Polyamory's Superiority Complex
When polyamorists are the butt of a joke, the premise is often that polyamorists believe themselves to be superior to the dull-eyed, monogamous masses, and as much as we may hate to admit it, there’s a grain of truth to this. There seems to be more serious interest in polyamory now than at any other time in the last thirteen years I’ve been practicing it, but before everyone dives into the deep end, I feel obligated to provide a fair warning.
Many people who practice polyamory speak of it in exalted terms, implying or claiming outright that polyamory is politically and morally superior to monogamy. They see monogamy as unnatural, a practice dictated by societal overlords that is at odds with natural human sexuality. Some even see monogamous people as emotionally or socially weaker, because they believe everyone would be polyamorous if it weren’t for their various fears and inhibitions. There are polyamorists who believe they represent the next evolutionary step toward sexual liberation. It’s probably obvious by now that I am not one of them.
It shouldn’t be surprising that polyamorists conceive of their choices in political and moral terms, since the modern iteration of their practices can be traced back to utopian communities of the 1800s, such as Brook Farm in Massachusetts, the Oneida community in New York State, and the Nashoba community in Tennessee. Although each commune had its own unique mission, a common thread was the notion that free love was a crucial part of changing the world for the better.
Many utopian communes founded in the 19th century were influenced by transcendentalism, a philosophical, spiritual and literary movement that believed in the importance of personal freedom, the power of insight rather than logic, and the ability to have spiritual experiences in daily life. Such beliefs would later influence New Thought, which would in turn influence the New Age and its kaleidoscopic, do-it-yourself, buffet-style approach to spirituality.
Echos of the transcendentalists can be heard when polyamorists claim their right to practice so long as everyone involved is a consenting adult, when they emphasize the importance of not suppressing natural desire, and when they understand their lifestyle to be reflective of the better world they want to build.
It’s not altogether surprising, then, that some proponents seem to be touting polyamory as a relational cure-all. Imagine if you didn’t have to choose between a life partner and sexual exploration. Imagine if you could transcend insecurity and jealousy. Imagine if you could always say yes to your desires. It sounds pretty tempting, doesn’t it? It almost sounds like a way to opt out of heartbreak.
In the same way that the most thorough consent checklist in the world can’t guarantee a good sexual experience—unless you have a checklist kink, it may even lower the likelihood—the most thoughtful polyamorist cannot communicate their way out of hurting people’s feelings, failing to meet their partners’ expectations, or making difficult choices. Polyamory is romanticised as a get-out-of-love-jail-free card, and I hate to break it to you, but it’s not.
Now, obviously I believe polyamory works for some of us, or I would’ve stopped a long time ago. Polyamory has enriched my life in a number of ways, and I have seen it do the same for friends. Many LGBT people have strained relationships with their families (especially people my age and older), and polyamory is one of the ways that we build our own families and networks of support.
Most people, however, prefer monogamy—in a 2021 research study, only one in nine people had been in a polyamorous relationship, and only one in six people wanted to try one. I have very rarely seen a couple successfully make the transition from monogamous to polyamorous. Why? Polyamory must be chosen by everyone involved. If someone feels pressured into opening up their marriage, resentment will eat away at the foundation of the relationship. It really only works if both people develop a sincere desire to date other people.
Polyamory cannot save a failing relationship, nor can it eliminate the possibility of cheating (which in a polyamorous context refers to violating a mutual agreement that has been made). If a person in a monogamous relationship feels the need to be polyamorous, chances are they will have to break up with their current partner, because most people who are in monogamous relationships want to continue to be.
Polyamory is a lot of work. It entails a lot of negotiation, communication and scheduling. It requires agreements but also the flexibility to revise those agreements. There is sacrifice and compromise involved—there are painful choices to be made. For some of us, it remains the right choice, a practice that aligns with the lives we want to live. I have no regrets as a polyamorist, although as a fallible human being, I have a number. This essay was not written to convince anyone into or out of polyamory; on the contrary, it’s impossible to convince someone to be polyamorous. The practice is only ever successful when everyone involved has actively chosen it, and keeps choosing it, over and over again.
There is no way to avoid the fact that joy and pain are intertwined in human relationships, no matter how badly we may want to. Moralising desire can only ever provide the illusion of control. All we can do is be honest about what we want, and do our best to live up to our commitments in ever-changing lives as we hurtle toward a future none of us can foresee.
Thank you for your reflections!
I find it difficult to talk about my experiences with poly (all of which have been very negative- teaching me most of all about what I do NOT want in relationships) because many people tend to be either monogamy purists, or poly supremacists who seem to have drunk the Kool Aid. I don't want to be either of those, which makes me grateful that your essay has struck a middle ground. I have no categorical problem with poly relationships and want people to have full agency to choose them if that's what they want, but also don't appreciate the ways in which poly has become a virtue signal for being 'down with the cause' and is used to justify shitty behaviors (just as monogamy certainly can be weaponized in that way too). I feel bad sometimes because I know in wider society polyamory is a marginalized thing, and I don't want to feed into that bias, but in a lot of my social circles, I am immediately surrounded by a lot of people who fall into poly supremacy thinking and, even if they wouldn't admit it out loud, think people who choose monogamy (or even people who are in poly relationships and struggling) need deconditioning. I feel really frustrated.
Last year my partner of a long term monogamous relationship suddenly asked to date another person, and although I initially agreed, more out of fear of losing the relationship than anything else, it quickly devolved into a situation where I was not ok with being in a non-monogamous relationship, I asked for the other relationship to end, and then my partner chose to leave me to be with the other person. I experienced a lot of dishonesty, intentional distortion and denial of reality, my partner trying to "diagnose" me with issues they had read about in poly books, and many more behaviors that have left me with immense pain and heartbreak that I won't get into here. My experiences are personal anecdotes on one level, but I worry that the current poly trend is another example of people adopting dogma and jargon in place of getting to the root causes of why relationships actually may be hard or fail.
I am kind of dreading getting back into the dating world because so many queer people are doing poly and I don't want to do it. But I do think it's a gift to be clear on what you are and are not willing to do in relationships, even if it limits the pool.
There's so much more I could say, but just wanted to respond with something to your piece and especially express some appreciation for your nuance and humility. I have been following you for the past year or so and although this is my first time chiming in, please know that I value the content you are putting out there and, most of all, the ways you are publicly engaging with ideas.
I have heard similar defenses of poly from the part of my social group that’s queer. “it’s not for everyone” ... And yet it seems like everyone in that identity group is doing it. A friend of mine who lives in a different city has said that most of the profiles she finds on apps are only interested in poly relationships. Seems very difficult out there to be young(ish) and monogamous.
You’ve done so much critical introspection on ways in which the progressive / radical culture impacted your life, I’m curious if this is a particular area that continued to stand up after that critical introspection, or, do you feel that being polyamorous is distinct from other areas of your past that you’ve decided to shed?
I hope this question makes sense, I’m a new reader and really don’t know your background very well so forgive any incorrect assumptions I might be making!