"What attracts you physically in a man?" Someone asked me recently. Naturally I replied that the sexiest thing about a man is what's inside his head. Naturally I didn't hear from him again. (This was almost certainly a blessing.)

But it's amazing how determinedly we pretend that sex is a body thing – a sport, really, with all the competition and expectation so implied – when in fact it's almost entirely mental. This is especially interesting now, since it seems our mental sex-tools are morphing, generationally, in a way that could yet wreak Gaia's revenge on humanity.

Illustration: Rocco Fazzari

I'm no expert. Indeed, I regard the very idea of a sex expert as faintly repulsive and itself symptomatic of just how deeply we undermine our own best interests.

Further, to be female and say anything publicly about sex, other than "more, harder, longer," is to invite the wrath and ridicule of the trollosphere; to be labelled wuss, wimp and wowser. So I'd not be sticking my head above this particular parapet if there weren't plenty of experts saying it too: internet porn is rewiring children's brains away from sex and, more importantly, away from love.