The Sex Lives of Te Herenga Waka Students

If you’re reading this, chances are you’re an undergraduate domestic student, and in a committed relationship. You likely first had sex at sixteen or seventeen, have had between two and four lifetime partners, and one in the past year. You’ve had sex while enrolled at Te Herenga Waka. 

You’ve probably never been tested for an STI, feel only somewhat confident navigating sexual health services, watch pornography occasionally, and believe it’s influenced your expectations of sex in both good and bad ways. You meet partners through mutual friends. It happens late at night. You talk about it often. Statistically speaking, this is you.

A total of 508 students completed Salient’s first survey dedicated to the sex lives of Te Herenga Waka students—the first of its kind, at least in the magazine’s recent memory. The survey was intentionally broad, designed to capture a general snapshot rather than drill into specific communities or experiences. 

Who Completed the Census? 

The survey was completed predominantly by domestic students in their second and third year of study, with the largest age group clustered at eighteen to nineteen years old. Women made up the clear majority of respondents, and heterosexuality was the most common sexual orientation reported, closely followed by bisexuality. Most respondents described themselves as being in a committed relationship at the time of the survey.

Across year levels, upper-year students were more represented than first-years, suggesting stronger engagement from students who have spent longer at the university. 

In short, the survey skews toward young, domestic, undergraduate women in ongoing relationships—a snapshot that shapes the sexual attitudes and behaviours reflected throughout the results.

Relationships and Dating 

Most respondents report being in a committed relationship. Casual arrangements are present, but they do not outweigh students who describe themselves as partnered. The responses therefore skew towards stability rather than casual dating.

Gender Trends

Women make up the majority of respondents and are the group most likely to report being in committed relationships. Men are comparatively more represented in single or casual categories than women, though committed relationships remain the most common status across genders overall.

Respondents who identify as nonbinary or gender-diverse represent a smaller share of the dataset. Within this group, relationship statuses are more evenly distributed across committed, casual, and single categories rather than clustering strongly in one. Unlike women—who trend clearly toward committed relationships—nonbinary respondents show a more varied spread. 

Sexuality Trends

Heterosexual students make up the largest share of respondents, and within this group, committed relationships are the most common relationship status.

Among LGBTQ+ respondents (including bisexual, gay, lesbian, and other identities), relationship categories are more evenly distributed. LGBTQ+ students are proportionally more represented in casual or undefined relationship categories compared to heterosexual respondents. That said, committed relationships are present across all sexuality categories.

This distribution suggests that heterosexual students in this survey trend more strongly toward conventional, defined partnerships, while LGBTQ+ respondents report more varied relational structures.

At the same time, the presence of casual arrangements across genders and sexualities indicates diversity in dating structures. The broader trend points toward something less sensational than stereotypes might suggest: students are dating, many are partnered, and relative stability is the prevailing pattern.

Sex and Sexual Experiences 

Sex Trends

Across the responses, the most common amount of lifetime partners is two to four. When those become averages, women report about 4.5 lifetime partners, men about 4.9. Non-binary respondents sit higher, at roughly 5.4, and gender-diverse respondents higher again, at just over 7. 

The gap between men and women is smaller than stereotype would suggest; the more visible difference appears between binary and gender-diverse respondents. But it should also be noted that this survey had a much smaller pool of gender-diverse respondents. 

Sexuality shows a clearer divide. Heterosexual respondents report an average of roughly 3.9 lifetime partners. LGBTQ+ respondents report closer to 5.4. 

Age, more than identity, explains the sharpest climb. Eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds cluster tightly in the one-to-four lifetime range. Each older bracket steps up incrementally. By twenty-four and over, respondents report the highest lifetime averages in the survey.

But “lifetime” in this survey is relative. The data skews young: the largest age group is eighteen to nineteen, followed closely by students in their early twenties. For many respondents, “lifetime” spans only a handful of post-high-school years. These are compressed timelines. The averages reflect that.

When the lens narrows to the past twelve months, the numbers compress further. Women average roughly 1.6 partners in the last year. Men, about 1.7. Non-binary respondents approach 1.9. Gender-diverse respondents report the highest recent average, around 2.4. LGBTQ+ respondents sit slightly above heterosexual respondents (about 1.8 compared to 1.6), but most groups converge tightly around one to two partners.

The survey’s question on types of sex engaged in adds texture to those numbers. Oral sex is the most commonly reported experience overall (405 respondents), followed closely by vaginal sex (378), with mutual masturbation (312) and digital sex (224) also widely selected. Anal sex appears in 121 responses—present, but not dominant. The pattern suggests breadth: students report engaging in multiple forms of sex rather than centring everything on a single act. 

Among heterosexual men, oral sex remains highly reported—closely tracking vaginal sex—indicating that it is a routine part of heterosexual encounters. Among heterosexual women, oral sex is also widely selected, again nearly parallel with vaginal sex. Bisexual women report particularly high rates of oral sex relative to vaginal sex, with a more even distribution across oral, mutual masturbation, and digital sex than heterosexual women. Lesbian respondents report oral and mutual masturbation at far higher rates than vaginal sex, while gay male respondents report high rates of oral sex alongside anal sex, though oral still appears more frequently overall. Across non-binary and gender-diverse respondents, the distribution is more evenly spread across oral, digital, and mutual forms, with less concentration on any single act.

The Zeros

Before we get any further into averages and trends, it’s worth pausing on something written in the final comments section. One anonymous respondent said that “...sometimes Salient has been so sex-positive the articles have come across as judgemental towards those that haven’t (which could be for any reason).” And: “In the article please include how it is normal to never have had sex.”

It’s an uncomfortable request to read back—not because it’s unreasonable, but because it suggests that a survey about sex still carries assumptions about who is participating.

Eighty-one respondents of this survey selected “I haven’t had sex” when asked about the age of their first sexual experience. In the last twelve months, one hundred and one respondents reported having no sexual partners at all. 

One respondent wrote: “I’m a virgin at 20 years old, which can sometimes feel difficult due to social ‘norms.’ When I hear about people who lost their virginity at a very young age, I feel a mix of wishing I had already experienced it, but also feeling glad that I haven’t yet. I want my first time to be meaningful, even though I sometimes have urges to hook up. I haven’t acted on those urges, and it can be hard when most people around me are sexually active. I’m very sex-positive, and being able to talk openly about this with friends makes me feel safe and unashamed.”

Sex is common in this dataset—most respondents report having had it while enrolled—but it is not universal. Roughly one in five respondents report no sexual partners in the past year. A visible minority reports none, ever. The statistical centre may sit around two to four lifetime partners and one in the last twelve months, but the dataset contains a substantial cohort at zero.

The survey maps participation, yes—but it also maps absence. And the absence is not deviant, delayed, or deficient. It is part of the same range of normal.

STI Testing

If there is a red flag in the survey, it isn’t hidden in partner counts or porn habits. It’s here.

Nearly half of sexually active respondents—57.3 percent—report that they have never been tested for an STI. Sex, in this dataset, is common. Seventy-six percent of respondents say they’ve had sex while enrolled. Most report at least one partner in the last twelve months. But testing does not scale alongside activity. 

Among those who are sexually active, 22.2 percent report testing within the last six months. Another 15.5 percent within the last year. Fourteen percent say it’s been more than a year. And then there is the largest single category: never.

The gender breakdown sharpens the pattern. Among sexually active men, 58.4 percent report never having been tested—the highest “never” rate in the dataset. Women sit lower, but not comfortably so: 47 percent of sexually active women report never testing. Gender-diverse respondents report the strongest engagement with testing, with only 29.2 percent saying they have never been screened and higher proportions reporting recent tests.

The sexuality divide follows a similar structure. Among heterosexual respondents, 55 percent report never being tested. Among LGBTQ+ respondents, that number drops to 44.6 percent. The difference is consistent. LGBTQ+ respondents in this dataset are more likely to report having accessed testing—and more likely to report having done so recently. It’s one of the clearest disparities in the entire survey.

What the above data does not show is universal precaution tied neatly to higher partner counts. Gender-diverse respondents report the highest average lifetime partners in the dataset (approximately 7.08), yet only 29.2 percent of sexually active gender-diverse respondents report never having been tested for an STI—the lowest “never tested” rate of any gender group. Non-binary respondents report an average of approximately 5.4 lifetime partners, with around 41 percent of sexually active non-binary respondents reporting never testing.

Meanwhile, sexually active men report a lower average lifetime partner count (approximately 4.9) than both non-binary and gender-diverse respondents—yet 58.4 percent of sexually active men report never having been tested, the highest non-testing rate in the dataset. Women report an average of approximately 4.5 lifetime partners, with 47.0 percent never tested. Heterosexual respondents overall report lower lifetime averages (approximately 3.89) but a 55.0 percent never-tested rate, compared to LGBTQ+ respondents, who report higher lifetime averages (approximately 5.36) and a lower 44.6 percent never-tested rate.

In other words, higher reported partner counts do not correspond to lower testing rates. In this survey, some of the groups reporting more lifetime partners are also the ones reporting stronger engagement with STI screening, while the highest “never tested” figure belongs to sexually active men—not the group with the highest partner averages.

From a clinical perspective, Mauri Ora, when asked for comment by Salient, says the implications are straightforward. Undiagnosed STIs can continue to spread, particularly because many infections are asymptomatic. Left untreated, some can lead to long-term complications such as pelvic inflammatory disease and potential infertility. Most STIs are treatable, they emphasise—but only if they are detected.

The confidence gap may help explain the testing gap. The majority of respondents describe themselves as only “somewhat confident” accessing sexual health services. Mauri Ora notes that barriers can include difficulty finding information online, confusion about which service or clinician to see, language and cultural barriers, financial concerns, and stigma or privacy worries. A lack of symptoms can also create false reassurance. Common misconceptions include assuming that feeling fine means no need for testing, believing infections like syphilis or HIV “don’t apply” to them, or thinking a test immediately after exposure is definitive despite window periods that require follow-up.

Best-practice testing, they say, depends on circumstances—but is generally encouraged for those with symptoms, contacts of someone diagnosed with an STI, during pregnancy, before IUD insertion for those at higher risk, after a change in sexual partner, routinely for sexually active people under 30, every three months for men who have sex with men, after non-consensual sexual encounters, or whenever a patient requests a test.

The nursing team at Mauri Ora can independently test and treat many STIs, with appointments typically available within a week and same-day options for urgent care such as emergency contraception or PEP. If a student wants an STI check, the advice is simple: book a nurse appointment.

Pornography

The most common age of first exposure to pornography in the dataset is under 13. A further large share report first seeing porn between 13 and 15. Only a small minority report first exposure at 18 or older. In other words, for most respondents who have seen pornography, it entered their lives before they were legally adults—often well before.

Porn use itself is common but not universal. 59.3 percent of respondents report watching pornography, while 40.7 percent say they do not. Among those who do watch, the pattern skews toward moderate frequency rather than daily use. The largest groups report watching weekly or a few times a week, followed closely by those who say they watch rarely or monthly. Only a small minority report daily viewing. The dataset suggests porn is embedded in student life—but not necessarily compulsively so.

The gender differences are pronounced. Among men, 80.9 percent report watching pornography—more than four in five. Among women, that figure drops to 47.9 percent, just under half. Non-binary respondents report consumption at 64.7 percent, and gender-diverse respondents at 68.8 percent, placing them between men and women, but closer to men overall. The gap between men and women is one of the clearest divides in this section of the survey.

By sexuality, the difference is more subtle. 61.5 percent of LGBTQ+ respondents report watching pornography, compared to 54.8 percent of heterosexual respondents. The gap is measurable but not dramatic. Porn consumption, in this dataset, crosses identity categories—even if the rate and frequency vary.

One piece of feedback complicates the framing. An anonymous respondent noted that they “consider reading porn to be different to watching porn” and suggested it could have been an interesting category to include, adding that they consume more written porn and began reading it between 13 and 15. Another reinforced this distinction: “I am not much for video based porn so my expectations surrounding sex were definitely influenced by things I had read rather than watched!” It’s a fair critique.

The survey used the term “watch” deliberately, in part because we were interested in the visual and internet-driven forms of pornography most commonly associated with contemporary discourse. But that wording may have flattened distinctions between mediums—particularly for students who engage more with written or audio erotica. It’s a gap worth acknowledging, and one we plan to explore more deliberately in future surveys.

Perhaps the most revealing finding is not how often students watch porn, but how they interpret its impact. When asked whether pornography has influenced their expectations of sex, the most common response is ambivalent: both positively and negatively. That answer outpaces those who say it had no effect, or that it influenced them only negatively or only positively. Students do not describe porn in binary terms. They recognise its presence and its influence, but they frame that influence as complicated.

Across gender and sexuality, two trends stand out. First, men—particularly heterosexual men—are the most likely to consume porn and the most likely to describe its influence as either mixed or negligible rather than outright negative. Second, women, LGBTQ+ respondents, and gender-diverse students are more likely to acknowledge impact—and more likely to identify negative elements within that impact.

The “Fun” Stuff

The clearest through-line is that student sexuality is social before it is digital. While dating apps are firmly embedded—a third of respondents report meeting sexual partners through them—the most common answer by a wide margin is mutual friends. Sex, in this dataset, still travels through flat dinners, shared lectures, group chats, and overlapping social circles. Apps matter, but the friend-of-a-friend pipeline remains stronger.

Timing is equally predictable, and quietly funny. Just under half of respondents report having sex late at night, with another 40 percent selecting evening. Morning and afternoon barely register. The campus sex life, statistically speaking, is nocturnal. It happens after assignments are submitted, after the party, after the Uber home. Very little of it appears to happen before noon.

Students also talk about it—and they talk about it a lot. Among sexually active respondents, 44.3 percent say they discuss sex with friends often, and another 40.2 percent say they do so sometimes. Only 10.9 percent report talking about it rarely, and just 4.7 percent say they never discuss it with friends.

Conclusion

The survey does not depict a campus in the midst of hookup culture. It shows moderation. Most students are having sex, many within relationships, and partner counts are far less dramatic than stereotypes would suggest. The numbers point to something steady, social, and mostly ordinary.

What stands out instead is the gap between sexual activity and sexual healthcare. Nearly half of sexually active respondents report never having been tested for an STI. Most describe themselves as only “somewhat confident” accessing sexual health services. The imbalance is not in how much sex students are having—it is in how supported they feel navigating the systems designed to look after them.

Mauri Ora’s message is clear: testing is available, nurse appointments can often be booked within a week, and most STIs are treatable if detected early. The services exist. The question the survey leaves hanging is not whether students are sexually active, but whether they feel confident enough to make routine care part of that normal.