A greater understanding of the impact of HIV treatment on
prevention is changing the experience of being in a relationship with a partner
of a different HIV status, according to a qualitative Australian study
published last week in the Sociology of
Health and Illness. A biomedical intervention appears to be having
unexpected effects – loosening the association of serodiscordant relationships
with ‘risk’ and helping couples to experience their relationships as normal and
safe.
Asha Persson of the University of New South Wales reports
that people’s views about treatment as prevention have changed significantly in
recent years. She previously researched the topic in 2009, soon after the ‘Swiss
Statement’ was issued. At that time, people in a relationship with a partner of
a different HIV status often expressed scepticism or uncertainty about the idea
that HIV treatment could make a person non-infectious. They did not always see
the relevance of the information to their own lives.
But in her more recent interviews, conducted in 2013 and
2014, couples readily discussed the implications of having an undetectable viral
load. HIV treatment appears to be transforming the social and sexual lives of people
living with HIV and their partners.
The research specifically focuses on so-called
‘serodiscordant couples’, in other words those in which one person has HIV and
the other does not. The public health literature on serodiscordant
relationships typically focuses on the risk of HIV transmission and tends to
see such a relationship as inherently problematic. In contrast, Persson found
that her interviewees wanted to stress how normal and positive their
relationships were, with HIV being seen as ‘no big deal’.
She interviewed 38 people who were in a relationship with a
person of a different HIV status in Australia. Members of 25 couples were
interviewed, including 13 couples in which both partners were interviewed. As
well as 16 gay couples, there were seven heterosexual couples and two which
included transgender people. Of the 25 HIV-positive partners, 20 were taking
HIV treatment and had an undetectable viral load, and three were about to
start. Half were diagnosed before their current relationship and half were
diagnosed while in it.
About half the couples had sex without a condom. Typically,
heterosexual couples were monogamous and did not use condoms. Gay couples were
more likely to have open relationships, and also more likely to use condoms
together.
Understanding of treatment as prevention
Not all participants were familiar with the actual term ‘treatment
as prevention’, but there was broad awareness of the concept that treatment
reduces viral load and thereby infectiousness. Almost all interviewees volunteered
that their or their partner’s viral load was undetectable and treatment was seen
as key to serodiscordant relationships.
Nonetheless interviewees had different perspectives on the
implications of this.
Many of the gay couples framed HIV treatment as an ‘extra
layer of protection’ alongside continued condom use. The couples welcomed the
greater sense of security provided by treatment as prevention (TasP) but it was not to be relied on
alone, as this man explained:
“Whether it’s 4 per
cent or 0.5 per cent, there’s still a risk… If there’s any risk, it doesn’t
make sense because the implications of that are so great… the emotional impact
of [my partner] knowing that he had given me HIV would be just too awful to
bear…”
Some other couples had been having sex without a condom long
before they learnt about TasP. Finding out about it provided
reassurance and validation for this choice:
“The thing is that,
this new information… sort of confirmed what we did, why I’m still negative.”
For another group of couples, the information about
undetectable viral load and infectiousness ‘gave them permission’ to have sex
without a condom:
“And then that study
came out… So then we were like relieved, really, and able to kind of go ahead…
I could sit there and go, ‘These are the facts. If he has his medication every
day… I’m willing to take the risk because I know he’s doing everything he
possibly can to keep me safe’.”
Across the board, TasP lessened anxieties about
transmission, as this HIV-positive woman explained:
“[It] helps you to be
able to relax and enjoy your sex life, enjoy your relationship with your
partner. It’s one less thing to worry about.”
Many of the interviewees claimed to not be worried about HIV
transmission, with many of the HIV-negative partners especially keen to refute
the idea of being at risk or of their partner being contagious. They wanted to
put that risk in perspective (“I know the
probability of getting it is not zero, but I know it’s extremely low, extremely
low”) and not let it define their relationship.
“I can’t see how I can
have a loving relationship with Jasmine and be preoccupied with fear about
becoming HIV-positive… it just seems incompatible.”
An HIV-positive man who had previously ruled out sex or
relationships with HIV-negative men found himself drawn into a relationship with
a man who wasn’t concerned about their different HIV statuses:
“I guess I’ve been
living in a fairly limited view of how all this had to work for me and now I
just feel freer… I can actually love who I love, rather than be limited to:
‘Are you positive or not?’… It gives space for, you know, relationships to
happen, to evolve that I guess we once thought weren’t possible.”
Countering stigma and transforming relationships
“TasP makes possible new ways to experience and imagine
serodiscordant sexuality,” Dr Persson writes. Because TasP is changing the perception
of HIV as being extremely infectious, it “might work to gradually normalise and
legitimise intimate serodiscordant relationships as something that can be
‘worked through’ and then enjoyed, instead of being problematised as an anomaly
in need of continuous sexual risk management.”
She argues that a pharmaceutical product (or the way in
which that product is perceived) may be having an impact on stigma. Antiretrovirals
appear to be helping to restore a sense of social and sexual belonging in people
living with HIV, allowing them to live fuller lives.
In contrast, many other sociologists have taken a critical
approach to the increasing use of pharmaceutical products to manage problems that
have complex social causes, including depression, obesity and sexual
dysfunction. Because this can reinforce ideas of normal behaviour and
appearance, it is sometimes seen as a form of social control, in which people
feel pressured to use medicines to bring their bodies into line with socially
expected standards.
The interviews did reveal that some HIV-negative respondents
put pressure on their partners to take treatment and maintain an undetectable
viral load:
“There’s no way in the
world that I’d be with a positive man who wasn’t on treatment.”
“I’ll be a lot more
comfortable when he’s on medication… It should resolve a number of tensions.”
But Persson’s account is generally more optimistic, focusing
on the potential of TasP to transform our understanding of HIV in positive and
interesting ways. TasP is not just a tool for public health, but can also
enhance intimate relationships and sexual pleasure. It may help bridge the ‘sero-divide’
between HIV-negative and HIV-positive people, allowing relationships between
them to be experienced as safe and legitimate.
The definition of ‘safer sex’ is expanding, so that it
cannot simply be defined as the use of condoms. The focus of HIV prevention is
shifting from changing sexual behaviour to encouraging people to begin
antiretroviral treatment and adhere to it.
And the significant evolution of people’s views since her
previous research study five years earlier suggests that further change and
development is likely if not inevitable.