“At the end of the market for spouses, men and women do not necessarily marry the type of person their initial preferences dictate: they marry the person who is both available and willing to be married to them.”
Have you ever thought about dating, sex, and marriage as a MARKET? Not in the sleazy way — but in the cold, calculated, supply-and-demand way that an economist would analyze any transaction?
That’s exactly what Marina Adshade does in Dollars and Sex. She takes the most intimate, emotional aspects of human life and runs them through the machinery of economic theory. And the results? Surprisingly compelling.
I picked this up because I’ve always been fascinated by the intersection of human behavior and economics. Books like Predictably Irrational and Freakonomics opened that door for me, and this one takes it into territory most economists are too polite to touch — the bedroom.
Economics and Reproductive Behavior
The relationship between micro- and macroeconomics relative to human habits is quite interesting. Various factors such as perceived market conditions and supply and demand on a social level have strong effects on our reproductive existences.
For example, during the economic collapse, divorce rates decreased to preserve a stable financial situation for many families. Think about that for a second. People weren’t staying together because they rediscovered love — they stayed because splitting up was too EXPENSIVE. The housing market crashed, nobody could sell their home, and suddenly that unhappy marriage became the financially rational choice.
Adshade is great at revealing these hidden economic forces behind decisions we think are purely emotional. We like to believe we marry for love, divorce out of heartbreak, and have kids when we “feel ready.” But the data tells a very different story. Money is pulling the strings behind almost every major relationship decision we make — whether we admit it or not.
The supply-and-demand factors for sex in college were particularly interesting when a male-to-female population difference occurs. When women outnumber men on a campus, the sexual culture shifts dramatically. Men gain bargaining power, commitment drops, and casual hookups increase. Flip the ratio, and suddenly men are buying flowers and asking about feelings. It’s basic economics applied to human mating — and it’s kind of hilarious how predictable we are.
Online Dating and Marriage
Then we have the statistics involved with online dating. By being provided a larger market for dating potential, relationships of higher quality have the potential to develop.
This makes intuitive sense. Before the internet, your dating pool was essentially your town, your workplace, and whoever your friends knew. Now? You have access to THOUSANDS of potential partners, filtered by whatever criteria matter to you. It’s like going from a corner shop to a global marketplace.
Varying data comes from marriage, which correlates heavily with education, income levels, and longevity between partners. Low-income individuals have a higher probability of divorcing (which correlates with lower levels of education), while the opposite holds for the other side.
This is one of those uncomfortable truths that people don’t like to talk about. We romanticize the idea that love conquers all, but statistically? Financial stability is one of the STRONGEST predictors of whether a marriage survives. Money doesn’t buy happiness, sure — but a lack of it is remarkably efficient at destroying relationships.
But then you have certain trade-offs made by partners, including a wealthy male who trades his assets with a wealthy female who trades her youth and beauty. This becomes more prominent in sex-tourism-centric countries, or even the online marriage markets. Adshade doesn’t moralize about this — she just lays out the economics of it. And honestly, that neutral, data-driven approach is what makes the book work. She lets you draw your own conclusions.
STDs and Monogamy
STDs have an interesting way of spreading when you have three different types of receivers coupled with someone who initiates sex. This includes a receiver who uses protection adamantly, a receiver who is neutral, and a receiver who prefers to avoid protection. Ultimately, two-thirds have a chance of propagating an STD if their partner is a carrier, and this will spread indefinitely.
The game theory behind STD transmission is actually fascinating when you strip away the squeamishness. Individual rational choices — “I probably won’t catch anything THIS time” — aggregate into massive public health consequences. It’s the tragedy of the commons, except the commons is your body. Our monkey-brains are terrible at calculating long-term risk when short-term reward is staring us in the face.
Then we have happiness statistics, which state that monogamous individuals have more sex and are generally happier in life than polygamous individuals. Not being on the dating market supports these statistics. Albeit, interestingly enough, women experience an orgasm 86% of the time with a new partner, compared to 50% of the time with an existing partner.
So what’s the takeaway here? Commitment wins on volume and overall satisfaction, but novelty has its own biological rewards. Adshade presents these findings without judgment, which I appreciate. She’s not telling you how to live — she’s showing you the data and letting you decide what to optimize for.
The Bigger Picture
What I found most valuable about this book is how it reframes decisions we consider deeply personal as economic ones. Every time you choose a partner, decide to have kids, or stay in (or leave) a relationship, you’re making a cost-benefit analysis — even if you don’t realize it.
Adshade draws from a massive range of data sources — historical trends, cross-country comparisons, campus studies, online dating statistics — and weaves them into a narrative that’s genuinely engaging. She writes like an economist who actually wants to be understood, which is rarer than you’d think.
If I had one criticism, it’s that some chapters lean a bit too heavily on the statistics without enough storytelling to carry the reader through. There are stretches where it reads more like a research paper than a popular book. But that’s a style preference, not a flaw in the content.
Final Thoughts
Ultimately, an informative book on sociology, economic theory, and a bit of anthropology. If you’re into behavioral economics, psychology, or just want to understand WHY humans make the relationship choices they do, this is a solid read.
It won’t change your love life overnight. But it WILL make you think twice about the invisible economic forces shaping your most intimate decisions. And sometimes, awareness is the most powerful tool you have.
3.5/5 — Recommended for fans of Freakonomics, Predictably Irrational, and anyone who isn’t afraid to look at love through a spreadsheet.
Thanks for reading.
— Leonidas
