Polite society is a thing of the past

In 1908, the iconoclast writer Lytton Strachey – the bad boy of the Bloomsbury set – pointed a long finger at a stain on artist Vanessa Bell’s dress and asked, “Semen?” Later, Bell’s sister Virginia Woolf wrote: “With that one word all barriers of reticence and reserve went down… It was, I think, a great advance in civilization.”

Americans tend to think that the English are sexually repressed and too refined and cultured for such talk

I was recently in a bar in Bloomsbury – one that actually serves a “Virginia Woolf hamburger” – when talk among the young women at my table turned to men they knew who were, how should I put this, well-endowed. Of course, I’ve heard such talk before, but not in a long time and not in such anatomical detail. What, I wondered, would Virginia and her Bloomsbury set think of that conversation? A further “advance in civilization” – or the end of it?

Since then I have had numerous conversations like that one – usually with very posh and highly educated young women – or melancholic young men with size anxiety. Like the death of the novel or the rebirth of jazz, the big penis is one of those topics that turns up every so often and quickly disappears. And some will say: thank heavens for that! But not me.

Yes, I know it’s a rather juvenile subject, the silly stuff of schoolboys and bitchy socialites. Traditionally, it’s not been a fit subject for polite society or august journals like this one. But polite society is a thing of the past. We’re no longer in a Noël Coward world – instead, we’re living on Planet Porn where intelligent, kind men send dick-pics to strangers.

So how can I justify all this penis talk? Table talk in London these days is so relentlessly gloomy, so apocalyptic, so grown-up and dull that we need some irreverent juvenile banter to lighten things up. London society has become so serious, with its constant talk of free speech and the war in Gaza. We need more silly talk about sex and private parts that make us gasp and giggle.

And I know of no other topic to enliven a stuffy, dull dinner party full of tedious talk of children’s education, home renovations and holiday plans than to introduce the topic of the big penis. I once sat next to a very deaf old toff who was being asked about the size of his country estate by some rich touristy woman. He turned to me and asked, “What’s she saying?” “She wants to know,” I replied, “if you have a big penis.” Everyone gasped in horror, but the old boy couldn’t stop laughing.

I, too, have been on the receiving end of penis provocation. Once in a seedy club in Soho in the 1970s a very gay man asked if I would like to see his member. Clearly, he thought he could freak out an old, uptight heterosexual like me but I was determined not to back down. “Whip it out, toots,” I said “and let’s have a look.” That shut him up.

Americans tend to think that the English are sexually repressed and too refined and cultured for such talk, thanks to the Brideshead Revisited/Downton Abbey view of of the country. But on the contrary, they talk pure filth and swear all the time. And unlike Americans they use the C-word without embarrassment or regret.

Anyway, if my female friends are to be believed, suddenly every man in London has a large penis. What’s going on? Is this some kind of feminist payback for male obsession about breast size? Maybe it’s all about status; the must-have item for the modern woman who has everything?

I see it as part of a backlash against the progressive/liberal penis piety of the past few decades. We’re all meant to believe that size doesn’t matter and that such talk is symptomatic of “toxic masculinity” and conducted by macho morons. Well guess what: women think it’s fun – and funny – to talk about.

It’s often said that the personal is political – and nothing is quite so personal as the penis. Penis talk is even entering into political discourse. According to a 2014 YouGov poll, British Conservative voters are the political group most likely to agree that penis size matters (48 percent), while their Liberal Democrat counterparts feel strongly the other way, with 60 percent disagreeing.

There’s always been this idea among sections of the left that the authoritarian politician or personality needs to play the big powerful man because he feels inadequate about his penis size – and now they point to Donald Trump as proof. Sound ridiculous and disrespectful? I recall Trump and Marco Rubio bringing the topic into the mainstream. In the 2016 Republican primary, Trump rebuked his rival Rubio’s suggestion that his small hands meant you know what. “I guarantee you there’s no problem,” said Trump. “I guarantee.” True or false, for once I admire his indiscretion.

This article was originally published in The Spectator’s October 13, 2025 World edition.