The failings of Luxembourgish sex education and why we need to fix them

Written By Ella Chambers

perspectives from our feminist past

© Tullio Saba

If, like me, you got the traditional Luxembourgish sex ed treatment, you learned a whole lot about the way sperm cells are produced but not so much about consent and pleasure. You also learned nothing about the social and political context which we live in, and how it impacts our sexuality and relationships. This problem often leads to devastating consequences and has been known to queer feminists and sex educators for years and years. It is high time we change this and, while we’re at it, society as a whole, as I will explain in this article.

I want to begin by introducing you to a Luxembourgish legend very few young people know about: Dr Marie-Paule Molitor-Peffer (1929-1999). She became a gynaecologist in 1958 at a time when it was still not that usual for women to access higher education. Then, between 1981 and 1992 she served as the president of Luxembourg’s Planning Familial. In this role, she fought for modern sex education, access to contraception and legal abortions, and against gender-based violence and the sexual abuse of children. She wrote and published a multitude of articles, opinion pieces, editorial letters, and gave interviews.

© Will House

Starting in 1979, she was also part of a sex education show on RTL Radio called Léift a Partnerschaft (Love and Partnership). Beyond the anatomical and biological dimensions, she addressed social analyses. She was especially critical of the capitalist system and discussed the impacts of religion on sex and sexuality. This made her a controversial figure amongst Luxembourgish Catholics and male doctors who had an issue with her work at Planning Familial. Despite those enemies, she advocated for every person to have the freedom to live out their sexuality as they see fit, including queer people, young and old people, and disabled people. This does not mean, however, that she uncritically insisted on free sexuality in a neoliberal-girlboss-choice feminism kind of way (I will explain those perspectives and their flaws a little further down).

In an 1977 article, Molitor Peffer argues:

“Indeed, if sexuality seems to have become socially free, this does not mean that it is, for each and every one of us, free of all constraints. But if sexuality is to be personally meaningful, not just free, but liberated, it must refuse to be in service of anything other than interpersonal exchange.” (my translation from the French)

How fascinating that this distinction between ‘free’ (‘libre’) and ‘liberated’ (‘libérée’) sexuality remains an important topic within feminist discourse almost 50 years later. Molitor-Peffer writes of social change which has toppled old taboos, only for new ones to take their place. Now, excessive demands of productivity and consumption govern our sexuality, she argues in 1982. These are the exact talking points which still circulate within the feminist movement today. Ideas of sex positivity and its toxic dark side have an established place within the current discourse, as do neoliberal capitalist influences and the pressure they create to have as much great sex with as many of the hottest people as possible.

Molitor-Peffer © Fraendag

It was Katherine Angel who in her 2021 book Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again argues that liberal feminism’s approach to sex positivity does not take structural inequalities into consideration. It makes sexual issues seem like individual problems that can be solved through a change in attitude. It is true that, in theory, there has never been more freedom to design our sex lives as we want them to be. And yet, deeply embedded social and legal norms ensure that our choices are never entirely our own. Speaking primarily of cis-heterosexual dynamics, Angel points out that sex is a significantly riskier endeavour for women. They could end up pregnant, or slut-shamed. They disproportionately face sexual difficulties, pain and anxiety, and are disproportionately affected by sexual violence. And they cannot count on the justice system or even the people in their social environment to protect them.

In short, under the patriarchy, for women more so than men, sex can be used against them. Be it to hurt them, attach harmful reputations to them, or to use their bodies for one-sided pleasure. And yet, we place the burden of overcoming these structural problems on individual women. We tell them to be more confident and more assertive, to know what they want and demand it from their sexual partners. Through this, we place the responsibility for bad and hurtful experiences on victims. As if centuries of patriarchal violence and oppression can be overcome by simply being more confident… Sex and sexuality can only ever be truly liberated if we look beyond the symptoms and address the problem. We have to deconstruct these harmful power structures which hurt us all. But how?

Leudelange. The ‘Rue Eich’ and ‘Rue de Cessange’ were temporarily renamed ‘Rue Hélène Entenich-Wivenes’ and ‘Rue Dr Marie-Paule Molitor-Peffer’ as part of the ‘Displaying Equality’ project, a symbolic action organised by the Luxembourg National Council of Women to mark International Women's Day 2024.

Like Molitor-Peffer, I see sex education as one of the crucial instruments we have to use to bring about this structural change we so desperately need. To be exact, we need a sex education which is introspective and counteracts discrimination and injustice. A sex education which normalises sexual, romantic and gender diversity, which is not only aware of racist, ableist and classist oppressions in the realm of sexuality and beyond, but works to end them. In this way, as Mar Venegas  argues, sex education should be understood as a key part of our political education. As we know from the present situation, laws and policing are not very effective at stopping sexual, gender-based and racial violence. That is why education is essential. If we want the coming generations to do better than us, we need to equip them with the tools to do so.

© Randen Pederson

How is Luxembourg doing in that regard?

Not that well. In 2015, Jonathan Zimmerman very ambitiously set out to write a global history of sex education. In it, he notes that even countries which embrace “liberal” attitudes towards sex and sexuality (and what is Luxembourg if not “liberal”) often provide little to no actual sexual instruction in their schools. Even when it is included in official curricula, initiative and responsibility are left to individual teachers. The SAFE Project report from 2006 found that in Luxembourg, the result is a “patchy and inadequate” sex education. Little has changed in the past 20 years. Anne Schaaf’s 2020 article Der Storch hat ausgedient (The stork has had its day) shows that although a variety of material and workshops have been developed, it is still up to individual teachers and their personal priorities whether children will have access to them or not. But why, if people like Molitor-Peffer have been demanding meaningful progress since the 70s?

© janwillemsen 

One factor, I believe, is Luxembourg’s general disconnect from political action. Very few young people know that Luxembourg has quite a rich history of feminist and social justice resistance. For a concise and accessible summary, I recommend episode 138 - Vu Walrecht, Hausbesetzungen an neie Beweegungen – Feminismus zu Lëtzebuerg of the Luxembourgish Méi Wéi Sex (More Than Sex) podcast. From an all-women feminist political party to a squatting initiative to address the lack of women’s shelters, our feminist ancestors were anything but inactive. Molitor-Peffer was also already doing in the 70s what the Méi Wéi Sex podcast was created for in 2018: educating the people of Luxembourg about their sexual rights.

So why is this history talked about so little and never even mentioned in school curricula? Why is there no awareness amongst the general public that the rights we enjoy today were not always already a reality? That they are the result of years and years of political struggle? Beyond a depoliticised population, the speakers from the Méi Wéi Sex episode, Robin and Ada, also observe a significant lack of continuity in the movements that do come up. New groups and collectives form all the time and then become inactive only for new ones to take their place. There is no sense of building on the work and achievements of the past, we all think we have to reinvent the wheel. Because nobody told us about the roots grown by those who came before us. Nobody taught us about our national history and the importance of the struggle for social justice.

Whether it’s the fight for a truly liberated sexuality or any other cause, trying to stand up for what we believe in can be scary and feel very isolating. That is why we need to provide young people with the tools and confidence to do so. It is also why it’s important to remember that your fight is but a continuation of those who have fought before you. When you speak up, you are backed by the voices of a whole history’s worth of people who are on your side. Don’t let their visions of social justice die with them. Let’s make sure there is continuity.

The sweet and insinuating education by a saint (1700-39) © 2005-2025 Look and Learn

“To be exact, we need a sex education which is introspective and counteracts discrimination and injustice. A sex education which normalises sexual, romantic and gender diversity, which is not only aware of racist, ableist and classist oppressions in the realm of sexuality and beyond, but works to end them.”
— Ella Chambers

Sources:

Ella Chambers
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