From January 2009
I’m turning to an email I got from a woman last week. “Tara” wrote another in the series of queries from young women contemplating entering into a relationship with older men. The trick on this one is Tara (21) is interested in a 36 year-old married fellow, one who claims, as so many do, to be in a less than fulfilling marriage. Tara asked me a couple of other questions, but finished with this one:
…do you think that the decision to cheat lies within the hands of the involved person, or does it share a weight equally with the “other woman”? am i bound by ethics and decency to his wife, even if he is the one who makes that decision (as to whether a sexual or emotional affair happens.)
The simple answer is that cheating is cheating, and that anyone who knowingly enters into a relationship with someone who is pledged to another through marriage or another sort of monogamous arrangement gets a full and equal share of the blame. That’s perhaps the response of our age, though a history of adultery and its prohibitions reveals that that has not always been a universally held position. In different times and places, only the married cheater has been blamed, or only the woman. And some folks like to parse out differences between what is “adultery” and what is “infidelity”, even though most of us use the former to refer to the extra-marital subset of the latter. But while the history of Western law and religion makes clear that our sense of what kinds of extra-marital or pre-marital sex are wrong is a moving target, the modern received consensus is that having sex with someone who is pledged to another is bad.
For many of us, the real offense of infidelity (I use the term broadly, to encompass emotional as well as sexual affairs) lies in betrayal. The very word means to “break faith”. To be cheated on is painful enough, but to be lied to is, in a very real sense, worse. While most cheaters cover up their behavior through active lies or lies of omission, the real deceit lies in the betrayal of the original promise to be monogamous. Whether as part of a marriage ceremony or simply an informal agreement to “not see other people right now”, most (not all) relationships make their way towards some sort of mutual pledge of fidelity. To cheat is to break that pledge unilaterally. And once we’ve cheated, we’ve in a very real sense called into question every other aspect of the relationship; our pledges of fidelity aren’t just about what we promise not to do with our hearts and bodies, they are pledges about the effort we intend to put into this particular bond.
When I was going through the Twelve Steps with a strict sponsor many years ago, the subject of my many infidelities in my first marriage came up. I offered to Jack my “reasons” for cheating on my first wife. He snorted at all of them, and explained what I have come to see as the modern way of understanding the problem of infidelity. “Hugo, it doesn’t matter what your reasons were. You need to understand, when you cheat on your wife, you’re not just betraying her, or any God you happen to believe in. The greatest problem with cheating is that it turns you into a liar; on a soul level, every time you sleep with another woman behind your wife’s back, you know you’re breaking a promise you made. No one can break his own promise and be happy.” I was in a pedantic mood, and snapped back that that sounded less modern than Aristotlelian, to which Jack — who wouldn’t have known Aristotle from Adam –replied that it didn’t matter what it sounded like, it was simply true. And of course, Aristotle was right, and Jack was right. One of the great tragedies of infidelity lies not in what it does to others but what it teaches us about ourselves — that we are fundamentally untrustworthy. And it is hard to be happy while living with the dissonance between one’s language and one’s life.
Promises of fidelity can be ended without betrayal; a mutually agreed divorce or break-up serves notice to one’s partner and one’s community that a particular bond has reached the end of its usefulness. Though the Church may teach that sex after divorce is still adultery, that position misses the whole point of the offense. A negotiated end to a pledge is worlds away from a secretive betrayal. When both parties (or the courts) have agreed that a bond no longer binds, then that bond has lost its power. If one’s spouse or partner no longer has any reason to have faith in one’s commitment, then “infidelity” is impossible because there is nothing left to betray. Promises made are constitutive — they help create the reality of a relationship; promises mutually ended are also constitutive — they create a new reality in which each partner is free to seek new forms of happiness.
But what does this have to do with Tara’s question? If I were more of a communitarian sort, I would argue that Tara has a moral obligation to respect the pledge made between this older man who has captured her interest and his wife. I would argue that a healthy society functions best when we respect not only the agreements we ourselves have made, but we do our best to help those around us uphold their own contracts and promises. After all, in many wedding ceremonies, it is customary for the minister presiding to ask the congregation if they will collectively do all that they can to uphold and sustain the newlyweds in their marriage; this recognizes the importance of community in nurturing seeminly private relationships. I would challenge Tara to consider this notion that others’ bonds are our business, at least to the extent that we do wrong when we actively seek to undermine them.
But I think a more compelling argument can be made from a more individualistic perspective (albeit one consistent with Aristotle and Jack). If Tara cares about this married man, then she surely wants what is best for him. While she may not recognize any obligation on her part either to his wife or to the bond between them, she presumably feels some tug of loyalty to him as a person. If she has an affair with him, she becomes an instrument through which he breaks a pledge he made not only to his wife but in a very real sense, to himself. When he promised his wife fidelity, he made a statement about his own identity: “I am not a cheater and do not wish to cheat.” When Tara sleeps with this man, she participates with him in his own “self-betrayal”. Whether or not she feels obligated by a promise in which she didn’t participate is irrelevant — her bond of concern for her prospective lover ought to include a regard for his happiness. And whatever protestations he may make to the contrary, deep happiness is radically incongruent with oath-breaking. When she sleeps with him, in other words, she is helping him to become what he pledged not to be.
None of this should be read as lifting the burden of fidelity off of the shoulders of those who are actually married. If we cheat, it is our fault, and not the fault of those who may deliberately or unintentionally tempt us. In the end, as adults, we are sovereign over our choices, and men have the same capacity for self-control as women. But it is also reasonable to suggest that whatever our feelings about monogamy as an institution, we have a responsibility to those we love and care for to help them make choices that are congruent with their values — and their pledges. Tara may owe nothing to the woman to whom her older man is married, but she ought to let the affection she feels for him — and her desire for him not to betray himself — to act as an influence upon her.






Tara— Please stop what you’re doing…and it’s hard, I know,…but run for the exit door and don’t look back…Needless to say, BTDT, and I regret every minute of it now (and it’s 2 decades later)…I stayed in because I thought I was helping someone and you just sucked into an emotional vortex and disappear into Twilight Land where emotional vampires reign and suck the life out of you…
What I’ve learned: (1) You can’t help everybody “in need”….so say “I’m sorry and then wave good-bye (Don’t waste your precious youth on a bloodsucker!), (2) You have no idea how much destruction and havoc you wreak on the wife and the kids…they are innocent…and in my case, something so terrible happened (in short, don’t get involved….destabilize a family…NO MATTER WHAT HE SAYS! He is NOT “estranged”! That just means he is rooming in the attic room, not the master bedroom, but the wife and kids need the daily presence of that bugger, no matter how much he wants to have sex with you and not with his wife [He is a narcissist! If he really loved you he would let you go and have a real, full life with a single guy !!]…..(3) There is poetic justice: I was trying to break free of my relationship…and he just kept holding onto me…I planned a trip overseas ALONE and while getting my passport (I was driving on little backroads to the passport center), I crashed and totaled my car…I walked out of there basically intact (just a few glass bits in my eye, but OK)….I hadn’t paid attention to a certain stop sign…Someone is watching above…just don’t do it! LOVE YOURSELF! You don’t need a guy like that to love you…you need to focus just on you…. (4) Don’t hasten the death of a marriage or of a family…it’s so horrible! If you have to sneak around and hide a big part of your life from your friends, family, and co-workers, then you really have to take a good look in the mirror and just re-evaluate….Is your self-esteem really going to increase by damaging someone else’s family and life? Just don’t go there….Hugs!
Male weakness is not a myth.
Ellen, it may not be a myth, but where it manifests, it is a defect of will not of biology. We have a power to choose that testosterone and Y chromosomes cannot trump. If we claim otherwise, we’re ignoring our own culpability.
To me it doesn’t matter whether it’s a defect of will or of biology or whether a filly wins the Triple Crown. It won’t change. I know *you* can change/have changed/continue to change (Team Hugo!), but you’re a bright spot in a sea of darkness. I see more people trying to shout you down than emulate you.
I want to be wrong, but I’m still waiting for my comeuppance. If I ever get it, and I hope I do, I will never be happier.
What makes me angry about the situation described in the article isn’t the threat of infidelity in and of itself or the age difference but the fact that Tara is only 21. Nothing ages a young person more than becoming cynical about love. Young people — actually, all people, but especially the young — should believe in true love, in commitment, in finding a life partner, in finding someone that they can feel, in your words, “loved and safe” with. An affair or the offer of an affair shatters that ideal. It tells the young person “you’re interchangeable.” If the married person is significantly older and the spouse is an age peer it carries the additional message of “don’t get old.” Whether Tara goes through with the affair is irrelevant. The damage has already been done.
Well, if she has the affair, she will probably be even more hurt and disillusioned.
Oh look, he’s finally responding to reader comments.
While there are various ethical positions to take here, one I would like to add is that in a weird way, Tara does have a responsibility to the wife. Assuming the wife is also 36 or a similar age, if Tara values sisterhood and/or the brand of feminism that asks women to unite against male behaviour they object to, then she should align herself with the wife to make her decision. As a 21-year-old, Tara has the power of representing youth and hope to this middle-aged man. I’ll wager that this, along with her physical appearance, is a major part of her appeal. Tara should try and project fifteen years to when she is 36 and her husband is looking around for his lost youth and some firm breasts, and simply say ‘No. I’m not going to be your fantasy object. Go back to your wife and sort it out’. This does the greatest good not only for the man and the wife, but ultimately for Tara as well.
Well, I don’t think it’s about “sisterhood” so much as just doing the right thing. Tara is an adult, and I think 21 is old enough to shoulder some level of responsibility here. Not that it’s equal- she’s not married- but should she enter into an affair with this man, she wouldn’t just be enabling him- she’d be complicit as well.
I think the subject of this post sums up the issue pretty well. I’ll throw out a somewhat different situation that has been on my mind recently – what about someone who becomes involved with a person who is a in a non-monogamous relationship (i.e. an open marriage) while having doubts about the ethics or practicality of such arrangements? It doesn’t involve the breaking of promises, but is it really a choice for one’s own good, even if only the good of one’s conscience?
I’d say it depends on how high a standard of morality you want to hold yourself to. No one could condemn you for taking part in an open relationship since the parties have agree that it’s okay. However, if you believe that it would hurt them even though they say it won’t, you might feel an ethical obligation to say no. Sort of like not sleeping with a friend who says they wouldn’t be hurt the next day when you left, but you know they really would be and you don’t want to hurt them.
I think the other question, of course, is are you uncomfortable with it yourself? You might feel like you would be used. Or you just might feel guilty and not want to put yourself through that. On those grounds alone, I would say don’t do it if you’ll feel uncomfortable afterwards. I mean, you’re not going to get a relationship out of it, right? There’s really nothing in it for you.
This post is very timely for me. I met someone recently who was utterly dazzling but ‘forgot’ to mention he was coupled. I tried with all my might to figure out if I was just mad because I wouldn’t have a chance to be with him beyond a few hours or if I was rightfully angry because he forced me, without my consent, to be complicit in his deception to another human being (his long-term partner).
My position is validated by your post, Hugo– if you make a pledge of fidelity and later want to change and/or break that promise, you MUST tell, however difficult that conversation will be.
“Promises of fidelity can be ended without betrayal; a mutually agreed divorce or break-up serves notice to one’s partner and one’s community that a particular bond has reached the end of its usefulness… A negotiated end to a pledge is worlds away from a secretive betrayal.”
There is a difference between the pain of a relationship shifting and outright betrayal, I too believe, and it’s unfortunate more adults are unwilling to know the difference and do the work to honor the people that have shared their lives intimately. I would much rather someone honestly and kindly tell me their truth than lie to me and betray my body and my soul and their own.
Of course, there is the poly world where couples agree that it is acceptable to be sexual with others within agreed to parameters but it is critical to remember that for adults to consent there has to have full disclosure between ALL the parties involved. If you don’t have full disclosure, you don’t have consent because someone/s doesn’t know what they are consenting to.
I argue that however difficult a conversation will be and regardless of the consequences, an ethical human being offers full disclosure to any and all sexual partners otherwise they are stealing. Thank you for this piece, Hugo.
Be mad, but also be glad you’re not going to be with him more than a few hours! All that glitters is not gold.
Indeed. LOL.
You’re right, but I would add that the harm of infidelity isn’t just in breaking the promises. Sleeping with someone else’s lover hurts them. We shouldn’t run around hurting people. Loving your neighbor as yourself, compassion – it’s against most religions.
I think the guilt of the cheater and the outsider are different. It isn’t important to figure out who is more to blame or if the guilt is equal. It’s important to take responsibility for yourself and your actions. So, yes, Tara, if you do this, you will be doing something horribly wrong. You will be hurting another human being in a way that is completely unfair. You will be participating in a lie and a betrayal. You will be damaging a marriage and a family in ways that you are probably too young to understand. (I know that sounds terrible and she will never listen to it, but honestly, you have to be married a while to understand that marriages an be in trouble and get better and that wanting to cheat is normal and not proof that the marriage is dead.)
Also, there’s just the whole – don’t believe a guy who is lying to his wife, the woman he publicly promised to love and treat well. People misrepresent their relationships and may even believe it themselves. At best you’ll end up unhappy, at worst you’ll contribute to the break-up of a family.
Just wanted to add, I think it was ancient Greece, but maybe Rome, the person blamed in adultery was the outside man. In other words, the guy who slept with a married woman was the worst criminal.