Revisiting Sherlock as an Aspec Adult - Part 2

Image description: A promo image for the second season of BBC's Sherlock. In my last post, I began my analysis of the series as an aspec adult, a project I continue in today's post. Let's continue our discussion about the good, the bad, and the ugly of this Sherlock Holmes based show.

In my last post, I began a large undertaking – revisiting the BBC series Sherlock, a modern-day Sherlock Holmes adaptation, as an aspec adult. As a teenager, the show was deeply important to me and its fandom offered my first introduction to asexuality as a concept, due in large part to the aspec vibes presented by Sherlock himself. It’s been years since I’ve watched the series in its totality, and I decided it would be an interesting experience to revisit it and analyze it through my aspec lens now that it’s had some time to mature and develop.

If you haven’t read that first post, I highly recommend reading it before continuing with this one. In it, I give some background on the show and the titular character, detailing how the show quite frequently teased Sherlock not being straight only to struggle with committing to the idea, as well as explore some of co-creator Steven Moffat’s problematic views on asexuality. These things are only the tip of the iceberg, however, and today I’d like to discuss how I feel the show does a disservice to Sherlock and the characters around him by falling into the same worn-out tropes.

If the first post established a baseline, this post will get more into the nitty-gritty of the good, the bad, and the ugly of the show’s representation – or lack thereof. The show isn’t perfect, and there are definite problems with these elements, especially in later seasons, so I’d like to take an unflinching look at where the potential aspec vibes of Sherlock as a character were wasted and sometimes even erased, and where I think things could have been better. So I hope you’ll join me for part 2 as I seek to fully answer the question of what I think of Sherlock nowadays.

Spoiler warning! 

Sherlock (all episodes and seasons)

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Sherlock and “Other” Relationships

In the first post, I discussed the prevalence of fans (my teen-self included) shipping Sherlock and John, and many of the queercoding moments that made this feel so effortless. Whether romantic or platonic, it’s clear that his bond with John is deeply important to Sherlock and his development. However, this isn’t the only important relationship in Sherlock’s life. Although anti-social and standoffish, he has several important long-standing bonds, and personally, one of my favorite arcs of the show is how these bonds deepen.

Recently, I complained about the dangers of using sexualization to flesh out a character rather than actual character growth and development. Sherlock, however, is a great example of how a character’s growth can be honored, showing how he comes to cherish his friends more completely, thanks to John being there to understand, support, and often teach him. Here, the deepening of Sherlock’s character comes from actual character moments, and the work of writing these relationships well. However, he’s also a weird example of this phenomenon too, because there are also some instances of bland sexualization present in his character right alongside the actual character development.

Despite these many great and formative friendships/familial relationships, many of the characters – and those involved in the show’s production – seemed especially interested in Sherlock’s romantic entanglements. Thus, the idea of whether or not there are any such entanglements is a repeated motif throughout the series, especially later. This is where, in my opinion, we get into the most problems, not only because many of these characters are original to the series, but because it tends to divert most strongly from the Sherlock Holmes canon (more on that later).

In the first episode, Sherlock states that “women aren’t really [his] area,” expanding on the statement that relationships are dull. Throughout the rest of the series, Sherlock not only continually doubles down on this sentiment, but also seems to either not understand sexual references or completely disregard them. While the idea that aspec people don’t understand sex can be an annoying stereotype in media, it’s also routinely used as a shorthand for the audience to understand this fact about the character.

The idea of not understanding sex – or worse, being seen as prudish about it – is actually brought up. In “A Scandal in Belgravia,” when introduced to the idea of Irene Adler being a dominatrix, there is an interesting exchange between Sherlock and his brother Mycroft. When discussing the matter, Mycroft says “Don’t be alarmed, it’s to do with sex,” to which Sherlock tersely replies, “Sex doesn’t alarm me.” The way this remark irks Sherlock feels very telling, as if all his life he has ignored or disregarded sex, and as a result has been ridicule for it, which feels very significant from an aspec lens. Additionally, Mycroft’s retort to this is “How would you know?” While this could just be a jab (a needlessly cruel one, at that), it seems like it’s actually pointing to the truth of the matter that Sherlock has never had sex.

However, despite these things, that doesn’t stop the show from repeatedly playing with the idea of Sherlock and romance. Sometimes this is done through showing that women have a crush on him, as is the case with original character Molly Hooper, which is honestly something I don’t mind. In fact, the interactions between Sherlock and Molly become quite sweet and humanize Sherlock a great deal in ways that could have become cringeworthy but are often played well. She is one of the people Sherlock comes to value in a way that I believe is great characterization. 

Image description: Molly and Sherlock in season three

Other times, it’s a bit more problematic and therefore more disappointing, such as in his relationship with Jeanine, one of the bridesmaids at John and Mary’s wedding. Jeanine shows obvious interest in Sherlock to the point that it becomes something of a running joke throughout the episode and she wishes he wasn’t the way he is so they could be together, but also seems to acknowledge that she knows it’s impossible. They strike up an odd couple friendship, Sherlock using his deductive powers to try and let her know which of the men at the wedding might be available for her. Therefore, it’s played for maximum shock value when it seems that Sherlock and Jeanine have a romantic relationship in the next episode.

We soon learn that Sherlock is using Jeanine to get close to the villain of season three – Charles Augustus Magnussen, as she is the man’s secretary. However, this doesn’t come out until much later in the episode, leading to a scene which, although played for laughs, is very telling. When John finds out that Sherlock is supposedly dating Jeanine, he is hilariously shocked and almost appalled to see Sherlock engaging in such behavior as cuddling or kissing his fake girlfriend. This is interesting to me because we see later in the series how frequently people try to push Sherlock towards more “normal” relationships, and yet when he’s supposedly in one, it’s too bizarre for even his closest friend to comprehend.

I often wonder why Sherlock’s sex life – or lack of one – was such a topic of interest for people, but sadly, this is nothing new. Characters that lack emotion or are highly logical often seem to be romanticized and even fetishized by people, and in this particular adaptation, this is actually done in-universe, perhaps in reference to it happening out of universe. Throughout the show, Sherlock’s dating life is often the subject of press attention and fan speculation, not dissimilar to what often happened in real life. For instance, when Jeanine finds out Sherlock was only using her, she takes her revenge by selling stories about their fictional sex life to the clearly-eager press. In the previous season, reporter Kitty Reiley likewise seems eager for details on Sherlock’s romantic entanglements, wondering specifically if he and John are “just platonic.”

In-universe fans are also massive shippers, again, probably in reference to the real-life fandom. This is mostly seen in season three, when Anderson, one of the members of the police force, starts a club for people who believe Sherlock faked his own death. Not only is one of the fangirls there a Sherlock/Moriarty shipper, but Anderson himself seems to favor Sherlock/Molly, both of which are popular pairings in the actual fandom. And of course, as I mentioned in the first post, there are jokes or references in nearly every episode that imply Sherlock and John might be in a relationship, leading to a two-way street of media and fandom influencing one another. But the clearest example of the in-universe obsession with Sherlock’s dating life or lack thereof comes in season two, thanks to the real-life phenomenon of what might be one of the most nonsensical ships I’ve ever seen.

Let’s Talk About “Scandal”

As a teenager, my favorite episode of Sherlock was the season two opener “A Scandal in Belgravia.” Rewatching it as an adult, I still love it, and in some ways I actually find a lot of meaning and interest in how Sherlock is portrayed within it; but it’s also become clear to me that I interpret this episode very differently than most people do – and indeed, quite differently from how the show’s creators intended – in ways that are extremely frustrating for me.

The episode adapts the short story “A Scandal in Bohemia,” which centers on Sherlock Holmes trying to take back photographs from a woman named Irene Adler – photographs which would ruin the king of Bohemia’s reputation if she is ever allowed to publish them. Here, it’s a member of the British royal family whose reputation is on the line thanks to Irene, and in this modern adaptation, she’s not an opera singer with a notorious reputation, but a dominatrix for hire. When Sherlock tries to go get the pictures from her, he is shocked to not only be thrown off-balance by her tactics, but outsmarted and defeated by her methods. What follows is a strange game of cat and mouse, one that leads to a potentially fatal intrigue in one another, with plenty of twists and turns along the way.

Image description: Irene Adler, as she appears in the season two episode "A Scandal in Belgravia", portrayed by Lara Pulver

Right away, something that has always jumped out at me about “Scandal” is how off the mark it is adaptationally. Although it does perfectly modernize some elements of the story – such as Irene keeping the photos on her phone or the ploy Sherlock and John use to get her to reveal the location of the photos – there are other elements that baffle me, most notably that there is never any romantic tension between Holmes and Adler in the original story. In fact, not only do the two characters only interact once in the source material, but the story makes it explicitly clear that Holmes’s esteem for Adler has nothing to do with romantic feelings.

Compare this to the episode, where Irene flirts with Sherlock long after they’ve parted ways – even going so far as to change the text alert tone on his phone so that, whenever she texts him, the sound is her own voice giving a sigh of pleasure. This seems to bother John in particular, who keeps a running count of all the times he’s heard the text alert and asks if Sherlock ever replies. When John later encounters Irene himself, he’s shocked to know she’s flirting with Sherlock in these messages. Admittedly, it makes sense that John would be upset by this – because Irene is a dangerous woman and he can see the effect her schemes have had on Sherlock, particularly when he thinks she’s dead – but I think John’s concern for Sherlock actually goes beyond the obvious in ways that most people don’t seem to acknowledge when analyzing the episode.

Many of the things Sherlock does with Irene are not unique – in fact, this is directly pointed out when John lists the things Sherlock has been doing since Irene’s presumed “death,” stating that he’d say Sherlock was heartbroken, but the man does all those things anyway, leaving it completely ambiguous as to how he feels. Likewise, Sherlock’s clear desire to impress Irene with his deductions is a regular trait, due to his almighty belief in his intellect. This and many other things that the characters and the creators themselves point to as examples of his romantic/sexual infatuation with Irene don’t strike me as accurate.

Both Sherlock’s actor Benedict Cumberbatch and the show’s creator Steven Moffat believe that Sherlock did actually have feelings for - and even a sexual relationship with - Irene, which I find equal parts frustrating, confusing, and problematic. Due to the nature of Irene’s job, she admits to having sex with both genders, but she clearly states that women are not just her preference, but that she identifies as gay. Although the entire point of the episode and her interactions with Sherlock make it clear that she’s drawn to him despite this fact, the notion that these two are simply “so attracted” to one another that it breaks through Irene’s stated identity and Sherlock’s presumed one is absurd to me, and rife with erasure for both characters.

I have to wonder why the creators seem to find it so upsetting that people might see Sherlock as aspec and I believe there are two possible answers. The first is due to aphobic tropes and the second is likely because this iteration of Sherlock is seen as attractive. These two combined make it seem like Sherlock being aspec would be unpleasant and unattractive, not a character anyone involved with the show would want to write, portray, or watch, which is extremely unfortunate. I think Moffat’s infamous quote about Sherlock’s aspec tendencies and how they would not be “interesting” somewhat points to this; it’s as if Sherlock can have as many other flaws as possible, but being non-sexual is considered a “flaw” that can’t be overcome.

Admittedly, Moffat’s opinion may have its basis in the original stories, where Holmes is described as deliberately not allowing emotions, especially love, to cloud his judgment and reason. However, as my last post established, there are plenty of times where the show goes out of its way to acecode Sherlock, and then tries to hide behind Arthur Conan Doyle’s original characterization of Holmes in this particular instance while ignoring it in others. I think this is because aphobic tropes have contributed to the idea that Sherlock being aspec would be some sort of problematic anti-characterization, and that having a relationship is a sign of how interesting, worldly, and developed this character is/can become, all of which are of course not dependent on sex or romance at all.

Image description: A season two promo image of Sherlock and Irene

Ironically enough given the context, I actually feel “Scandal” gives me some of the most aspec vibes for Sherlock, especially in John’s repeated assertions that Sherlock doesn’t feel the way for people that other characters like Mycroft are assuming he might. Thus, if Irene’s interactions with Sherlock were left here, I would be completely content, but many of these issues actually get worse later in the series. Although Irene never shows up again per se, she is mentioned a few different times in the narrative, and these problematic instances are, ironically enough, brought up by John – the very man who is often responsible for the ways Sherlock is queercoded and/or acecoded.

The most frustrating of Irene’s reappearances comes in the penultimate episode of the series, in which John discovers Irene is still in contact with Sherlock and encourages him to pursue a relationship with her. Sherlock objects to this, stating “As I think I have explained to you many times before, romantic entanglements, while fulfilling for other people-” and before he can finish, John retorts “would complete you as a human being.” Sherlock’s response is excellent and he immediately says “That doesn’t even mean anything,” but the fact that this interaction happens at all is deeply frustrating.

I think what annoys me most about this interaction is that it’s coming from Sherlock’s closest friend, the person who is described as knowing him “for real,” and is portrayed as coming the closest to understanding and accepting him as anyone has. For John – the man who once told him “it’s all fine” and who gave the eulogy at Sherlock’s grave stating he was the “most human human being” – to tell him that a relationship would complete him as a human being is, in my opinion, not only an affront to Sherlock’s character, but an affront to John’s as well. Although it seems like John is largely projecting his own emotions onto the situation, I still vehemently dislike this scene primarily because having John as the one saying these things adds a weird level of credence to them.

Of course, Sherlock doesn’t end up in a relationship with Irene, so the conversation doesn’t really lead anywhere concretely. In that sense, the series at least deserves some praise for not actually having Sherlock overtly take John’s advice and go seek out Irene or some other companion, like I’ve seen happen to many other aspec-adjacent characters. However, the fact that it’s even brought up at all is problematic, especially when we consider both Moffat’s attitudes on Irene/Sherlock as a couple and his attitudes on asexuality, because it feels like an attempt to discredit any acecoding or queercoding.

Again, although John is largely projecting, this declaration doesn’t even make sense when we consider how scandalized (no pun intended) John is during other quasi-relationships or fake romantic schemes. Remember, it was John, not Sherlock, who was upset by Irene’s insistent texting – and her text alert tone. While it seems like this is because he doesn’t want Sherlock to get his heart broken by this dangerous woman, that actually makes the entire thing make less sense. Why would he want to steer Sherlock towards her now? Similarly, John is not merely surprised when he thinks Sherlock is dating Jeanine, but actively shaken by the idea. So again, why is a relationship supposedly so necessary now?

The Sherlock/Irene issue is a complex one – and one that is present in an absurd amount of Sherlock Holmes related media, so I can’t put the blame entirely on this particular show. However, I do believe it’s worse in this iteration thanks in large part to the dangers of fanservice. I’ve frequently discussed how media often falls into the trap of being influenced by its fans. This isn’t always a bad thing, and it can be extremely rewarding for a fan of a particular piece of media to be seen and recognized by it. But a piece of media being influenced by its fans always has the potential to go awry. In the case of a show like Sherlock, the dangers of fanservice also became especially pronounced, not just due to the prevalence of shipping, but also because of fan interest specifically centering on Benedict Cumberbatch.

Benedict becoming a heartthrob doubtless influenced the way the character was portrayed in subsequent seasons and how other characters interacted with him. Sometimes, this was relatively benign, but in other cases I believe fanservice influenced these relationships and made it difficult for Sherlock to be conceptualized as an aspec character. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with admiring a character or an actor, and while fanservice isn’t really my thing for obvious reasons, there’s not even anything wrong with certain types of fanservice when done well. However, when it stands in the way of potential representation or when it contributes to erasure, that’s when it becomes frustrating to me. This is especially true for a character like Sherlock, who I believe could have given us valuable lessons about what it means to not be “normal.”

Sherlock and Being Different

Image description: A promo image of Sherlock

I’ve talked a lot about Sherlock potentially being acecoded and/or queercoded, and how these ambiguous instances create a general picture that Sherlock, whatever he is, is different. Of course, that’s an inherent part of the character, and one of the many reasons why Sherlock Holmes is enduringly popular is because he’s unusual – in fact, I almost included him in my previous “Characters Who Aren’t Normal” post. Therefore, it’s not surprising or even particularly revolutionary that Sherlock would include this element of his character. But in this particular iteration, I feel it goes a few steps further.

One of the first places this jumped out at me was the season three episode “His Last Vow,” which features the repugnant villain Charles Augustus Magnussen. Magnussen is a media mogul who uses his considerable power, wealth, and intelligence to blackmail and torment people. He cares very little for whether what he reports is factual or not, just that people believe it enough to destroy his victims. While Sherlock openly feared and reviled Moriarty, his disgust for Magnussen is markedly different, and he explicitly states he hates the man because he “preys on people who are different.” While Sherlock often doesn’t care about the victims of the crimes he investigates, his distaste for Magnussen and later villain Culverton Smith amply prove that he does in some instances. Especially in these cases, these men specifically destroy the vulnerable - people with whom Sherlock seems to empathize.

Benedict Cumberbatch once said that he deliberately played Sherlock a bit ambiguously so that he could potentially be interpreted as being on the autism spectrum. The idea of Sherlock being on this spectrum also comes up in the series itself, albeit in a somewhat glib manner when John says that having familiar faces around likely appeals to Sherlock’s Asperger’s – referencing Asperger’s Syndrome, a neurodevelopmental disorder that has now been merged into Autism Spectrum Disorder, but which is characterized by social difficulties not unlike the ones Sherlock is shown to have.

Thus, Sherlock might literally be different from other people insofar as being neurodivergent, which makes it even more gut-wrenching to hear him described as a freak or a weirdo, even before getting into the aspec parallels. When those things are added in, it becomes even easier to imagine that Sherlock has spent a lifetime being treated poorly for being different, and it adds color to the idea of him needing someone who understands him. In my first post, I mentioned that the relationship between John and Sherlock – however you choose to see it – is so poignant because it represents two people who truly see and understand one another.

As an aspec person, I value those ideas highly and am always praising relationships that showcase it. But it also deeply resonates with me whenever I see people fear losing those relationships, such as we see in “The Sign of Three.” The episode focuses on John and Mary’s wedding and ends with Sherlock deducing that Mary is pregnant. Although he promises to be there for all three of them and keep them safe, he knows the dynamic he enjoyed with John is about to change forever and wonders where his place is among that. Although that can take on an element of romantic tragedy for a shipper, it took on an even more profoundly tragic element for me as an aspec viewer. As someone who often feels like an outsider, I could relate to Sherlock’s fears, as I too often wonder if I’ll be left behind by the important people in my own life when they begin taking paths I cannot and will not follow down.

However, being an outsider is shown to be the thing that he needs to be, and the idea of Sherlock – and, by extension, John – as champion of the downtrodden is actually how the series ends. In a pre-recorded DVD, Mary describes them as the “last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted,” something which feels very authentic, because the best advocates for people who are different are often themselves very different. For as long and hard a road as it was to get there, letting Sherlock be Sherlock is where the show’s true impact really lies, and is the best way to celebrate the legacy of one of fiction’s most enduring characters.

Image description: John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, our defenders of the helpless.

So, in the end, watching Sherlock as an aspec adult is interesting. There are some elements I still wholeheartedly love and that divert from many of the problematic tropes I’m used to seeing; then there are other elements that are bitterly disappointing because they play into these very same tropes in ways that waste so much potential. There are still episodes I adore and still episodes I hate (I’m looking at you, all of season four). And honestly, there’s still so much I could discuss about this experience, one I’m very glad I took. While I’m choosing to end my full exploration here, I know I’ll be discussing the good, the bad, and the ugly of Sherlock again in various posts in future.

At the end of the day, does this show vex me? Yes. But do I still love it? I absolutely do. There are so many ways that my love of Sherlock is still present in my life, and no matter what, it was still deeply formative to me, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. In fact, there is a poem called “221b” by poet Vincent Starrett that I think sums my thoughts up perfectly. In writing about the famous literary detective and his loyal friend, Starrett remarks “Here dwell together still two men of note/Who never lived and so can never die/[…]/Here, though the world explode, these two survive/and it is always 1895.” For me, whatever happens, in at least one corner of my brain it will always be 2010 and these two will always survive, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.