In the last 50 years, sperm counts have dropped from an average of 100 million of the little terrors swimming merrily about in every millilitre of ejaculate to an average of just 48 million in today’s ersatz man-brew. Many of those, according to results we are about to receive courtesy of the three volunteers in Celebrity Save Our Sperm, are not swimming too merrily either. At the moment, one in every six couples has trouble conceiving and if sperm counts continue on their current trajectory we will be looking at infertility as the norm within a very few decades.
Can matters be – uh – taken into one’s own hand and improved on an individual basis, asks this surprisingly sober, but not sombre, celebrity-fronted documentary? And, because deadlines make better telly, can it be done in 10 weeks?
Radio 1 DJ and television presenter Melvin Odoom (42, no children, his mum rings him weekly about this oversight), comedian Russell Kane (47, one child) and Made in Chelsea’s Ollie Locke (married to Gareth and on their third round of IVF with a surrogate mother who has so far had two miscarriages) provide a cupful of the necessary to be analysed by a fertility clinic. Melvin’s mother, it turns out, has nothing to worry about on the physical score. Ollie discovers that only a third, instead of the average two thirds, of his sperm have healthy DNA. And Russell, much to his shock, discovers that he is functionally infertile. “I’m feeling something irrational after that,” he says. It is a foretaste of the deeper questioning that begins as the show goes on.
Initially, there are the standard semi-pointless japes. Testicles hang below the body because sperm do best at cooler temperatures, you say? Into a plunge pool with you all! A diet full of fresh meat, fish and vegetables is good for them? Let’s look inside Melvin’s sweetie cupboard, point out Russell’s daily 14-espressos habit and throw in “one study” that shows that as little as one sugary drink a day can lower sperm count by a third!
Soon, though, more interesting phenomena – both practical and psychological – emerge (though I would not like to go unmentioned the expressions on the three men’s faces as they watch a demonstration of a ball-massage technique under the unsmiling guidance of body work and intimacy coach Libby Shepherd. It improves blood flow, she tells them, as her associate, Lazlo, drags on his scrotum and kneads his testes. “Then verily, let my genitals necrotise” seems to be the unspoken consensus of the audience. Poor lads).
Amid the light relief, though, Russell gradually unpicks his reaction to the news about his fertility. His family, he feels, is complete – so it’s his pride, his masculinity, that has been attacked. “Until you realise that men’s brains are capable of divorcing child creation from sperm count,” he notes, “you’re not going to solve the stigma.” There are frightening slides from Professor Richard Lee, head of research in reproductive biology at Nottingham University, showing the stilling and sticky clumping of sperm under the influence of common plastic pollutants. That comes soon after an unverified claim (not by him) that some experts estimate that each of us eats “a credit card’s worth” of plastic every week, so thoroughly infused has the food chain become with various sorts. I would very much like to hear more on this.
What emerges most strongly is the state of ignorance about their own bodies and reproductive health in which the three volunteers seem to exist. We cannot tell what exactly is truth and what is (ball) massaged for the camera but everything seems to come as some sort of a surprise to at least one of the men. Locke knows, presumably, that smoking is bad in every way but hadn’t given it up as he, his partner and their surrogate embarked on IVF. And, if he didn’t know already, did no doctor even mention to him that his hot tub habit probably wasn’t helping mini-Ollie matters? Melvin notes that he considers his friendship group to be very close – talking about their feelings, noticing and helping when one seems down or depressed, for example – but have never talked about fertility or the surrounding issues.
The results after 10 weeks of gentle lifestyle changes are gratifying. Everyone is pleased, although Melvin worries that his mother will know now that there is no excuse (we all worry for Melvin. Mrs Odoom WANTS those grandchildren). More pleasing still is the unglib, uncynical tone of the show – helped greatly by the presenter, Dr Anand Patel, who manages to acknowledge embarrassment without giving into it and mixes the medical with the sociological in a way that enhances both. They all pulled it off nicely.
Celebrity Save Our Sperm is on Channel 4 in the UK, with an Australian screening to be confirmed.
