"The idea of this 'virtual representation' is the most contemptible that ever entered into the head of a man. It does not deserve a serious refutation. We have ever been in possession of the exercise of this our constitutional right, of giving and granting our own money. We would have been slaves if we had not."
~Prime Minister William Pitt, 1766
Ever heard of that the rallying cry, “no taxation without representation?” It became famous in the eighteenth century, when America was getting collectively pissed off at the British for taxing them without representing them in Parliament. It’s a fair criticism of systems that seek to take the resources of citizens without giving them political rights, or other benefit, in exchange for them. This is known in a moderate form as communism and in an extreme form as slavery.
How is communism the same as slavery, you ask? It takes away resources by force and redistributes them. But one is done to rich people and one to poor people, you say? Well, principles are principles. Our society, like it or not, is based on the idea that we're allowed to have what we earned. Giving someone in power the right to take it away is either naughty or it isn't, regardless of whether you do it to people who have lots or nothing. I say it is. Heartily disagree with me? I respectfully direct you to either Ayn Rand's "The Virtue of Selfishness" or David Kelley's "Unrugged Individualism: The Selfish Basis of Benevolence." Still disagree? Too bad, it's my blog and I get to do whatever I want, so there.
So America dealt with this injustice by dumping tea in the Boston Harbour and then throwing an eight year tantrum known as the American Revolution. If you ask me, "no taxation without representation" is also a stellar way to look at modern relationships.
I’ve already explored the idea that relationships are heavily impacted by technological advancements, particularly the Internet. But technology only represents the bed of the river. Swirling above is social norms, our culture, our manners…the fluid and ever-moving elements that are generally quite content to be shaped by the bed but which still have the capacity, occasionally, to completely subvert them. Language is just one of these forces, but like the banks of a river, can cut a swath right through rock over time.
As a long-time observer of social customs, relationship quirks and gender wars, the one complaint I've heard more than any other is about the lack of definition in relationships. Relationships were, at one time, very clearly defined. You 1) dated, then 2) went steady, then 3) got engaged, then 4) got married and 5) had children. Moreover, there were very clear designations at each stage: a tongue down your throat meant you were dating; a pin or letterman jacket (or the absence of other tongues down your throat) meant you were going steady, a ring meant you were engaged, a new last name and having sex meant you were married, and squeezing small people out of your body generally meant children. No real confusion there. And, much like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, you didn’t advance to the next stage until you’d completed the one before. Do not stop, do not pass go. Clear definitions and clear demarcation meant that the rights and obligations of your respective stage were protected. Thus at each stage, you had representation.
For the brave souls out there on the singles scene today, the stages are not that clear and with the exception of that resilient survivor, the engagement ring (and if you think us women are ever giving that up, you’re crazy) there are few if any defining markers at any point. So if we can no longer define our relationships, can we really ever expect representation for them?
Modern dating simply does not serve the same purpose as it did in the days of poodle skirts and cars large enough to actually have sex in. Back then, it was a time to establish the other person’s social graces, assess income level and earnings potential, identify existing areas of irreconcilable differences, and try to postulate whether you could ever bear the idea of seeing them naked on a daily basis.
Nowadays, it remains a relatively good way to establish social graces and earning potential, but irreconcilable differences aren’t really all that important when the maximum obligation you’re likely going to have to each other may only be for the time it takes to order and eat a crispy salmon skin roll. And the mystery has largely been taken out of the whole 'marital relations' factor; dating is now more a chance to work a good meal into our busy work schedules and assess whether or not you’re attracted enough to the person to justify the sex you may or may not be having shortly after the crispy salmon skin roll.
Going steady? This one of all the stages is on the most shaky ground. No one really asks to "go steady" anymore, although "The Talk" is still a dreaded phenomenon among the commitment-phobic. But even having "The Talk" doesn't really clearly define a relationship. I remember once having a summit with a girlfriend of mine who had been dating someone for three months and who, somewhat by accident, found herself the recipient of The Talk.
"I think we should only see each other," he proposed.
She felt the same way, and since things were going marvelously, was ecstatic. However, she was completely confused when, immediately following the Dedication Proclamation, he followed up with, "But, I'm just not comfortable with the term girlfriend. I'm having lots of fun with you. Do we really need a label?"
Yes, we do. Because it's getting way too confusing.
It used to be that monogamy was the sole indicators of relationship status. Once that was established, it was all good to go on the girlfriend/boyfriend terminology. Certain obligations (sleepovers, bathroom storage, guaranteed date for weddings, appropriateness of suggesting fetish sex) were assumed. Now, it takes a complicated mathematical formula involving weighted averages to figure it out. I had one girlfriend who had been living with a man for a year, had met the parents, spent every weekend with him, had exchanged "I love yous," and had gone on several vacations with him...yet he resolutely insisted on introducing her as a 'friend.' I knew another woman who very much enjoyed the company and mutual orgasms of a great man for six years and yet never once considered accepting his proposal to "try and make it work," nor would she even spend the night. (His friends eventually suspected she was an invention, which was a constant source of indignance for him.)
We've all been in relationships that were intense, involved, intimate, and yet never defined. So are we paying into a system without receiving fair representation? And if so, should we be gathering up rebel leaders to commiserate and dumping tea into a harbour, instead of gathering up our friends to commiserate and dumping vodka down our throats?
Or if not, could it be that the freedom we enjoy makes up for what we lose?
Perhaps. Once, long ago, I remember being about six weeks in with a really lovely guy. We didn't have too much in common, but the conversation was good, he had great taste, and not to put too fine of a point on it, he had the face of an angel and the body of an underwear model. Furthermore, he was three years younger, than I, which lent an insouciant 'coo coo cachoo Mrs. Robinson' air to the whole affair. I figured especially given his age, that he wouldn't be in much of a hurry to define things.
Or so I thought. Sometime after the seared foie gras and just before the third glass of Cabernet Sauvignon he decided to spring The Talk.
Whether We Were On The Same Page. He Wasn't Looking For Casual Anymore. It Was Time To Think Seriously About Things. And then...the harbinger of relationship death: Where Was This Going.
It was as if everything had capital letters. I looked around in panic. Candles on the tables. Dinner had been his suggestion. He'd made reservations. We were on a courtyard. There was a bread basket. I had been planning dessert while he had been planning progeny. And, after only a split second pause to mentally try out the new last name (hey, we're girls) I felt the hated litany bubble up from my own lips.
"You know, I'm really having fun with you the way things are. I don't want to rush anything. I think you're a great person. Do we really need to define things?
Turns out, I did. A few weeks later the ick factor settled in and I realized that the Americas were right; sometimes revolution is preferable to an uneasy truce. I broke things off for good. I still kind of miss him, sometimes.
Oy. Maybe there's something to that virtual representation deal after all, Mr. Pitt.
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