Are Young Men Having Less Sex?

Are Young Men Having Less Sex? The Data Says Yes.

You might find this surprising: In 2008, 19% of men aged 18-24 reported no sex in the past year. A decade later, that number jumped to over 28%. For those aged 18-30, inactivity rose from 14% to 23%.

This isn't just about celibacy; it's a broad retreat from partnered sex, with the average number of partners also falling. Intriguingly, this decline is more pronounced in young men, closing a historical gap where they were typically more active than women.

Why? Experts point to a perfect storm: the draining dynamics of dating apps, the easy substitute of digital pornography, rising social anxiety, and shifting priorities. This trend is more than statistics; it signals a profound shift in how a generation forms intimate connections.

In my researcher's mind, a persistent alarm is sounding, triggered by the stark data on declining sexual activity among young men. It’s a trend that demands an explanation: why is this happening? After delving into academic journals, engaging in candid conversations with young men, and reflecting on my own experiences, I’ve identified four interconnected factors that I believe are central to understanding the numbers we see.

The first, and most frequently cited, is the pervasive rise of the digital world. This operates on multiple fronts. Consider pornography, now more accessible than ever before. For some men, it provides a convenient sexual outlet that effectively replaces the complex, often daunting, process of seeking a real-life partner. It requires minimal social effort, carries absolutely no risk of rejection, and offers a consistently high-stimulus experience. Alongside this, dating apps like Tinder, Hinge, and Bumble, while designed for connection, often create a market-like environment that can be profoundly stressful and demoralizing. The data is clear: men, on average, receive far fewer matches and likes than women, a dynamic that can systematically erode confidence and lead to feelings of inadequacy. When compounded by the immense amount of time spent on video games and social media, which displaces the energy required for in-person socializing, we see a powerful trifecta of digital pressures steering young men away from physical intimacy.

The second factor is the heavy weight of contemporary economic and social pressures. Financial instability uniquely plagues younger millennials and Gen Z. The crushing burden of student debt, coupled with soaring housing costs and a competitive job market, makes young people feel profoundly financially insecure. This economic precarity directly delays traditional milestones of adulthood, moving out, achieving financial independence, and considering marriage, all of which are historically linked to stable sexual relationships. Furthermore, the rising trend of young adults living with their parents into their late twenties creates an environment that is often not conducive to a thriving, private sex life, further complicating the path to intimacy.

Third, and perhaps more surprising, are the significant psychological and cultural shifts taking place. We are witnessing a documented rise in mental health issues, with social anxiety acting as a particularly potent barrier to forming intimate connections. Concurrently, young people are increasingly prioritizing education and career establishment before settling down, making casual sex seem less appealing or more logistically complicated. It’s also crucial to acknowledge a positive, if complicating, development: thanks to the efforts of previous generations, today's young men have been raised in an era of heightened awareness about sexual consent, STIs, and the potential emotional pitfalls of "hookup culture." While this education is vital and welcome, it may also have the unintended consequence of making some young men more cautious, anxious, or uncertain about initiating sexual encounters, for fear of missteps.

Finally, social psychologists point to a discernible decline in foundational social skills. As more interaction migrates online, young people have fewer opportunities to organically develop the nuanced, face-to-face communication and flirtation skills necessary to initiate romance. This deficit can create a vicious cycle: a lack of skill leads to awkward or unsuccessful interactions, which in turn fuels greater social anxiety and avoidance, making the prospect of pursuing relationships even more intimidating. Together, these four factors form a powerful explanation for the quiet retreat from intimacy we are observing.

Notice that I did not attribute this trend to a faith conversion or spiritual awakening. This was an intentional choice, as the data does not support that conclusion, even with the notable increase of young men in our churches. So, how then should the church engage with this topic in light of the actual evidence?

A trauma-informed approach is essential. The data doesn't depict a generation of pious celibates, but one often marked by loneliness, anxiety, and a deep-seated crisis of connection. When a young man walks through our doors, he is not just a soul to be saved; he is a person who may be carrying the weight of economic precarity, the sting of repeated digital rejections, and the quiet shame of feeling inadequate. The church must first be a sanctuary for this pain, embodying the call to “carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2), not a platform for simplistic solutions. Our response must be grounded in the compassion of Christ, who was “a man of suffering, and familiar with pain” (Isaiah 53:3), recognizing that these trends are symptoms of profound societal wounds.

The data provides a clear roadmap for ministry. First, we must become a counter-cultural community of genuine, embodied connection. In a world of digital isolation, the church can offer a rare space for low-stakes, face-to-face fellowship, reflecting the early church that devoted themselves to “the fellowship… and the breaking of bread” (Acts 2:42). This means intentionally creating intergenerational mentoring opportunities where older men can model the integrity of a Titus 2:6-8 lifestyle, and fostering small groups that are about shared purpose and friendship. We are called to heal the "skill deficit" by being a practice ground for community, where we “spur one another on toward love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24).

Second, we must directly address the crushing economic anxieties. The early church in Acts was renowned for its economic solidarity, ensuring “there were no needy persons among them” (Acts 4:34). Today, this could look like creating career networking groups, offering financial literacy courses tailored to young adults drowning in student debt, or simply being a community that affirms a man’s worth is rooted in being “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14), not in his salary.

Finally, we have a unique opportunity to reframe the conversation on sexuality from one of mere prohibition to one of holistic human flourishing. The gospel offers a vision for relationships that is neither the transactional marketplace of dating apps nor the isolating consumption of pornography, but the sacred, covenantal picture of “one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). We can teach on the theology of the body, the beauty of commitment, and the true strength found in the vulnerability Christ himself showed. By doing so, we address the "psychological shifts" not with more anxiety, but with the healing hope of a God who knows our longing for intimacy and offers a better way, promising that "with God all things are possible" (Matthew 19:26) for those seeking wholeness. The data is a call to action, an invitation for the church to become the deeply connected, supportive, and purpose-driven family that a disconnected generation is silently seeking.