Across literature, television, film, and music, a striking visual motif has emerged in contemporary popular culture: women depicted on all fours, often in explicitly sexualized or submissive contexts. What might once have remained confined to niche fetish aesthetics has increasingly moved into mainstream entertainment, sparking intense public debate about whether these portrayals represent liberation, objectification, irony, or a troubling cultural regression.
The trend has appeared in some of the most widely discussed cultural releases of recent years. In the bestselling novel A cuatro patas by Miranda July, the posture is framed as a source of physical and emotional stability rather than weakness. “Everyone thinks doggy style is vulnerable, but actually it’s the most stable posture,” the narrator reflects. “Like a table.” The image has also surfaced prominently on screen. In the latest season of Euphoria, actress Sydney Sweeney portrays a character who adopts dog-like sexual performances through OnlyFans content in an effort to finance an extravagant wedding. Meanwhile, a new adaptation of Wuthering Heights directed by Emerald Fennell has generated controversy for depicting Isabella, played by Alison Oliver, in scenes involving leashes, submission, and explicit humiliation.
The recurrence of these images across otherwise unrelated projects has triggered a broader cultural reckoning. Critics, academics, and feminists are now debating whether these depictions are signs of renewed sexual openness or evidence of a deeper conservative backlash disguised as liberation. According to reporting and analysis published by El País, the controversy reflects growing anxiety over how female sexuality is being reframed in a moment of political polarization and intensified online culture wars.
The debate intensified further when pop singer Sabrina Carpenter appeared on the cover of her album Man’s Best Friend posed on all fours while someone pulled her hair. The image immediately ignited social media outrage. Some critics accused the singer of glamorizing submission and reinforcing patriarchal fantasies, while supporters argued that the backlash itself reflected discomfort with women expressing sexuality outside socially approved boundaries. Carpenter defended the imagery by describing it as an exploration of power and control, arguing that awareness of vulnerability can itself become a form of agency.
For many feminist scholars, however, the repeated use of these visual codes cannot be separated from broader political currents. Andrea García-Santesmases Fernández, author of Un nuevo contrato sexual, argues that the posture evokes centuries-old associations between women, animals, instinct, and irrationality. In her interpretation, the resurgence of such imagery coincides with a wider conservative reaction against gender equality advances. She contends that while women involved in these projects may feel empowered individually, the cultural symbolism still reinforces longstanding structures that eroticize female submission.
This tension lies at the center of the current argument. Some commentators view these portrayals as examples of postfeminist culture, where empowerment is framed primarily through individual choice and sexual self-display. In this framework, women are encouraged to monetize or weaponize their desirability while broader questions about structural inequality fade into the background. García-Santesmases points specifically to Euphoria’s portrayal of Sweeney’s character as embodying this contradiction: a woman who appears both sexually autonomous and trapped within a system where her value is defined by male desire and economic performance.
Others reject the idea that these images should automatically be interpreted as degradation. Journalist and author Noemí López Trujillo argues that public outrage toward sexually explicit portrayals of women reflects an increasingly conservative cultural climate in which pleasure itself is treated with suspicion. She suggests contemporary society has become obsessed with moderation, hygiene, and emotional safety to the point where erotic excess is now framed as dangerous or morally suspect. In her view, reactions to films like Wuthering Heights or series like Euphoria reveal discomfort not simply with submission, but with female desire that appears excessive, theatrical, or uncontrolled.
At the same time, even some defenders of sexual experimentation express concern about how non-traditional sexual practices are represented in mainstream narratives. Critics note that fictional women engaging in BDSM or submissive fantasies are frequently portrayed as emotionally damaged, traumatized, or psychologically unstable. This framing, they argue, reinforces stereotypes that equate unconventional sexuality with pathology. López Trujillo points out that many mainstream audiences continue to interpret alternative sexual practices through a heteronormative lens that assumes such behavior must emerge from dysfunction rather than mutual pleasure or consensual exploration.
Consent itself has become another central point of contention. In Fennell’s adaptation of Wuthering Heights, Isabella verbally agrees to degrading treatment from Heathcliff, a creative decision some scholars argue serves to soften or legitimize abusive dynamics. García-Santesmases contends that contemporary culture increasingly uses explicit consent not only as a legal boundary but as a moral and political shield, transforming relationships that would otherwise appear clearly exploitative into supposedly acceptable expressions of freedom. She argues that this emphasis on consent can obscure deeper questions about power, social conditioning, and emotional coercion.
Social educator Marina Marroquí sees the issue as part of a broader media ecosystem in which entertainment and social platforms reinforce each other. She argues that younger audiences are simultaneously exposed to hypersexualized imagery in music, television, and film while receiving constant messages online about monetizing desirability through platforms such as OnlyFans. According to Marroquí, this convergence normalizes the idea that women gain validation through increasingly performative forms of submission marketed as empowerment.
Yet others caution against reducing all sexualized imagery to patriarchal service. Supporters of artists like Sabrina Carpenter insist that irony, self-awareness, and playfulness are often ignored in public debate. They argue that hypersexual performance can also function as parody or critique, complicating simplistic readings of submission as inherently oppressive. In this interpretation, adopting exaggerated sexual archetypes becomes a way of destabilizing them rather than endorsing them outright.
Underlying the controversy is a deeper struggle over how feminism itself is evolving in the digital age. Contemporary culture increasingly blurs the line between empowerment and commodification, especially in environments shaped by algorithms, influencer economies, and constant visual consumption. Images once considered transgressive now circulate instantly across platforms where their meanings are fragmented, politicized, and commercialized simultaneously.
El País notes that the current fascination with women depicted “on all fours” reflects more than a passing aesthetic trend. It exposes unresolved tensions about sexuality, agency, violence, and representation at a moment when debates over gender identity and women’s rights are becoming increasingly polarized worldwide. Whether interpreted as freedom, fantasy, provocation, or submission, these images are forcing audiences to confront uncomfortable questions about what modern empowerment actually looks like — and who ultimately defines it.
