Asexual Representation on TV: the Good, the Bad and the Ugly
Television has a tumultuous relationship with asexuality.
Over the past few decades, LGBTQ+ orientations have gradually received wider acceptance through positive representation in text and on-screen. But asexuality still remains relatively untouched within popular mainstream media — even when it’s depicted negatively. Examining both positive and negative representation is crucial to understanding how society perceives asexuality and how the media affects its audiences. (Or vice versa.)
Before I analyze three specific television shows on their portrayals of asexuality, it’s important to explain amatonormativity and queer coding since both concepts play into my criticism of asexual representation on TV.
Rice University Professor of Philosophy Elizabeth Brake describes amatonormativtity as:
“The assumptions that a central, exclusive, amorous relationship is normal for humans, in that it is a universally shared goal, and that such a relationship is normative, in that it should be aimed at in preference to other relationship types.”
Likewise, SyFy explains queer coding as:
“A process by which characters in a piece of fictional media seem — or code — queer … These characters seem somehow less than straight, and so we associate those characters with queerness — even if their sexual orientation is never a part of their story.”
The lack of positive, canonical asexual representation influenced by amatonormativity leads people to speculate asexual-coded fictional characters. Sherlock Holmes. Sheldon Cooper. Dexter Morgan. Princess Elsa. Lord Varys. (There’s definitely range here.)
Mainstream asexual representation is often not about the presence of an asexual identity, but the clear lack of heterosexuality or amatonormativity.
Even if characters like Sherlock Holmes or Sheldon Cooper are not explicitly asexual, viewers unfamiliar with asexuality might associate an aversion to sex with neuroticism, abnormality, and condescension. These associations then perpetuate the cycle of bad representation.
I’ll be evaluating three shows — BoJack Horseman, Sirens, and House, M.D. — on their portrayal of asexuality and rating them as good, bad, or ugly. I chose these shows specifically because the characters use the term “asexual” in dialogue. As a result, I have to leave out a few shows I wish I could talk about, like Riverdale (which ignored Jughead Jones’s confirmed asexuality in the Archie comics) and Shadowhunters (Raphael Santiago is confirmed off-screen but demonstrates asexual behavior in the show).
Disclaimer: This article will contain spoilers for BoJack Horseman, Sirens, and House, M.D. Read at your own discretion.
BoJack Horseman (The Good)
Todd Chavez is a human male and close friend/roommate of BoJack Horseman on the Netflix adult animated series, BoJack Horseman. The show follows BoJack, an anthropomorphic horse and washed-up 90s actor, in a fictional version of Hollywood.
There are plenty of episodes that cover Todd’s asexuality, so I can’t choose just one to analyze. (What an ideal problem to have.) Instead, I’d like to share why I believe Todd is currently the best asexual representation on mainstream TV.
How BoJack Horseman subverts typical asexual representation:
- Todd Chavez is a main, developed character on BoJack Horseman.
- His personality is fun and upbeat where “cold and calculative” are stereotypically asexual.
- His identity is never the punchline. Instead, the joke often falls on other characters who are almost absurdly obsessed with sex and romance that put him in an awkward situation.
- The show explores the nuances of the asexual identity. This includes distinguishing aromantic (people who don’t experience romantic attraction) from alloromantic (people who experience romantic attraction) and the asexual dating experience.
- His journey of self-discovery takes place over several seasons. Asexuality often receives the “special episode” treatment where the asexual character appears and leaves within a few episodes.
- Todd isn’t aromantic. I’m aromantic, but I like how BoJack Horseman explores Todd’s dating experience as an asexual person who wants a romantic connection with someone else. It also means the show didn’t fall into the trap of conflating sex with romantic love, as many shows do.
Todd went from, “I’m not gay. I mean I don’t think I am, but I don’t think I’m straight either. I don’t know what I am I think I might be nothing,” in season 3 to proudly declaring, “I am asexual!” in season 5. That transformation just makes my asexual heart sing with joy. I can imagine my fellow aces going through the same journey of self-acceptance.
My only criticism for Todd’s representation is that he only dates asexual partners after Emily. This may misconstrue the idea that asexual people can only date each other when that is hardly the case. (Though I like that he realizes his only similarity with Yolanda is that they’re both asexual and that isn’t the only reason to date someone. I’m happy things worked out with Maude. And who am I to complain about including more asexual characters?)
I give BoJack Horseman “The Good” category for portraying asexuality in a genuine, enduring spotlight. Other shows should learn from BoJack Horseman’s representation. I’d like to see a world filled with Todd Chavezes.
Sirens (The Bad)
The workplace comedy Sirens (2014–2015) follows three friends Brian, Johnny, and Hank in their lives as Chicago paramedics, or EMTs. Valentina, a fellow EMT and Brian’s love interest, is canonically asexual.
The asexual representation in Sirens is well-known in the online asexual community (for better or for worse) but I went into Sirens willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. In season one episode six titled, “The Finger,” Brian tells Johnny and Hank that he has a crush on Valentina. Brian’s friends warn him is that he shouldn’t pursue Valentina because she will never have sex with him.
“The Finger” premiered in 2014 and gave a valiant effort at portraying asexuality for the time. Yet the episode is littered with asexual stereotypes and misconceptions. And while Brian challenges many myths, the show still tends to frame asexuality as this mysterious “Other.”
In season two, Val breaks up with Brian when he bluffs that he has “transcended” sexuality. Despite Brian being visibly upset over their breakup, Hank and Johnny remind him that he can actually have sex now. They tell Brian that his relationship with Val was basically a platonic friendship. Johnny tells Brian:
“When you think about it, nothing has changed. You’re still friends, you’re still not having sex.”
Hank and Johnny laugh at Brian who claims that he had a deeper connection with Val, saying she’s “not having sex with someone else now.” While I’m not a big fan of Johnny and Hank’s jokes, I appreciate that Brian reflects on his relationship with Val as deeper than friendship, but different from an amatonormative romantic relationship. A lot of aromantic and or asexual people pursue what is called queerplatonic relationships. DiveThru defines a queerplatonic relationship:
“There are typically hard lines separating friendship and romance, but in QPRs there are NO lines! Societal norms usually dictate that romantic partners should be more physically and emotionally close to each other. Holding hands, cuddling, touching and kissing are seen as things that only people in romantic relationships do.”
Brian and Val’s relationship would’ve been a great opportunity to explore queerplatonic relationships on TV. Instead, we get Brian’s friends reminding him that his relationship wasn’t “normal” so he shouldn’t be sad.
Shortly after, Val begins dating Doug, an asexual man. Sirens possibly implies that asexuals are only compatible with other asexual partners. BoJack Horseman went down a similar route, but at least they added the storyline where Todd finds another, more compatible asexual partner.
However, Sirens deserves praise for portraying an explicitly asexual woman. Based on my earlier examples, cis men are overwhelmingly portrayed as asexual or asexual-coded, so I appreciate the change. However, Sirens gets “The Bad” category because the episode frames how other people perceive asexuality rather than focusing on Valentina’s story. She’s not a major character and the show confines asexuality to an episode or two that deal specifically with her identity.
Sirens only has two seasons, so I can’t fault them for not giving Valentina a developed character arc of her orientation. But that would’ve been so great for asexual representation! Also, I can’t get over the irony of an asexual character on a show called Sirens, even if the show is about paramedics and not mythical sirens.
House, M.D. (The Ugly)
To truly understand asexual representation on TV, we need to talk about one of the most infamous on-screen portrayals of asexuality from the medical mystery drama House, M.D. In season nine episode eight “Better Half,” a male patient reveals he and his wife are in an asexual relationship. Upon hearing this news, Dr. House doubts that the couple can be both asexual and happy in their marriage. Dr. House declares,
“[Sex] is a fundamental drive of our species, sex is healthy. Lots of people don’t have sex. The only people who don’t want it are either sick, dead, or lying.”
Can I get a source on that, Dr. House?
Dr. House also refers to the patient’s wife as “a giant pool of algae.” This comment conflates the asexual orientation with asexual organisms in biology. Way to be original, House.
Moreover, House, M.D. trivializes asexuality when Dr. House “successfully” discovers that the patient’s brain tumor diminished his sex drive, causing him to not want sex. The patient’s wife confirms that she lied about her asexuality for her husband. As a result, Dr. House believes he has solved asexuality. However, he only affirms how negative representation damages public perception of asexuality. The couple in House, M.D. are monogamously married and seemingly well-adjusted, yet the show pushes amatonormative beliefs when Dr. House medically scrutinizes their lack of physical intimacy.
For many viewers, this episode might have been their first time seeing asexuality represented on-screen. But this depiction fails to validate asexuality as an inherent identity rather than a medical abnormality. Despite the harmful House, M.D.’s portrayal of asexuality, its explicit use of “asexual” back in 2012 sparked discourse surrounding proper representation.
House, M.D. receives “The Ugly” category because it depicts Dr. House reducing asexuality to a medical condition or celibacy and “curing” it.
Overall, media has definitely made progress in its portrayals of asexuality, but not without a few missteps along the way.
For example, conflating aromanticism with asexuality is problematic, but Hollywood commonly does this. Romance and sex are conveyed as intrinsic to a “normal” relationship.
Furthermore, besides Sirens, most of the representation portrays cisgender men. But this media trend doesn’t reflect reality. A recent study from the Williams Institute explains,
More than one-quarter (27%) of asexuals identify as women and three-quarters (72%) identify as genderqueer/non-binary. An overwhelming majority of asexuals were assigned female at birth (86%), compared with 14% who were assigned male at birth.
By assigning stereotypically asexual characteristics to primarily cis men, Hollywood highlights a lack of desire for sex as a red flag. (Also, these characters are overwhelmingly white, but that could be a whole other article about race and sexualization in Hollywood.)
But things are looking up for asexual representation — especially for streaming services. Netflix has given us Todd Chavez and Florence from Sex Education who receives a beautiful, affirming message from Jean, a sex therapist:
“Sex doesn’t make us whole. And so, how could you ever be broken?”
Hearing that statement on a mainstream television show feels like a big step in the right direction for asexual representation. Even better, Sex Education acknowledges aromantic people instead of assuming all asexuals are also aromantic. Sex Education is only in its second season, but I hope Florence becomes a recurring character. Hopefully, the advent of streaming services will increase the aromantic and/or asexual stories on-screen.
Some people might ask, “Why do you care so much about representation?” Greater aromantic and asexual representation means fewer people will believe they’re broken and destined to live a life of loneliness. They don’t have to feel alienated because they can’t relate to grand gestures of love in rom-coms or notice how asexual-coded characters are usually cold and unfeeling.
It’s alright if you watch and enjoy any of the shows I was critical of in this article. I just wanted to analyze their characters and episodes from an asexual perspective. I hope you learned something new about how asexuality is portrayed on-screen and how addressing the discourse will lead to better representation in the future.
Sources/Inspiration
Why Film and TV Erased Asexuality
Asexuality and Aromanticism Television Representation (Unpacking the Problems)
Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen
