Young adult perspectives on sexuality education in Australia: implications for sexual violence primary prevention

ABSTRACT

Over the past decade, global awareness of the extent, impacts and underlying drivers of sexual violence has grown. While sexual violence can affect anyone, research indicates that young people are disproportionately affected as both victims/survivors and as perpetrators. Comprehensive sexuality education is one key strategy to prevent sexual violence among young people. However, research has revealed significant shortcomings of Australian sexuality education. A reflexive thematic analysis was conducted to qualitatively investigate 20 young adults’ (aged 18–30) experiences and perceptions of Australian sexuality education. The findings indicated that while the participants learned about sexual health topics during their school years, these subjects were significantly focused on fear-based messaging and risk-reduction. Knowledge and skills-building on sexual wellbeing and ethical sexual experiences were lacking. In the absence of comprehensive sexuality education, participants described learning about sex through various alternative methods. The insights drawn from interviews with young adults illuminate how sexuality education both shaped and restricted their perceptions of sex and sexual health. This research calls for the need to incorporate knowledge and skills-building around consent, pleasure, intimacy, ethics, and safety within sexuality education. Implications for an evidence-based comprehensive sexuality education and the primary prevention of sexual violence are discussed.

KEYWORDS:

• Australia
• sexual violence
• sexuality education
• young adults
• consent
• primary prevention

Introduction

Over the past decade, there has been increased attention in Australia towards understanding the scope, repercussions, and root causes of sexual violence. Australian statistics show that 22% of women and 6.1% of men have experienced sexual violence since the age of 15 (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021–22). While sexual violence can affect anyone, research indicates that young Australians are disproportionately represented both as victim/survivors and perpetrators. For instance, findings from the 7th National Survey of Australian Secondary Students and Sexual Health (Power et al. 2022) reveal that 39.5% of participants reported encountering unwanted sexual experiences.¹ In their most recent unwanted sexual encounter, young people reported facing various forms of coercion, including verbal pressure (65.2%), physical force (31.9%), agreeing due to fear of negative consequences (40.7%), and being too intoxicated by drugs or alcohol to consent (28%). While these statistics are specific to Australia, similar trends are observed in other countries such as the United Kingdom (Office for National Statistics 2023). These figures highlight the need to develop and implement effective primary prevention strategies that work to reduce sexual violence among young people.

Grounded in a public health framework, primary prevention approaches seek to prevent sexual violence before it occurs, by identifying and mitigating underlying risk factors (Heise 1998; Henry and Powell 2014; Hooker et al. 2021; Our Watch 2021). Our Watch – the recognised leaders in Australia on the primary prevention of violence against women – defines primary prevention as an approach that ‘works to change the underlying social conditions that produce and drive violence against women, and that excuse, justify or even promote it. It works across the whole population to address the attitudes, norms, practices, structures and power imbalances that drive violence’ (2021, 8). Australian governments have recognised the need to improve primary prevention to address sexual violence. Notably, the Commonwealth Government developed a national policy framework titled ‘The National Plan to End Violence Against Women and Children 2022–2032’ (Commonwealth of Australia 2022). This framework highlights the importance of continuous development, implementation, and evaluation of targeted primary prevention strategies tailored to specific communities. As part of the framework, one recognised strategy to reduce sexual violence among young people is the implementation of school-based sexuality education programmes, with a specific focus on consent and respectful relationships (Commonwealth of Australia 2022).

Sexuality education

Comprehensive sexuality education programmes encompass learning about the emotional, cognitive, physical, and social dimensions of sexuality (UNESCO 2018). Its objectives include empowering young people with knowledge and skills to promote positive sexuality, maintain their sexual health and foster respectful relationships. Its goals are also to encourage young people to understand the impact of their choices on themselves and others and exercise their sexual and reproductive rights (UNESCO 2018). Best-practice frameworks promote the early initiation of sexuality education during foundational school years, progressing with developmentally appropriate lessons over time (Goldfarb and Lieberman 2021; Pound et al. 2017; Madeline and Hirsch 2020; UNESCO 2018).

Multiple systematic reviews have examined the effectiveness of comprehensive sexuality education programmes (Burton et al. 2023; Goldfarb and Lieberman 2021; Janssens et al. 2020; Lameiras-Fernández et al. 2021). These reviews consistently highlight how programmes which incorporate skill-building strategies, interactive components, extended duration (beyond brief, one-off sessions), and embrace a human rights approach² have positive effects. For instance, Goldfarb and Lieberman (2021) conducted a systematic review spanning three decades of research on school-based programmes, analysing 80 articles from studies conducted in 16 countries. Their findings indicated that comprehensive sexuality education was associated with various positive outcomes, including a deeper understanding of gender norms, reduction of homophobia, prevention of child sexual abuse, promotion of healthy relationships, and a decrease in intimate partner and dating violence (Goldfarb and Lieberman 2021). In effect, sexuality education can empower young people by enhancing their communication skills, facilitating ethical and consensual sexual experiences, and emphasising sexual agency, pleasure, and intimacy as human rights (Allen and Carmody 2012; Hirst 2013; Mark, Corona-Vargas, and Cruz 2021; Tolman 2012).

Despite this evidence, sexuality education programmes have traditionally focused on risk and harm reduction, such as preventing sexually transmissible infections (STIs), unplanned pregnancies, and sexual harms (Burton et al. 2023; Janssens et al. 2020; Lameiras-Fernández et al. 2021). For example, in Goldfarb and Lieberman’s (2021) review, of the 218 articles considered, over 80% (179 out of 218) exclusively addressed pregnancy and disease prevention, leading to their exclusion from the review. Indeed, there is a notable distinction between comprehensive sexuality education, which focuses on knowledge, attitudes and skills-building, and prevention education, which focuses on providing information on risk reduction (Kantor and Lindberg 2020; Madeline and Hirsch 2020). Even when addressing sexual violence in sexuality education, the content can often revolve around negative risk reduction strategies, such as learning to say ‘no’ and avoiding illegal behaviours such as sexual assault or (sometimes) sexual image sharing (Kantor and Lindberg 2020; Lloyd 2020). However, for sexuality education to serve as a primary prevention strategy, it must go beyond risk reduction to enhance young people’s ethical sexual decision-making and sexual agency (Carmody 2015). This will involve imparting knowledge and building skills for healthy relationship dynamics, sexual pleasure, intimacy, and understanding consent and sexual coercion (Cense, de Grauw, and Vermeulen 2020; Sperling 2023).

Sexuality education in Australia

In 2021, a series of high-profile cases of sexual violence in Australia sparked a national conversation about the role of sexuality education in preventing such incidents. This led to a significant push towards consent education as a prevention strategy to reduce sexual violence, specifically among young people. Consequently, state and federal education ministers mandated consent in the Australian curriculum from foundational schooling to year 10 (ages 5 to 15/16). From 2023, the curriculum covers topics such as gender dynamics, power imbalances, coercion, and disrespect in relationships (ACARA 2022). Additionally, substantial government funding (over $3.5 million in 2023) has been allocated to support the implementation of consent education in schools and on social media (Rishworth 2023). In effect, consent education has emerged as a key primary prevention strategy against sexual violence targeting young people. Despite this, research underscores the ongoing need for quality improvement in sexuality education.

While the newest curriculum is yet to be evaluated to date, research indicates that sexuality education in Australian secondary schools has lacked comprehensiveness, consistency, and effectiveness (e.g. Ezer et al. 2019; Power et al. 2022). Furthermore, young Australians have long identified significant shortcomings in their sexuality education, describing it as inadequate and lacking in essential topics (Grant and Nash 2019; Patsie and Wilson 2016; Powell 2010; Power et al. 2022; Waling et al. 2021). For instance, a mixed methods study by Walker et al. (2023) explored young Victorians’ perspectives on sexuality education with an online survey (n = 1,226) and online workshops (n = 20). Nearly half the survey participants (48%) reported limited learning experiences, with over two-thirds finding it unengaging (65%) and insufficient (75%). Additionally, only one-fifth (21%) believed they left secondary school with adequate knowledge in this area. Workshop participants identified significant gaps in topics such as LGBTQIA+ relationships, the social and emotional aspects of sexuality, consent, contraception, and fertility. This study highlighted the need for ongoing development and improvement of sexuality education, particularly involving young people as stakeholders.

Most international research on sexuality education has focused on broad outcomes related to sexual health, with fewer studies focusing on the context of sexual violence prevention (Goldfarb and Lieberman 2021). Only a ‘handful’ of recent Australian studies have drawn on the perspectives and lived experiences of young people themselves (Riggs, Bellamy, and Wiggins 2024; Waling et al. 2021; Walker et al. 2023), with even fewer examining the retrospective accounts of young adults (e.g. Daina, Lynch, and Joosten 2023; Graham et al. 2023; Grant and Nash 2019). As Renold and Timperley wrote, sexuality education remains an ‘enduringly troublesome field … where research on “what matters” to children and young people is often wilfully neglected, side-lined, simplified and routinely sensationalised beyond academia’ (2021, 87). Here, they advocate for identifying and addressing the unique needs and concerns of young people by amplifying their perspectives as key stakeholders.

The current study

This study aimed to contribute to the ongoing discourse surrounding sexuality education and its capacity to prevent sexual violence among young Australians. There were two main research questions: (1) what are young adults’ perspectives of school-based sexuality education in Australia; and (2) what are the implications for the future of sexuality education as a sexual violence primary prevention strategy? In addressing these questions, young adults were invited to participate in qualitative interviews to discuss their experiences, reflections, and perspectives about the sexuality education they received or would have liked to receive.

Methods

Participants

The study included 20 young adults aged 18 to 30 (M_age = 24), who graduated from Australian high schools between 2013 and 2022 and had participated in at least one consensual sexual experience. The inclusion criteria were added to gather the experiences of people who were able to critically reflect on both in-school and out-of-school experiences with sex and sexuality education. Participants were recruited through advertisement posts on social media platforms (such as Facebook and X) and online channels including advocacy, educational, and club groups nationwide, to create an inclusive participant pool.

Most participants identified as cisgender women (80%), while a smaller portion identified as cisgender men (10%). Additionally, one participant identified as a transgender woman, and another as a transgender man. Most were Caucasian or white Australian (75%), and their sexual identities ranged from heterosexual (40%), bisexual (15%), pansexual (10%), queer (15%), questioning (10%), homosexual (5%) and lesbian (5%). See Table 1. For additional demographic characteristics.

Table 1. Participants’ self-identified demographics.

Pseudonym	Age	Sexuality	Gender Identity	Cultural Identity
Danielle she/her	25	Bisexual	Cis-female	White Australian
Daisy she/her	24	Heterosexual	Female	White Australian
Stephanie she/her	24	Heterosexual	Female	Caucasian
Mindy she/her	23	Pansexual	Female/woman	Caucasian and Vietnamese
Steel he/him	30	Homosexual	Man/male	Australian
Tina she/her	26	Straight	Female	German
Pearl she/her	25	Straight	Woman	Australian
Zoe she/her	24	Straight/questioning	Woman	Caucasian
Carol she/they	25	Queer	Cis-female	Caucasian
Rob he/him	25	Heterosexual	Male	White Australian
Kiki she/her	24	No idea	Female	Irish
Ada they/them she/her	26	Queer	Transgender non-binary woman	European
Dyllan she/her	23	Bisexual	Female	White Australian
Shenton he/they/it	23	Aromantic bisexual	Transgender man	White Australian
Florence she/her	21	Straight	Woman	White Australian
Eden she/her	23	Pansexual	Woman	Australian and South African
Margot she/her	24	Queer	Female	Caucasian
Lola she/her	25	Heterosexual	Woman	White Australian
Betty she/her	23	Heterosexual	Female	Caucasian
Sonny (she/her)	18	Lesbian	Female	White Australian

Procedure

The study received institutional ethics approval from RMIT University’s Human Research Ethics Committee (Project Number 25,295). The interviews were conducted between August 2022 and August 2023 by the first author and lasted approximately 40 minutes. They took place either in person (n = 3) or via Microsoft Teams (n =17). A semi-structured interview schedule was used to explore young people’s experiences and perspectives of sexuality education. This approach allowed specific questions to be asked about participants’ experiences with sexuality education while also giving them the freedom to elaborate on relevant topics. Before each interview, participants received an overview of the research. They then answered open-ended questions about their memories and experiences with sexuality education. At the conclusion of the interview, participants had the chance to discuss any aspects of sexuality education that were not covered.

Data analysis

The interviews were recorded via Microsoft Teams or on an external recording device, and transcribed verbatim. Any identifying information was removed before coding commenced. A reflexive thematic analysis was conducted, aided by NVivo 11.0 Software (Braun and Clarke 2019; Byrne 2022). Firstly, the interview data was thematically organised into broad topic codes (e.g. negative experience of sexuality education). These broad codes were developed further and organised into specific sub-codes based on the interview discussions (e.g. focus on STIs, conservative school environments). The themes were data-driven and generated by their significance to the research questions. The authorship team met frequently to discuss the codes and engage in familiarisation, reflection, discussion, and interpretation of the data to ensure reflexivity was conducted (Braun and Clarke 2019). Pseudonyms were used to protect participants’ confidentiality and quotes have been lightly edited to improve readability, although their meanings remain unchanged.

Findings and discussion

Our findings explore the nuanced landscape of sexuality education from the young adults’ perspectives. Their narratives revealed a rich tapestry of emotions where humour and gloom intermingled, often accompanied by shared laughter as they recounted their lived experiences. While there were moments of levity, these coexisted with a prevailing sense of criticism as the young adults identified significant shortcomings in their sexuality education. There are two main themes: (1) STIs, contraception and conservatism: young people’s criticisms of sexuality education; and (2) ‘It needs to actually be about sex’: the call for a more comprehensive approach to sexuality education. The first theme explores the young adults’ reflections on the sexuality education they received, while the second theme outlines pathways for enhancing sexuality education as a primary prevention strategy. Ultimately, the study argues for the integration of skills-building and the inclusion of young people’s voices to strengthen primary prevention efforts.

STIs, contraception and conservatism: young people’s criticisms of sexuality education

All the young adults expressed critical views of their sexuality education. While a few young adults mentioned receiving adequate education on sexual health topics, most recalled a sexuality education focused on STI and risk prevention. Some participants mentioned this education seemed to intentionally focus on visibly noticeable and severe STIs. For instance, Eden (23, woman) recalled:

They would handout these big, long leaflets of all the things that can go wrong and the horrible symptoms that would come up and that no one would want to have sex with you ever again, and you’d have to tell your partners. And then I got an STI a few years ago, and I had never heard of it because my school just focused on the STIs that if left untreated, can get really bad.

The prominence of visually severe STIs in sexuality education instilled fear in many participants about engaging in sex. For example, Dyllan (23, woman) expressed: ‘We got taught all about STIs and we were going to die if we got Chlamydia. Everyone was like, this is the end of the world, having sex is terrifying’. Here, STI education was overshadowed by messages of risk and shaming regarding sexual activity (see also Gunning, Cooke-Jackson, and Rubinsky 2020; Hunt 2023). These messages align with research on abstinence-only sexuality education, which indicates that instead of being informative, they directly instil fear in young people about engaging in sexual activity (Lauren and Stitzlein 2018).

Most participants recalled learning about condoms, characterising sexuality education as being dominated by the concept of ‘sperm meets egg, baby, done’ (Kiki, 24, woman). Among their recollections, the inherently gendered nature of contraception education stood out. Daisy (24, woman), for example, recalled: ‘all I remember from sex ed was our male health teacher bringing in those fake bananas. And all we learned was how to put a condom on and him saying girls remember, if it’s not on, it’s not on’. Gendered approaches to condom education have been examined in previous research, which associates sexual health beliefs about contraception to traditional and hegemonic gender norms (Dalessandro 2020; Flanagan et al. 2021). For example, research suggests that women often bear a disproportionate responsibility for preventing pregnancy and STIs, potentially leading to a lack of condom usage by prioritising men’s pleasure over women’s needs (Dalessandro 2020; Flanagan et al. 2021).

A few young women also expressed how sexuality education made them genuinely fearful of unwanted pregnancy. For instance, Pearl (25, woman) spoke on how unwanted pregnancy was ‘such a big focus at school’:

Don’t have sex or you’ll get pregnant and that’ll ruin your life … There wasn’t that, oh you can have sex and use contraception and you’ll be fine and as long as it’s consensual, you’ll have a lovely time. It was just like, you’re going to get pregnant and that’s going to be really bad.

A paradox exists here, as young people were provided knowledge about contraception, yet there was an absence of knowledge or skills-building regarding initiating conversations about its usage. A few participants acknowledged this tension, recognising the lack of skills-based education to improve their communication strategies within contraception education. For example, ‘it had very little to do with having a personal conversation and the engagement that happens in the lead up to [sex] happening’ (Zoe, 24, woman)) and ‘[sexuality education] did nothing for the sociocultural lens of sex, or nothing about emotional connection or interpersonal relationships’ (Eden, 23, woman). Research suggests that comprehensive sexuality education that includes skills-building can enhance young people’s sexual agency and in turn, increase contraceptive use (see Chavula, Mumba Zulu, and Hurtig 2022 for a review).

Sexuality education in conservative school environments

The ways conservative school environments approached sexuality education were inconsistent and often anomalous, particularly in religious school contexts. Betty (23, woman) expressed surprise that her Catholic school addressed the topic of STI prevention, stating, ‘Because it was a Catholic school, so I just assumed they would pretend like sex doesn’t exist’. Additionally, Margot (24, woman) detailed how her Catholic school teacher defied the school’s curriculum to provide sexuality education to students, saying,

I remember the health teachers being like, I’m not really supposed to teach you about this because it’s a Catholic school, but it’s important for your health so we are going to do this.

Young people who attended conservative and religious schools were particularly vocal in describing their experiences of sexuality education and the gaps left in their knowledge. For example, participants recalled encountering beliefs such as ‘condoms pollute the environment, the pill will make you infertile, porn will make you mentally ill’ (Mindy, 23, woman) or ‘the hymen was put there by God to make sure a woman only had one sexual partner’ (Rob, 25, man). In another instance, Ada (26, transgender non-binary woman) recounted a class exercise involving chocolate bars, where students were instructed to say ‘I’m having sex with you’ while giving away pieces of their chocolate. Ada detailed this was to convey that ‘sex is an act of giving yourself away to someone’ and that excessive sexual activity depletes self-worth.

While most participants received information about condoms, fertility tracking, or family planning to prevent unwanted pregnancies, abstinence-only education was deeply ingrained in religious sexuality education. As Stephanie (24, woman) asserted: ‘when you’re actually engaging in sexual stuff in high school when you need it, there was nothing there … it was don’t have sex or you’ll get pregnant’. Research emphasises that abstinence-only education is often ineffective in delaying sexual activity or decreasing teenage pregnancy rates and instead, young people report it being irrelevant and promoting sexist and heterosexist stereotypes (Atkins and David Bradford 2021; Elizabeth et al. 2023; Hoefer and Hoefer 2017; Lauren and Stitzlein 2018).

‘The penny dropped’: exploring alternative approaches to learning about sex when sexuality education falls short

As participants found their school-based sexuality education lacking, they sought out information about sex through alternative means. A few participants described nostalgic scenes of talking about sex on the school playground or hiding in library corners to read books with ‘intimate moments or full-blown sex scenes in them’ (Carol, 25, woman). However, the absence of sex in sexuality education – or the lack of any sexuality education – meant the young people were often introduced to sex through unregulated platforms. For many of the participants, online self-education became a necessary avenue for education about sexuality and identity (see also Hobaica and Kwon 2017). For example, Ada (26, transgender non-binary woman) spoke about how many of their friends turned to ‘ghost chat sites or directly to porn … to find materials that would actually help us understand ourselves in more diverse ways’.

Among the young adults, exposure to pornography (porn) emerged as the most common introduction to the world of sex. For example, Mindy (23, woman) accidentally stumbled across mainstream porn when she was 10 on her iPod:

I was googling Marge Simpson and at the very bottom of Google images was like a picture of her naked. I remember thinking, I don’t remember this happening on The Simpsons. I clicked on it, and it took me to a porn page. It was so confronting. But I became obsessed. From that point, every night I would just be scrolling on this porn website. And cartoon porn is very incestual, like the age is a bit blurred … It did make me a bit confused as to what sex is.

Similarly, Daisy’s (24, woman) understanding of sex was shaped when a friend shared his Tumblr post: ‘he showed me a GIF of a penis going inside a vagina and I was like, hold on, it goes inside! I had no idea, I was 16. I was blown away, gobsmacked’. The role of platforms like Tumblr in shaping young people’s understandings of sex – particularly within the queer community – has been acknowledged (e.g. Bradford et al. 2019). However, in 2018, the app was temporarily removed from the Apple App store due to its hosting of child pornography (see Pilipets and Paasonen 2022). Subsequently, all Not Safe/Suitable for Work content is now banned from Tumblr. Here, the reality of young people resorting to alternative and unregulated platforms for sexuality education is highlighted, as some participants learnt about sex through a platform that inadvertently provided them access to child pornography.

While research suggests that porn can offer insights into sexual mechanics and identity (Litsou et al. 2021), other studies highlight its depiction of unequal sexual roles and aggression towards women (e.g. Vera-Gray et al. 2021). Consequently, inadequate sexuality education coupled with reliance on pornography as a source of sexual information may lead to misunderstandings and misconceptions about sex among young people. For example, had Mindy received sexuality education, she would have known that aspects such as ‘incest’ are not ethical parts of a sexual experience. Providing porn literacy in sexuality education is essential to guide and inform young people’s navigations of explicit materials and shape their knowledge and attitudes towards sexuality (Crabbe, Flood, and Adams 2024; Crabbe and Flood 2021; Goldstein 2020).

‘It needs to actually be about sex’: the call for a more comprehensive approach to sexuality education

All the young adults expressed a strong belief in the potential of sexuality education to reduce sexual violence among young people. In particular, the young adults advocated for LGBTQIA+ inclusion, the early commencement of sexuality education, and the involvement of expert educators in delivering the content. The central message shared by all the participants was the need to improve knowledge and skills-building for effective communication strategies between sexual partners. For example:

It’s all well and good to be like, if you don’t want something say no, but like, I think that’s not specific enough. So, examples of what to say and phrases on how to deliver it if you feel safe with that person and you’re not scared of how they’re going to react.

(Tina, 26, woman)

Many young adults believed that role-playing activities could be effective in improving young people’s knowledge and skills on healthy communication behaviours. For example, Eden (23, woman) believed that sexuality education could introduce ‘little videos of fun stuff in terms of being able to contextualise sex and actually understand sex to get an understanding of consent … also bring in lived experiences, but from people that aren’t just heteronormative or cisgender’. Participants also spoke about role-playing activities being beneficial to enhance young people’s knowledge and skills on ‘how to react when someone says no and how to say no yourself’ (Rob, 25, man) and emphasising that ‘you can say yes and then change your mind and say no’ (Pearl, 25, woman).

The inclusion of consent education in the curriculum may seem like a response to young people’s calls for better communication skills in sexuality education. Indeed, many participants advocated for the importance of consent education to reduce sexual violence among young people. However, some participants also recognised the limitation of a consent-focused sexuality education. The following quotes highlight the tensions between sexuality education being focused on imparting knowledge on affirmative consent principles, and the various factors that influence and shape sexual experiences:

When you haven’t found yourself yet or your voice, or haven’t had those experiences yet, it is so hard to say no. And to know, what you want and what you want to do and what you’re comfortable with. It’s a very experimental phase. And unfortunately, without education, that experimental phase can be very harmful.

(Mindy, 23, woman)

People find communicating their wants and need uncomfortable and embarrassing, and they’re worried about rejection or judgement from the other party. I don’t think people have the skills or emotional maturity to have those conversations. They require a lot of compassion, gentle assertiveness, and self-assurance in asking for what you want, and I think that’s something that’s developed, not necessarily ingrained, especially in men. That’s when people get into those grey areas, and someone is uncomfortable when they don’t know how to speak up or stop.

(Dyllan, 23, woman)

Mindy and Dyllan’s reflections highlight the challenge of young people navigating complex emotional and interpersonal dynamics and relationships without comprehensive education or support regarding broader structures influencing sexual experiences.

Some participants noted that current discussions about consent in sexuality education often narrowly focus on legalities and affirmative consent principles. Instead of fostering skills for ethical and pleasurable sexual experiences, this approach was perceived to teach consent within a risk-reduction framework. For example:

There’s obviously a lot of discourse around consent education and I do think that’s obviously really important, but I think it really needs to be widened a bit. Like, as much as there are intricacies of sexual consent, it’s pretty straight forward. It’s pretty difficult to believe that a 20-year-old guy doesn’t know what consent is … I feel like sometimes the conversation is, this is how you don’t rape, but it’s not like, this is how you can have ethical, enjoyable sex. It’s very much like, get her consent or get their consent so they can’t accuse you or you won’t get arrested. But from the very basic level we just need to be like, sex is good, what is sex, how can we have sexual relationships safely.

(Florence, 21, woman)

This central focus on the transactional aspects of consent to avoid legal repercussions could neglect the importance of navigating pleasurable and ethical sexual experiences. Some participants also noted that consent education might place additional responsibility on young people to manage consent dynamics, creating a gap between theoretical understanding and practical application:

[Consent] was always taught to us as, oh well it would be obvious. There’s physical reciprocation but then also that can be done if you’re feeling uncomfortable, when you’re feeling like you don’t want [sex] and just go along with it … you don’t want to put more responsibility on people who are in the less powerful position.

(Pearl, 25, woman)

I think a lot of the conversation has been around consent and how important it is. But there’s not a lot of conversation around the actual pragmatics of how to [do it]. It makes a lot of sense and consent is great, it’s absolutely a critical part of sex, but it’s not the most straightforward thing … that’s where a lot of unwanted experiences come from.

(Danielle, 25, woman)

These accounts stress the importance of moving beyond a simplistic understanding of consent and providing comprehensive education on how to navigate complex interpersonal dynamics in sexual encounters (see also Setty 2021).

In addition, a few participants argued that consent education tends to focus on navigating the initiation of a sexual experience, overlooking discussions on how to handle situations when things go wrong. For instance, Kiki (24, woman) stated: I'f you’re having sex with someone and you think, I’ve messed this up, I don’t think they’re enjoying it, how you handle that aftermath is just as important as how you handle the beginning…people are so scared of getting into trouble. Like Kiki, a few participants stressed the importance of young people learning how to navigate the ‘aftermath’ of sex, indicating that comprehensive sexuality education should cover not only affirmative consent processes but also the intricate dynamics during and after sex. This highlights the need for sexuality education to go beyond the initiation of sexual activities, addressing the wide range of experiences, reactions, and responsibilities involved in ethical sexual encounters.

Scholars have argued that consent discourse in sexual violence prevention initiatives often narrowly focuses on legal frameworks, potentially overlooking nuances of pleasure and intimacy within risk-oriented discourses (Beres 2014; Gilbert 2018; Hayes, Burns, and Egan 2024; Waling, James, and Moor 2024). Resultingly, there exists a paradoxical alignment in which sex is presented as risky, while simultaneously, young people are encouraged to engage in affirmative consent practices (i.e. taking active steps to check the other person is consenting to sexual activity; see also Powell 2010). The tension lies in how educational frameworks addresses risks, often at the expense of a more comprehensive understanding of sexual experiences that includes both pleasure and ethical considerations.

Strengths and limitations

As this research sought to explore the perspectives of young Australians, a limitation is the absence of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people’s perspectives. The research team acknowledges the vital importance of Indigenous led and owned research on violence prevention (Bryant et al. 2023; Graham et al. 2023; Martin et al. 2023). While relying on participants’ memories of sexuality education introduces potential limitations, eliciting the perspectives of current young people is valuable. They can provide reflections on both their in-school and out-of-school sexual experiences, engage in critical self-reflection, and what they consider essential knowledge. Some participants in this study, particularly cisgender men, raised concerns about the challenges of involving boys in sexuality education and emphasised the importance of developing empathy-related skills. While the data from cisgender men was limited due to the very small number of participants (n = 2), it highlights the importance of including boys in future qualitative work to ensure that research acknowledges and recognises their role in sexual violence prevention. This approach is crucial for challenging persisting norms of harmful masculinity that portray men as sexual aggressors and pursuers (see Flood 2020; Hayes, Burns, and Egan 2024).

This study used a qualitative approach to explore the nuanced perspectives of young adults across Australia using interviews. While some prior research has investigated student viewpoints using interviews (e.g. Hayes, Burns, and Egan 2024), less attention has been given to young adults’ retrospective reflections. Existing studies in this area have often involved larger samples of participants aged between 16 and 20 (e.g. Graham et al. 2023; Grant and Nash 2019) or focused on specific demographic groups (e.g. Daina, Lynch, and Joosten 2023), making this study unique in its focus and scope. By centring the voices of young people in sexual violence prevention strategies, this study adds further nuance to the literature, particularly in highlighting the prevalence of fear-based approaches in Australian sexuality education.

Conclusion

This research contributes to scholarship on sexuality education and sexual violence prevention by promoting the voices and experiences of young people. Young adults in this study were largely disappointed with the sexuality education they received, highlighting its emphasis on risk-reduction and simple information dissemination (which was often shaped by conservative and/or heteronormative values). This narrow approach left significant gaps in their understandings of sexuality and sexual health. Instead, the participants called for a more comprehensive sexuality education that would equip young people with practical skills to navigate sexual experiences. These values are in line with previous research and best-practice frameworks which signal how good quality sexuality education can empower young people to uphold their sexual human rights and make choices that promote the wellbeing of themselves and others, which are key steps in the prevention of sexual violence (Goldfarb and Lieberman 2021; UNESCO 2018).

The participants in this study advocated for enhancements to school-based sexuality education with the aim of reducing sexual violence among young people. Their voices stressed the need for skills-building, the inclusion of diverse perspectives, and an understanding of sexuality that goes beyond risk reduction. The research contributes to the evidence base on young people’s perspectives and also carries practical implications for educational government departments, educators, and stakeholders involved in shaping sexuality education and sexual violence prevention initiatives.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

The first author was supported by an Australian Government Research Training Programme Scholarship.

Notes

1. The term unwanted sex reflects sexual experiences that may not necessarily fit within the legal framework of rape or sexual assault but are nonetheless acts of non-consent (Powell 2010). These may be experiences that are influenced by various social norms, expectations or unwritten rules that impact how young people navigate consent and sex (Powell 2010).

2. A comprehensive sexuality education should not focus solely on the prevention of risks and harm. Rather, providing young people with access to information that facilitates their sexual agency and ability to make autonomous decisions should be recognised as a human right (see Marson 2021).