Monogamy And The Transaction Spectrum
Trigger warning: The word “preference” is used a total of 20 times.
All relationships are in some way transactional. In the purest form, it’s just an exchange of time and pleasure, where both partners contribute equally and without any sacrifice. It’s shared-preference fulfillment.
Say I’m into artsy, petite, submissive people and I enjoy giving massages and spankings; My partner fits all those physical traits, is into nerdy, tall, extroverts and enjoys getting massages and being spanked. A “transaction” of sorts can be seen as happening, in that we are both “fulfilling” our preference and getting something in return. But thinking of it as a transaction is really weird, after all, we basically just enjoy spending time together in a romantic setting, there’s no “effort” on either part, it just so happens that who we are at the time matches with who the other person is.
The other side of the transactional spectrum is something like sex work. Which is obviously a transactional fulfillment of preferences. One person has money to spare and wants physical intimacy, the other needs money and isn’t too picky about who they give physical intimacy to. Both partners are exchanging something they don’t necessarily want to part ways with, they just value it less than what they get in return. It’s conflicting-preference fulfillment.
This is especially sad because most of the enjoyment I, and I think many people, get out of romantic relationships comes from a positive feedback loop of intimacy. Where they slowly reveal their preferences, and they slowly see the other’s preferences revealed, and this mutual exploration keeps enhancing pleasure which leads to more exploration, which leads to more pleasure, and so forth. Essentially, your partner is encouraging you to want more of the thing you enjoy, and in the process enjoying themselves more, and vice-versa.
The ideal match for shared-preference fulfillment is one where the other person can act out their deepest romantic/sexual desires and they will exactly match your deepest romantic/sexual desires. Behaving selflessly and behaving selfishly in the relationship are one and the same thing. In practice, a perfect match doesn’t exist, and preferences change over time, but it’s the platonic ideal guiding a healthy relationship.
On the other extreme of the transactional spectrum, conflicting-preference fulfillment, we can go back to the sex-work example. The ideal relationship is one where the other party doesn’t get any of their preferences fulfilled. The ideal date for a sex worker is probably one where a client gives them a large sum of money, then decides they are busy and ought to live a minute afterward, giving them back their time. The ideal date for a sex worker’s client is one where the sex worker doesn’t ask for any money and instead decides they’ll be physically intimate with them just for the sake of it. There’s no positive feedback loop to be had because both parties desire other things; For one of them to act selfishly and get more of what they desire without giving back something they’d rather keep, will be a disservice to the other.
Thus far this all makes sense, but until recently, what didn’t click for me, was how monogamy is situated on this transactional spectrum.
The classical and strongest form of monogamy, lifetime sexual exclusivity combined with joining each other’s assets via marriage, is actually a form of conflicting-preference fulfillment.
Even if monogamy starts from the fulfillment of shared preferences, the monogamous contract itself is meant to prohibit a partner from acting out if their preferences ever change.
Say I’m really into you now because you are adventure-seeking biotechnology with a latex fetish that enjoys anarchist musicians; You are a rebellious punk guitarist that like dressing in latex and wants to learn more about biology. If we establish a marriage contract, its purpose right now is moot, we’re both so into each other that we wouldn’t even bother seeking other partners and forgo giving pleasure to each other, we can act in as selfish of a way as we want, and our partner will be thrilled about it, it’s the ideal “being liked for who you are” scenario.
The purpose of a marriage contract is to guard against a situation 5 years from now, when I’ve become a family-oriented asexual businessman, and you’ve become a hypersexual antinatalist orchestra pianist. At that point, the marriage contract comes in and forces us to compromise on our conflicting preferences, unless we want the social and legal consequences of a divorce.
Even the moment it’s formed, a monogamous contract is to some extent based on trying to “guard” a partner against finding someone better suited to their preferences, which, while not conflicting with their object-level preferences, conflicts with their meta-preferences.
To some extent, I can see the benefits of this. If you want to e.g. raise a kid, having a mechanism to force you to compromise for the sake of your shared project is useful and ethical. It can also be beneficial for some people in that it’s a trigger to “stop” an aimless and unfulfilling search for novelty, it’s a way of committing to the idea that this person is good enough, and for the moment you’ll try to derive the maximum amount of pleasure together, instead of thinking about what-could-be.
On the other hand, this seems terribly coercive towards both partners, and it helps me clarify the deep unease I have about monogamy. I personally hate coercive relationships and all forms of exchanges where the other party suffers any “loss”, even if on the whole both of us come out ahead.
I’d rather buy sushi from a guy which has always dreamt of being a chef and couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else. I’d rather watch a play directed by a girl that loves theater and is free to write whatever he hearts desires. I’d rather go for a walk with a friend that could think of nothing better to do that morning than enjoy my company and conversation. And I’d rather be sexual with someone whose deepest kinky desire at that moment happens to coincide with mine.
Maybe this is all too idealistic, and I can certainly see the benefits of maintaining a long-term relationship, even if polyamorous, and how that would have to involve some reconciliation of conflicting preferences. But at the same time, I’d avoid glorifying transactional and mediation skills as the means for having an ideal relationship, as is often done nowadays. Rather, it seems much more important to focus on finding people with shared preferences and be fluid in your relationships in such a way that you’re able to accommodate your evolving desires, as well as those of your partners.