Sex education continues to be elusive in India. A few months ago, a parliamentary committee on petitions rejected the new Adolescence Education Programme, a comprehensive sex education programme proposed by the Ministry of Human Resource Development. India’s “social and cultural ethos are such that sex education has absolutely no place in it”, the committee huffed. Naturopathy and ayurveda should be taught instead.

Meanwhile, teenage girls continue to get married and become pregnant. According to the National Family Health Survey III, nearly half of women in India get married before the age of 18. More than 50% of children said they had faced one or more forms of sexual abuse, according to a 2007 study (pdf) by the ministry of women and child development. They have neither the knowledge nor the means to protest or handle it adequately.

In this context, the committee’s obstinacy seems baffling, almost brutal. But it has its roots in deep-seated emotions that are closely entangled with centuries of religious and cultural mores. Leaders from Buddha to Gandhi demonised sex, it was seen as something evil or dirty, something to be avoided, controlled or condemned. Add to that elements of prudish patriarchy, peevish ignorance and paranoid imaginings about cultural colonisation and you have a mess of dysfunctional views with regard to sex.

That the committee’s objections are irrational is clear. Most can be broken down quite easily. Its insistence that sex before marriage is “immoral, unethical and unhealthy” and that sex outside marriage is “against the social ethos” of the country is easily refuted given the current climate of sexual openness in the mass media. Vague terms like “decency” and wild conjecturing about possible dangers seem strange counters to the very real, concrete facts on sexual abuse and HIV.

Culture is not a monolith; it needs to change and adapt to shifting realities. Policymakers and politicians need to realise this but a seismic shift of mindset will take time. In the meantime, all we can do is to find ways around the official stance.

A number of NGOs are doing effective work in this sphere. Mobile educational units that visit villages and towns are innovative and inclusive. They create the space for honest dialogue without, as far as possible, scaring people away. Comic books are being used to spread health awareness – and sex education could also use such ideas. Some experts say that television can play a significant role. Short programmes on sex education could help dispel some basic misconceptions. Wherever possible, families must provide their children with sex education. Neighbourhood groups should organise space for such discussions among their children. Apartment co-operatives could organise talks with NGOs or health experts.

Of course, we must continue to hope for change at a higher level. We must bring this up often, until the urgency is eventually recognised. But let’s also look at less formal methods. Our failure to do so could be damaging – or even fatal – for our children.