Let me tell you the story of the sex raft.
Back in 1973, anthropologist Santiago Genovés conducted an astonishing social experiment. He picked a crew of men and women to pilot a custom-built raft through the Atlantic Ocean for months, beginning in Spain’s Canary Islands and ending in Mexico. Genovés sought nothing less than an understanding of fundamental human conflict, with the hopes of advancing world peace.
And goodness gracious, did he have hypotheses about what would happen.
The Guardian newspaper reported an array of his deranged thoughts: “Most conflicts are about sexual access to ovulating females.” “I believe that in a dangerous situation people will act on their instincts, and I will be able to study them.” “Maybe men will become more frustrated when women are in charge, and try to take over power.”
Genovés approached the mission with all the misguided confidence of politicos in the Kansas Statehouse and Washington, D.C.
Like him, these power-hungry men believe they can manipulate and persuade members of the public into being their willing dupes. Like him, they believe they can avoid negative consequences while reaping personal benefits. Also like him, I believe they’re going to end up sorely disappointed.
To make a dramatic story short, none of Genovés’ predictions proved correct. Those on the raft, named the Acali, got along perfectly well. Crew members did have some sex, but they generally focused on survival and working together.
This infuriated the researcher, who regularly tried to stir up drama on board, at one point firing the woman he had chosen as captain.
He wrote in a journal: “I can tell that violence is present deep down in their unconscious, but so far it is resting under the surface.”
Eventually, the crew rebelled. They reinstated the previous captain and Genovés fell into a deep depression, exiling himself below decks and musing about how his own desire for control had led to such a colossal failure. (He also hated the “sex raft” nickname given to the expedition by sarcastic journalists.)
What he didn’t understand was that the expedition had been a success — just not in the way he imagined.
The surviving crew members told a documentarian in 2019 that they found a common cause and mission through the voyage. Some had escaped domestic violence and racism. The barely controlled environment actually gave them a supportive community. Some members apparently even considered offing Genovés together.
I’ve been thinking about the sex raft a lot lately, because I’m a sucker for hope and we’re living through less-than-hopeful times.
Maybe Kansans and Americans will fight among themselves while the country burns, not taking a moment to step back and assess the situation. Maybe elected officials and fundraisers and consultants and messaging gurus have all the information they need to perfectly manipulate us one way or another.
But perhaps not. Take property taxes. Republicans expanded their supermajorities in the House and Senate with promises to lower the sales tax burden on Kansans. What did they end up doing during the session? Next to nothing.
Members might think that Kansans weren’t watching. I can tell them firsthand that the crewmates on raft Sunflower noticed.
On Thursday, Kansas Reflector staff appeared at the Trails That Connect Us event in Lawrence. The gathering featured beer, entertainment and various community organizations. I spoke at length to one reader who definitely had noticed the lack of action on property taxes.
