This is not a real post. This is more of an overture to future posts about the intersection of being polyamorous and having Borderline Personality Disorder.
Ginny pointed out to me today that I have a fair amount of experience being polyamorous, and while I was diagnosed about 4 years ago, all of my adult relationships have existed within the milieu of having the symptoms consistent with BPD. I have had relationships of varying degrees of intimacy, seriousness, and spans of time. I can say that I’ve honestly failed as a partner, been failed as a partner, been very good to partners, and had partners be very good to me.
The more I read and think about my disorder, the more I think about how the factors which play into making relationships more difficult for me are actually quite central to a borderline diagnosis. And this makes me want to delve into, chart, and analyze these waters where polyamory and BPD meet, not only for my own sake (of understanding myself better), but to possibly make some observations about the relationship between intimacy, fear, communication, and the nature of relationships in our culture.
I have already said much about how our culture views relationships in general, commenting on the expectations of monogamy and the perceived “perversion” of sex-positivity and non-monogamy. And while I agree with much of that cultural criticism still (I’m sure I could find many of my previous posts which I would disagree with now), I think there is more to be said about those issues.
I think the direction for me to go, in the future, is to take a closer look at the “emotional” and “dramatic” personality disorders, specifically Borderline but also Narcissistic, Antisocial, and Histrionic as well (which all have similarities), and take a look at how the symptoms which affect relationships might tell us more about mental health, social expectations, and relationship structures.
For now, I don’t want to say too much more. Instead, I might want to go back and take some notes about how the literature documents how BPD (and the others, perhaps) affects relationship health, and take a look at some of the things that polyamory might have to help, hinder, or perhaps be neutral concerning those struggles. I have certainly been able to understand (usually after the fact, unfortunately) how the symptoms of BPD were triggered, not communicated well enough, and were significant causes of the problems in a number of relationships (even the ones that didn’t end badly). I have a feeling that charting such things might tease out some patterns, and I might be able to tentatively conclude some philosophical and social implications of non-monogamy on some of the personality disorders as well as vice-versa.
I’ll admit that this is a challenging and terrifying project, and I hope not to get blown away by the potential scope of it. I know that each day I don’t succeed in brilliantly mapping out and explaining everything, perfectly, deep inside I will try to punish myself for this failure.
Because that’s part of being a borderline.
But I hope that I am able to work through those feelings and help myself (and hopefully some of you) understand a little more about the world. I’ll try and remain optimistic.
Welcome back to explaining basic ethical thinking to sociopaths. OK, that’s not fair. Not all Objectivists are sociopaths.
Today’s chapter is a short one, but one that seems to follow along nicely from where we left off before, with Chapter 4: The Conflicts of Men’s interests. Those of you who are familiar with how numbers work will have noticed that I have skipped from chapter 4 to chapter 7, missing two chapters. I’m doing this for the same reason as I skipped chapter 2, which was because some of the chapters were not written by Ayn rand, and Rand later disassociated herself from the author of those other chapters.
Also, reading this stuff is frustrating, and I’m trying to minimize the pain. I know, I know…I’m a selfish bastard.
In any case, on with it!
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What is compromise?
A compromise is an adjustment of conflicting claims by mutual concessions. This means that both parties to a compromise have some valid claim and some value to offer each other. And this means that both parties agree upon some fundamental principle which serves as a base for their deal.
This is not an Ayn Rand quote. No, really!
It is the nature of agreement in a trade-relationship. The nature of compromise is to make sure that each side agrees to what is being traded. A compromise is not a sacrifice:
But if one wanted to be paid and the alleged buyer wanted to obtain one’s product for nothing, no compromise, agreement or discussion would be possible, only the total surrender of one or the other.
Rand likens this to burglary; there is no compromise between a robber and the robbed, and if one asks another to give up something, then this is not compromise.
What value or concession did the burglar offer in return? And once the principle of unilateral concessions is accepted as the base of a relationship by both parties, it is only a matter of time before the burglar would seize the rest.
Don’t give an inch, because if you do you may end up with nothing. Robbed blind.
Hey! stop compromising my TV!
And this is true! Don’t give the person who breaks into your house anything if you don’t want to. They genuinely have not earned it, and you don’t have to give it. And if you do, perhaps the robber will come back for more. The problem here is the extent of the robber metaphor, because Rand is not merely talking about literal burglars. Rand means much more than that.
There can be no compromise between freedom and government controls; to accept “just a few controls” is to surrender the principle of inalienable individual rights and to substitute for it the principle of the government’s unlimited, arbitrary power, thus delivering oneself into gradual enslavement. As an example of this process, observe the present domestic policy of the United States.
Whoa! Where did that come from? We were just talking about compromise as a tool for fair and equal trade rights, or something to that effect, right? Then we were talking about how that relationship is not like being burgled. Which was all a fair point to make, and I agree with the idea that being burgled is not like a fair trade. But where did government control come into this?
This is one of the major plot points for the rest of the book. We’ve dealt with individual ethics already, and now we will start talking about the relationship between freedom and government control, whether in the form of taxes, trade law, etc. In later chapters, Rand will expound on the issue in more detail.
I’m not an expert of law orthe relationship between individual freedoms, the social contract, or governmental power. I cannot speak with any authority about the relationship between freedom and government power in specific details concerning the United States’ Constitution or “domestic policy.” What I can do, however, is spot a false dichotomy.
Once again, Rand has set up up with a situation where there is the reasonable side of freedom of the individual set up against an oppressive and “arbitrary” power which seeks to force us to sacrifice against our will. We are the reasonable individual who finds a burglar in our house (the government), and we should not have to sacrifice to their demands. The relationship, Rand seems to be saying, between the people and the government is not a compromise because one side (the individual) does not have the ability to haggle for a better trade or to opt out.
And I have some sympathy for that feeling. I used to argue that we should have an opt-in tax system. You choose what you pay for. Don’t care about roads? Don’t pay those taxes (but then should you be permitted to use them?). Don’t care about education? Then don’t pay local school taxes (then should your children be able to use them?). Don’t agree with the war in [insert country here]? Then don’t pay those taxes (but don’t complain when we are attacked). Etcetera.
The problem here (and I want to gloss over the many intricacies of this issue, because I am not that interested in getting sucked into this maelstrom of a topic) is that there are certain roles of government which are inherently shared responsibilities. We need roads, schools, and defense (to varying degrees, which is the part where it gets complex). There are certain things which we benefit from paying for, collectively, which if people saw as theft (and some do *cough* tea party *cough*) they might not want to pay for. But all to often people are blind to the advantages of giving of ourselves for the greater good, in the long run, which that selfish impulse to frame that relationship as theft overlooks.
With government, we all benefit from some level of tax-based collective effort. With interpersonal questions, we all benefit from some level of self-sacrifice, empathy, and effort which does not immediately benefit us. The question, with each, is how much to give up, to whom, etc. This false dichotomy between pure freedom and government (or ethical) theft is laughably simplistic and absurd.
But Rand sees this as a dichotomy, much in the same way as life and death (rather than degrees of health, well being, etc).
There can be no compromise on basic principles or on fundamental issues. What would you regard as a “compromise” between life and death? Or between truth and falsehood? Or between reason and irrationality?
Well, I would consider the choices we make and how they affect the likelihood of healthy living in general, how likely those choices were to actually reach truth or merely rationalized subjective opinions, and how they are to promote actual reason, and not subjective irrationality labeled as objectively true values.
But, then again, I’m not Ayn Rand.
The question “Doesn’t life require compromise?” is usually asked by those who fail to differentiate between a basic principle and some concrete, specific wish.
What, you could ask, could that mean? She continues.
Accepting a lesser job than one had wanted is not a “compromise.” Taking orders from one’s employer on how to do the work for which one is hired, is not a “compromise.” Failing to have a cake after one has eaten it, is not a “compromise.”
Yeah, take that lazy moochers! You can’t get whatever you want! Only Objectivists get that!
The idea here becomes more clear when we read on. But before we do, I just have to quote this, because every time I read sentences like this in Ayn Rand my head thumps on the desk.
Integrity does not consist of loyalty to one’s subjective whims, but of loyalty to rational principles.
Keep telling yourself that. I’m not going to keep stomping on the error of mixing up what one decrees to be rational, subjectively, and what is actually rational. Because seriously, that shit is getting old. But back to the point about differentiating between a basic principle and concrete, specific wishes:
A “compromise” (in the unprincipled sense of that word) is not a breach of one’s comfort, but a breach of one’s convictions. A “compromise” does not consist of doing something one dislikes, but of doing something one knows to be evil.
Like, what?
Accompanying one’s husband or wife to a concert, when one does not care for music, is not a “compromise”; surrendering to his or her irrational demands for social conformity, for pretended religious observance or for generosity toward boorish in-laws, is.
So, being nice and going to that movie or concert that your sweetie-pie wants to see is fine, but any other kind of demand for social conformity, especially if it involved their parents or religion, is not fine. Now, I might agree with this distinction, but this does strike me as at least somewhat arbitrary. Perhaps another example will clarify the core issue here.
Working for an employer who does not share one’s ideas, is not a “compromise”; pretending to share his ideas, is.
OK, better. You don’t have to like your boss, but you shouldn’t pretend to if you don’t. Got it. I thought we were talking about freedom and oppression here? I suppose we aren’t going to address that any more, then. Now, it seems, we’re talking about personal compromises and agreements again. This is an issue which is very relevant when it comes to polyamory, and relationships in general, especially when we are talking about boundaries and relationships rules.
The idea seems to be that we should be able to come to an agreement with people, but we should not give up our integrity or “compromise” our values in doing so. If we were to, we would be acting unethically.
The excuse, given in all such cases, is that the “compromise” is only temporary and that one will reclaim one’s integrity at some indeterminate future date. But one cannot correct a husband’s or wife’s irrationality by giving in to it and encouraging it to grow. One cannot achieve the victory of one’s ideas by helping to propagate their opposite.
I want to tease out a distinction here. The first sentence above seems to be addressing the idea that by giving up, by sacrificing, now I will get something back in the long run. Rand is reacting to an idea, one which I think is true, that we should be willing to give up something of ourselves for the sake of long-term benefit, not only to oneself, but to other people as well.
But rather than address it in these terms, it becomes about both giving into irrationality (because when someone else’s desires conflict with ours, it’s probably irrationality on their part, amirite?) and achieving victory in the battle for ideas. Yeah, no narcissism going on there.
Listen, imaginary Objectivist interlocutor in my head, not everything is a competition. When other people want different things than you, value different things, etc it is not necessarily for irrational reasons. Your feelings and thoughts about things are not necessarily rational nor are they the only things that can be rational.
Nobody is asking anyone to give up their ideas or values, necessarily (which is to say, sometimes we might be doing so). What we might be doing is asking you to give up some of your time, mental effort, etc in order to determine what you might be able to learn not only from other people’s ideas but also their values, flaws, strengths, etc. By viewing this as a competition, you are almost certainly not going to be open to learning anything from people, especially if you disagree. If a conversation or a relationship is a competition you are trying to win, then you will not be likely to learn much, grow as a person, or to ever understand people who are drastically different than you.
A relationship is not something you win. A conversation is not something you win. A debate might be (but even then, not really), but not everything is a debate especially when someone is not trying to debate you. Your wife or husband is not trying to win a conversation about whether you will come to dinner with your in-laws (and if they are, they are not doing it right). I am not trying to win by criticizing Ayn Rand’s (or anyone’s) thoughts. I’m trying to understand. I do not seek out ideas in order to either bolster my own ideas or to show why I’m right. I seek out other ideas in order to test if mine can stand up to scrutiny (ideally, anyway. I’m human and err, including being occasionally defensive).
Perhaps, you Objectivist interlocutor, you should be more focused on understanding, rather than winning. And perhaps I, sufferer of a disorder that makes criticism feel painful, should try to remember that as well. Again, all my criticisms of everything are relevant to me.
If one found it difficult to maintain one’s loyalty to one’s own convictions at the start, a succession of betrayals—which helped to augment the power of the evil one lacked the courage to fight—will not make it easier at a later date, but will make it virtually impossible.
Conviction is more akin to religion than philosophy, Ayn Rand.
Or, perhaps, one should not have more than a minimal amount of loyalty to one’s convictions. Perhaps opinions and values are things that we should hold tentatively, and not with conviction. Other opinions and convictions are not the enemy. They are not the evil at the gates. Other ideas, opinions, etc are just that; other. You might learn something from them if you stopped clinging so hard to your own sacred ideas.
Nothing should be sacred. The ideas in your head, the ideals that you have, nor even the people in your life (in some cases). Because while trying to maintain a sense of integrity is good, integrity (as I mentioned in a previous post) is not necessarily conviction. We should not hold so tightly to our values, ideals, and opinions. We should hold them only insofar as they don’t get blown away by the facts from other sources.
Rand seems to be holding on too tight here, and because so many people value conviction, they see this as a strength of hers And when you are holding onto something too tight, you won’t notice when the wind of truth wants to carry it away. We are all too naturally good at self-justification, bias, and error to hold onto such things too tightly. Because of these biases, we should err on the side of self-correction, rather than trying to win. When you are trying to win, we become jingoistic, nationalistic, and tribal. When the goal of winning is all we see, we cannot notice our own errors.
There can be no compromise on moral principles.
If your moral principle is good, you have no need to defend it. One should test one’s moral ideals and principles, and insofar as they stay good, we should keep them. The truth, in the end, points to itself.
The next time you are tempted to ask: “Doesn’t life require compromise?” translate that question into its actual meaning: “Doesn’t life require the surrender of that which is true and good to that which is false and evil?” The answer is that that precisely is what life forbids—if one wishes to achieve anything but a stretch of tortured years spent in progressive self-destruction.
Oh, irony. What if your ideas are not true and good?
Sorry, of course they are; their yours. And you are an intelligent, good, honest person. How could a smart, good, and authentic person have ideas which may have flaws? Easily. And the problem is that this selfishness and this conviction to selfish, subjectively derived values, is a harbor for human flaws. Selfishness as a virtue leads to a mind where one must defend its opinions and ideals because those ideals are the very source of value. From there, everything looks like a competition.
I forgot to mention that May is Borderline Personality disorder awareness month. As a result of this, along with the reading I’m doing about BPD, I may be writing more about the issue this month than usual.
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The Spring and Summer are easily my favorite times of year. Earlier this year, as March came around and it was still cold, I would periodically ask those close to me, often to the point of annoyance (hopefully in an endearing and lovable way), if it was May yet. I was yearning for warm days, sunshine, walks in the city, and hopefully a reprieve from what was a depressing Winter.
Winter is always hard on me. It is probably at least partially SAD, as certainly the lack of light, sufficient exercise (I like being outside for such things), and other factors play into the changes in my mood, irritability, and thus will make my Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) more pronounced. It’s a hard time for people around me, and I will act in ways, more often, which can be problematic.
So yesterday, the first day of May of 2014, it was sunny, warm, and I got to sit with a couple of drinks with an old friend before taking a walk and then having another drink with my beautiful wife and my very close friend, who also happens to be the fiance of my girlfriend.
Because sometimes just getting drinks can be described as “it’s complicated.”
It was a beautiful day, perfect weather and a chance to put behind me all of the Winter that was made of suck.
But life is never that easy. Because then, last night, the nightmares came. Again.
In recent months, I have had trouble sleeping. The very cold nights a couple of months ago were not helping, but most of it is due to what I have become increasingly aware of as symptoms consistent with PTSD, which in combination with BPD can be happy funtimes. Or not. I have some helpful resources to help with all of that these days, but at night, left to the mechanisms of my brain, those resources feel far away. It’s becoming more manageable. But it’s all still there always, lurking in the background.
In a cleaner, more sane, and possibly intelligently designed universe, a beautiful day would make everything better (and every day would be beautiful, or something). Because while I did have a fine day talking with people and such, the anxiety, fear, and trauma was sitting in the background the entire time. While I was never overtly thinking about it, I was aware of it.
Because I’m always aware of it.
It’s better these days. I’m in a healthier environment, I have friends, family, and partners who are emotionally supportive, and I am starting a new job next week which will provide stability and structure for me. All of these things will contribute to moving forward with optimism, and I hope that in time the fear, hurt, and painful memories will be more distant.
What will stick with me, more than the pain caused to me, is the pain I have caused others. That always sticks with me. Because I know that the pain caused to me I will eventually forgive and it will not affect me as much. I don’t stay mad at people very long, even if they have severely hurt me. But the pain I cause never leaves me. Anyone who knows me knows that at the end of the day it’s the hurt I cause which keeps me awake at night, much more than the pain I feel. I forgive others much sooner than I forgive myself. The problem these days is that I’m having trouble forgiving myself.
I am my harshest critic. And in those times when people I know will say mean, cruel, abusive things to me or about me, it hurts because in my most dark moments I think the same about myself. It hurts because at my worst I am prone to believe those things are true. In times of darkness, the mind goes deep into places of self-hurt. And when we are there, we can lash out at the world in ways we otherwise never would. Depression lies, and the lies it tells us can make us believe the worst about ourselves.
And anger. Anger and hurt are two things I know well. I have become aware of how much anger and hurt can skew things, make us disproportionately reactive, dismissive, and blind. I have seen it happen in my own mind (usually retroactively) and I have seen it in others. Anger and/or hurt repressed, whether over years, weeks, or even hours, can magnify the hurt we feel and the scope of a problem. These days, I’m doing my best to not allow my anger or hurt to win over my compassion and my ability to understand. Because empathy and understanding can allow us to comprehend how someone has hurt us, and why. Those who hurt us are not that different from us, in the end (most of the time).
I’m doing my best to understand the people who have hurt me, as well as to do the work to make it less likely I’ll hurt other people. Because while I will always make mistakes, I want those mistakes to be few and minor. We all have the capability to hurt those we love. We can only hope to do it rarely, and when we do so to hope that self-justification (on both sides) does not amplify and escalate that hurt into anger and damage to relationships.
We all have the capability to commit ourselves to a course, and then have that course carve out a narrative for us which fits the decisions we made (often in anger and pain) towards that vector. We are all capable of justifying, after the fact, the directions we go, and forgetting that there are other perspectives which could inform us. And the longer we stay on such paths, the more we are blind to alternative narratives. This is what causes rifts, wars, and losses of friendships. We are all prone to self-justification, and we all ignore the hurt that others feel. The key is to not get caught up in that narrative and believe it to the detriment of the truth.
Including me. I’m trying. I fail often, but I’m aware that I’m doing so.
But it’s May now. The weather is nicer, the days are longer, and on paper everything is going well for me. But I cannot afford to ignore the dark places within me, or to take for granted what I have and what could be better. It’s May now, but at some point soon, the Winter will return. When things are easier, I have to take the time to prepare for the dark Winter of my soul which will eventually pull me in and hide me away. And I will not forget that it’s not only depression that lies. It’s also optimism which lies to us. I will not remain pulled towards the narratives which I prefer in life, and I must remember that I have responsibility for the hurt I cause, and to learn to understand those that hurt me.
We cannot afford to lose sight of the alternative paths we could have taken. The more they diverge, the less likely we are to understand why we could have taken the other paths just as easily, and that a path only feels like home because we are on it.
I know, I know….I have not been keeping up with writing. The reasons for this are complicated and probably uninteresting to you, so I’ll just skip the laments and get to the goods.
OK, maybe not the goods. We’re talking about Ayn Rand here!
Last time, in chapter 3 (The Ethics of Emergencies), we continued with how we are, individually, the standard for our own ethic, yet somehow this is an “objectivist” ethic. This time, we are going to explore the nature of conflict in our competing interests.
Ayn Rand starts with an obvious issue
Some students of Objectivism find it difficult to grasp the Objectivist principle that “there are no conflicts of interests among rational men.”
Um, yes. I am having some problems with this principle. So I’m hoping Rand will sort it out.
Rand starts with a common example:
A typical question runs as follows: “Suppose two men apply for the same job. Only one of them can be hired. Isn’t this an instance of a conflict of interests, and isn’t the benefit of one man achieved at the price of the sacrifice of the other?”
This is, at least, a conflict in opportunity. There is an actual physical conflict here; only one man can get the job, not both. So, how is this not a conflict? In order to explain why, Rand presents us with four considerations. They are:
Reality
Context
Responsibility
Effort
Let’s look at each briefly. OK, I’ll strive for brevity, anyway. (I failed)
Reality
A man’s “interests” depend on the kind of goals he chooses to pursue, his choice of goals depends on his desires, his desires depend on his values—and, for a rational man, his values depend on the judgment of his mind.
Again, Rand is relying on this distinction between reason and whim (as we saw in all of the previous chapters, but especially chapter 1), a distinction which is not as clear as she thought, and as many people still seem to think today.
The next paragraph contains this continued error, but follows with a point I agree with.
Desires (or feelings or emotions or wishes or whims) are not tools of cognition; they are not a valid standard of value, nor a valid criterion of man’s interests. The mere fact that a man desires something does not constitute a proof that the object of his desire is good, nor that its achievement is actually to his interest.
Again, I disagree that desires, emotions, and “whims” are ontologically separate from reason. They can be different in structure, but we must be careful not to think that they come from different places; our reasons ultimately come from our desires, subjectivity, and whims, even if they actually do end up cohering with reality (the role of skepticism/science is to determine which ones actually do cohere).
And, of course the fact that a person desires something is not sufficient to declare that it is good or in their (rational) interest.
To claim that a man’s interests are sacrificed whenever a desire of his is frustrated—is to hold a subjectivist view of man’s values and interests. Which means: to believe that it is proper, moral and possible for man to achieve his goals, regardless of whether they contradict the facts of reality or not. Which means: to hold an irrational or mystical view of existence. Which means: to deserve no further consideration.
What I think she means here is that you get the job, the sandwich, or the girl (yes, she uses this example later) because they have done the work to deserve it. There is no realization of the role of privilege, bias, etc that goes into who actually gets the job. Not that every person that gets a job got it because of these reasons, but ignoring the fact that we think we are being rational when we are being led by “whims” is really the Achilles heel of Objectivist “philosophy.”
This, once again, is simply the same type of magical thinking (a la The Secret) that she is decrying in the very same paragraph. That is, while saying that a mystical view of reality is not worthy of further consideration, she is using magical thinking and calling it rational. Also, once again, this philosophy is subjectivist to the core. Projecting your personal whims onto the wall and calling it rational, reasonable, and objective just does not work.
When a person reaches the stage of claiming that man’s interests conflict with reality, the concept “interests” ceases to be meaningful—and his problem ceases to be philosophical and becomes psychological.
To a philosophy geek, this looks like an homage to Logical Empiricism, but whether Rand was familiar with this or the closely related idea of logical positivism is not clear.
I do find it interesting, however, that she identifies where the conversation has left philosophy and became psychology. In my opinion, this discussion never left psychology at all. But because Rand believes that reason is ontologically (or perhaps merely epistemologically) distinct from desires, emotions, or whims, she thinks that she is actually leaving behind mere pulls of desire and flying into what? The Platonic realm of Ideas or Forms?
It seems that, for Rand, to be meaningful means to be separate from mere emotion, desire, and whim. These things are subject to psychological analysis, not philosophy. Reason and philosophy are dependent on each other, in some way. I disagree on all counts. Not only is desire, whim, and emotion relevant to philosophy, but reason is relevant to psychology. Moreover, Psychology and philosophy are relevant to one-another.
In any case, let’s move on.
Context
Just as a rational man does not hold any conviction out of context—that is: without relating it to the rest of his knowledge and resolving any possible contradictions—so he does not hold or pursue any desire out of context. And he does not judge what is or is not to his interest out of context, on the range of any given moment.
The idea here is essentially to be internally consistent, mostly in the sense of not having any incongruity between various interests; don’t pursue an interest today which will conflict with another interest that will be relevant tomorrow. In short, a person “does not become his own destroyer by pursuing a desire today which wipes out all his values tomorrow.”
Which is all fine, and I have no quarrel with this. Later on, she further clarifies by saying that “a rational man never holds a desire or pursues a goal which cannot be achieved directly or indirectly by his own effort.” Here, it is the term “indirectly” which should hold our attention (she italicizes it in her own text). Let’s see why:
It is with a proper understanding of this “indirectly” that the crucial social issue begins.
So, since Rand has been somewhat quiet about how social issues come into play, my ears perks up (metaphorically, or course) when I read this. She continues.
Living in a society, instead of on a desert island, does not relieve a man of the responsibility of supporting his own life. The only difference is that he supports his life by trading his products or services for the products or services of others. And, in this process of trade, a rational man does not seek or desire any more or any less than his own effort can earn. What determines his earnings? The free market, that is: the voluntary choice and judgment of the men who are willing to trade him their effort in return.
The idea is that we achieve some things directly, by our own efforts, but so long as we are acting rationally and trading (and not sacrificing or asking others to sacrifice), then we are, as a society, achieving the indirect effects of that rationality and trade. That is, if I’m acting according to my own interests and so are you, what we achieve together is deserved, Just, and earned by both of us.
Is this the future of Galt’s Gulch?
This view is so idealistic, so optimistic, and in a strange way beautiful that I really want to believe it. when I first read Atlas Shrugged, this idea did tug at a part of me. It is a compelling vision, one which shares many of my values and which looks like a world worth working for.
I want to live in a world where people who value effort, responsibility, and (dare I say) fairness that this is their goal. However, when we actually look at those who argue for a free market, I don’t think this is what we get. This optimism of the human potential is not only unrealistic, but it fails to the same problems as before; separating rational interests from whims is a meaningless idea, and we merely end up rationalizing our whims and calling them “reason”.
This is a kind of bait-and-switch. Show me reason and fairness then when I move closer what I get is Ayn Rand’s own personal preferences, rationalized. It bothers me that Rand was unaware of the role of bias, emotion, and privilege in how we think rationally. Even when we are thinking rationally, and using empirical means to solve problems, we must pay attention to whim and irrationality because it is part of thinking rationally (for us humans, anyway) to be swayed by emotions and whims. Logic, after all, is only a tool to apply to the assumptions, feelings, and instincts we have. In the end, logic should weed out the bad ones, but not necessarily.
We cannot separate emotion and rational thought, fundamentally. We can follow the threads of skeptical thought, science, and logic to show which of our emotions, desires, and whims will lead us to a set of goals, values, etc which we want, but in the end all we will have is better emotions, desires, and whims, not some magical substance of reason pulled out of the void.
Reason, rationality, and logic are processes. They are the earned title that whims get when they pass the test of skeptical analysis. Not only are they relevant to ethics, value, etc, but without them ethics, value, and all the other things that matter could not exist at all. Every rational thought, conclusion, or worldview which has ever existed is fundamentally a whim. perhaps it’s not shared by everyone inherently, but that’s how they start. The ones that survive the tests are ones worth considering. The question is which one’s pass all the tests; individual (which is where Rand stops), interpersonal (the realm of ethics), social (the realm of policy, law, and morality), and universality (the supposed role of things like religion, Platonic philosophy, and any other attempt at objective truth, but really might just be a meaningless set).
I actually think that rational thought is just a specific kind of emotional experience, or at least a specific kind of subjective experience which includes emotion and rationality as part of a continuum. But it’s the kind of subjective experience which can be, with effort, sacrifice, and empathy, be shared through language and thus becomes intersubjective. The whims which can be communicated, agreed to, valued, and shared (which is what culture is) are the ones we can address as either rational or not, useful or not, or meaningful or not. But they are still whims; just not mere whims.
Let’s get back to Rand.
When a man trades with others, he is counting—explicitly or implicitly—on their rationality, that is: on their ability to recognize the objective value of his work. (A trade based on any other premise is a con game or a fraud.) Thus, when a rational man pursues a goal in a free society, he does not place himself at the mercy of whims, the favors or the prejudices of others; he depends on nothing but his own effort: directly, by doing objectively valuable work—indirectly, through the objective evaluation of his work by others.
If I were feeling nit-picky (and I am), I would quibble by saying that we recognize the intersubjective value of work. That is, it is work that starts out as subjectively valuable, but when someone else also recognizes the worth of that work, then it becomes intersubjective. At no point here did any objective perspective (like, for example a God) come into play here. There is nothing objective about any of this.
Aside from that quibble, this is all fine in general. It sounds nice, and gives the student of objectivism a warm fuzzy feeling in their chest, but it ignores the fundamental problem which I have been coming back to in this series of posts; there is a real, actual contradiction between selfishness and one’s ability to deal with other people. Our relationships are not mere trades, because to communicate and to interact is fundamentally a process which requires some level of sacrificing one’s “rational” interests. We have to give (potentially) undeserved effort to other people just to comprehend them enough to attempt to trade with them, in many cases.
Yes, we can merely trade goods, effort, and money without digging into the socially structural issues involved, but we can only then trade with those sufficiently similar to us, which leads to the balkanization of social networks. If we seek to trade ideas, goods, etc with a wide range of people, cultures, etc then we need to give more of ourselves.
We cannot understand our privilege, bias, or assumptions without spending some significant time putting other people’s concerns, ideas, and worldviews before our own. The very ability to have empathy, concern, or effort towards social justice of any kind is very difficult while being selfish. The only way one can agree with a position of social justice while being selfish is when the conclusion of the work of social justice happens to cohere with their selfish needs. But what happens when our selfish interests causes dissonance with the idea of social justice? Well, without giving up on selfish interest, all that can happen is self-justification, defensiveness, and rationalization for one’s place of privilege.
A selfish person can parrot the conclusions, enjoy the fruits of, and march along side the empathetic social justice people, but it will be at least partially a charade (perhaps even to oneself while doing it) because the very problem of bias and privilege is founded in the selfish impulse, along with the cognitive dissonance which must accompany it. I’ve known too many people who agree with social justice conclusions, but simply miss the boat when it comes to how what they do violates social justice, whether it takes the form of misogyny, bullying, or harassment.
Back to Ayn Rand. Is there any surprise that those fond of Ayn Rand look down upon social justice? Can there be any doubt that a selfish person could never be more than a poser if they espouse concern for social justice? Could such a person ever really internalize the fundamental concept of social justice outside of where the progress that such social movements coincide with their interests? It’s fine, for example, to have a person who sits on the side of social justice, so long as when it is them who is the perpetrator of some harm they don’t recoil behind a wall of defensiveness, excuses, and rationalization–if not out-right denial that they did anything wrong!
And no, I’m not an exception to such criticism. We all make mistakes, an hopefully we all learn from them. But we have to first be aware that there is a problem, before we can fix anything. We all have to be vigilant, honest, and open to criticism. This criticism, like all my criticism, is aimed at specific people, humanity in general, and at myself. We’re, everyone’s, susceptible.
But, I’m getting caught up in a tangent.
Responsibility
Most people hold their desires without any context whatever, as ends hanging in a foggy vacuum, the fog hiding any concept of means. They rouse themselves mentally only long enough to utter an “I wish,” and stop there, and wait, as if the rest were up to some unknown power.
The idea here is simply a continuation of her criticism that many people hold a magical view about reality in which the help that “welfare states” and such seem to want the help to come from somewhere, somehow. She makes reference to the author of chapter 2 (and some later chapters) Nathaniel Brand in saying that “‘somehow” always means “somebody.'” The implication is that if someone is needy, someone else has to help. Well, yes.
But I found this to be interesting.
But humility and presumptuousness are two sides of the same psychological medal. In the willingness to throw oneself blindly on the mercy of others there is the implicit privilege of making blind demands on one’s masters.
Yes, the entitlement of the needy that we, the masters, should give them crumbs off our table! Not every need is a demand. Not every request for fairness is a demand. The fact that it feels like a demand to them should tell us something about them, although I don’t know exactly what.
What I find interesting here is the use of the term “privilege.” I don’t know enough about the history of the social justice movement to know if this term was used in the way I use it back in 1964, but the association between entitlement and privilege is more complicated than this presentation. Sometimes, the masters take more than they should, while thinking they are taking their fair share, and what ends up happening is inequality that to the “master” looks like justice. The master works harder, hence why they are the master. They are blind to the fact that their taking more than they actually deserve creates a tension which the “entitled” person making “demands” understands better than they do.
This, in essence, is a rationalization for the “Haves” to feel superior to the “Have-nots.” Not because they necessarily deserve it…but since one cannot have without deserving it (“reality”), then I suppose they do necessarily deserve it. Or something. And if one does not have it, then that’s because of “reality” as well. Thus, for those interested in social justice who ask for “handouts,” it is a demand that the masters, who are just following “reality” and understanding “context”, it would be irresponsible to give it to them because they don’t deserve it. Isn’t rationalization great!
Effort
Since a rational man knows that man must achieve his goals by his own effort, he knows that neither wealth nor jobs nor any human values exist in a given, limited, static quantity, waiting to be divided. He knows that all benefits have to be produced, that the gain of one man does not represent the loss of another, that a man’s achievement is not earned at the expense of those who have not achieved it.
Yes, because resources and money are not limited resources. If we all are reasonable, rational, etc then we can all be wealthy, eradicate conflict, and never have to give up on any of our interests. That doesn’t have any contradictions at all.
But this essay has been a little lass straw-man focused, so let’s not ignore this:
It is only the passive, parasitical representatives of the “humility metaphysics” school who regard any competitor as a threat, because the thought of earning one’s position by personal merit is not part of their view of life. They regard themselves as interchangeable mediocrities who have nothing to offer and who fight, in a “static” universe, for someone’s causeless favor.
She goes on in that vein for a while, and it’s all the same trite as before so we don’t have to address it. But then Ayn Rand says something that will sound familiar to those of us in the polyamory community.
He knows also that there are no conflicts of interests among rational men even in the issue of love. Like any other value, love is not a static quantity to be divided, but an unlimited response to be earned. The love for one friend is not a threat to the love for another, and neither is the love for the various members of one’s family, assuming they have earned it. The most exclusive form—romantic love—is not an issue of competition. If two men are in love with the same woman, what she feels for either of them is not determined by what she feels for the other and is not taken away from him. If she chooses one of them, the “loser” could not have had what the “winner” has earned.
Notice that she says “if she chooses one of them,”which could be taken to mean if she chooses either of them or only one of them. I do not know Rand’s views on monogamy (her books seem to espouse some sort of sexual freedom, but not polyamory per se), but this certainly leaves room for nonmonogamy. This is interesting because she seems to have this notion that values, including love, are essentially infinite. This is an idea that has persists throughout the poly community, as we can see from the infinity heart symbol which was the inspiration for the PolySkeptic logo (in combination with the Dawkins scarlet A).
But she also seems to think that resources are limited. Because while love, as well as other values, may be unlimited (which is debatable), the resources for economic growth and prosperity are not unlimited, and so wealth must either be distributed (whether through planned economies of free markets) unevenly or evenly. I am not sure if Rand thought it was possible to have an egalitarian outcome of economics through her Objectivism, but what is clear is that she thinks that the level of inequality that existed then (and it has grown worse since) was Just. People have what they have because they deserve that.
Ah, Just-world fallacies….
So, what’s the conclusion?
Now let us return to the question originally asked—about the two men applying for the same job—and observe in what manner it ignores or opposes these four considerations.
(a) Reality. The mere fact that two men desire the same job does not constitute proof that either of them is entitled to it or deserves it, and that his interests are damaged if he does not obtain it.
(b) Context. Both men should know that if they desire a job, their goal is made possible only by the existence of a business concern able to provide employment—that that business concern requires the availability of more than one applicant for any job—that if only one applicant existed, he would not obtain the job, because the business concern would have to close its doors—and that their competition for the job is to their interest, even though one of them will lose in that particular encounter.
(c) Responsibility. Neither man has the moral right to declare that he doesn’t want to consider all those things, he just wants a job. He is not entitled to any desire or to any “interest” without knowledge of what is required to make its fulfillment possible.
(d) Effort. Whoever gets the job, has earned it (assuming that the employer’s choice is rational). This benefit is due to his own merit—not to the “sacrifice” of the other man who never had any vested right to that job. The failure to give to a man what had never belonged to him can hardly be described as “sacrificing his interests.”
I don’t want to live in Ayn Rand’s world. It’s not that I think her ideal vision is ugly, per se, it’s just that her world is fantasy. She rationalizes what is a real set of conflicts by calling them deserved fruits. She is blind to the fact that rationality cannot be divorced from emotion, bias, whim, and emotion generally. She’s blind to the fact that as a result of this inability to divorce these things, she is rationalizing her own whims into “objective” reality. She’s blind to her own magical thinking, which is exactly the Just-world fallacy, which is essentially the same as victim-blaming.
At bottom, again, her Objectivism is sophomoric philosophy. It’s dressed up subjectivist rationalization. It’s not stupidity but it is myopia. It sounds appealing (even occasionally to me), but all good rationalizations look good with it’s nice shiny new suit on! The Emperor has no clothes, Ayn Rand has no objective truth, and selfishness cannot be ethics The emperor’s garments , ideally, look rational, reasonable, and real but they are merely whims dressed up for a Halloween party, dressed as Reason.
Ginny sometimes writes elsewhere besides PolySkeptic.com, and when she does I think it’s a good idea to inform our readers of that. Today, Ginny posted this article on everyday feminism about what to think about when considering opening up and possibly becoming polyamorous, which is a question that more and more people are doing these days.
(You’ve definitely heard this one before if you’re poly): “I could never do that.”
Sometimes phrases like these are expressions of empowerment and boundary-setting: they’re saying, “I understand myself, what I’m good at and what I’m not, and I can own that without shame. I can’t be all things to all people, and I don’t feel pressure to try.”
Sometimes they’re expressions of insecurity, anxiety, and self-limiting: they’re saying, “I’m uncomfortable being on a learning curve, and I don’t have confidence in my ability to develop new skills and qualities. I’m going to stick with the areas that are familiar and comfortable to me.”
I do both things a lot. I’m very familiar with my skills and limitations. I’m also very protective of the qualities I value in myself: I want to invest most of my time in honing and developing the areas where I’m already strong, and I’m wary of letting go of some of my strengths in an attempt to shore up my weaknesses. This is where I find personality typing systems really valuable; they help me identify and articulate the areas where I’m naturally strong and naturally weak, and they help shape a vision of what it would be like to be the best version of myself, rather than trying to develop myself in all dimensions.
I’ve also done the other one, the self-limiting one. I hate being bad at things, I hate making rookie mistakes, I hate being fumbling and clueless and seeing that others are being patient with me. So I avoid the areas where I’m not already competent, and I set expectations very low when I’m not. I stay away from projects, goals, or activities that I know will call on skills I don’t have. As much as I love learning, in the sense of intellectual exploration and gathering new knowledge, I really kind of hate learning, in the sense of trying and failing and looking awkward and feeling helpless.
I really admire people who can learn gracefully; who can embrace their beginner status and accept instructions and false starts without getting all ego-prickly and sensitive. It’s a skill in and of itself, and it’s one I’ve been slowly working to develop for about ten years now. In ten years, I haven’t gotten very far with it: I still freeze up, panic, or want to run away if I don’t feel competent in a situation. I’ve developed to the point of being able to talk myself through the feelings and making a conscious decision about whether to pursue the new skill or give it up. Maybe not right in the moment, but afterward, when the panic dies down. (And the self-hatred, because for some reason not being awesome at something right off the bat fills me with shame and feelings that I don’t deserve to even be here: definitely in this moment doing this thing, and possibly anywhere doing anything. I know it’s nonsense, but in the moment it’s very persuasive nonsense.)
For me, the decision-making process involves these components:
Realistically, do I think I have the skills I’d need right now to learn this? Every new competency, whether it’s physical or emotional or intellectual, requires supporting skills. Physically, it might be particular muscle strengths or stamina or flexibility. Intellectually, it might be knowledge bases or language systems you need to be familiar with. Emotionally, it might be ability to trust or listen or express yourself. I have a tendency to want to jump straight at the cool big thing, assuming that I’ll pick up the supporting skills on the way. This works about as well as deciding to compete in a triathlon while barely being able to swim. Sometimes you have to step back and focus on one of the supporting skills before going for the big goal.
What is learning this going to do for me? Will it make me happier? Improve my relationships? Increase my financial stability? I imagine two versions of myself: one where I’ve developed this skill to a point of reasonable competence, and one where I’ve accepted that it’s not something I’m ever going to be able to do well. I look at what I gain in the first scenario, and what I lose in the second, and get a sense of what the new skill is actually worth to me.
What is learning this going to cost me? At the very least, being me, I know it’s likely to cost quite a few hours of the panic and self-hatred I described above. Beyond that, how much time is it going to take? What else could I be doing with that time? What else could I be doing with the emotional energy I’ll be spending on talking myself down from the anxieties? How much strain am I under already, and can I afford to take on some more? Will learning this risk losing other things that I like and value about myself?
Alongside the cost assessment, I consider my current situation. If I’m already embroiled in one or two challenging or emotionally difficult pursuits, maybe this isn’t a good time to take up another one.
I take all the information from these assessments, and then ask this:
Would pursuing this skill right now be a loving thing to do for myself?
When it comes to other people, people I love, I have a pretty good sense for the line between “this will be hard for you but it’ll be worth it” and “there’s no sense beating yourself up to make this work.” When it comes to someone else, my ego isn’t involved, so I don’t have the confounding factors of, “I hate the idea of never being competent at this” or “It’s going to be way too embarrassing or uncomfortable to struggle through the newbie phases of this.” In making the decision for myself, I try to get to that same attitude of loving detachment, to see what’s actually going to be the healthier choice. Then I stick with that decision — even when, snapped back into my own ego-bound perspective, everything in me cringes away from it.
Sometimes the loving thing to do is say, “Suck it up, girl… you want this, you can do it, embrace the hard stuff and push through because it’ll be worth it in the end.” Sometimes it’s, “You are already awesome at W, X, and Y… you can let Z go. That’s not you, and it doesn’t have to be.”
I am now aware that we need some pictures of poly families in front of this
Over the last several months, as I was looking for work, I kept limiting my searches to the Philadelphia area. In addition to the fact that I really love Philadelphia, the simple fact is that I have many connections here. And in addition to the various family and friends that are in the area, the majority of my lovers are local. Moving would, therefore, mean a shift in the nature of those local relationships. For me specifically, having a local relationship become a long-distant relationship would be a painful and unhappy transition. I very much like close physical proximity to my partners, as physical intimacy (and by that I don’t just mean sex) is very important to me in a relationship.
Therefore, I feel anchored to Philadelphia. The fact that this town has been my home for the vast majority of my life does not hurt either. The idea, then, of moving to another city (because I don’t want to be far from a major city for more than the time a vacation might take) fills me with sadness and anxiety. Thus, I have been limiting my searches to local opportunities, career-wise. What would i do if offered a really good job faraway? I don’t know. It would have to be a damned good offer. I wouldn’t mind a job that was partially travel, however. I think I would actually like that.
Monogamous couples may, therefore, have an advantage that many polyamorous people may not have. The nature of sharing, creating networks or families, and finding those people locally which is often common in polyamorous relationships means re-locating for a new job opportunity, or whatever else might cause a move to a new city or region, might be more difficult than it might be for a monogamous family. Leaving a place, when polyamorous, might also include leaving behind people.
That is, even if I did win the lottery and wanted to buy a house in Italy, I may have to leave behind people I’d rather see frequently. So, if I win the lottery, I guess I’m buying a large house in West Philly. Then spend a month of the worst of winter in Italy, or wherever. Because winter sucks. Seriously, go away winter! You suck. Also, I don’t play the lottery, so that’s not likely.
Now, there are many polyamorous people who have partners of various level of intimacy who live all over their country or the world. Some people are able to maintain long-distance relationships, where the people involved may only see each other a few times a year or less, while keeping some local relationships as well. Certainly, being polyamorous does not require that our partners be close to us, geographically. It just makes it easier, in many ways.
Certainly the ability to travel frequently will be a function of wealth, and while polyamory might seem to be dominated by relatively wealthy people, there are many people who are polyamorous for whom taking a plane, train, or automobile to visit someone 1000 miles away may not be realistic. Hell, I have a lover who lives less than 2 hours away (by car) who I may not see easily for a while. Timing and scheduling is also an issue, even if I have the money to make the trip.
But even in situations where one might have long-distance partners and lovers, any potential move might cause changes in the frequency of visits, especially as you move farther away from some and possibly closer to others.
Certainly, this implies that the more remote or spread out communities are, the more an issue location becomes. In major cities, such as New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, etc (yes, including Philadelphia), you will find a greater opportunity for creating larger networks, families, and communities of polyamorous people. Meetup groups, facebook pages, and other tools for interconnection make creating closer networks more possible, and will allow you to find like-minded people in your area. That is the major advantage of metropolitan living, and one of the reasons I think city-living is awesome. Of course, I just love cities, so I’m likely rationalizing, but not completely.
More remote locations, far away from cities, will have a harder time making connections to local people. Of course, as various types of non-monogamy spread in our culture, this problem may alleviate itself, assuming that all of the wierdos (and I love wierdos, so I’m not using that in a deroigatory manner) don’t move into the cities. Certainly, the phenomenon of wierdos moving to metropolitan areas, and out of the boonies, is a trend many of us have noticed. But there are still many of us wierd people out there in the sticks, and if they want like-minded companionship they may have to rely on the internet to communicate with them, unless they have already snagged those people in their web of sticky, booniness. Hopefully not without consent; there are enough stereotypes about wierd people in the boonies already.
Of course, the internet has been a huge boon to social connections of all kinds, and certainly the increased ability to communicate has helped the polyamorous as well as the atheist communities, and will continue to accelerate their growth in terms of exposure, understanding, and even the spreading of our good news (monogamy is not the only way! Tell your friends!). This tool of interconnection will allow people of all locations, boonies, suburbs, or city, to find people that may provide joy, growth, and intimacy to their lives. And then when we go out into the world for whatever reasons we do so, we might have a better idea of where to go.
In terms of actual physical closeness, insofar as that is a factor that matters to specific people, the interconnections we create may tend to anchor us to a specific region, city, or even neighborhood. And if those people in the boonies do want to move, they have the option of moving closer to other poeple that they want to be near. It makes me wonder how poly people compare to everyone else in terms of mobility; how often they move, how far they move, etc. I have no idea what those numbers would look like, and I don’t know if anyone else does either (if anyone is likely to know, Elisabeth Sheff is probably the person).
The other side of this issue of being anchored to a location by relationships is that I get to feel more at home where I am. Philadelphia, and the surrounding suburbs, is my home. If I’m in South Philly, I’m near home. I’f I’m north of Vine, I’m not far from one partner. If I’m over in South Jersey, I’m near another. The more connections I have nearby, the more it feels like home. And of course, if I’m in West Philly, downtown, or even out in the near suburbs, I feel at home. But, that’s always been the case for me. And now that I’m back in the city, I find that I’m really looking forward to long walks in warm weather. I’m so done with winter!
Each relationship is it’s own thing. Yes, when you date people who know each other, are friends, or who may also be lovers, there will be aspects of your relationships with them which overlap and interact, but each relationship needs to be its own entity, at least to some degree.
There are many levels of desired control, information, and involvement with metamours (partners of partners). Some people don’t need or want to know much, and they may never be close to your other partners. Some people really love the idea of closeness, friendship, and possibly more from metamours. There are all sorts of conversations about boundaries, rules, or possibly even vetoes that happen in the polyamorous community when it comes to the people our partners have relationships with. Some people set close guidelines, others do not.
My preference for how boundaries, rules, and even vetoes should be applied leans more towards relationship independence, while recognizing that our partners should be listened to, at very least, when it comes to the other people we develop intimacy with. The closer we are to a partner, the more their opinion should matter, but it should never be the only factor.
In some cases, the complicated inter-relations between multiple partners will create unique situations where 3, 4, or more people all mesh together in a special way, and the individual boundaries may disappear (to some degree, at least) and give way to shared intimacy. Insofar as this can and does occasionally happen, the one-on-one nature of intimacy starts to give way to some degree, and if this happens then it can be rewarding. But in most cases, whether with polyamory, monogamy, etc, each relationship will build up its own intimacy and boundaries, and those intimacies need to be respected.
That said, I’d like to address some thoughts about various factors that come into play when it comes to establishing guidelines, rules, and vetoes.
Physical risk
Obviously, the more people we are having sex with, and the more people those people are having sex with, increases the likelihood of STIs. Within a responsible community or network of people, this can be minimized by regular STI-testing, by creating a sort of firewall either through family fluid bonding or other methods of creating a physical boundary between you and the general population and other families/networks. But no matter how you address it, the reality of STI’s is usually an important factor for anyone who is sexually active with more than one person, whose partners are in the same situation. If your sexual network reaches outside of an enclosed group, and reaches the general population, STI’s can get in.
Some people are much more anxious about this than others. But whether you are one of those people who is more anxious about such a consideration or not, if someone you are involved with is, then it should become an important consideration for you. Setting guidelines or rules about safe sex sex is a legitimate request for a partner to make, because the consequences extend beyond the two people involved, and could possibly effect other partners. Assuming, of course, that an STI makes its way into your network, which can again be minimized by regular testing, maintaining good safe sex firewalls around your network/family, etc.
I’m of the opinion that the degree to which a partner is closed off from the greater network or population, sexually, the anxiety about STI’s should decrease, and the rules and guidelines around protections against STI infection should reflect that by being relaxed, assuming that everyone involved is comfortable with that. Being a person who is less anxious about those considerations, I realize I’m in a place of privilege here, and will not expound as to what degree people should attempt to overcome such anxieties.
Emotional risk
Even in a world without the concern for unwanted STIs (and pregnancy, of course), there are still emotional considerations to take into account. In previous posts, I have argued that emotional concerns are the responsibility of the individual, and that other people are not responsible for how we feel about their relationships with other people. And while I agree that feelings of envy, jealousy, etc are ultimately our own responsibility, I believe that it is morally superior to take the attitude that how our actions with one partner affect our relationships with and the feelings of our other partners is relevant to us all. In short, we need to care about our partners, but we should at very least be aware of how our actions might emotionally affect their other partners.
The closer metamours are, in space or intimacy, the more it matters that consideration and care are accounted for. Depending on the closeness of metamours (especially if they cohabitate), there is a responsibility to consider the effects of their actions and relationships on others, as well as the effect on their immediate partners. So while I don’t think that a metamour is always responsible for how another feels, in general a metamour should be considerate and aware of how their behavior and attitude might affect those around them. They may not be responsible for the feelings, but they should at least attempt to be aware that those feelings exist and why.
Insofar as what a pair does in private, the emotional effects of those actions will depend on many factors, perhaps too many to diagram or parse out (so I won’t try). Outside of actions with health consequences, what people do in private should have little or nothing to do with what any of those people might do with other people or how those other people feel. Private intimacy is private (if you want it to be), and those relationships we have are important in their own right, even if another tangential relationship might have existed longer or may even be a marriage.
My partner going out and having a kind of sex that I might be envious or jealous of is my problem, not theirs. And while there may be specific examples where some moral responsibility comes into play in such cases, in general creating boundaries, rules, and even vetoes in terms of what your partner is allowed to do with other people is usually a means to protect our feelings, which are usually fears. And while those feelings matter, those feelings are not sufficient by themselves to create rules or vetoes about specific kinds of actions.
If my partner really wants to have sex with someone, and I’m uncomfortable with that, my demanding that they don’t do so is crossing a line in most cases. I may choose to have their decisions effect how I want to relate with them, but I should not demand that my feelings effect what actions they take elsewhere, assuming those decision will not expose me to physical risk. If I’m in a situation where their acting on desires will hurt me, I have some responsibility to find out why I’m being affected, not merely demand they don’t do the affecting thing. If that ‘why’ turns out to be that I don’t want to share, that’s different from a feeling of inadequacy or fear of my partner leaving me, and needs to be addressed by a different solution.
And while some temporary boundaries may be helpful for beginners, in the long run they merely address the symptoms (the feelings themselves) rather than the cause (insecurity concerning the strength of the relationship, for example). Those causes are not fixed or addressed with boundaries, they are addressed by dealing with them directly. That’s harder, but it’s also a means to a long-term strategy rather than the emotional triage which rules and guidelines seem to be designed to deal with. Triage may be a useful skill when shit gets hard, but they are temporary solutions at best. In the long term, the goal should be to deal with the fundamental causes, rather than the fears about this particular action or feeling.
The intimacy, love, and quality of activities I have with a partner are about that partner primarily. How my other partners feel about that does matter, but they are not always the primary considerations I have to be aware of in deciding how to continue or discontinue those activities. My relationship with person A has to be it’s own thing, and how much I involve other people in that relationship will depend on the desires and comfort of all involved. Sometimes, that involvement can be quite open. Sometimes, the boundaries between relationships melt away into transparency and shared intimacy.
Voyeurism and Sharing
There are times when the relationship we have with one person will open up or bleed into a relationship we have with another person. There are times when you can all hang out together, be intimate (whether emotionally or physically), or possibly even make commitments as a group. But even when these things are true, there will probably always be aspects of individual relationships that won’t be shared. There will be special inside jokes, ways you show affection, or even places you go that are special to that relationship. It is the idiosyncratic little bits of private moments, feelings, and times which set relationships apart from each other, and it is these things that we may miss most if the relationship ends.
In situations where groups of people decide to make their lives more intertwined, it is possible for the walls that separate the individual relationships to become more transparent. Whether people cohabitate, enter into group commitments, or merely spend lots of time with each other the likeliness of this happening increases. And once people get to theses stages of polyamorous intermingling of relationships, those walls usually do become thinner (both metaphorically and literally). Boundaries, in those cases, become a different animal because of the increased intimacy.
With increased closeness with metamours, come greater need for consideration and attention to how we interact with the world around us. And at this point the question becomes less about what our partners do with their other partners in private (although that may still be an issue), but also what they do in more open settings. The closer we are with the network of people we are involved with, the more we will see of the intimate moments between people we love and who they love. This can have rewards, but it can also expose areas of conflict. Boundaries, rules, and vetoes becomes a question of everyday, or at least frequent, attention. Where metamours might become family, all of the dynamics of family interaction and negotiation come into play.
And when polyamory becomes family, all the issues will surface. Your issues, their issues, and issues you may not have known existed. Issues may develop that never existed before. Respect, communication, and honesty with oneself are necessary if such a thing will succeed. Because as boundaries melt away, we remain exposed to each other in ways that we might not be prepared for. And when it falls apart, it can be devastating.
Walls
Many of us build walls around certain aspects of ourselves, for varying reasons. Sometimes, those walls surround us completely, sometimes we build them towards specific people, and sometimes we merely pull a person or two inside our walls and keep the rest away. Boundaries, rules, and vetoes are like walls.
Walls can be useful things. They keep out those who might harm us, they protect us from the cold outside world, and they help support the metaphorical roof over our head as well as define what is our space. There are harmful things in the world, and walls help keep them at bay, when they need to be kept away. Boundaries, when they are devised to protect us from physical harm, are an important tool to use, and when they seek to create safe spaces for ourselves and those close to us. They help keep us emotionally and mentally healthy.
But walls can also separate us when they don’t need to. Sometimes they only seem to protect us, rather than to unnecessarily push people away when letting more people in might bring us more perspective or positive relationships which we might bristle against at first. When we find those who we want to be within our walls, it is greatly beneficial to allow them inside, but it isn’t always obvious who those people will be before we let them in.
In practice, I tend to build walls to easily and end up keeping people further away than they need to be. It is a part of myself I seek to change, and this behavior has consequences for me and people close to me. Therefore, I worry about the impulse to keep people out as a default more than I worry about being too open. Those who have been hurt by being open (and I include myself in that category) may tend to be more cautious, for perhaps good reasons. And yet I worry whether that the reactionary nature of such wall/boundary building is problematic. I also worry that if I manage to heal my wounds and open up more, I might be equally reactionary in the opposite direction, in exposing myself too much to harm.
I worry about putting walls or relationship boundaries where they do more harm than good, or which are merely unnecessary. I worry about putting bricks in unnecessary walls. I also worry about being hurt when I take those walls down. I also worry that I worry too much. I never meta-worry I didn’t worry about, I suppose.
Our relationships, and the intimacy within them, are important and–dare I say it–sacred. The boundaries we make around them should not be about protection only, they should be more about creating the necessary space we desire to enjoy that intimacy. They should not be primarily about keeping others out, they should be primarily be about creating the desired space to let the person we are with in. And if that means keeping others out sometimes, then so be it. But we should, perhaps, error a bit on the side of letting other people in. That’s my bias, anyway.
I’m striving to let more people in. There’s lots of room inside the palatial walls I have built for myself.
A couple of days ago, Cunning Minx posted an article on polyweekly.com which I read yesterday, entitled “Everyone is doing poly wrong and needs to die in a fire.” The post was about how we need to step back and be more tolerant of differences in evaluating the many philosophies of polyamory. The gist seems to be that there is not one universal way of doing polyamory, and we should not hold our own lifestyle as superior to how others approach non-monogamy.
Overall, I believe that Cunning Minx made some accurate and true observations, but I have a few things I want to explore related to the question of whether there are better ways to do polyamory. Essentially, I believe that there may not be one best way to do polyamory, but I do believe that there are some non-monogamous practices that will be better in general and specifically (for certain people). Let’s look at some parts of Cunning Minx’s article and see if we can tease out some things.
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Let’s start from the basic premise: those of us participating in online forums, posting opinions on blogs or Facebook and attending conferences with poly tracks are all either practicing or interested in practicing polyamory. Or non-monogamy. Or swinging. Or open marriage.
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We all have opinions, some of them quite strong. And those opinions are not all the same.
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So why are so many of us so vehement in our desire to demean, judge and exclude others?
Well, to answer that, we have to remember that judging is not necessarily a bad thing. Criticism is not always uncivil. Demeaning others is a different story, and I try not to do it, and I will only exclude people from my life, not from the community (as if one could do such a thing). I will not use mere semantics to ostracize anyone, even if such an attempt made any sense.
There are some times when someone acts in such a way that perhaps they have merited some criticism (I’m certainly not immune to that). Or perhaps a poly triad, network, etc has created a set of rules, guidelines, etc which end up not working for whatever reasons. Those facts are empirically and logically valid subjects for criticism, so long as we practice good critical thinking skills, compassion, and listening skills. As a community, if we seek to make ourselves better and to improve our understanding of ourselves, relationships, and each other we may occasionally need to judge and criticize one-another. We also need to accept such criticism from others.
We may, in fact, need to keep our critical thinking skills sharp, and thus judge pretty regularly. The question is whether our judgment is sound, fair, and compassionate.
To be fair, I understand why we do this. Since polyamory is an alternative relationship structure, most of us have worked very hard at defining what polyamory is for us. We try poly once and make a mess of it. We try again, and it works better, so we decide that what we did the first time was wrong. We try again, and it works better for us, so we decide that we need to advise everyone coming after us that the way we are doing it now is the right way to do polyamory, and every other way is wrong.
I understand what Minx is saying here, and I agree with what I understand to be the point; that we should not conclude that we know that our way of doing things is universally best and that there might be different structures that work for different personalities, circumstances, etc.
But I want to make sure that we are not missing the nuance here. There may, in fact, be things that newer (or even more experienced!) polyamorous people are doing, which we have seen or done ourselves, which might benefit from our experience, judgment, and criticism. It may even be possible that some practices are almost always harmful, whether generally or to specific people. Or, it might be the case that we see that the behavior is not ideal for these people, for these reasons. Now, I agree that in our attempts to talk about such things we should approach the problem in a way conducive to understanding rather than demeaning, but I don’t want the conclusion to be that we should never criticize or judge other people’s way of doing things.
As she says:
But please, I beg of you, let’s stop judging others so harshly, even after we’ve discovered a brand of polyamory that works for us. Before critiquing others based on your personal definitions of what poly is or isn’t, first perform a quick self-check: would you like it if someone told you you weren’t really poly? Would you want someone telling you that your marriage wasn’t real? Would you like for someone else to define what love or commitment means for you? So let’s not impose our definitions and experiences on others.
Right. Agreed. However, there is a difference between imposing our definitions and experiences and putting them in context in order to evaluate the effects of behavior, (again) whether generally or specifically. In short, the conversation about how to best do polyamory is not purely subjective or relative (although, just like ethics, it is partially both of those things), but is rather intersubjective and contextual.
I also agree that the “you’re not polyamorous” discussions are not especially helpful in terms of figuring out what is good for us, since it’s hung up on the term itself rather than its antecedent. Just like the conversations about “you’re not an atheist” or “you are an atheist” are not especially important in the larger scheme, even if having a clear definition of the term “atheist”might be of some importance in itself (at least to people interested in such things). So long as we don’t slip into the realm of stretching terms such as “polyamory” and “non-monogamy” into meaningless terms that could mean anything (and therefore nothing), I don’t see a problem.
The larger issue is a wider understanding and acceptance of more relationship styles, as well as the ability to try to figure out what works best for people, in terms of relationships, and why. Whether we call someone “polyamorous” is, perhaps, an interesting semantic conversation, but whether a group of people fall into “polyamory,” “swinging,” “monogamish” (ugh), etc is not as relevant as whether what they are doing is fulfilling, healthy, and consensual.
In the BDSM world, there is a philosophy that folks are encouraged to embrace. Since BDSM involves exposure to a plethora of fetishes and kinks that we may only not share but may actively dislike, folks are encouraged to be accepting. Even when exposed to a kink that incites disgust, we are encouraged to embrace the notion of “your kink isn’t my kink, but your kink is OK.” Let’s please do that with polyamory as well. Let’s stop spending our time judging others and telling them they are doing poly wrong and simply agree to say:
Your polyamory is not my polyamory, but your polyamory is OK.
But what if it isn’t? There must be room for us to evaluate whether how someone’s relationship affects everyone involved might not be optimal for them. Granted, the fact that some practice or another didn’t work for me (or us) is not sufficient, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it could also not be a good practice for others, either. The question is not whether your relationship structure could work for me, it’s whether it is working for you! And it is sometimes the case that we (all of us!) are not the best judges of what is best for us (not to say that anyone is a better judge necessarily, just that we might be wrong in our opinions, for many reasons). Sometimes, the perspective of others is the only way to see past our blinders.
Let me be clear and say that I think that this criteria is relevant for all human behavior. Following Sam Harris’s concept of the Moral Landscape, I believe that there are actual empirical (and thus, not merely subjective) ways we can (in principle) evaluate whether a (set of) behavior(s) is better than another. Similarly, I believe that there may be be many “peaks” (continuing Harris’ metaphor) in the polyamorous landscape which represent a set of possible healthy ways to be polyamorous. What makes them healthy is partially subjective, partially based in personality dynamics, and partially ‘objective.’
To summarize what that analogy implies, I believe that while there may be no single universally better way to approach relationships (whether polyamorous or otherwise), I believe that we can identify unhealthy or even immoral behaviors within the logically possible space of (polyamorous) relationships which, once we can evaluate them, we should be willing to criticize and avoid. The other side of that coin is that there may be many better ways, many “peaks” in the poly landscape, to be polyamorous well.
In terms of this analogy I think that Minx is saying, in her article, that when we yell at each other from our various metaphorical peaks to criticize the lifestyle of another peak, we may be stepping off the edge of our own peak. There is a difference between the benefit of your experience allowing you to see potential cliffs and shaky ground in the path up to the various peaks and seeing another peak as inferior to ours because it doesn’t work for us. And sometimes, we may even understand that some person or group might be on the wrong mountain, and maybe we can point them to another one as an alternative. Some peaks are better than others for some people.
Cunning Minx’s discussion next is about how we should approach situations where we might be concerned or critical.
When someone is kind enough to share with you his poly situation, it is our job to listen, to ask questions and to offer support if asked for it. Labels are the beginning of a discussion and an invitation to ask more questions, not the be-all and end-all. So when someone says, “I’m polyamorous,” my favorite tool to whip out is:
Tool #1: “Cool! So what does that mean to you?”
I believe it’s not anyone’s job (including mine!) to judge and tell someone she is doing poly wrong. Criticism like that only serves to puff up the speaker with a sense of power and to disempower the person sharing his story. If you truly believe that someone you’re speaking with is doing something horribly wrong, a good way to offer an option without judging is, “My experience has been… ” and share your story. See? No judgment necessary.
I hate to jump on this pet peeve again, but this is judgment. When you offer another perspective, in order to address what appears problematic to you, you are judging. I would ask Minx to consider that rather than frame this as “don’t judge,” we should all think about this as “judge fairly and with compassion.” Judgment is a neutral exercise, and can be done harshly or with compassion, but it is all judgment.
Tool #2: “My experience has been… “
One caveat, since I know someone will ask: yes, I do have a personal belief about a “wrong” way to do polyamory based on the dictionary definition involving the “full knowledge and consent of all parties involved.” So if, for example, a person self-identifies as poly and has an additional partner that his wife is unaware of, I personally am more inclined to label that “cheating” rather than polyamory due to the fact that his wife doesn’t have knowledge and therefore can’t consent. However, my response is not “you’re not really poly” but rather, “In my experience, poly tends to work best when everyone involved is honest, open and consenting. Have you tried talking with your wife about that?” to open up a conversation rather than impose a judgment.
This is good advice if your concern is to not to activate the defense mechanisms of biases, cognitive dissonance, etc within your interlocutor. Some people don’t care about that, and will ignore this advice because of that lack of empathy or concern. I am becoming increasingly sensitive to this, and am making an effort to be more compassionate and constructive in my judgment and criticism. The bottom line is whether you want to have a constructive conversation or if you just want to finesse up some clever quips. I do love me some clever quips (Hitchslaps, anyone?), but in most cases I want a conversation and will try and heed this advice.
I’ve read a few assertions from intelligent poly folk of late that claim that anyone who defines poly or poly family as [fill in the blank] is wrong and needs to “die in a fire” because that doesn’t match the writer’s or speaker’s own experience.
I don’t know about you, but I dislike it when someone who isn’t in my shoes and who hasn’t lived my life tries to tell me what my poly experience should be. It brings to mind right-wing extremists who claim that they have the right to define what marriage is for everyone else. Or what “family” or “family values” are for everyone else.
Word.
If we don’t want others to define marriage or family for us, let’s not do that to each other. The person who gets to define your brand of polyamory is YOU. No one else. And the ONLY person for whom you get to define polyamory is you. Share your definition with your loves, your partners and anyone who asks for it, but please don’t impose it on others or judge others who have chosen to do poly a different way from you. Offer to listen; offer support; offer discussion,;offer your own anecdotes. But please do not offer judgments or critiques. We have the aforementioned right-wing extremists for that.
If you don’t like it when others judge your lifestyle, maybe you should stop judging theirs.
But I don’t mind when other people judge my lifestyle. I like it a lot less when they do so without compassion, fairness, or when they don’t know me well, but I don’t mind judgment per se.
Further, I don’t think other people should mind judgment per se. So while I agree that the arguments about whether someone is a true polyTM are not especially helpful or interesting, the conversation about whether one’s actual relationship structures are healthy are helpful, and we should all be open to such judgment and criticism.
If you are lucky enough to have found a brand of non-monogamy, polyamory, swinging or open relationships that works for you, GREAT! Many of us take months or years to figure out what we need in order to be happy and healthy in our relationships. And please do share that with others when asked: many of us are looking for models, ideas and roadmaps that might work for us.
So please, share rather than critique. Listen rather than judge. And communicate your definition as an option rather than imposing it as a rule.
The tendency, among progressive minded people, to demonize the practices of judgment and criticism is wrong-headed, in my opinion. Criticize and judge after listening, and continue to listen while you communicate your judgment and criticism. We, progressive-minded people, need to stop looking at criticism and judgment as bad, reactionary, right wing efforts. They are critical thinking tools, not weapons. They can be used as weapons, sure, but so can hands. Hands are also one of the means by which we can show affection, love, and lust. Similarly, if wielded properly, judgment and criticism can be wielded with affection, love, and, well, maybe not lust (but who knows!).
And as a final word, absolutely no person or concept should “die in a fire” or “burn in hell.” Let’s just say “My experience has been… “
Amen. My experience as been that many people may not be doing relationships in a way best for them, and we should all be open to the conversations which will evaluate whether that is the case or not. So long as we try to listen and understand first, of course.
Here is a video by youtuber Jess D, wherein he talks about humanism and polyamory. I think the video is generally good, although I have some minor issues with his discussion about whether polyamory is “natural” or not. This has mostly to do with my pet peeve of making a distinction between “natural” and human actions, but I also believe there is some equivocation going on there. Otherwise, it’s a fairly good introduction to polyamory from a humanist;s point of view, and worth the 14 minutes or so.