Netflix and Chill: Teaching Sexual Scripts in a Sociology Classroom

Abstract

Whereas most sociologists consider sexuality a social construct, the general public tends to view it in more essentialist terms. This tendency is commonly manifested in the idea of sexual drives as internal overpowering biological forces guiding human sexual behavior. To counter this narrative, sociologists William Simon and John H. Gagnon introduced a concept of sexual scripts to demonstrate the social underpinnings of sexuality and the narratives surrounding it. Drawing on their insights, I used the popular phenomenon of “Netflix and Chill” to teach students about the socially constructed nature of human sexuality. During class time, I ask students to put together a sexual script—step-by-step instructions—on how to successfully complete Netflix and Chill. This activity teaches students about the learned aspects of our sexual behavior and is effective both for in-person and online learning environments.

Keywords

sexual scripts social construction teaching sexuality

Talking about sex with students in college remains a challenge. Because many schools do not offer comprehensive sex education curriculum, young people often enter college unprepared to openly discuss issues pertaining to human sexuality (Kendall 2012). Similarly, parents and other family members are often unreliable sources of information about sex and sexuality due to their own limited knowledge or awkwardness (Byers, Sears, and Weaver 2008; Morawska et al. 2015). As such, young people have to look elsewhere to find resources on sexuality, including television, the Internet, social media, and pornography. Drawing on these resources, they learn what to do and how to be sexual, a process that is rarely clear or obvious to them. Many people tend to view sexuality in more essentialist terms, imagining that a powerful yet unspecified inner force (often conceptualized as a sexual drive) controls human sexual behavior (Plummer 1982). This sexual drive is often perceived as overwhelming and in need of external control, especially in the case of young people (Schalet 2011).

In part to counter this narrative, Simon and Gagnon (1984) introduced a concept of sexual scripts to demonstrate the social underpinnings of sexuality. Drawing on their insights, I use the popular phenomenon of “Netflix and Chill”—a euphemism for inviting a romantic interest to one’s house for physical intimacy under the pretext of watching a movie together—to teach students about the socially constructed nature of human sexuality. During class time, I ask students to put together a sexual script—step-by-step instructions—on how to successfully complete Netflix and Chill. This activity teaches students that most sexual activity is scripted and must be learned. Furthermore, it demonstrates that every culture instructs its members on when, where, how, and with whom it is appropriate to engage in sexual activity (Ghaziani 2017).

As previous studies have shown, students learn better through active rather than passive engagement with the material (Freeman et al. 2014; Prince 2004). Due to its subject matter and the cultural norms surrounding it, sexuality content does not lend itself well to experiential learning. More generally, teaching sexuality in an undergraduate college classroom can be fraught with tension, especially for students who may feel hesitant to discuss sexuality or disclose details of their own sexual histories (Allen 2009; Rosenbloom and Fetner 2001). However, through thoughtful selection of course materials, structured discussions, and an opportunity to find commonalities with other students (Davis 2005), the instructor can create a comfortable and safe environment for learning about sexuality. The Netflix and Chill activity provides students with a hands-on experience that draws on these best teaching practices. By putting together sexual scripts and discussing them with classmates, students develop an understanding that their own knowledge about sexuality and sexual practices has common social roots. Furthermore, by examining sexual scripts that are less familiar to them and do not reflect their own intersecting identities, they gain awareness of the multiplicity of sexual expressions and their socially constructed quality.

Social Construction of Sexuality

Sexuality scholars conceptualize sexuality as socially constructed, a product of social interactions (Seidman 2015; Weeks 1981), culture (Ghaziani 2017), and specific historical contexts (Foucault 1990; Katz 2007). Sexuality is created and maintained through social interactions and institutional arrangements, not an innate quality someone has at birth. For example, the widely recognized identity categories of gay or straight (alt. homosexual and heterosexual) are a relatively recent social invention. Michel Foucault (1990) has argued that these categories, or the idea of sexuality more generally, evolved in part from the need to manage growing populations in nineteenth-century Western Europe. Coupled with the Christian practice of confession, which imbued sex acts and erotic feelings with moral meaning, and the burgeoning medical establishment (psychiatry in particular), sexuality emerged as distinct object worthy of examination and regulation. As a result, individual sex acts and erotic feelings became consolidated into sexual identities. Sexual intercourse was no longer a mere physical act but now determined a person’s identity (e.g., being gay, straight, bisexual, asexual, queer) based on the kind of sex, with whom it occurred, and where it happened.

Whereas Foucault’s (1990) work explored the structural factors that produced and sustained particular sexual categories, other scholars have focused on how people came to embody and live these different sexual identities (Halperin 2012; Ward 2015, 2020). Rather than being born, for example, as gay or straight, a person must learn how to consolidate one’s sexual feelings, behaviors, attractions, and fantasies into a culturally defined sexual identity. The process of sexual socialization starts early and continues throughout life. Already in preschool, teachers make children aware of the available sexual identities and their hierarchy through play and instruction (Gansen 2017). Similarly, parents make assumptions about their children’s (heterosexual) identities in early childhood and teach them covert and explicit lessons about sexual attraction and how they should express and act on those assumed attractions (Martin 2009). As people age, family, peers, media, and larger culture more generally continue to provide guidance on how, with whom, when, and where sexual activity should be accomplished (Ghaziani 2017).

Scholars have also examined the flexibility and endurance of sexual categories to demonstrate that sexuality is socially constructed. As both Tony Silva (2018) and Jane Ward (2015) documented, straight-identified men will often have sex or maintain sexual relations with other men without identifying as gay. To maintain their heterosexual status, they may frame their same-sex encounters as performing a favor to a friend in need or a way to avoid cheating on a spouse (Silva 2018). By eschewing gay identity, these men’s actions illustrate how the same sex acts such as oral sex or mutual masturbation can take on different meanings depending on the social context without shifting society’s overall sexual identity structure and hierarchy.

Sexual Scripts

Drawing on the social constructionist perspective, Simon and Gagnon (1984, 1986) argued that most sexual behavior is scripted rather than spontaneous. To successfully complete any sexual encounter, individuals have to follow a sequence of steps. For example, in a heteronormative script, touching comes before kissing, kissing comes before heavy petting, and oral sex occurs before penetrative intercourse. A person needs to complete each step before moving on to the next one in that culturally prescribed order. Not following the order may lead to conflict, embarrassment, and even termination of the sexual encounter. People learn sexual scripts by both interacting with others and from various social institutions such as family, schools, or media.

There are three types of sexual scripts: cultural, interpersonal, and intrapsychic (Simon and Gagnon 1984). Cultural scripts provide a set of expectations about what a particular culture deems appropriate for its members within a sexual arena. For example, the expectation in the United States is that men are always ready for sex and must take on the dominant role during the sexual encounter. Interpersonal scripts refer to the steps that guide sexual interaction between individuals. These scripts can be thought of as a translation of cultural scenarios into sexual practice, for instance, sequencing the behavior from alcohol “pregaming” and “hanging out” to foreplay and intercourse. Finally, the intrapsychic scripts determine an individual’s sexual motives that guide sexual behavior, for example, a man must have sex with many women to demonstrate his sexual prowess and conquest.

Although all sexual behavior is scripted, sexual scripts vary along people’s intersecting identities, demographic characteristics, and cultural backgrounds (Firth and Kitzinger 2001). Thus, a heterosexual, body-able black man may follow a different script compared to a queer-identified disabled white person. Researchers have examined sexual scripts for different subgroups, including African American heterosexual men (Bowleg et al. 2015), gay men (Hoppe 2011), heterosexual men and women (Masters et al. 2013; Montemurro and Riehman-Murphy 2019), college students (Reid, Elliott, and Webber 2011; Wade 2017), and sex workers and their clients (Järvinen and Henriksen 2018; Jones and Hannem 2018).

Finally, Simon and Gagnon (1984) noted that sexual scripts provide a scaffolding for sexual encounters that allows for some improvisation. People do not just passively act out the scripts but are “partial scriptwriters” actively involved in the creation process. Drawing on Simon and Gagnon’s work, the Netflix and Chill activity is a fitting vehicle for examining the social norms guiding people’s sexual behavior. Although it incorporates all three types of scripts, this activity primarily explores the interpersonal sexual scripts.

Teaching Sexual Scripting with Netflix and Chill

I have used the Netflix and Chill activity with my introduction to sociology students four times since spring 2019—twice in a face-to-face setting and twice in a synchronous online environment using Zoom. The number of participants in each class was between 15 and 30 students. For in-person meetings, this exercise can be easily adapted to larger classes by increasing the number of small discussion groups; however, for the online version, the ideal number of participants is no more than 25 students. The activity is designed for a 75-minute class period, but it can be adapted to fit a 50-minute session. Although I used the Netflix and Chill activity in my introduction to sociology classes, it can also be a part of upper-level sexuality courses, where it can serve as a springboard for further discussions and intellectual development during the subsequent class meetings.

I typically conduct this activity in the last third of the semester because the discussion of sex and sexuality remains difficult for many students. In doing so, I am able to establish a greater rapport with students and prepare them for the discussion format of the course (Davis 2005). By the time we arrive at the Netflix and Chill activity, the students have already had a chance to practice discussing other challenging topics such as race relations, religion, and money. Additionally, at the start of the semester, I host a “discussion about discussion” when we come up with a set of rules for having an effective dialogue during class time. I also tell students that they are not required to share their personal experiences to meaningfully contribute to class discussions. Nonetheless, some students may still not feel comfortable talking about sex and sexuality. I preface the activity by noting that although the activity might push some people out of their comfort zone, its goal is not to shock or offend. I make it clear that the activity’s purpose is to sociologically examine how human sexuality is socially constructed. Collectively, these strategies tend to put students at ease, and none of them have refused to participate in the activity.

Before the start of the activity, it is worth going over the basic terminology describing different body parts and sex acts, for example, penis, vagina, intercourse, oral sex, and anal sex, and instruct students to use these terms instead of relying on euphemism or derogatory terms often used in everyday language. Although this terminology might seem somewhat clinical, I follow this approach for three reasons. First, it minimizes the reliance on more biased language, which some students might find offensive. Second, one of my goals for this activity is to unpack the sexual component of Netflix and Chill and examine what specific sexual acts, for example, oral sex, intercourse, or nipple stimulation, are part of this encounter. With the use of terms like vagina or intercourse, I find it easier to investigate what happens (and does not happen) sexually. Third, the use of this common terminology allows for easier comparison between student-generated Netflix and Chill sexual scripts, especially when fewer groups are participating. At the same time, the instructor may adopt a different approach and allow students to talk about the sexual encounters in their own words. The use of euphemism, slang, and other everyday terms can serve as a discussion starter about the role of language and power dynamics in sexual scripting.

In preparation for this activity, I assign chapter one from Lisa Wade’s (2017) book, American Hookup: The New Culture of Sex on Campus, as homework. The chapter, titled “Hooking Up, a How-to,” outlines the step-by-step instructions for successfully completing a college hookup and is a textbook example of a sexual script. I draw on this reading in step five of the Netflix and Chill activity to examine the differences and similarities between the two sexual scripts.

Although this activity offers a great deal of flexibility, the instructor may want to set some parameters to keep it focused and manageable. First, the instructor may consider which types of sexual scripts they want students to complete. In my classes, despite the neutral assignment instructions, students typically end up developing sexual scripts for cisgender, heterosexual, college-age pairings because it might be the sexual script that is most familiar to them (over 90 percent of participants identified as straight). Concentrating on one type of sexual script allows comparisons across student groups and for patterns to emerge, especially if the class size is smaller. It does, however, obscure other types of sexual scripting. Thus, the instructor can assign different types of scripts to different student groups, which would allow for comparisons both within and across different kinds of sexual scripts and expose students to sexual scripts less familiar to them.

Second, the instructor should set the starting point of a sexual script. Because I want students to examine the sequence of sexual acts (e.g., kissing, heavy petting, nipple stimulation) rather than the dating script, I typically tell students that the Netflix and Chill participants have already met and that they are at someone’s residence. Without setting those constraints, I have found that some students will invest a great deal of time detailing the early meeting stages (e.g., how the people met, where they went to dinner, who paid for a meal) and skim over the sexual component of Netflix and Chill.

Activity’s Procedures

Step 1: Introducing the Activity

I introduce the activity by noting that sexuality is often perceived as an individual experience rather than a social one; however, sexual knowledge is largely culturally determined. To illustrate this point, the students will come up with a list of steps needed to successfully complete Netflix and Chill. Usually at this point, some students laugh nervously while others show signs of dread, such as shifting in their seats. I assuage their worries by noting that this activity is not meant to shock or embarrass anyone. Instead, its main goal is to highlight the social aspects of sexuality. To provide students with more detailed instructions, I ask them to imagine a foreign exchange student who is not familiar with our sexual culture. The exchange student was offered to participate in Netflix and Chill, but they do not know what it means or what they are supposed to do. It is now the students’ job to work together as a group to create a detailed sequence of steps that this foreign exchange student can follow to successfully complete Netflix and Chill.

Step 2: Dividing Students into Groups

After an introduction, I tell students to divide into groups of three to four people and begin their work. I leave it up to the students to form their own groups because it increases their comfort level; however, the instructor can organize the groups more strategically, for example, sorting by age or gender. In the Zoom classroom environment, I use the breakout room function to facilitate group work. I allow Zoom to randomly assign students into groups based on the group size, but Zoom also allows the instructor to manually assign participants into designated groups and gives participants an option to choose their own breakout room.

Step 3: Working in Groups

To guide students in the task of scripting Netflix and Chill, I provide each group with a worksheet containing five questions with extra space underneath each to record their answers. The five questions are: (1) As a group, define what “Netflix and Chill” is. (2) What are the steps to successfully completing Netflix and Chill? (3) In what physical location does Netflix and Chill take place? (4) How many people participate in Netflix and Chill? and (5) At what time of day does a typical Netflix and Chill take place? The last three questions are designed to guide students in thinking about the larger societal norms that regulate sexual behavior. The students complete one worksheet per group and have 15 to 20 minutes to accomplish this task. For the online sections, I use the Google document to deliver the worksheet to students (see the worksheet’s text in the Appendix). Using this tool, the students can easily edit the document in real time, and it is easier to share the information with the rest of the class if the group chooses to do so.

Step 4: Group Check-ins

As students are working on their sexual scripts, I walk around the classroom and check in with each group. The check-in ensures that students stay on task and provides an opportunity to gauge their progress and provide feedback. On Zoom, I take similar steps and check in on every breakout room one at a time. In both the in-person and online class sessions, most groups finish their scripts in 10 minutes or less. However, their step-by-step instructions for completing Netflix and Chill tend to be rather general, especially the steps describing sexual interaction. The following list is an actual student example of a typical sexual script: (1) invitation, (2) shower, (3) turn on Netflix, (4) pick a show, (5) have snacks (not to be eaten), (6) decide on a setting (couch or room), (7) start the show, (8) lean in for the cuddle, (9) make a move, (10) take off clothes, (11) foreplay, (12) sex, (13) clean up juices, (14) shirts and undies back on, (15) restart the show, (16) actually chill and snack, (17) go for time number two. As I interact with each group, I ask students to fill in the gaps in their sexual scripts. I ask them to specify, for example, what activities constitute foreplay and consider the order in which they occur. Similarly, I ask them to be specific about what they mean by sex or “making a move”; for example, does it involve touching hands, kissing, penile-vaginal intercourse, oral sex, or something else? Again, I ask them to think about the order in which these sexual acts are supposed to occur. After I check in with every group and give students time to revise their sexual scripts based on my feedback, we end group work and move on to the classwide discussion.

Step 5: Class Discussion of Sexual Scripts

I begin the class discussion by asking students how easy or difficult they found writing down these step-by-step instructions and why. These low-stakes questions ease students into talking within the larger class forum. Next, we define what Netflix and Chill is. I ask each group to report on their own definition. If the class size is larger, the instructor may call on just some portion of the groups. Unless students notice the pattern first, I ensure to point out that most of their definitions tend to be rather general about what actually happens sexually during Netflix and Chill. We discuss why that is and what function it plays. For example, we establish that definitional fuzziness makes it easier to brag about the (sexual) encounter afterward. We also compare the definitional vagueness of Netflix and Chill to the definition of a college hookup, which they read about in an excerpt from Lisa Wade’s (2017) American Hookup.

After defining Netflix and Chill, the class moves on to discussing sexual scripts. A volunteer member from each group states what type of script the group composed, explains how they decided on this particular pairing, and reads the prepared sexual script to the class. If the instructor senses that the students are sufficiently comfortable with each other, they might ask the students to make their responses available on Zoom using the screen-share function. After at least five groups present their work, I ask to hear from groups whose scripts are considerably different from the ones we already heard. Typically, one or no hands will go up. As a class, we consider if these differences constitute a considerable departure for other scripts presented in the class or if they just introduce an improvisational element. At this point, I also ask students to consider the emerging patterns and to examine how sexual activity is constructed within the context of Netflix and Chill. The questions in this part of the discussion may include: Is there a consistent order in doing Netflix and Chill? Do some sex activities like touching or kissing always come before the others? How much sexual improvisation do these scripts allow? Furthermore, we discuss how gender structures sexual scripts. For example, who initiates the first move? Do the partners exchange the lead depending on the sexual act, or does one partner tend to take charge during the entire sexual encounter? Similarly, the class discusses how sexual scripts may vary by age, race, immigrant status, social class, and body type of the Netflix and Chill participants. Finally, in my classes, the student groups are free to decide which sexual script they are going to work on, yet all of the groups settle on man/woman pairings. During the discussion, we consider why some sexual scripts might be more dominant than others and come up with possible explanations for this tendency.

In the next part of the discussion, we explore the learned nature of sexual scripts. I ask students to consider how it is possible that even though the students do not know each other well, all of them managed to come up with very similar step-by-step instructions for completing Netflix and Chill. Although students provide a variety of answers, I make sure that they understand that people have to learn how to be sexual with others through interactions with peers, family, schools, the medical establishment, pornography and erotica, other forms of media, and different social institutions. These social actors and institutions provide the sexual scripts that individuals can draw on when engaging in sexual activity with others. And as the namesake of the activity indicates, the Netflix streaming platform itself supplies numerous sexual scripts in its programming.

When constructing the Netflix and Chill sexual scripts, students tend to omit a few noteworthy steps. Some of these omissions became apparent during the class discussions, whereas others emerged from my systematic analysis of groups’ sexual scripts. First, the use of any protections against sexually transmitted infections (STIs) or pregnancy is rarely mentioned. Although this finding could be an artifact of my student sample, it is something to be mindful of when discussing sexual scripting, particularly because STIs continue to be on the rise (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention 2019). The absence of applying prophylactics as a step in the Netflix and Chill script is also an opportunity to discuss change within sexual scripting. Because sexual scripts are socially constructed, they can change over time. Thus, students can talk about why some components of sexual scripts endure while others change and what influence individuals have over the sexual scripts’ structure. Second, most of the sexual scripts in this sample did not include a discussion about consent as one of the steps. However, students often do include a step where the two people negotiate what movie or TV show they are going to watch. This omission deserves attention given the prevalence of sexual harassment in the workplace and the rise of the #MeToo movement. It offers an opportunity to address the specific place or places of consent within the sexual script. Third, almost all of the Netflix and Chill sexual scripts end with some type of sexual activity—typically intercourse or oral sex. The students tend not to elaborate on what happens after the last sex act of the script is completed. This finding can provide for a fruitful discussion about culturally sanctioned exit strategies within sexual encounters and what they tell us about our relationships with respect to gender and sexual role expectations. In this part of the discussion, I draw on the assigned reading, and the class compares the concluding steps of sexual scripts of Netflix and Chill with those of a college hookup.

To wrap up the discussion, I ask students to review what the scripting of Netflix and Chill teaches us about the expression of human sexuality. As students make their final remarks, I make sure that we hit a number of key takeaway points, including: (1) Most sexual activity is scripted and has to be learned; (2) people learn what to do sexually by interacting with others and with social institutions; (3) although sexual scripts provide a step-by-step instruction on what to do sexually, they do leave some room for improvisation; and (4) every culture teaches its members when, where, how, and with whom it is appropriate to engage in sexual activity.

Assessment

I conducted this activity at a public university located in the Midwest region of the United States. The university enrolls approximately 9,000 students, most of which are undergraduate (91 percent), attend full-time (56 percent), and reside within the state (79 percent). White, Hispanic/Latino, and black/African American students are the most populous racial and ethnic groups on campus (58 percent, 22 percent, and 10 percent, respectively), and women are the majority (58 percent).

Based on in-classroom comments, most students enjoy this activity a great deal. They note that it challenged them to think about sex and sexuality in a new way using what they already may know. As one of the students noted, “It was a bit awkward at the beginning talking to people about this [sex], but it really shows how uncreative we are when it comes to doing it.” In addition to students’ anecdotal comments, I assessed the activity’s pedagogical merits more systematically using a short survey—a paper version for the in-person classes and an electronic version for online instruction. With Instutitional Review Board approval, the students anonymously and voluntarily completed a pretest and a posttest, which reflected the main goals of the activity, namely, that human sexual activity is scripted, needs to be learned, and that a culture in which people live largely determines what they do sexually.

The first question assessed students’ understanding of the relationship between culture and sexual activity. It read, “On a scale of 1 to 7 where 1 is ‘not at all’ and 7 is ‘completely,’ to what extent does the social world around us influence what we do sexually?” For the second and third items, the students were presented with one statement each (“Most sexual activity is spontaneous” and “A person has to learn how to express oneself sexually”) and recorded their responses using the Likert 5-point scale. I employed a t test statistic to determine if the change from the pretest to the posttest was statistically significant. Additionally, I collected students’ demographic information, which included age, race, gender, sexual identity, and class rank.

Overall, 83 students were surveyed across four sections of introduction to sociology courses; 72 fully completed both the pretest and posttest. In the resulting sample, the majority were first-year students (80 percent) with an average age of 19 years old (age range = 18–39). Most of the students identified as either white (71 percent), mixed race (10 percent), Hispanic/Latnix (6 percent), or black/African-American (4 percent). The majority of the students were women (53 percent); 92 percent of the sample identified as heterosexual and 8 percent as bisexual.

I found significant improvements on all three measures within the entire sample. After completing the Netflix and Chill activity, students were more likely to respond that the outside world influences what people do sexually, t(142) = −4.87, p < .001. Similarly, most of them agreed that there is little spontaneity in sexual activity, t(142) = −4.73, p < .001, and that sexual expression has to be learned, t(142) = 2.69, p < .01. When analyzed by instruction-delivery type (i.e., in person vs. online), the findings remained mostly unchanged (see Table 1). Only responses to the question about the learned nature of sexual behavior in the online sections showed no significant improvement. This difference might be due in part to the relatively small sample (n = 23) and the novelty of Zoom as a teaching platform. Students might need some time to get used to interacting with classmates and the instructor via a conferencing software. Nonetheless, taken together, these results suggest that the Netflix and Chill activity is an effective tool in making students aware of the social basis of sexuality.

Table 1.

Pretest and Posttest Mean Comparisons for the Three Measures of Interest (N = 72).

Measures	In Person (n = 49)					Online (n = 23)
	Pretest		Posttest			Pretest		Posttest		t
	M	SD	M	SD	t	M	SD	M	SD	t
Social world around us influences what we do sexually	5.06	1.05	5.96	1.02	−4.30***	5.13	1.32	5.82	.89	−2.09*
Most sexual activity is spontaneous	2.71	.76	3.44	1.02	−4.03***	2.69	.76	3.39	.99	−2.67**
A person has to learn how to express oneself sexually	2.04	.82	1.67	.72	2.37*	1.91	.67	1.65	.71	1.28

p < .05. **p < .01. ***p < .001.

Additionally, I conducted a systematic analysis of student-generated sexual scripts to examine commonalities as well as any omissions. For the in-person sections, I collected the complete worksheets at the end of the class. For the online sections, I downloaded the Google documents that students used in their groups to record their responses. I coded each worksheet for the types of steps included, for example, selecting a movie or kissing, and I counted the total number of steps within each script. On average, the students’ sexual scripts contained 10 steps and ranged in length from 4 to 17. The findings regarding the commonalties and omissions were discussed in the section on teaching the Netflix and Chill activity.

Discussion and Conclusion

Established in 1997 as a postal movie rental business and transformed into a streaming service in 2007 (Netflix 2021), Netflix is a relatively recent addition to the media landscape. Yet as Netflix and Chill illustrates, it is firmly embedded in society’s cultural fabric. It has not only transformed the way people watch television, it also has become a part of people’s sexual lives (Pilipets 2019). As such, the Netflix and Chill activity becomes a vehicle for examining the socially constructed basis of sexuality. It showcases how cultural products and ideas are incorporated into people’s sexual practices. As the social landscape changes, individuals’ sexual expressions have also changed. Netflix and Chill is one example of that transformation. At the same time, this activity highlights the persistence of some social processes. Although the changing culture supplies people with new cultural products to utilize, individuals still have to learn how to be sexually active. By putting together sexual scripts, the students learn firsthand how sequential and unspontaneous sexual behavior is. They learn that sexual activity needs to be coordinated with others in interactions, which often can be awkward and discordant when people do not draw on the same sexual scripts.

The Netflix and Chill activity can also expose students to sexual cultures and scripts other than their own. The students may often default to the sexual scripts that are most familiar to them or that are most dominant, which in the United States tend to be heteronormative and centered on men. Although relying on learners’ prior knowledge is a solid point of departure, this activity can push students to explore sexual scripts beyond the familiar. It can be a window into the sexual lives and scripting practices of queer, bisexual, disabled, or asexual people whose experiences tend to be overlooked in mainstream culture. As such, this activity provides an opportunity to question why these more diverse sexual scrips do not widely enter the popular imagination and practices.

Overall, the activity succeeds in teaching students about sexual scripts, but it does possess some limitations. First, a lack of reliable Internet and privacy may prevent some students from participating in this activity. Successful online instruction is predicated on having resources and necessary equipment to dependently connect to the Internet, which in turn, are tied to social class, race, (dis)ability, and geographic location (Friedman et al. 2021). Furthermore, even with good Internet connectivity, some students may have to share space with roommates or family members and may not feel comfortable discussing issues related to sexuality in a presence of other people. Putting on headphones and using the “chat” function might mitigate some of these problems. Second, although this activity works well in person and in synchronous online environments, conducting it in an asynchronous course might be challenging. The instructor could potentially use discussion boards to facilitate the activity; however, depending on the type of learning management system available to the instructor, it might be difficult to facilitate group work where students collectively have to create a sexual script. Third, the online sections where I conducted this activity started off with in-person instruction and moved online in the seventh week of the semester due to the COVID–19 pandemic. As such, I had different opportunities to build rapport with students in these sections than if they met exclusively online for the entirety of the term. Thus, the assessment findings from the two online sections should be interpreted cautiously. Fourth, on the assessment survey, I only included quantitative items measuring students’ understanding of a relationship between culture and what people do sexually and demographic information. To assess the activity’s general appeal, I relied on informal conversations with students after class, which were overwhelming positive but could primarily reflect the experiences of the most vocal individuals. Finally, heterosexual students were overrepresented in my courses, with no persons identifying as either gay or lesbian. This is an artifact of the sample, which might have some bearing on survey assessment results.

Pedagogically, the Netflix and Chill activity introduces an active learning component to sexuality as a university classroom subject matter. By focusing on different types of sexual configurations, it offers flexibility to explore sexual scripting among differ population subgroups and intersectionalities. It also provides the instructor with flexibility to further explore or highlight different components of sexual scripts. For example, the class may spend more time discussing the language used to describe sexual acts and its implications for sexual practices. Similarly, the students may compare sexual scripts for men and women separately to document any commonalities and differences and relate their findings to issues of sexual harassment and rape. Lastly, the class can focus on the role and the place of consent within the sexual scripts. The students can discuss when and how frequently consent should feature within the sexual step-by-step.

I conducted this activity in introduction to sociology courses, which overwhelmingly tend to be populated by first-year students, many of whom are encountering sociological ideas and concepts for the first time. The Netflix and Chill activity offers them a structured way to examine sexuality through a social prism. It illustrates how sexual and gender identities often determine which sexual scripts people adopt and considers the potential for their change. Furthermore, when used in concert with other activities throughout the semester that incorporate a social constructionist perspective (Berkowitz, Manohar, and Tinkler 2010; Khanna and Harris 2009), Netflix and Chill can reinforce for students the learned aspects of people’s behaviors and attitudes across different social domains.

Footnotes

Appendix: Student Worksheet for Group Work on Sexual Scripts

Instructions: Imagine a foreign exchange student who is not familiar with our sexual culture. The exchange student was offered to participate in “Netflix and Chill,” but they do not know what it means or what they are supposed to do. Work together as a group to create a detailed sequence of steps that this foreign exchange student can follow to successfully complete “Netflix and Chill.”

As a group, 1) define what “Netflix and Chill” is; 2) write down the steps needed to successfully complete “Netflix and Chill.” Note: your “Netflix and Chill” participants have already met, and they are already at someone’s residence.

Additionally, when thinking about “Netflix and Chill” consider the following:

Acknowledgements

First, I would like to thank all the students in my introduction to sociology classes. Second, thank you to Michael A. Young for his feedback on the earlier drafts of this article. Similarly, I want to extend my thanks to Mary Werden for her mad editing skills. Finally, thank you to the Editor and the three anonymous reviewers for their help in making this work better.

Editor’s Note

Reviewers for this manuscript were, in alphabetical order, Stephanie Medley-Rath, Kristjane Nordmeyer, and Alexandra Nowakowski.

ORCID iD

Hubert Izienicki

Author Biography

Hubert Izienicki is an assistant professor of sociology in the Department of Behavioral Sciences at Purdue University Northwest. His teaching and research interests lie at the intersection of sexuality, gender, immigration, and identity.

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