Katherine Angel
British writer, academic, and essayist — one of the most important contemporary authors writing about consent, desire, and sexuality after #MeToo. In Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again, she shows that consent is a necessary minimum, but cannot by itself carry the entire politics of good sex, pleasure, and safety. Her work complicates the simple fantasy of “know what you want and say it clearly”: desire often emerges only in relation, the body is not always a reliable translator of its own states, and the demand for complete self-knowledge can shift responsibility for violence onto women and people at heightened risk of harm. Angel defends vulnerability, ambivalence, and not-knowing as part of erotic life — provided that uncertainty is held within relationships that do not weaponize it against the person.
Katherine Angel is a British writer, academic, and essayist whose work examines women’s desire, consent, sexuality, vulnerability, trauma, and the cultural demand for self-knowledge. Her major books — *Unmastered: A Book on Desire, Most Difficult to Tell* (2012), *Daddy Issues* (2019), and *Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again: Women and Desire in the Age of Consent* (2021) — form a coherent critical project directed against the belief that women’s sexual freedom depends above all on clearly knowing and assertively expressing what they want. Angel does not reject consent. On the contrary, she treats it as a necessary ethical and legal minimum. Her intervention lies elsewhere: she shows that consent cannot carry the entire politics of good sex, safety, pleasure, and justice. A culture that demands complete self-knowledge, confidence, and unambiguous declarations of desire from women may inadvertently reproduce the structure of violence by shifting responsibility for risk, harm, and inequality from culture onto the individual. ### Introduction: The Body Does Not Always Know Angel’s central question is this: why are women expected to know their own desires before entering the very experience that may be necessary for those desires to emerge? The question is provocative, but it does not relativize sexual violence. Angel is not arguing that because desire can be unclear, consent is unnecessary. Her argument is that consent is too narrow a tool if it is expected simultaneously to distinguish violence from nonviolence, guarantee pleasure, produce equality, and protect everyone from ambivalence. In her account, desire does not lie fully formed inside the subject like an object waiting to be discovered and named. It often comes into being only through relation, time, touch, imagination, risk, and uncertainty. The body does not always know in advance what it wants. And when a body has been taught shame, guilt, fear, subordination, or distrust of its own responses, the demand for immediate self-knowledge can become another instrument of oppression. ### Intellectual Biography Katherine Angel studied philosophy and completed a doctorate at the University of Cambridge on the history of psychiatry and sexuality. This academic background matters because her essays bring together the history of science, psychoanalysis, sexology, feminist theory, literature, and personal experience. Angel writes at the boundary between essay, theory, and literary meditation. She is not interested in purely academic classifications of sexuality. What interests her is the point at which scientific language, law, feminism, medicine, and popular culture attempt to tell women what their desire is — and how they should know it, articulate it, and manage its risks. ### *Unmastered* Angel’s first book, **Unmastered: A Book on Desire, Most Difficult to Tell**, was published in 2012. It is a hybrid autobiographical and essayistic text about women’s desire, writing, shame, heterosexuality, feminist reading, and the difficulty of saying what one wants. The title’s “unmastered” — uncontrolled, untamed, not fully mastered — anticipates Angel’s entire project. Desire is not presented as a stable property of the subject. It is uncertain, ambivalent, and partly opaque. It requires language, yet language is never enough. Angel writes against the fantasy of complete mastery over the self. ### *Daddy Issues* In **Daddy Issues**, Angel examines the figures of father and daughter, aging, dependency, and cultural fantasies of femininity. The essay concerns more than a private family relationship. It addresses a broader structure: how patriarchal culture organizes ideas about women’s desire, maturity, power, and vulnerability. The book develops a concern that later returns in *Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again*: women’s sexuality is continually interpreted through other people’s narratives. A father, a male partner, a doctor, a court, an advice manual, feminist counsel, and therapeutic culture may all claim, in different ways, the authority to tell a woman who she is, what she wants, and how she should understand her own experience. ### *Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again* Angel’s most important book is **Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again: Women and Desire in the Age of Consent**. Its title refers to Michel Foucault’s ironic promise in *The History of Sexuality*: that after liberation and simply affirming sex, sex will finally become good. Angel shows that consent and the articulation of desire do not in themselves abolish power. The book consists of four connected essays on consent, desire, scientific research into women’s sexuality, and confidence culture. Its central aim is to challenge a model in which safety, pleasure, and feminist agency depend on whether a woman can clearly state what she wants. ### Consent as a Minimum Angel is explicit that consent is necessary. It is a minimum ethical and legal condition. Without consent, there can be no sex free from violence. The problem begins when consent is burdened with tasks it cannot perform. Consent can help distinguish violence from nonviolence in a legal sense. It cannot by itself create good sex, equality, mutual curiosity, emotional safety, or equitable access to pleasure. Consent answers one question: is this allowed? It cannot adequately answer: was it good, mutual, safe, attentive, pleasurable, fair, or non-humiliating? ### Critique of Affirmative Consent Angel pays particular attention to the model of **affirmative consent**: consent that is clear, positive, voluntary, and ongoing throughout sexual contact. This model emerged in response to real violence and to the very real limitations of the principle that “no means no.” Angel acknowledges its political function while also examining its limits. Affirmative consent assumes that a person knows what she wants before she says it. It assumes that desire can be translated into a legible statement. Yet sex often involves ambivalence, hesitation, curiosity, fear, changing one’s mind, discovery, delay, and uncertainty. Not everything that matters can be settled in advance. Angel does not critique consent in order to weaken it. She critiques its inflation — the point at which consent becomes a substitute solution for much deeper problems: male violence, gender inequality, shame, rape culture, fear of women’s desire, and the absence of a language for “bad sex.” ### Relational Desire One of Angel’s most important concepts is **relational desire**. Desire is not a fully autonomous internal fact. It does not always exist before an encounter. Sometimes it emerges only through interaction: in the way someone looks, touches, speaks, waits, responds, invites, or withdraws. This is an important shift. Consent culture often treats desire as something that must be known before sex. Angel shows that part of pleasure may lie precisely in discovering what one did not already know. Erotic life requires room for surprise. ### Emergent Desire Closely connected to relational desire is the idea of **emergent desire**. Angel shows that “I want” may appear only after some time, through a process, a change of mood, a new sense of trust, or an unexpected experience. Likewise, “I don’t want this” may emerge later, even if there was a “yes” before. This does not mean that boundaries do not matter. It means that boundaries and desires are temporal, alive, and capable of change. An ethical model of sex must be able to accommodate change rather than demanding a single stable statement at the beginning. ### Self-Knowledge as a Condition Angel critiques the cultural demand for **self-knowledge as a condition of safety**. Under this model, a woman is expected to know her own desires, articulate them clearly, recognize her boundaries, and respond early enough. If she does not, her uncertainty may be used against her. This is at the heart of Angel’s critique. The demand for self-knowledge can become a mechanism of blame. If a woman did not know what she wanted, why did she consent? If she consented, why does she later say it felt wrong? If she wanted sex, why is she making an accusation? If she did not want it, why did she not say so clearly enough? Angel shows that this logic does not resolve violence. It disciplines those who are exposed to it. ### Confidence Culture Angel connects consent culture to the broader phenomenon of **confidence culture**. This is a current within neoliberal feminism that tells women: be bold, assertive, know your desires, express them, negotiate, set boundaries, speak clearly. At first glance, this sounds emancipatory. The problem is that such language can easily transfer responsibility onto the individual. If a woman is harmed, it becomes possible to suggest that she lacked confidence, knowledge, clarity, assertiveness training, or adequate management of her own boundaries. Angel does not reject assertiveness. She rejects the belief that assertive self-knowledge can substitute for transforming sexual culture. ### Vulnerability One of Angel’s most important concepts is **vulnerability**. It does not mean weakness, naivety, or an absence of protection. It is a basic structure of sexuality and relationality. For desire to emerge, a person must remain open, to some degree, to what is not yet known. Angel defends vulnerability against a culture of hardness. The answer to violence against women cannot consist solely in making women less vulnerable to harm. Such a project can produce closure, control, permanent vigilance, and loss of access to pleasure. This is a delicate point. Angel is not saying that vulnerability is safe. She is saying that pleasure becomes difficult to imagine without it. Sex involves risk, but that risk should be shared, acknowledged, and held with care rather than transferred onto one person. ### Porosity In **Unmastered** and later texts, Angel also develops an account of **porosity**. Porosity means being susceptible to another person’s influence: being touched, changed, moved, surprised. In a culture that values autonomy, self-control, and boundaries, porosity can appear threatening. Angel shows, however, that erotic life requires a degree of porosity. Desire cannot be experienced solely from the position of a sealed, self-sufficient subject. The other person is not merely someone who carries out a previously established script. They can participate in creating the situation through which we discover what we feel. ### Ambivalence **Ambivalence** is one of the central states that consent culture struggles to accommodate. Legal and administrative models require determinations: yes or no, consent or no consent, permitted or forbidden. Sexual experience often operates differently. Between yes and no lies a space of “I don’t know,” “maybe,” “not yet,” “I think so,” “let’s see,” “yes, but differently,” “I wanted it at first, then I didn’t.” Angel does not propose that law replace consent with ambivalence. Her point is that sexual life is broader than legal instruments. If culture teaches us that only clarity deserves recognition and protection, ambivalent people are left alone with their experience. ### “Bad Sex” as a Political Problem Angel insists that **bad sex** is a political problem. Sex can be consensual and still be painful, humiliating, one-sided, unpleasant, deeply unequal, or leave a person with a sense of having been violated. Not all bad sex is rape, but that does not make it a private triviality without political significance. This is one of Angel’s most important shifts. Culture often leaves us with only two categories: good sex or sexual violence. Angel shows that between them lies an enormous field of experience in which inequalities of access to pleasure, autonomy, safety, and self-determination become visible. Bad sex is not simply a matter of incompatibility. It can be a symptom of a culture that recognizes male desire more readily, excuses male pressure more easily, and more often makes women responsible for the comfort of everyone involved. ### The Body as an Unreliable Translator Angel draws on sexological research that complicates the common image of the body as a direct indicator of desire. Physical arousal does not always mean “I want this.” Lack of arousal does not always mean “I don’t want this.” Orgasm is not proof of consent. Lack of orgasm is not proof of the absence of desire. This matters enormously for thinking about trauma, shame, and violence. The body can react in ways that conflict with what a person understands, feels, or accepts. Angel shows that trusting the body requires a more complex language than the simple injunction to “listen to your body.” The body speaks, but it speaks in a language shaped by history, culture, fear, pleasure, habit, and power. ### Masturbation and Self-Learning Angel also complicates the idea of masturbation as a pure laboratory of one’s own desire. Self-touch can be an important site for learning about the body, but it does not exist outside culture. Even when we are alone, we touch a body shaped by shame, pornographic conventions, the absence of sex education, fear of judgment, and norms surrounding women’s pleasure. Sexual self-knowledge is therefore not a simple task of introspection. It is not enough to “find out what I like,” because what we like may already have been shaped by a culture that distributes the right to pleasure unequally. ### Boundaries as Strategy Angel proposes an important shift in how we think about boundaries. A boundary is not always an ontological truth about the self that must be discovered and named once and for all. It is often a strategy of safety: a way of protecting oneself from harm, particularly in a world that is not always trustworthy. This does not make boundaries less important. On the contrary, they are necessary. But Angel warns against confusing a protective strategy with the final truth of the subject. If boundaries become a fixed truth about identity, we may lose sight of the fact that desires and needs change within relationships. ### Safety as a Condition for Discovery Angel shifts the question from “do you know where your boundary is?” to “do you have the conditions in which you can discover it without fear?” This is a radical change. The aim is not to demand ever more perfect self-control from people exposed to violence. It is to create relationships and cultures in which uncertainty is not immediately used against them. Safety does not consist solely in being able to say “no.” It also means that “I don’t know,” “slower,” “differently,” “let’s stop,” or “I changed my mind” can be heard without punishment, shame, or anger. ### Trauma and Self-Knowledge Angel’s thought is particularly important in the context of trauma. People who have experienced violence often do not have straightforward access to their own “I want” and “I don’t want.” Their bodies may respond through freezing, dissociation, automatic adaptation, arousal without desire, or consent produced by fear. Demanding perfect self-knowledge from such people adds another layer of violence. Angel makes it possible to say: the problem was not that the person failed to know herself well enough. The problem is a culture that makes protection conditional on a degree of clarity many people cannot possess in moments of threat. ### Sexological Research Angel draws on research into women’s sexuality, including the work of Rosemary Basson, Marta Meana, and Lori Brotto. These studies matter to her because they complicate a linear model of sexuality: desire → arousal → sex → orgasm. In many women’s experiences, arousal and desire do not follow such a simple sequence. Basson’s model emphasizes the nonlinearity of women’s sexual response. Desire may be responsive, emerging only after arousal has begun or within a relational context. Meana and Brotto, meanwhile, point to discrepancies between physical arousal and the subjective sense of wanting. Angel uses this research carefully: not to biologize women, but to challenge a falsely neutral model of desire as clear, stable, and ready to be articulated. ### Interpretive Risks The greatest risk in reading Angel is using her work against consent. That would be a mistake and a misuse. Angel does not say that consent is unimportant. She says that it is minimal. Her work cannot be used as an argument by perpetrators of violence who might say: if desire is unclear, then I did not have to listen. A second risk is romanticizing uncertainty. Not-knowing can be part of erotic pleasure only when there is sufficient safety. For people especially exposed to violence — women, queer people, trans people, racialized people, disabled people, and those who are economically dependent — vulnerability is not an abstract adventure. It can be a real danger. A third risk is confusing the relational character of desire with passivity. Angel does not argue that we should abandon self-knowledge. She argues that self-knowledge must not become a condition of safety or a measure of someone’s feminist worth. ### Significance for the Theory of Sexuality Katherine Angel’s significance lies in the precision with which she names the violence hidden within an apparently emancipatory demand: “know what you want and say it clearly.” This demand can be useful in many situations, but as a universal sexual ethic it is too narrow. It cannot accommodate ambivalence, trauma, shame, changing one’s mind, relationality, or the discovery of desire only through experience. Angel shifts thinking about sex away from declaration alone and toward the conditions under which declaration can become honest, audible, and safe in the first place. She asks what it would mean to build a culture that does not require women to be hard, certain, and perfectly transparent to themselves in order to deserve protection. ### Key Concepts **Consent as a minimum** — consent is a necessary ethical and legal condition, but it is insufficient for creating good sex, equality, or pleasure. **Affirmative consent** — a model of clear, positive, ongoing consent; Angel examines both its political necessity and its limitations. **Relational desire** — desire that does not fully exist before a relationship or encounter, but emerges through interaction, time, and situation. **Emergent desire** — desire that comes into being during experience and is not always available to prior self-knowledge. **Self-knowledge as a condition** — the cultural demand that women know and articulate their desires as a condition of safety and recognition. **Confidence culture** — a culture of self-confidence that presents assertive self-knowledge as a solution to violence, thereby shifting responsibility onto the individual. **Vulnerability** — an irreducible susceptibility to harm, but also a condition for discovering pleasure, risk, change, and relationality. **Porosity** — the capacity to be moved and changed by another person; an erotic openness to influence. **Ambivalence** — a state between yes and no that consent culture often struggles to accommodate. **Bad sex as a political problem** — consensual sex can still be humiliating, painful, unequal, and politically significant. **The body as an unreliable translator** — the body does not always translate desire into a clear signal; arousal, orgasm, or their absence are not unambiguous evidence of wanting. ### Key Publications | Year | Title | Significance | |---|---|---| | 2012 | *Unmastered: A Book on Desire, Most Difficult to Tell* | Hybrid book on women’s desire, shame, writing, feminist reading, and the unmastered quality of sexuality. | | 2019 | *Daddy Issues* | Essay on fatherhood, femininity, aging, power, and cultural fantasies surrounding the father–daughter relationship. | | 2021 | *Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again: Women and Desire in the Age of Consent* | Angel’s major book on consent, desire, self-knowledge, vulnerability, and the politics of “bad sex.” | | 2021 | *On Vulnerability* | Essay / book excerpt published in *Granta*, synthesizing her thinking on vulnerability, not-knowing, and desire. | ### Significance Katherine Angel is one of the most important contemporary writers on consent, women’s desire, and the politics of sexuality after #MeToo. Her work moves beyond the false choice between moralism and sexual libertarianism. The issue is not whether consent matters. The issue is that consent is insufficient as an entire theory of sex. Angel’s most important contribution is her defense of not-knowing as part of erotic life. Not-knowing is neither a fault, a weakness, nor a failure of feminist consciousness. It can be a condition for discovering desire — provided there are relationships and cultures that do not weaponize uncertainty against the person experiencing it. Angel teaches us to speak about sex without the fantasy of complete clarity. A good sexual life is not produced through assertive declarations alone. It requires curiosity, patience, openness to change, recognition of ambivalence, the right to withdraw, and shared responsibility for the conditions in which desire can begin to emerge.