SEX. Everybody wants it, but nobody at Harvard knows how to get it. Historically, sex at Harvard has been as hard to get as an A from Harvey C. Mansfield, but the problem seems to be more acute now. What is it about Harvard that makes romance so elusive? Why does this campus seem so sexually stagnant?

The appearance of an article in this month's Esquire magazine suggests that the sexual atmosphere on Harvard's campus has actually gotten worse. On every campus, fears of disease, unwanted pregnancy and rejection have always had chilling influences on sex life.

But the article in Esquire and the dialogue that has ensued since its publication have drawn attention to what has become a dire situation for many Harvard students, and not just for the conventional reasons.

Still, sex at Harvard is possible. Here's how:

LYNN DARLING '72, the article's author, cites what may be the most important reason that business at Harvard Square's lingerie shops has slowed down in recent times: the lingering remnants of the debate on sexual politics that has dominated the campus press over the last couple of years.

While the work of groups like Response and the Date Rape Task Force has encouraged dialogue and informed students of harassment and acquaintance rape, it may have also intensified the fears and anxiety about dating and romance.

I remember one of my dorm's first study breaks in the fall when we discussed some of the problems involved with the dating scene. The most frequently asked question by the women was "How do I get to know a guy better without leading him on?" The men who were attuned to women's fear of violence then asked "Well, how do we know when women are interested in us as more than friends without taking the uncertain leap into possible embarrassment or aggressive behavior?"

For those brave souls who are still dating or are at least contemplating dating, there is also the natural Harvard tendency to overanalyze everything.

As Laurence J. Sprung '92 put it in the Esquire article, "It's a total fucking mess. Everything has become so analyzed...[that] in bed, you just don't know what's going on."

Assistant Professor of Psychology Todd F. Heatherton attributes the sexual confusion to "ambiguous roles in society, like who should ask whom out. Harvard students are attuned to these issues and a lot of males are inhibited about coming on too strong."

Given this tense atmosphere of sexual confusion, it's no wonder that students compare themselves to the character in T.S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock who hysterically asks, "Do I dare to eat a peach?"

Before you say "speak for yourself" too quickly, look at the facts. When the Indy's survey on Harvard students' sexual practices came out last fall, it only confirmed the plague of despairing celibacy. Almost half of all Harvard students have not even had a relationship with another Harvard student.

The problem must have gotten worse by February because by then, Rabbi Sally Finestone, the acting director of Hillel, was giving advice to students in a lecture entitled "Sex, Romance, and Rejection."

Murray A. Rabinowitz '95, a student who attended the lecture, said, "You know it's bad news when you have members of the clergy giving tips on meeting members of the opposite sex".

Darling is right for pointing out that sexual politics, overanalysis and AIDS have put romance on the back burner for many students. It seems to me, however, that these reasons are only part of the answer.