Stepping into Babeland for the first time was eye-opening. Unlike the seedy sex shops glimpsed off highway exits, this Manhattan store was bright and inviting. My mission was clear: purchase my first vibrator. With my supportive, sex-positive friend by my side, I navigated a surprising array of options with the help of a knowledgeable salesperson. Her credit card swipe at the counter felt like a symbolic step onto a path of self-discovery. Looking back, that pink vibrator truly did initiate a journey into understanding my own sexuality and pleasure.
This exploration of personal pleasure tools like the vibrator reveals a history far richer and more complex than many realize. While the electric vibrator was indeed patented by a British doctor in the 1880s, its evolution from medical device to mainstream pleasure object is intertwined with threads of politics, medicine, and cultural shifts. Sex historian Hallie Lieberman, the world’s first PhD in the history of sex toys, unravels this fascinating story in her book, “Buzz: The Stimulating History of the Sex Toy.”
Lieberman’s own entry into the world of sex toys began in the early 2000s in Austin, Texas, where they were still illegal. Working for a home party company, she navigated the legal constraints by using coded language. Instead of anatomical terms, euphemisms like “man in the boat” were used to describe the clitoris, highlighting the then-taboo nature of discussing sex toys openly. This experience ignited her curiosity about the historical context of these devices and the often-misleading narratives surrounding them.
One pervasive myth, often repeated in both academic and popular culture, is what Lieberman calls the “vibrator myth.” This myth claims vibrators were invented to treat “female hysteria,” a catch-all diagnosis for women experiencing everything from anxiety to fatigue. The story goes that doctors, faced with women’s “sexual dissatisfaction” (the supposed root of hysteria), manually stimulated their patients to orgasm, supposedly curing them. The vibrator, according to the myth, was invented as a labor-saving device, a way for doctors to efficiently provide orgasmic “cures” and see more patients.
This narrative, while sensational, is entirely false. Lieberman’s extensive research, detailed in both scholarly articles and publications like The New York Times, debunks this myth. The enduring popularity of the “hysteria cure” myth, she argues, stems from two main factors. Firstly, it’s titillating; it plays into a “doctor-patient porn” fantasy, making the history of vibrators seem more exciting and “dirty.” Secondly, and more importantly, it reinforces a patriarchal view of female sexuality as something needing male intervention and “awakening.” The myth suggests Victorian-era women were ignorant of their own sexuality and that doctors, initially clueless about female pleasure beyond penetration, inadvertently “discovered” the clitoris through manual stimulation. This narrative is demonstrably untrue. Historical sources reveal that people were well aware of the clitoris and its pleasure-giving capabilities, even possessing vaginal devices resembling dildos long before the vibrator.
The real inventor of the vibrator was Joseph Mortimer Granville, and his invention was intended to be a medical device for men. Granville’s bulky, attachment-laden device was designed to increase “nervous strength” in men, a concept tied to general health improvement in a pre-antibiotic era with limited medical treatments. It was promoted as a cure-all, boosting blood flow and addressing conditions from impotence to various diseases. While it did prove somewhat effective for impotence, its broader claims were unfounded.
Marketed widely as a health device in the early 1900s, vibrator advertisements were surprisingly ubiquitous, appearing in publications ranging from Christian magazines to The New York Times and even department store catalogs. Despite this widespread marketing, the American Medical Association dismissed the vibrator industry as “a delusion and a snare” by 1905. This medical rejection forced vibrator companies to shift their strategy, marketing directly to consumers for a wide array of “medical” uses.
Ads promoted vibrators as cures for everything from “caked breast” and obesity to malaria and sciatica. These full-page ads, appearing in major newspapers like The New York Times and the Chicago Tribune, often sexualized everyday ailments. Advertisements featured suggestive imagery of women in low-cut dresses, sometimes holding vibrators to their stomachs with “come hither” looks, promising cures for “indigestion” and offering to “bring youth and vigor to the veins.” While suggestive and hinting at masturbation, these early ads avoided explicit sexual language. However, Lieberman believes it’s reasonable to assume that people were aware of the vibrator’s potential for sexual pleasure, even if it wasn’t overtly stated in advertising.
Explicit acknowledgement of the vibrator as a sex toy didn’t emerge until the 1970s. The Hitachi Magic Wand, a powerful vibrator still popular today, entered the market in the late 1960s, initially marketed as a back massager – even suggested as a Mother’s Day gift! Feminist sex educator Betty Dodson played a pivotal role in changing this perception. Dodson, teaching women about their bodies and orgasms in her New York City apartment, recognized the Magic Wand’s potential for female pleasure. She declared it the “best vibrator out there” and taught women how to use it for masturbation. Dodson’s advocacy led Eve’s Garden, the first feminist sex toy store, to feature the Magic Wand as its inaugural product in 1974, alongside Dodson’s book “Liberating Masturbation.” Feminist underground comics of the era even depicted women holding the Hitachi Magic Wand aloft, accompanied by slogans like “We shall overcome,” highlighting its significance in the feminist movement.
Despite the progress made, advertising restrictions for sex toys persist. Platforms like Facebook and Instagram still prohibit ads promoting “adult products” unless they relate to contraception or erectile dysfunction medications – a clear double standard. While companies are finding creative ways around these restrictions, the fight for open and destigmatized discussion around sex toys continues.
Lioness, a company co-founded by Liz Klinger and Anna Lee, is pushing boundaries with its “smart vibrator.” This device connects to a smartphone app, tracking arousal and orgasm patterns. Initially aiming to create an AI-powered vibrator, Lioness discovered a significant gap in research on female sexual function. For every seven research papers on male sexual function, only one addresses female sexuality, often focusing solely on fertility. This lack of data led Lioness to pivot, creating a tool to empower individuals to understand their own bodies and contribute to a growing database of knowledge about female pleasure.
The Lioness vibrator incorporates four sensors, measuring pelvic floor contractions, temperature, and movement. This data visualizes arousal and orgasm patterns within the app, helping users understand their unique responses. Pelvic floor activity, measured through force sensors, provides key insights into orgasm patterns, regardless of whether the device is used vaginally or anally. Research using Lioness data has identified three distinct orgasm patterns: the “ocean wave” (rhythmic contractions), the “avalanche” (decreasing intensity contractions), and the “volcano” (a sudden, intense peak). This data is expanding our scientific understanding of female orgasm diversity.
Recognizing user concerns about data privacy, Lioness prioritizes security. Data is anonymized, aggregated, and encrypted. Users only contribute individual data to research if they explicitly opt-in to specific studies, ensuring user control and ethical data practices.
Interestingly, Lioness has found a significant user base among women over 50. These users, experiencing post-pregnancy body changes, menopause, or simply rediscovering their sexuality, find the smart vibrator a valuable tool. Stories range from women experiencing their first orgasm in their 70s to groups of friends sharing and discussing their data, highlighting the lifelong relevance of sexual wellness.
The impact of Lioness extends beyond individual users. Artist Von transformed her Lioness data into music, creating a track called “Tiny Boy” from her arousal and orgasm patterns, showcasing the creative potential of this technology. Lioness is also contributing to medical research, presenting data at conferences and expanding the scientific understanding of female sexual pleasure.
For co-founder Anna Lee, Lioness has been a personal journey of self-discovery. Initially hesitant to even say words like “clitoris” or “orgasm,” she has become a vocal advocate for sexual wellness. The data-driven approach of Lioness has empowered her and countless others to understand their bodies, communicate their needs, and embrace their sexuality. By demystifying female pleasure through data and research, Lioness and other innovators are helping to dismantle taboos and empower individuals on their journeys to sexual wellness.
