coverage heightened these public battles, while officials scrambled for solutions. These were the feelings of community controversies, local dramas played out in the shadow of national politics.
To paraphrase the British sociologist Stanley Cohen, societies appear to be subject, every now and then, to periods of sex panic. A derivative of Cohen's concept "moral panic," the term sex panic was coined in 1984 by the anthropologist Carole Vance to explain volatile battles over sexuality. Both moral panic and sex panic have been used by activists and the media and have been adopted and revised by sociologists, historians, and cultural studies scholars. Prominent researchers, among them Estelle Freedman, Gayle Rubin, Jeffrey Weeks, and Lisa Duggan, deployed the panic metaphor—moral panic, sex-crime panic, AIDS panic, or sex panic—to explore political conflict, sexual regulation, and public volatility about sex.
A vivid analytic term, moral panic bespeaks the mobilization of intense affect in the service of moral politics. Cohen's moral panic, which described the 1960s reaction to rioting by youth groups (the mods and the rockers) in the vacation town of Brighton, featured angry crowds milling at British seacoast towns and hyperbolic media coverage. Likewise, sex panic aptly captured the hostile political climate during late-twentieth-century controversies over gay rights, censorship, and sex education.
Sex panics are significant because they are "the political moment of sex," which Weeks and Rubin both describe as the transmogrification of moral values into political action. I extend their important claim by suggesting that public emotion is a powerful catalyst in effecting this political moment. In this article, I suggest that we can enhance the analytic power of the moral/sex panic framework by integrating social theories of emotion.
As I discuss below, the sex panic literature tends to focus on structural elements, in particular the expansion of state power through institutional mechanisms of regulation. Public feeling, although acknowledged in passing by most sex panic scholars, is often represented as anarchic, moblike, and hysterical, all descriptions that recall late-nineteenth-century critiques of the irrational crowd. Lack of attention to public sentiment in the sex panic literature is likely intended to minimize its importance, in contrast to moral conservatives who exaggerate the significance of collective outrage to legitimate social control. As Cohen noted in the recent thirtieth-anniversary edition of Folk Devils and Moral Panics, political progressives tend to use the term moral panic to expose collective volatility as "tendentious." Unfortunately, however, this strategy places the panic of a sex panic outside social and political reach. I am suggesting that we broaden our analysis of sex panics to include their deep emotional dimensions, including how emotions braid through and legitimize structures of domination.
Overt emotion is not only increasingly acceptable but seemingly required in contemporary politics, where it conveys righteous solidarity and demands state intervention. Contemporary Western societies consider feelings the core of the self; they are constructed as a site of truth and ethics. Hence feelings, as Michel Foucault has argued, are "the main field of morality," and indeed of the moral panic. In contrast to scholars who view the emotions of sex panics as irrational, moral conservatives cast them as authentic moral outrage. Because of its cultural authority, public emotion can pressure politicians, police, media, and other regulatory agents to...