I'm Baffled By "The Love Hypothesis"

CW: sexual harassment/assault, discussions of characters having sex (nothing graphic), aphobia

This is your spoiler warning for The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood. I give you a brief summary of the first half, then I go on to spoil the actual ending. If you want to read the book, come back to this later. If not, that's alright too, you should be able to follow along still. I'm not actually recommending that you read this book, though, so do what you want.

It's Thanksgiving break, and I'm finally home after three very long months of school. We decide to take a trip to Barnes and Noble, and what do I see but an entire table for BookTok (the side of TikTok that discusses books) Favorites. I'm familiar with most of the titles, but one in particular really intrigues me: The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood. It's a very new book, and I've heard a lot about it online. In fact, I've heard a lot of really great reviews. Everyone says that this is one of the best books of the year, and I've only ever heard one negative thing about it from one person. Well, I think to myself, if everyone says it's so good, then I'll go ahead and give it a shot!

I read it at the very end of the break, just as I arrive back in my dorm. It's now the week before finals, and all I can do is think about this book. I end up writing twelve pages about it, and that wasn't even everything I had to say. I had other things to do! Actual essays to write that would be graded (by some very mean people)! And yet, all I could think about was this book. Specifically, I couldn't figure out why my experience reading this book was so bad when everyone else appeared to think it was perfect.

Good news for you, dear reader: I passed all my classes, which means I have the time to refine my thoughts and explain exactly what bothered me so much about this book (don't worry, though -- I'm cutting out the more technical things). Normally I wouldn't write and publish a negative book review, because I think it's counterproductive and honestly somewhat mean to the author. However, this book is so popular that I don't think one negative review that will get maybe 10 readers is really going to hurt Hazelwood that much.

I approached this book with an incredibly open mind. I was eager, actually. But I definitely didn't approach it blindly. I knew two things about The Love Hypothesis before I bought it: it was originally a Kylo Ren/Rey fanfiction (yes, from the new Star Wars movies), and it had demisexual representation. Both of these things were incredibly intriguing to me. But, in the interest of fairness, I think I need to concede some things before I really get into it.

I do not read fan fiction (just not my thing).

I hated the relationship between Kylo Ren and Rey.

And I’m really not the target demographic for most romance novels.

I’m willing to accept the fact that I set myself up for failure with this book. If I had thought about it, I probably would have been able to guess that I wouldn’t like The Love Hypothesis as much as everyone else. However, I was blinded by the potential for demisexual representation, which is a group that is highly underrepresented in the media. But the point is: I’m not just critiquing this book because it’s not really my thing. The issues I have here are beyond a personal distaste; when I step back and look at this book for what it is, there are fundamental problems with it that didn’t need to be there.

The Love Hypothesis follows Olive, a third-year Ph.D. student, as she enters a relationship with Adam Carlsen, a young professor who is well-known in the department for being brilliant and kind of a douche to students. Well, not quite -- they're only fake dating. Olive is trying to convince her best friend, Anh, that she has completely moved on from her [Olive's] ex-boyfriend Jeremy, who Anh desperately has a crush on. Olive, in a desperate attempt at a fake relationship, just kisses the first person she sees, who happens to be Dr. Carlsen. She needs Anh to think she's moved on, and Adam needs the department to believe he won't transfer schools so they'll unfreeze his funds. The two find themselves doing increasingly uncomfortable -- I mean, cute -- things until Olive realizes she has caught definitely-not-fake feelings for Adam. A story with a lot of drama and, uh, love? I guess? This is a good starting point for what I'm going to discuss, but I will probably leave some things out. Other important characters that might come up: Malcolm is Olive's roommate, Holden is another professor (and ends up dating Holden), and Tom Benton is Adam's friend and the Harvard professor that Olive wants to work with.

Probably my biggest content issue with The Love Hypothesis was the way it treated Title IX. In case you aren’t familiar, Title IX is a federal law that makes gender-based discimination in any government-funded institution illegal. This law also (more famously) deals with cases of sexual misconduct. From the Author’s Note: “It legally compels schools to respond to and remedy situations of misconduct ranging from hostile work environments to harassment and assault.”

After the prologue (I'll explain more about this later, but basically Olive and Adam meet but Olive can't see him so she doesn't realize who he is), The Love Hypothesis opens with our main character, Olive, sexually assaulting our male lead, Adam. Perhaps that isn’t the nicest way to put it, but that’s exactly what happens. Olive lies and tells Anh that she’s on a date, but really she just goes to her lab. When she sees Anh there, she has to think quickly, so she kisses the first man she sees. To be fair, she did ask for consent before kissing him. But here’s an important lesson: it’s not just about asking for consent, you have to wait to hear a “yes” before you proceed with your action. Enthusiastic consent only, friends.

Anyway, Olive hears a grunt, believes it to be a yes, and she kisses him. Afterward, he asks her why she did that. Olive tells him that it is none of business, and he tells her that’s fine and he’ll “just go back to [his] office and begin to work on [his] Title IX complaint.” This prompts her to explain the situation to him before begging him to not file a report. She realizes that she is begging someone to not file a Title IX report after sexually assaulting him and swiftly exists the conversation, apologizing profusely. Adam, obviously, does not file a report, and this becomes a source of witty banter between the two as their relationship blossoms.

I can’t say I’m happy with Title IX being turned into a joke between the two main characters of an incredibly popular book, or that this couple’s “meet cute” was sexual assault. I see no reason why Adam couldn’t have just given his consent. We find out later that the person Olive met in the prologue was Adam, and that he both remembered her and had a crush on her since that event. This means that he already knew who she was, and that's probably why he was okay with her kissing him. I don’t think there was anything added to this scene by removing Adam’s consent, since he would have said yes. The situation is so absurd that he could still make fun of her for it. Hazelwood wrote this book to give STEM representation in literature, so I think it’s irresponsible to open with the two main characters making light of both sexual assault and the thing that tries to prevent it.

Now, before I read this book, I did hear that there was a sexual harassment plotline that was not mentioned by reviewers. So, upon reading this first chapter, I was thinking, Yeah, okay, so it’s definitely a little uncomfortable. But clearly he didn’t view it as sexual assault, so I suppose it’s fine. Honestly, even though I didn’t like it very much, this would not have been the end of the world for me. I was able to move on and enjoy the middle of the book. But this was not the sexual harassment plotline. Near the end of the book, Tom Benton is speaking on a panel with Olive at a convention. Afterward, when the two are alone, he comes onto her very aggressively. He says a lot of crude things, implies she’s only dating Adam to get ahead in science (and that she’ll continue to do that with other notable professors), and tries to convince him to sleep with her very forcefully. He threatens to steal her research if she doesn’t come work with him in Boston, and assures her that no one will believe her if she reports him.

This whole scene is incredibly alarming to read, mostly because it’s so jarring. This plotline completely changes the tone of the story from a fun romance to an incredibly heavy topic. Tom is also laying out his evil plans like a cartoon villain. I don’t say this to make light of sexual harassment, especially that experienced by women in STEM. This is strictly a judgement on the writing. When he lays out his plan to sleep with Olive and steal her research in one out-of-the-blue monologue, it minimized the impact of what’s happening. I kept waiting for him to be like, "Ha, just kidding! Not actually, but could you imagine?" It just didn't feel real. It feels like Olive being sexually assaulted was just a way to add drama to the story, rather than being treated as seriously as it should be.

This plot twist of Tom being a predator also just comes out of nowhere; the only foreshadowing is Adam’s other friend, Holden, saying that he’s always had bad vibes about the man. I know that most predatory men seem very charming to the outside world, so I'm not saying everyone should have distrusted him. But we did have the potential to see him behave both in private settings, as Adam’s friend, and in public settings, as Tom the scientist. I think the story would have benefitted from having more of a contrast between the two Toms, so that him being a creep didn’t just feel completely random. Maybe if we saw him be really charming all the time in public, but when he was alone with Adam and Olive he would get annoyed at a lot of little things. Just providing a more clear difference from the beginning would have eased the reader into the twist, and therefore would have made it more believable.

The biggest issue that I had with the subplot of Tom sexually harassing Olive, though, was that when it came to its conclusion, Olive is handling it through Harvard’s Title IX coordinator. And yes, this is the right thing to do, obviously, but were we not making fun of Title IX reports 300 pages ago? I do not understand how you can start your story by making jokes about sexual assault and filing a Title IX report (which Adam would have been well within his rights to do so) and end with a message about how sexual harassment is inexcusable behavior. Is sexual harassment something to be taken seriously or not? Or is it only okay when a pretty girl kisses someone without consent? Once again, all of this would have been solved if Adam had just given his consent at the beginning of the story. But as it stands, this is a massive continuity error, both for the plot and the characters themselves.

Believe it or not, Olive’s sexual harassment is not the only concerning part of this relationship dynamic. Adam has his own issues. Olive and Adam work at the same lab, but they are not on the same level: Olive is a grad student, and Adam is a professor. People online will say that they’re not in the same department, but to me they both work in the same lab with the same people in biology. Now, to be fair, they are both adults (Olive is 26 and Adam is 34), so I have no problem with the age gap. In fact, I was mostly fine with their rankings, as she explicitly does not and has never worked with him. Questionable, sure, but overall fine. But there are two reasons why this does bother me.

First is going back to that prologue. Olive couldn’t see, so she didn’t know who she was talking to. Adam, however, got her name, her position, and knows what she looks like. Holden later tells us that he’s actually had a crush on her ever since that interaction. But does Adam clue her into the fact that he met her in that incredibly vulnerable position? No, of course not! Olive figures out that he was The Guy around the middle of the book, but doesn’t realize she’s the person he liked until the very end. This really isn’t the end of the world, but it made me uncomfortable that he kept that from her. Because he is in a position of power already, it just felt weird for him to have already known who she was (and already liked her) as this whole plot is playing out and she thinks they’re strangers. Again, I got the impression that the reason Adam didn't file a Title IX report initially was because he was already attracted to her. He did their entire fake relationship under false pretenses.

The much bigger red flag that I saw concerning their power dynamic comes much later. At the convention mentioned earlier, she is having to stay in his room because she couldn’t find another place to sleep. After the initial conversation with Tom (before Adam knows what happened), Adam can see that Olive is visibly upset, so they ditch their other plans and spend the night hanging out. Eventually things get, uh, “sexy,” and they start moving towards having sex. Don’t worry, we aren’t getting into that right now. Right before they have sex, Adam is pulling away and telling her that they shouldn’t do this, saying: “You’re a grad student, currently depending on me for a place to stay, and even if not, the power I have over you could easily turn this into a coercive dynamic--”

This happens on page 257. And I get that this is a turning point in their relationship; it’s here where they objectively go from “friends who are fake dating for mutual benefit” to “actually involved people.” So I understand why Adam would be more concerned with the power dynamic now than he was for the other 256 pages before this. Except, no, I don’t. Either it’s inappropriate the whole time or not at all. Reader, I would like to introduce to you a concept originally identified by Sigmund Freud called “the Madonna-whore complex.” This theory states that men view women as either saintly Madonna figures (pure) or as dirty prostitutes (whores). Men with this complex will sexually desire a “degraded” partner and cannot sexually desire a “respected” partner. Adam’s apprehensions remind me of this complex. He was totally fine with dating someone “beneath him” when they were just kissing for show, but as soon as she actually presents herself sexually, he pulls away as if he suddenly has too much respect to go that far. It’s not a perfect analogy, but it’s close enough to set off warning bells in my mind.

God, I hate that this book made me think about Freud. But, while we’re here, let’s discuss something that I think Freud would hate: demisexuality. I feel like I have to give another disclaimer for this. I’m asexual, not demisexual. Same spectrum, but completely different identities. I can understand parts of the demi experience, but I do not get to speak on behalf of demi people. Therefore, I’m willing to accept that my opinions on Olive’s demisexuality are wrong.

That being said, I don’t see it as good representation at all. To me, it seemed like her demisexuality was being treated as a convenient plot device rather than an actual identity. I can only remember a few times when Olive even mentions this fact about herself. Of course, the story is not about her being demisexual, so it doesn’t need to dominate the plot. But if you’re going to mention it at all (or allude to it, as the word “demisexual” is never actually used), then you should address it properly. That would’ve helped make it feel more real instead of just being another way to glorify Adam.

Anyway, the first time it’s brought up is by far the best. As she’s laying out the ground rules for their fake relationship, Olive tells Adam that they will not be having sex. He doesn’t respond right away, and Olive freaks out a little bit:

“Had he assumed that they would? Was it something she’d said? Should she explain that she’d had very little sex in her life? That for years she’d wondered whether she was asexual and she had realized only recently that she might be able to experience sexual attraction, but only with people she trusted very deeply? That if for some inexplicable reason Adam wanted to have sex with her, she wasn’t going to be able to go through with it?”

Honestly, I think this is a good description of demisexuality. This is a solid starting point for representation, and I admittedly got really excited about seeing Hazelwood be somewhat explicit with it. I wish she had used the word, but it’s at least something.

After this, though, I didn't see her experiences with attraction mentioned again. It was certainly referenced whenever Adam did something she found hot, but her being on the ace spectrum was never explicitly brought up. But I have to admit something to you: I read this book out of order. Not completely, but when I was first reading it, I didn’t have it in me to sit through a graphic sex scene (just ace things?). So, upon completing this book, that was all the information I had. However, you cannot properly review a book by avoiding an entire chapter, so I went back and filled in the missing pieces.

Oh my God, when I tell you that was the worst writing in the entire book. I’m not going to repeat it here (hello, family members who might be reading this), but it was laughably cringey. Maybe I’m just the wrong audience, but wow. It was bad. But the worst part was that I discovered that she did mention asexuality again! As they’re, uh, starting to do things, Adam starts to get the impression that she isn’t comfortable having sex with him right now in this context (outside of a relationship). She tells him:

“‘It’s not that I want to not have sex. I just … don’t particularly want to have it. There is something weird about my brain, and my body, and -- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I don’t seem to be able to experience attraction like other people. Like normal people. I tried to just … to just do it, to get it over with, and the guy I did it with was nice, but the truth is that I just don’t feel any …’ She closed her eyes. This was difficult to admit. ‘I don’t feel any sexual attraction unless I actually get to trust and like a person, which for some reason never happens. Or, almost never. It hadn’t, not in a long time, but now -- I really like you, and I really trust you, and for the first time in a million years I want to --” And then they start doing more things.

There’s something weird about my brain and my body. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Like normal people.

Ouch, Hazelwood. Tell us how you really feel.

Again, I’m not demisexual. But I am asexual, so I understand the “lack of sexual attraction” part of demisexual. And this -- describing it as something that’s wrong with her, or something that needed fixing, or something that’s abnormal and scary -- is so not okay with me.

First of all, how dare you make me read a graphic sex scene that isn’t even written well in order to experience HALF of the explicit aspec representation in this book. Put it in the actual plot or don’t include it at all. Second, this is what I meant when I said it felt like Hazelwood only made Olive on the asexual spectrum in order to glorify Adam. He is not just someone she trusts, he is the person that fixes her. He gives her the gift of sexual attraction and cures her of her abnormalities. I mean, Hazelwood didn’t even bother including the word demisexual in the book. She didn’t care about giving an aspec identity representation, she was just happy to find another way to highlight how “special” Adam is to Olive. And I know this is true because Olive’s internalized acephobia is never challenged or questioned. Nobody ever tells her that being demisexual is okay and a valid way to experience attraction, this is just where it ends. That takes this firmly outside of representation and directly into being acephobic.

I am not demisexual, and I would never want to speak over someone who is. But seeing as I’ve never seen an actual review from a demi person, I’m going to go with my gut instinct on this one. I think it would have been much more impactful for Olive to be openly and confidently demisexual -- or at least aspec as, again, she never actually gives herself a label -- and had that tie closer to her overall arc. It’s somewhat implied that she’s able to move on easily from Jeremy because she isn’t sexually attracted to him, so maybe that can be our starting point. Let’s say Olive hasn’t been sexually attracted to anyone since some random high school/early undergrad boyfriend, and she liked Jeremy well enough but overall just preferred him to being a friend. Then, as we go through the plot with Adam, we see her go from being kind of iffy about Adam to being close friends, and through that we see her start to be sexually attracted to him. I would then move their conversation about her identity to before they’re having sex, since he’s already uncertain then. She can describe demisexuality, and even be anxious about it. Then Adam can have his shining-ally moment where he tells her that’s okay. This isn’t a perfect solution and would need to be approved by an actual demi person, but this way it would at least feel like her demisexuality was intentional. As it stands, though, I was underwhelmed with how this was handled.

The treatment of Title IX, the weird power dynamic that both existed and didn't, and the way demisexuality was referenced were the most glaring issues that I had with The Love Hypothesis, but they were not the only problems present. If those were the only bad things about the book, I probably would have just accepted that I have a different taste and moved on with my life. The reason I couldn't get over this book was because of how genuinely awful I thought the writing was. Usually good writing can make a book seem really good, even if it's not. When I’ve discussed this book with other people, I’ve described it as something that, to me, reads like fanfiction. Now, this is a controversial critique in book communities, and I understand why. Often when people say books “read like fanfiction,” they are just talking about a book where queer people get to have a happy ending. For a long time, there wasn’t mainstream queer representation, so the only way potentially-not-straight characters would get together would be in the minds of the fans. So, I understand why it would be hurtful to see everyone calling “happy queer people” a fanfiction trope. But that’s also not the only thing that statement means. Fanfiction, by definition, is literature (and yes, it is a form of literature that should be respected) that is based off of another existing form of media. This means that things like world building and character basics are done for you. Many fanfics, especially those focused on a specific ship, will be mainly about character development. Plus, it relies on familiarity a lot, as when you’re reading fanfiction, it’s generally expected that your readers understand the source material. This is completely fine, by the way. A story being character driven isn’t the worst thing in the world. This is just meant to characterize what I mean when I say a book “reads like fanfiction.” I think The Love Hypothesis puts too much attention on the romance between the main characters that it neglects other aspects that would have made this book better. There isn't really depth to any of the side characters (which was part of the problem with Tom Benton), the actual characterization of Olive and Adam was incredibly shallow, and the plot was being held together by anxiety and convenience.

Overall, I was just really shocked by how underwhelming this book was. I don't like to classify books as "overhyped," but I'm genuinely confused as to why this one is so beloved. I have read other romance books from BookTok that were still pretty cheesy, but were overall enjoyable to read. It blows my mind how The Love Hypothesis is so bad to me when everyone else appears to love it. Like I said, I'm willing to accept that I'm not the audience that Hazelwood had in mind, and I'm not just trying to appear different and better than you because my book opinions are so much more mature. I actually gave this book a 5/10, since I was enjoying it, particularly around Act II. And I think it had a lot of potential, but it really fell flat in execution.