On the definition question, I would say that, if we only have the two terms “monogamous relationship” and “polyamorous relationship” to work with, then I’d define “monogamous relationship” to be one that has the single-partner restriction, and “polyamorous relationship” to be one that doesn’t. Because that seems to be the most important distinction to make: establishing the rules you’re working with.
If we’re talking about poly and mono individuals, then… Again, the rules they use seem to be the important thing to describe. (If you defined it based on how many partners you currently have, then you’d say a person with two partners is poly, and if they break up with one partner they become monogamous, and if they’re trying to find a second partner they’re still monogamous, until they succeed and then they become poly again; this seems silly.)
Now, “the rules you use” technically comprise two parts: the rule you impose on your partner, and the rule you would accept being imposed upon yourself. Usually, I’d expect it to go both ways by default, but if we had to choose a definition based on just one part, which should we choose?
If you restrict your own behavior, but don’t care what your partner does, then you can have a relationship with a classically polyamorous person (who has multiple partners and lets you do the same) or with a classically monogamous person (who has one partner and expects you to do the same). [And if you restrict your partner’s behavior and don’t accept restrictions on your own… then you can’t really have a relationship with a classically polyamorous person (because they’ll want to “cheat” on you), or with a classically monogamous person (because you reserve the right to “cheat” on them). So those people need to find some kind of nontraditional relationship that isn’t either classical mono or poly.]
Since the first case is compatible with poly relationships, I think poly people want to include them. And I suspect a sizable fraction of classically monogamous people aren’t comfortable including a person who goes around saying “I don’t care if my partner sleeps with other people”—plus, there isn’t much point in advertising that to classically monogamous people. So there is some reason to classify people as poly based on whether they would restrict their partner’s behavior.
If you have a higher number of terms to work with, then you can probably construct better definitions. This seems like a good idea.
One of the neglected problems with the ‘restriction’ framework is that it assumes a pre-existing desire that needs restraint. Restrictions are meaningless if the desire isn’t there, but if the desire is there then the restriction is bound to be intolerable. Therefore whether or not there is desire is the far more consequential factor. This is why I wrote this:
I wonder if there’s a lack of imagination from both camps. I’ve had several casual dating periods, so I have some insight into the thrill and excitement of rotating through flings like a flipbook. But when I see my poly friends juggling a stable cadre of full-blown secondary relationships in addition to their primary, I feel vicarious exhaustion. I admit it, the energy devoted seems so excessive that I wonder how much of it is performative, motivated by the desire to showcase their apparent enlightenment,[4] or maybe it’s to ensure they have enough board game partners. On the flip side, I wonder if they believe my assertions that I’m not interested in pursuing others to be genuine, or whether they assume I’ve been browbeaten by the dominating cultural narrative into accepting my imaginary handcuffs.
On the flip side, I wonder if they believe my assertions that I’m not interested in pursuing others to be genuine
I can believe this, but it’s a weak claim, and insufficient for monogamy. Much harder to believe would be the assertion that if they pursued you—if a very attractive woman started working with you, and spent a lot of time in your presence chatting with you, flirting and touching you to whatever degree you’d permit, that you wouldn’t be the least bit tempted. I can believe that you’d control your desire, but do you claim that the desire isn’t there? Actually, I think I can quote you on this (bold added):
One of Aella’s objections to focusing on the traditional ‘wanting multiple relationships’ axis is that it isn’t distinctive enough, since almost everyone has some semblance of that desire. This is true but flattens far too much. Her survey data is the gold standard here, and it does show mild interest in banging others among the monogamous.
Next:
One of the neglected problems with the ‘restriction’ framework is that it assumes a pre-existing desire that needs restraint. Restrictions are meaningless if the desire isn’t there, but if the desire is there then the restriction is bound to be intolerable. Therefore whether or not there is desire is the far more consequential factor.
Is this true of all desires? Surely not; surely there are many weak desires that people cheerfully compromise on in the process of building a relationship. (In general, if there’s a thing that mildly benefits you and majorly bothers your partner, it makes sense to agree to not do that—or, if you prefer, to learn your partner’s needs, count them equal to your own, and happily do what’s best for the both of you, without needing any “restriction”.)
So is it just sexual desire for non-partners, then, for which either you don’t have the desire, or you have it so strongly that no compromise is tolerable? I can also quote you here:
There’s a meaningful difference between an errant desire to bend the barista over the counter, and playing calendar tetris with a dozen of your secondaries, such that it doesn’t make sense to cleave “want to pursue extracurricular intimacy” into a neat yes/no binary. There’s no dividing line under the classic mono/poly definition, it’s a gradient spectrum ranging from “fleeting thought” to “overriding purpose in life”.
I have a desire to be super rich, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. I have a desire to be an elite athlete, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. I have a desire to fuck an endless parade of super models, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. It’s very possible that I would feel differently about pursuing multiple relationships if the chase was either much more effortless or more rewarding. Yet the number of sexual partners I’ve had already easily puts me in the top <1% of males on that metric. So if I’m expressing reluctance despite that relative advantage, I’m very skeptical how much my preferences would change much in response to greater opportunity.
I think there’s a big rhetorical difference between “I have no desire to do this” vs “I have a desire to do this, but it’s small and unlikely to matter”, for someone who cares about whether you’re likely to do it. Naively, the former sounds like, “Oh, so you’re no more attracted to other women than a gay man would be? Wonderful! I’ve met such a faithful man!” Whereas, to an audience that needs to be persuaded, the latter might raise questions like “Might the desire grow in the future, as desires sometimes do? Under what circumstances? How likely is it?”.
And if one takes the “outside view” and looks at general statistics about divorce and infidelity rates, I got a total failure rate approaching 40% after 10 years. I suspect at least half of those people were earnest about their marriage vows, so the mere fact that you’re earnestly stating that you’ll be together for the foreseeable future don’t seem especially reassuring. The statements must be evaluated on their merits.
I see your argument about your personal situation, but one could also argue that your history implies you have a high sex drive plus a high ability to get new partners, and that this will have implications if your partner becomes unattractive to you some years down the road. I’m not actually sure about the direction of the net update.
From your post:
To be fair, the prevalence of cheating is very strong evidence that monos (especially men) are indeed dishonest about their desires for extra-relationship fucking, either because they’re lying to themselves, or because they’re willing to abandon this desire as a practical concession to finding a partner in a monogamy-dominated landscape.
Or because they naively reported “Yes, today I have no desire to fuck other people” early in the relationship, and thought that was the end of the story. They didn’t look into the causes of infidelity in relationships and really evaluate the likelihood of each of them. “Will I become less attractive to my partner as I age, and vice versa? Can we, and will we put in the effort to, do anything about that? Will our sex drives remain compatible? Will one person be afflicted by stress or something, and just become unpleasant to be around, etc.? What is the actual probability that we’ll be happy together in 5 years, 10 years?” They were short-sighted, and probably motivated to be that way for multiple reasons. (But also, some of this is hard to predict even if you’re trying hard.)
Then the situation changed, and their desires changed, but they were already in the relationship, and at least initially their desire wasn’t strong enough to justify leaving the relationship. But it grew stronger. At some point they have to choose between renegotiating / preparing to leave the relationship, or cheating, and some end up choosing the latter.
I think monogamists have significant motivation to self-deceive upwardly about their propensity towards fidelity. I think you’d have to agree that the incentive exists: both because it lets them earnestly tell prospective monogamous mates that they’ll be faithful, and because they probably think it’s morally good to have that quality. Believing and stating outright falsehoods is not the only possible manifestation. Making honest mistakes that point in that direction—by being reluctant to follow “dangerous” lines of inquiry, or by quickly seizing upon claims that support the desired conclusion and not scrutinizing them for flaws—can achieve similar results.
On the definition question, I would say that, if we only have the two terms “monogamous relationship” and “polyamorous relationship” to work with, then I’d define “monogamous relationship” to be one that has the single-partner restriction, and “polyamorous relationship” to be one that doesn’t. Because that seems to be the most important distinction to make: establishing the rules you’re working with.
If we’re talking about poly and mono individuals, then… Again, the rules they use seem to be the important thing to describe. (If you defined it based on how many partners you currently have, then you’d say a person with two partners is poly, and if they break up with one partner they become monogamous, and if they’re trying to find a second partner they’re still monogamous, until they succeed and then they become poly again; this seems silly.)
Now, “the rules you use” technically comprise two parts: the rule you impose on your partner, and the rule you would accept being imposed upon yourself. Usually, I’d expect it to go both ways by default, but if we had to choose a definition based on just one part, which should we choose?
If you restrict your own behavior, but don’t care what your partner does, then you can have a relationship with a classically polyamorous person (who has multiple partners and lets you do the same) or with a classically monogamous person (who has one partner and expects you to do the same). [And if you restrict your partner’s behavior and don’t accept restrictions on your own… then you can’t really have a relationship with a classically polyamorous person (because they’ll want to “cheat” on you), or with a classically monogamous person (because you reserve the right to “cheat” on them). So those people need to find some kind of nontraditional relationship that isn’t either classical mono or poly.]
Since the first case is compatible with poly relationships, I think poly people want to include them. And I suspect a sizable fraction of classically monogamous people aren’t comfortable including a person who goes around saying “I don’t care if my partner sleeps with other people”—plus, there isn’t much point in advertising that to classically monogamous people. So there is some reason to classify people as poly based on whether they would restrict their partner’s behavior.
If you have a higher number of terms to work with, then you can probably construct better definitions. This seems like a good idea.
One of the neglected problems with the ‘restriction’ framework is that it assumes a pre-existing desire that needs restraint. Restrictions are meaningless if the desire isn’t there, but if the desire is there then the restriction is bound to be intolerable. Therefore whether or not there is desire is the far more consequential factor. This is why I wrote this:
I can believe this, but it’s a weak claim, and insufficient for monogamy. Much harder to believe would be the assertion that if they pursued you—if a very attractive woman started working with you, and spent a lot of time in your presence chatting with you, flirting and touching you to whatever degree you’d permit, that you wouldn’t be the least bit tempted. I can believe that you’d control your desire, but do you claim that the desire isn’t there? Actually, I think I can quote you on this (bold added):
Next:
Is this true of all desires? Surely not; surely there are many weak desires that people cheerfully compromise on in the process of building a relationship. (In general, if there’s a thing that mildly benefits you and majorly bothers your partner, it makes sense to agree to not do that—or, if you prefer, to learn your partner’s needs, count them equal to your own, and happily do what’s best for the both of you, without needing any “restriction”.)
So is it just sexual desire for non-partners, then, for which either you don’t have the desire, or you have it so strongly that no compromise is tolerable? I can also quote you here:
I have a desire to be super rich, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. I have a desire to be an elite athlete, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. I have a desire to fuck an endless parade of super models, but it’s either unlikely to happen or not worth pursuing. It’s very possible that I would feel differently about pursuing multiple relationships if the chase was either much more effortless or more rewarding. Yet the number of sexual partners I’ve had already easily puts me in the top <1% of males on that metric. So if I’m expressing reluctance despite that relative advantage, I’m very skeptical how much my preferences would change much in response to greater opportunity.
I think there’s a big rhetorical difference between “I have no desire to do this” vs “I have a desire to do this, but it’s small and unlikely to matter”, for someone who cares about whether you’re likely to do it. Naively, the former sounds like, “Oh, so you’re no more attracted to other women than a gay man would be? Wonderful! I’ve met such a faithful man!” Whereas, to an audience that needs to be persuaded, the latter might raise questions like “Might the desire grow in the future, as desires sometimes do? Under what circumstances? How likely is it?”.
And if one takes the “outside view” and looks at general statistics about divorce and infidelity rates, I got a total failure rate approaching 40% after 10 years. I suspect at least half of those people were earnest about their marriage vows, so the mere fact that you’re earnestly stating that you’ll be together for the foreseeable future don’t seem especially reassuring. The statements must be evaluated on their merits.
I see your argument about your personal situation, but one could also argue that your history implies you have a high sex drive plus a high ability to get new partners, and that this will have implications if your partner becomes unattractive to you some years down the road. I’m not actually sure about the direction of the net update.
From your post:
Or because they naively reported “Yes, today I have no desire to fuck other people” early in the relationship, and thought that was the end of the story. They didn’t look into the causes of infidelity in relationships and really evaluate the likelihood of each of them. “Will I become less attractive to my partner as I age, and vice versa? Can we, and will we put in the effort to, do anything about that? Will our sex drives remain compatible? Will one person be afflicted by stress or something, and just become unpleasant to be around, etc.? What is the actual probability that we’ll be happy together in 5 years, 10 years?” They were short-sighted, and probably motivated to be that way for multiple reasons. (But also, some of this is hard to predict even if you’re trying hard.)
Then the situation changed, and their desires changed, but they were already in the relationship, and at least initially their desire wasn’t strong enough to justify leaving the relationship. But it grew stronger. At some point they have to choose between renegotiating / preparing to leave the relationship, or cheating, and some end up choosing the latter.
I think monogamists have significant motivation to self-deceive upwardly about their propensity towards fidelity. I think you’d have to agree that the incentive exists: both because it lets them earnestly tell prospective monogamous mates that they’ll be faithful, and because they probably think it’s morally good to have that quality. Believing and stating outright falsehoods is not the only possible manifestation. Making honest mistakes that point in that direction—by being reluctant to follow “dangerous” lines of inquiry, or by quickly seizing upon claims that support the desired conclusion and not scrutinizing them for flaws—can achieve similar results.