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The Case Against Marriage A Book in Progress by Glenn Campbell “Read it or weep!” Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 Next Chapter>> Production Notes | College Lecture | Glenn's Home Page   NOTE: This work has been ABANDONED as too long-winded and repetitive, but you are welcome to get whatever you can from it. The essential ideas are best summarized in a single page. Most of my new philosophical musings on relationships, etc. are now found in Kilroy Cafe. —GC, 5/09

Problems of Living

The Case Against Marriage - Chapter 28 - 8/5/07

By virtue of being human, all of us our driven by recurring existential urges. These are deep emotional fears, similar to hunger and thirst, that secretly motivate our behavior and sometimes lead us to ruin. Our existential desires are not always fulfillable and are often self-contradictory, yet we have to learn to live with them.

One of these essential drives is the desire to be protected, comforted and cared for—the urge to merge. We all remember warm feelings of security from our childhood: Our parents took care of our needs, comforted us when we were hurt and protected us from the harsh realities of the world. With time, we chafed under this protection and wanted to experience the world more directly. This was thrilling at first until we realized how cruel and unforgiving the real world could be. When reality didn't go our way, we longed to go back to being protected. We wanted to fall back into someone else's arms and feel comforted and safe again.

Alas, you can never really go back. Every form of refuge has its price, and even if you pay the price, the protection you receive may still be an illusion.

People join religions for the illusion of protection. A religion gives you a set of comforting words to say and rituals to follow, and it teaches you about a God or supernatural force that is supposedly looking after you. The only trouble with religion is that it compromises your own independent judgment. If you follow the simplistic instructions of the group rather than judging life on its own terms, this is bound to lead to painful real-world mistakes.

With almost the same religious fervor, people look to romantic love as a source of protection. They want their partner to be a parent to them, even a god. They want to be held in someone arms and be kept warm and safe. When they don't know what to do with their life or are facing a stress they can't handle, they want a White Knight to rescue them.

The desire for rescue and the belief in White Knights can run very deep, so much so that we are tempted to see a rescuer in any mannequin or scarecrow. In the early stages of romance, we worship our partner, seeing them as a Superman or Superwoman with extraordinary abilities, even if we have never actually seen those abilities in action. We need them to have superhuman powers so they can fulfill all of the impossible needs within us.

The comfort, of course, is illusory. Someone can hold us in their arms and tell us comforting words, just like our parents did, but they can't really protect us from reality. Eventually, our protector turns out not to be superhuman. Because they don't know our needs as well as we do, they inevitably make worse decisions for us than we would make ourselves, and this may get us into even deeper difficulties than the ones we wanted protection from.

Another existential urge is almost the opposite: the desire to be a unique and powerful individual in our own right. This is what drives us away from the protection of our parents beginning at a very early age. As soon as we have the capability of doing something, like walking, then we want to do it ourselves, without any help from anyone. This need becomes especially fierce in adolescence, when the kid is desperate for a unique identity and insists that he needs help from no one.

Young people will go to some bizarre extremes to try to prove their uniqueness: tattooing, body piercing, a taste for loud music their parents hate and a penchant for high-risk activities. Give them a cultural restriction and they'll rebel against it. This is a only shallow theatrical uniqueness, however. It is not what they really want and need, which is real accomplishment in the outside world.

Paradoxically, we not only want to be unique and powerful; we want to be seen as unique and powerful by others. Being independent and self-sufficient isn't enough, because that is a very lonely position. We want others to see our independence and self-sufficiency. We want to be praised for our uniqueness, and barring that, we will settle for being reviled for it. The important thing is that we be noticed and that we make a mark on the world.

Everyone wants witnesses, preferably a million of them, but even one witness is better than not being seen at all. We feel more alive when we know someone is watching us and recording our accomplishments. In our childhood, our parents provided this service: When we achieved something, they praised us for it. In adulthood, we also want this praise and notice. We work hard in our careers not just for money but also for recognition. Being the Number One salesman in your division gives you a sense of worth deeper than money, because everyone else in your division is now recognizing you.

If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to see, does it still fall? Physically, it does, but emotionally maybe not. If you have accomplished something, and no one is there to see you accomplishment, then is it worth anything? There may be some private satisfaction in, say, climbing the world's highest mountain, but public recognition feels much better.

Romance is also supposed to fulfill this need. No longer will your accomplishments go unnoticed. Your partner will praise you for them just as your parents did. They will see and mentally record everything you do, which may give you a greater sense of having lived.

Unfortunately, this is sometimes a hollow recognition. If your partner praises everything you do, regardless of its quality, then their notice won't mean much in the long run. On the other hand, your accomplishment could be taken for granted after a while and not praised at all, to the point where you are making great efforts in the relationship and getting little reward. If you are trapped with someone, either result is possible.

Why should it matter whether we have a witness? If we accomplish a personal goal, should the accomplishment alone be satisfaction enough, without the need for an audience? Being witnessed matters because we are essentially social beings. How others see us forms part of our identity and our core motivation. We couldn't just arrive on an alien planet and know what to do with ourselves. The people around us necessarily mold us and direct us toward certain goals, and without all human contact we would be lost.

We can be self-sufficient to a degree, but there could be no worse hell than being trapped on a desert island alone. Without someone to perform for, the theatre of life begins to lose its meaning. If you see another human face only once a year, that contact is still essential to keep you going. Even the dream of human contact is better than no contact at all.

The existential drives may not always make logical sense, but they will always be part of us. We will always be seeking comfort and recognition from others at the same time we are trying to prove ourselves unique from them. It is okay to fall into the arms of another, and it is okay to seek fame and recognition for your specialness. What you shouldn't do is suspend reality in the process.

Whatever you are seeking emotionally, you need to choose a path that is really going to give you what you want. Your quest must be moderated by intelligence. Joining a cult is not the best way to seek comfort and personal affirmation, because this mechanism is flawed and simply doesn't work. Likewise, you shouldn't pursue a path toward fame and fortune that isn't really going to lead to satisfaction. You can try to become a movie star, but it probably won't make you happy regardless of whether you succeed.

Reality, if you obey it, forces you into a higher plane of functioning where your emotions are disciplined by intellect. If you choose to listen to reality, it will tell you what you can and cannot do to achieve your emotional goals.

If you are cautious, thoughtful and open to the unexpected, you might find enough comfort, uniqueness and recognition to get you by. You probably won't find them, however, if you simply lock yourself in a prison cell and throw away the key.

Continued in Chapter 29