COLUMN: An institution not to cherish

From Cila Warncke's, "Bigmouth Strikes Again," Fall '00 From Cila Warncke's, "Bigmouth Strikes Again," Fall '00Marriage is about security, possession, property and entitlement. It's about having someone to promise to love you till death does you part, to put a ring on your finger and give you a status -- husband or wife, misses or mister. Is marriage really all that it is cracked up to be, though? Can signing a license and saying "I do" really make you happier, more secure, more fulfilled and ultimately more complete as a human being? And what about the argument that marriage is necessary for creating stable families and confident, happy, well-adjusted children? In response, I can only say that the happiest couple I know is proudly, defiantly unwed. And have been for more than 20 years. They are the parents of my friend Clare, and meeting them convinced me that all I have ever been told about the importance of marriage is only propaganda. Paul and Chris are perhaps an unusual couple. He is a scientist, she is a homeopath. His hobbies include long-distance running and rock-climbing, while she prefers more sedentary pursuits. However, out of their differences, they have made a remarkable union, one characterized by mutual understanding and a belief in the importance of autonomy within relationships. It doesn't come as much of a surprise to hear that they were counter-culture from their youth. "Your country wouldn't let my mom in because she was a hippie," Clare teased me, telling me how, in the '60s, Chris eventually flew to Mexico and snuck across the border into the States. While in America, Clare's mother married and became a citizen. But when she divorced, she tore up her papers and returned to England, simultaneously renouncing both America and marriage. With Paul, though, things were different. They decided that the most sensible approach to their relationship was to acknowledge that they might want to occasionally go their separate ways -- and that was all right. And, in a remarkable triumph of living with reality, they have lived happily together for over two decades. Moreover, they have two lovely, confident, independent-minded daughters -- no mean feat in this day and age. In fact, I often envy my friend Clare for her equanimity and pragmatic outlook on life. No matter what kind of turmoil we face, she is always the clever, sensible one who can be counted on to put everyone's muddled emotions back in perspective. None of this is, I think, coincidental. Clare herself readily says that she admires her parents and has modeled her attitudes on theirs. Perhaps most persuasively, she is the only one of my close friends to have a really secure, happy relationship. On the flip side of the coin is another dear friend, one who was born to a respectably married couple and who had to watch the marriage dissolve as she grew up. "It has got to be the most degrading thing in the world," she told me, referring to her mother's ignorance of her father's infidelities. "Everyone knew except for her." Even his daughter. And when it all came apart, there she was, stuck in the middle. She is more like her father, by her own admission, yet torn by the anger that one must feel at seeing their mother so misused. "I never want to be like her," she said, eyes wide with the latent fear that her parents' mistakes will play themselves out in her life. Certainly, one cannot generalize about all marriages, or all relationships, from a handful of examples. But I do believe that the institution of marriage is obsolete and harmful in that it places emphasis on the wrong things. Getting married is about assuring patriarchal succession, about cementing property rights, about doing what religion and culture say we ought to do. All of which means less than nothing in human terms. What couples ought to focus on is their relationships, not the trappings of those relationships. If you find a partner who truly suits you, if you create a bond based upon trust, respect, forgiveness and a commitment to shared values, then a marriage license isn't worth more than the paper on which it's printed.