Every time a relationship with a different sex maniac comes to a fiery end, I have the same thought: “This time I’m going to date someone nice, who’s never even once been accused of sexual harassment.” Every time I say it to myself in this really self-congratulatory way, like I’ve just discovered the cure for cancer. But then, without fail, when I start dating one of these nice, in-control people, within two weeks I want to kill myself. It’s hard to get off on virtue alone.

Sadly, in recent years, the sex maniac has become a marginalized figure. It’s no secret that female sexuality has long been policed—ya know, slut shaming and the sexual double standard and all that good stuff. But today we have we created an environment where (allegedly predatory) male sexuality needs to be policed, and (allegedly passive) female sexuality needs to be protected—which seems equally tragic to me. In our increasingly safe-spaced culture, it’s increasingly unchill to be sexually out of control—which is kind of a bummer, because being restrained isn’t very sexy (unless it’s, like, for bondage purposes).

Last weekend, at a brunch in a Soho loft, I was close-talking with a 60-something poet in a three piece suit. “In the ’70s you could be a sex maniac and it wasn’t a big deal,” he told me. “It was considered a good thing, even. It made you interesting. But today you can barely make a dirty joke without someone being ‘triggered.’”

Of course, conduct is key. Being a sex maniac is most appreciated when channeled in the right way in the bedroom, but not useful when channeled in the wrong way, in the buildup. You can be a hedonist and also be a decent human being who communicates your desires in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. You have to get the dance right.

Also at the brunch was an ex-lover of mine—“Scott,” a 35-year-old filmmaker and a sex maniac (obviously), who, in addition to his propensity for polyamory, also has taste for transgression—namely, a taste for women who are considerably older, considerably younger, and considerably married. “It’s a bad cultural moment to be an overtly sexual man,” Scott told me, checking out a woman over my shoulder. “There’s obviously a distinction between a man who has a lot of sex with different women, and a predator. But nowadays, any halfway ‘woke’ guy knows that because of the patriarchy, you have to recognize that you’re always one step away from being predatory. Still, I do think there’s a moral path for men who don’t want to pursue the conventional domestic existence. Of course, beside that higher path there is also a low and sordid path. But some of us male sluts are really trying our best, okay? I'm trying to be the Dexter of emotionally crippled sex-addicted womanizers.”

Ideally, we would find a middle ground—a world where sexual bullies aren’t tolerated, but where respectful perverts are given space to hone their craft. Everyone has their own preferences when it comes to sexual dynamics. We shouldn’t treat stereotypically masculine or heterosexual roles as if they’re the enemy, but rather as one sexual dynamic among many. And we should be able to play different roles and push these dynamics to their extremes. It sounds like such an obvious thing to say, but there is something very nice about people who enjoy sex. And I’m personally still holding out for the ethical sex maniac who can last the long haul.