A pre-party conversation last Saturday night drifted through several topics before ending, inevitably, on sex. One guy, who had previously challenged a female friend of mine on the effectiveness of condoms, admitted he was having unprotected sex. Although his sexual partner was taking birth-control, the two had, on several occasions, engaged in what he deemed “casual sex”: sex without any other protection. But he had nothing to fear, of course, because “Harvard students must be clean.”

The conversation alarmed me, as have many other “sex” conversations I’ve had at college. A month ago, two guys argued that it is fine to dump a girl if she refuses sex after a couple dates. Another guy complained he was sick of dating girls who “don’t put out.” During the conversation, I became frustrated that my friends suffered from the sexual blindness and ignorance that affects so many college students. As a result, and especially with the novelty of a parent-free, co-ed residential environment that provides opportunities for “nook” within easy distance, many young adults have accepted dangerous forms of casual, unprotected sex as the norm.

As much of a cop-out as it may seem to blame the media, increasingly overt messages from popular culture have certainly made an impression on young people’s view of sex today. During my high school years, YM and Seventeen magazines were a vital source of information, and they often included special pullout sections revealing the essentials every girl had to know before, during and after the deed. Although these magazines were always careful to mention that virginity was an acceptable option, the constant emphasis on sex stood staunchly in contradiction to such claims. Virgins, after all, were really just prudes or girls who couldn’t “get any.”

As I approached adulthood, my leisurely reading material progressed to Cosmopolitan and Glamour. Each month, the covers of both magazines are dominated by headlines relating to sex. Often, I have wished for a sex filter so I could abscond from the latest kama sutra special, from the array of sexual positions and sex-infiltrated list of ways to satisfy my man.

And societal pressure towards casual sex is not exclusive to the female gender. Despite its profundity on the topics of sports, fashion and beer, Maxim, the male Cosmopolitan, is full of tips on how to get laid. Throughout history, young men who happen to be virgins have been derided as unmasculine and abnormal. Nowadays, however, with the very present danger of STDs, men may risk annoying, painful and even fatal diseases in their attempt to fit into society’s mold.

Cosmopolitan, Glamour and Maxim are not bad magazines: In addition to sex, they also encourage emotional well-being and emphasize the importance of committed relationships. The problems arise when those magazines, and other channels of popular culture, make sex seem required. Though “Sex and the City” has given many young adults increased sexual confidence, it has also influenced many women to think that sex is only about power and self-satisfaction. Popular icons, who serve as role models for many young people—often via music, movies and public appearances—take casual teenage sex for granted.

This trend is disturbing. Sex for people our age should not be mandatory. Post-teen virgins should not be ostracized as some rare species. Yet popular culture tells us the opposite and encourages young adults, especially college students, to lose their virginity. Unfortunately, this rush is easily accommodated on college campuses, where newly found friends and neighbors—or random individuals at parties—become the sexual conquest.

I am not against sex. My harshness is directed specifically at the kind of sex so often found on college campuses: unprotected and uncommitted, and with the accompanying lack of concern participants demonstrate towards the serious consequences that may ensue after such actions. When a friend says, “I won’t be infected by a STD; it’s college,” I am offended. This callous attitude seems to disregard the seriousness of STD problems suffered by others across the nation and the world.

College students may pay attention to the prospect of unwanted pregnancy and potentially fatal diseases, and most have heard the shocking figures about STDs. The amount of unprotected sex occurring daily on college campuses shows, however, that few remain shocked for very long.

Perhaps the academic excellence at Harvard allows students to ignorantly assume that the chance of infection is slim. (Despite this academic excellence, one would hope that students still assume their fellow Harvardians fertile enough for accidental pregnancy). Nationwide, 45 million people ages 12 and older—one of five of the total adolescent and adult population—are infected with HSV-2. If America was reduced to your 20 person Economics section, four of them would test positive. Harvard students get herpes; Harvard students get pregnant. Harvard students even get HIV. So be shocked, because infection from unprotected sex is highly possible. With AIDS a rampant killer in the global community, it is ignorant and insulting that many college students, when choosing to have sex, pay little attention to the dangers of their pastime.

I will say it again: Sex is not a bad thing. Under the right conditions, it can be good for both body and soul. But everyone deserves committed, protected sex. Disease, unwanted pregnancy, or even just the confused emotions that often result from unprotected, casual sex can act as a ruinous deterrent to one’s college career. We, along with our families, have all sacrificed so much to get to Harvard. Why jeopardize our health, studies or sanity for something as trivial as random play? The attitude of young adults needs to change so that sex is not seen as compulsory before graduation, and so that those who abstain are not mocked for their decision. College, despite what we are often led to believe, can be about more than keggers and blowjobs.

Jasmine J. Mahmoud ’04, a Crimson editor, is a government concentrator in Winthrop House.