I t’s 10.30pm in the town of Lynnwood, Washington state, and 30-year-old Michael Sworen is beginning his nightly bedtime ritual after a long day’s work as a sous-chef. The restaurant job helps pays the bills, but he and his wife Nic have also set up a children’s illustration business, Merlion Illustration, which they hope will one day allow them to stay at home with their little girl. The family celebrated their first Mother’s Day in May, with daughter Emelia kitted out in a pink leotard that read “Mom’s First Mother’s Day”.



With 11-month-old Emelia asleep and Nic in bed, he showers, combs his hair, then reaches for the tube of gel between his toothbrush and deodorant. He squirts a teaspoon-sized amount of the gel on each shoulder, blends it into his chest, waits 30 seconds and puts on an old, grey Los Angeles Lakers T-shirt before heading to bed himself.

Inside the nondescript tube sitting on the Sworens’ bathroom cabinet is a gel that could change the lives of millions of men and women across the world – a male contraceptive. It has been more than half a century since the first birth control pill was approved for women but, while there are 15 female contraceptives on the market, for men there are just two: vasectomies and condoms.