Tag: monogamy

Better food, worse sex?

I have just completed Jared Diamond’s at times fascinating account of how the economic geography of today’s world came into play. Predictably, the major culprit (or hero if you will)  is the same agricultural revolution which Ryan and Jethá in Sex at Dawn blame for the human race’s unnatural fate of sexless monogamy, in turn both blamed by Reich for giving rise to endemic neurosis and feted by Freud as a precondition of civilization. This inevitably raises the question of whether it is actually possible for the human race to buck this secular trend and live a natural existence of any sort under by now fundamentally transformed social conditions.

Mystics often float the idea that our species is engaged in a spiritual evolution. It is quite hard for me to buy into this notion. Evolution in any case is not a one-way street: organisms also get simpler to adapt to their environment, not only more complicated. Indeed, both Diamond and Ryan document instances of this happening in our own species. We tend to assume we in the West are smarter than hunter-gatherers, but it turns out that the opposite applies. Intelligence is much more predictive of the chances of passing on ones genes in primitive societies than it is in post-industrial ones, and in keeping with this, the average native of Papua New Guinea is more intelligent than the average Englishman. He also has a larger penis and significantly higher sperm count.

It seems to me that we basically live in a state of alienation which we have some idea now how we got into, but no idea how to get out of. Not only is the Enlightenment myth of constant progress dead, but we perhaps have to get used to the idea that we have regressed instead. And even if we do believe that human societies are getting fairer, less violent and generally less neurotic, then clearly there has at least been a period, presumably until fairly recently, when the contrary was the case. Moreover, Freud’s Faustian bargain might even have been acceptable if it was only about sex. But if the cost of adapting to modern civilization is in fact a large loss of enjoyment in life and atrophy of both body and spirit, then might we not really be better off abandoning much of what we have built and starting over?

I do not have an answer to this question other than to observe it is not an obvious or even well-defined option. The myth of the Golden Age is omnipresent in our collective memory and wildly opposing views on the quality of prehistoric life pitted philosophers in the iconoclastic, naturalist tradition of Rousseau and later Nietzsche against the likes of Burke, Hobbes and Voltaire. The so called “paleolithic diet” is a controversial attempt to restore an analogous nutritional environment to the one that existed in hunter-gatherer times, and the barefoot movement shares similar aims. But primitivism, it seems, whilst it can be a source of inspiration in trying to uncover some of the ways in which modern life does not serve our health and happiness, can hardly be an agenda.

With the kisses of his mouth

I just finished reading Monique Roffey’s “With the Kisses of his Mouth”, an astonishingly forthright – if frustratingly incomplete – account of the author’s exploration of her sexuality following her breakup from her former husband, through casual sex dating, swinging, tantra and new age practices.

The book is so personal that I have hesitated in how to review it. It feels like I have become a party to confidences which normally stay safely confined in workshop spaces, as if a private diary had been left on a train and discovered by me inadvertently. In short, it seems indecent to respond publicly, and even more so in a critical, if I hope sympathetic tone. On the other hand, the decision to publish so uncensored an account belongs to the author, and puts her views on record. By virtue of this it makes a leap from subjectivity to intersubjectivity, occupying a shared space which is also mine. I also get a sense that part of the author’s purpose is to invite readers to react. So here goes with my thoughts.

There are already several reviews out there. Julie Myerson’s in The Guardian is excellent and I largely share it. The book has an engaging character despite its literary flaws, and this is essentially because, at all times, one senses the author is being breathtakingly honest – to the point, indeed, of a degree of dullness at times. Literary critique should however be carefully distinguished from the slutshaming disguised as esthetics that has evidently motivated a number of her reviewers, and which I feel no obligation to reproduce.

As I have some familiarity with the settings portrayed in the book as well as with the quest that underlies it – and care about it also – my own review is from a different angle.

There is no denying this is a courageous book. It captures a lot of the flavor of tantra in the UK, and also of the other places the author visits and discusses, insofar as I am familiar with them – Cap d’Agde for instance. I am glad she is proud of her sexual quest and willing to say so. This is a major contribution to creating a sex-positive climate for her peers, from which we can all only benefit. However, I do find the book, as an account of a quest which is ultimately and obviously spiritual – as the title of the book, taken from the Biblical Song of Songs implies – painfully self-absorbed.

Moved by the author’s predicament, one reads on hoping at some point she will transcend the limitations of her own tragic discourse on love and achieve a new triumphant synthesis; and yet ultimately this is not so. This gives the book a feeling of incompleteness and anticlimax which I found frustrating. The attempt at a synthesis at the end feels little like one, and more, in fact, like a distraction from the themes discussed throughout the book.

Viewed from Europe, with most of my experiences in Osho-related and German milieu, which stress humanistic psychology and meditation rather than sex and esotericism (much less BDSM), the UK tantra scene the author describes – accurately I believe – looks erratic, veering off into new age meanders the purpose of which can only be to escape the path inward. Roffey’s book is absorbed with the question of who she is: but not yet really as a spiritual enquiry; it comes across still primarily as an attempt to salvage the ego. The author’s journey – perhaps also her decision to publish the book – appears as a quest for an intellectual and/or relational refuge which would finally allow her to affirm that how she is, is actually OK. This quest, by its very existence, however, is evidence she is still consumed by doubts on this score. Her inner dialectic between salvation and self-doubt is markedly narcissistic and ultimately, I found, also became for this reason tedious in the retelling (scarcely a word attempts to establish a bridge between writer and reader; all this is left to intuition). Yet there seems to be little or no awareness of this indelicate degree of self-centeredness. It would have been the job of her spiritual teachers to point this out; I am a little disappointed if they have not. (Astonishingly, Osho is dismissed in the book as “much vilified”; in my view there is no more profound and practical teacher, and it sounds like Roffey knows him only at second hand).

The dilettantism of the author’s quest is illustrated especially by her discussion, in the closing pages, of Quodoushka and her valedictory declaration that she has discovered herself to be “monogamous”.

Now Quodoushka, apart from being hilariously funny (and hard to spell), has little else going for it. It is a patent and unimaginative fraud, as the link to the Wikipedia article makes amply evident, best known for (and in Roffey’s account largely limited to) a somewhat bizarre character typology based on genital types. In contrast, however, to the Reichian analysis of character, or the one offered by the enneagram (discussed by me here and here) – the purpose of which is to uncover and deconstruct patterns of childhood conditioning and to return to essence – the Quodoushka typology relies on allegedly objective anatomical features to categorize people into categories which they then can hide behind, but never change.

Conceivably there might be elements of truth in this typology, though I highly doubt this given how ridiculous it is. But in any case the spiritual point of this – other than the convenience of escapism – eludes me. Ultimately we are one; it cannot be that acquired character traits have in fact some indelible nature. And more particularly, it cannot be that some of us are “monogamous” and others not, or suffice for our salvation that we accept such a conclusion and move on. It can only be, as I have argued time and again on this blog, that those who stress monogamy have sensed certain truths but missed others, and those who stress polyamory may have lofty ideals but still often fail to engage with the challenge of unconditional love for actual real people because it is too painful a mirror of themselves.

One may, perhaps, accept that one is conditioned in a certain way and likely to remain so conditioned; but then ones spiritual quest is at an end. And this is not the kind of end to which, in my eyes, such a book should point.

I in no way want to denigrate what the author means by identifying as “monogamous”, but her adoption of this label seems to preclude further enquiry and, against the backdrop of a hoped-for epiphany, is wildly disappointing.

Roffey uses the term “monogamous” as if she knows what it is. But she, and we, do not know what it is, at all. We have no idea, or rather a wealth of conflicting ideas. “Monogamy”, as uncountable studies show, is an essentially contested concept. The behavior she recounts in the book moreover – with, if I am not wrong, some pride and satisfaction – is hardly “monogamous” in any identifiable sense, past or present. She seems simply to conclude that it lacks something and remains unsatisfying – and thereby prepares the bed for her inane critics and the chorus of self-justifying I-told-you-so’s.

This “something missing” she leaves, in line with the dominant social mythology, to serendipity, to the future, to a force outside of herself. The hackneyed, and overbearingly dehumanizing, “knight in shining armor” projection which so disappoints in every encounter man has with woman: that moment of realization that it will never be you that is object of love, but only ever a distorted representation of you.

It must be obvious, and it is obvious to all true spiritual teachers, that this claimed contingency of self-realization is only ever a sign of resistance to self-knowledge. What Roffey seeks is what we all seek, and few of us, whatever our relationship status or history, ever actually find, namely the ability to utterly abandon ourselves and to dance in love among the stars. But, to this end, members of the opposite sex, and relationships, are merely vehicles. The turgid institution we call monogamy is antithetical to the desire for transcendence in most cases, and tangential to it at best. Marriage simply is not the logical consequence of the numinous rapture we call “falling in love” which it purports to be. In self-identifying as “monogamous”, Roffey makes an ersatz projection which at the same time precludes what she is looking for – unimpaired and ecstatic love.

My advice to the reader is to reach beyond this well-disguised counsel of despair. Love where love is – as Roffey has been doing in practice – and become aware and compassionate towards the feelings of incompleteness which result, because they are a guide. Monogamy is not a precondition of plenitude. Pace Aristophanes and his drunken nonsense, there is nothing out there for you to find in order to become complete, but only things inside of you, negative self-judgments, to drop. Sex has no importance at all, it is just a celebration of what is. It only becomes important because it is so problematic: the barriers we put in place to our sexual expression tell us almost everything about our conditioned selves and our inability to love. The monogamy fixation, by abandoning the moment and subordinating it to expectations and unmet needs, voids sexual experience of its essence, voids it in fact of what we sense is there and some of us imagine to imply monogamous pre-eminence. Monogamy clutches at stars, for fear they will elude us. But they will not elude us; it suffices to open our heart and they are always there.

Life may certainly be lived in such a way as to be marked by deep union with just one soul. There is no reason why not. However, there is equally no need to choose this or to accord it preference, and still less normative status, blindly unaware of the mixture of motivations that contribute to the moment of rapture and the meaning given to it. By projecting on a man the burden of impossible roles to play, a woman can only estrange herself – and her partner – from self-realization and numinosity.

Cacocracy

First read this.

Now aside from being brilliant and game-changing relationship advice (it won’t catch on though, mark my words – no one wants to hear the truth that their problems are of their own making, not someone else’s), I want to point out the following.

I am pretty damn sure that almost everyone reading this article, whether they are men or women, and almost regardless even of how strongly they agree with the advice given, in their gut sympathizes with the woman. In fact, I doubt very many people at all – even if, like me, they cried reading this on the train this morning, the delicious yet bittersweet tears of a human being feeling accepted and understood – I doubt that they pause really to think, to dwell on and meditate, the pain of the man.

Vaste swathes of the feminist movement, and of femininity generally, is deeply, indelibly in love with their victim complex. But it is not only women, it is the whole of our culture which is virulently hostile to the emotional, affective and sexual expression of (biological) masculinity and which carries around self-fulfilling stereotypes of “evil, predatory” males and “good, victim” females. And it is very, very hard to resist; to confront it as a man will gain you little recognition as it goes to the core of female neuroses which very few people wish to recognize, and the reaction is likely to be shutting you out of access to even that paltry emotional world of sexual and affective congress that you are allowed to aspire to inhabit. It is, in other words, not incentive-compatible to tell the truth.

We are wedded to the idea that we live in a patriarchy. Some cultural heroes contrast this to an imagined, prehistoric lost golden age of matriarchy. Yet it is a very deep truth, I believe, that both of these terms are meaningless. Male and female can exist in the universe only in equal measure. There can be small amounts of each or large amounts of each, but there cannot be different amounts of each. When neither can flow freely, each will flow in a distorted manner, and these distorsions will be different, but certainly not in any moral sense (there is, after all, no moral sense). And this is what we see – qualitative difference in the expression of the emotional pathology. But not quantitative difference.

I certainly feel compassion for the woman in this story, even if it is hard to feel compassion for someone who is insisting that I make a lie out of my life in order not too much to disrupt her excruciating insecurities. But I also see clearly that making that lie is not simply a least-resistance convenience, without costs. No. It is just as excruciating.

We live in a world where power-over is differently exercised by men and women, in different domains and different ways, but one is not triumphant and the other subordinate. They are simply at war and fight using the tools at hand. Neither can ever win, but they certainly can destroy each other. And this is a reign, not of men over women or of women over men, but of sickness over health or, if you like those terms, of evil over good. A cacocracy.

As the author says (and I hope you read it, but it bears repeating):

There are a few good things in the world. Love is one of them. Love is a gem. Love is one of those rare things in the world that is pretty much good all around. It arises free of cost and does no harm in the feeling of it; it only elevates and brings joy.

I know it also threatens. But for a moment let us please look not at how it threatens but at how it brings spontaneous pleasure. For a moment, why not ask how this gift of human consciousness might serve as the true starting point for relationships? Why not take a risk and see if we can operate on the principle of universal love? What might that show us?

What if it were possible for this man to have an infinite amount of love? What if his love does, in fact, grow the more it is exhausted, the way a muscle grows the more it is exhausted? And what if it shrinks when held immobile, the way a muscle shrinks when held immobile?

And what if your arrangements about sex were a separate matter? What if you were to grant him the freedom to feel what he feels and express it to you as best he can, including the understanding that he tell the complete truth to you, including the truth of whether he has been having sex with this woman, or kissing this woman, or touching her at all? What if you were to abandon all thought of controlling what is to happen next and abandon yourself to the truth, to seek the truth like a thirsty traveler, to lap it up with no thought of what to do with it?

What if we were to use our short time on earth to learn as much as we can about each other by telling each other the truth and listening to the truth? What if truth is painful only because stripping away illusion is painful? What if relationships are a set of dance moves learned in elementary school? What if we have it mostly backward? What if it turns out that what we consider the most healthy relationship is the one that cleaves most fearfully to its model of illusion? What if a “troubled relationship” is merely one that has begun to admit a little truth into its choreography of fairy tales? What if “trouble” is the beginning of “health”?

Exactly. What if trouble is the beginning of health?

One last point. In some comments on this article on Facebook, certain people were tempted to agree with the author on substance, but accused him of adding unnecessary “spiritual mumbo-jumbo” to his case.

The problem with this is that some people are just convinced that human beings are a wretched, mean creature, always selfish, never to be trusted. They hold this view of me, and, presumably, also of themselves (at least I hope they are at least consistent to this very minimal degree). These people will never be persuaded otherwise. There is no hope whatsoever that they will get what the author is talking about unless they can open their eyes to the glory of what surrounds them, figure out that this glory is also inside of them, and finally understand that it is inside of everyone. Yet one can only point it out, and hope. This is what the author does, and I hope I am adding my voice to his.

Our tribal nature

Since Sex at Dawn, it is finally beyond doubt that humankind is not a monogamous creature. Nonetheless, there are lot of details still to be filled in as regards the exact role of sexuality in the social organization of our species, both past and present. In this regard, we are only possessed at present of a few, tantalizing clues. However, both brief introspection and sheer logic suffice to conclude that sexual behavior in our species does not serve simply or primarily as some kind of casual, diffuse and undifferentiated social glue. Such an extreme view appears to be a gross simplification even for bonobos.

What I have observed, purely from self-study and from listening to others who have similarly tried to understand themselves, is that there remains a fundamental difference between men and women as regards their emotional response to situations in which their sexuality comes to contemporary expression, at least when it is expressed within a holistic response to another individual where attraction is felt on a number of levels. This difference appears to me to be irreducible to purely cultural and contingent factors, and to play a plausible role in primitive societies as well.

Sticking to bonobos, and we should be careful in extrapolating too naively to our own species, we know that they live in philopatric groups. This means that the male composition of groups is constant over time, whilst females migrate into groups other than that in which they were born. Whilst homosexual behavior takes place in both sexes, it appears to play more of a bonding role amongst females, whereas amongst males its role is more as an outlet for sexual tension and to reinforce mating hierarchies: males exhibit markedly less intra-sex solidarity than females.

Now I have not read anything about this, applying either to bonobos or our own species, but the question obviously arises of the factors which come into play in inciting a female to join another group. There is clearly a push factor – the desire to avoid incestuous pregnancy – but it is still necessary to choose the new host group. It is hard to believe that this choice is entirely left to chance.

Looking at our own species – methodological rigor is not claimed – and trying to think a little bit how this would have worked in primitive tribal societies (though contemporary evidence should also be available), I have remarked and postulate that men, when they feel a high degree of attraction to a new female (“fall in love”), seek to bring her into the tribe. “Falling in love” does not cause men to wish to abandon their existing family and other social ties, though it may be so strong on occasion and encounter such opposing forces that this less-preferred option nevertheless comes out on top. Essentially, male sexuality is inclusive. Males also have a strong wish for new females to bond with existing females and will make efforts in this sense, however fruitlessly and apparently, perhaps, naively. Bonding with existing females will be a factor in the ultimate inclusion or otherwise of a new female in the group. Translated into contemporary society, the bottom line is that men do not want to leave their wives (never mind their children), but at the same time do wish to offer protection and security to new sexual partners as well.

On the female side, other forces are at work. A woman who feels a deep attraction to a new man is likely to feel a desire to be with him, and to consider abandoning her existing social roles in order to realize that goal. The frustration of this desire can result in dramatic behavior,  à la Madame Bovary. It is nonetheless held in check by certain factors, principal amongst which are children and female friends. To leave her existing mate is less inconceivable for a woman than for a man and sentimental ties are less important relative to the force of her new passion.

In bonobos, for a female to leave a group would mean to leave her immature children behind. The males will never rejoin her, and the females, once they enter into adulthood, are unlikely to. I do not know if females ever produce children in more than one group but am guessing it is most uncommon. It’s likely that a female who has become a mother remains henceforth with the group in which that event has occurred. Romantic attachments to extra-group males, whilst they might still happen, would not achieve the critical momentum necessary to sever existing ties. Female sexuality eventually settles into a more nurturing and more inclusive form, but the initial choice of group is made on the basis of a single male considered as a desirable mate – not on the basis of an assessment of the group as a whole.

This postulate shows us how what we now consider as “monogamous” sexual attraction may have existed and played a role in the social processes leading to the formation of primitive tribal groups, in particular to resolve the problem of choice of group faced by the newly adult female. In this perspective, it is not something anomalous grafted onto a fundamentally polygamous nature. When, however, it encounters contemporary social structures, it misfires for several reasons.

Our existing “tribes” are tiny nuclear families or, at best, kinship groups. Woman have been given legal rights (without my taking any view on these rights) which make it likely that separation from children will not be a cost of divorce. Under these circumstances, leaving the “tribe” is much easier. This creates a risk of breakdown in the tribe which a man’s efforts to strengthen the tribe by bringing in new females and new children may only hasten. The same drives which developed, in other words, to generate stable social structures under the constraint of maintaining genetic diversity, now generate unstable social structures in which childcare inevitably suffers.

This picture is not, perhaps, as hopeless as it sounds. In primitive times also, many factors would have frustrated the wishes of many individuals, and yet these factors would not have led to massive neurosis and social breakdown. We are far more robust to disappointment than we perhaps realize.

That certain desired outcomes cannot be realized is not in itself the problem. The dramatically dysfunctional outcomes that we see all around us are rather due to the fact that we cannot even own the truth of our nature and respect that of the other. Under these circumstances, it is not only particular wishes that cannot be accommodated, but the whole prospect that such wishes will be accommodated, ever and to any degree. This systemic, existential frustration generates ill-feeling and potentially violence and abuse which goes on to undermine our tiny tribes from inside, making their undermining from outside ever more probable.

As ever, a wise and adaptive response can only come through awareness and empathy.

Jealousy

Today I took my little boy to the childminding service at the school which is organized before classes start.

By way of background, I am probably the most obsessed person in the known universe on the subject of the attitudes of adults towards my children (and in fact all children). I am infinitely sensitive to the frequent occasions when those adults project their own neuroses and unresolved emotions onto the kids. When I see or feel it, there is no room for compromise. I am also in love with my little boy. I rely on him for most of the spiritual enlightenment I am ever likely to obtain. He is amazingly charming, almost always happy and playful and he has a really tender side also. He’s three (nearly).

Despite being impossible to please, I am pretty happy with the school. It’s not perfect of course, but it could be a lot worse. We feel comfortable sending him there.

The lady in charge of the childminding service seems to love him particularly. Whenever he arrives, he is greeted with open arms and a warm heart. As I love him and care for his wellbeing, what more could I want?

So, where I stand on this is pretty clear.

To my surprise, though, this morning, how I feel about it apparently is not. Continue reading “Jealousy”

What women want

If I dare this most unassailable of subjects – which famously stumped even Freud – it is because I believe that the end of the war of the sexes is finally within our grasp. Thanks, in particular, to Sex at Dawn, we can now attempt a more fundamental answer, more purged of cultural contingencies, than the kind of trite, half-true compilations available in pop psychology.

According to the “standard discourse”, women would have such a daunting list of requirements from a mate that no human male could ever hope to be adequate. Apparently, plenty of men are busy studying and elaborating on this list in order to achieve their goal – sex without commitment – notwithstanding that this goal is intrinsically incompatible with it anyway. Here is a good example. Apart from this being a depressing exercise, it’s also self-defeating: according to that same standard discourse, presumably the last thing a women would want is a man who spends half his time trying to decipher her desires, especially if it’s all a trick anyway. That just ain’t manly. Whoops.

I don’t think this account, at some level, while a caricature, is descriptively wrong. It does, however, show a not very deep understanding, as well as being unhelpful, as it basically would require a man to be several incompatible things simultaneously, and all of them artificial, not flowing from his true and spontaneous nature. In contrast therefore to the Venus/Mars theory, I would like to list a few of my ideas on what women really want, or would want, if only the world were organized in such a way as to let them have it. These are my intuitions towards a general theory:

1. Women want to be recognized for their capacity to lead a man to love and ecstasy. Women are gatekeepers of ecstasy and spiritual beings deeply bound with the earth. They significantly facilitate the binding of men to the earth.

2. Women want to experience deep sexual pleasure. For this, they require safety, trust and reverence. These, however, are merely preconditions in order to enter the space of sexual pleasure. Any woman who is satisfied that these preconditions are met will abandon herself to pleasure at the hands of any man.

3. Women want to be a vehicle of collective well-being. They want to bring healing and peace into the world, and are disturbed by intermale and intergenerational tensions. Women very much value strong relationships between men and express their sexuality to this end, rewarding group-oriented behavior with intimate and sexual connection.

4. Women want to live in a social framework which makes them feel physically and emotionally secure and offers them scope for self-realization. Commitment is intensely sought after. Because in a monogamous situation there is or may be no fallback secure situation for a woman, the monogamous commitment is made to bear an enormous burden, and many methods have been developed to hold onto it, methods which, in practice and inevitably, run into conflict with male sexual instincts.

It is interesting how many aspects of contemporary sexual economics reflect the striving after these goals under the conditions of modern life. In this perspective, marriage, monogamy, religious rites and prescriptions, romantic notions of love and chivalry and other female-endorsed epiphenomena of pair-bonding, all have a deep sense. It is a sense, certainly, so far removed from its original expression that it is scarcely recognizable – but it is not an alien imposition. I view these institutions, critical as I am of them, as attempts to hold onto the deep, feminine truths of sexual experience in a world which has long been hostile to the sacredness of the female. The institutions we observe are simply a projection of what is general about female desire into a specific, contingent (and conservative) socioeconomic context. For men and women truly to connect, men cannot just dismiss and discard these social forms, seen by women as embodying a basic sexual instinct: they must reformulate them at a higher level of synthesis based on real insight into what it is that truly and eternally underpins them, versus what is contingent and based on fear.

Achieving relationships based on such a higher synthesis is important because it is only by rolling back the layers of cultural accretion that we can come to a place where we can realize this: that men and women inhabit the same planet and that their sexual instincts are perfectly compatible. Even if we cannot reconstitute the utopian sexual situation, we can find peace in a better understanding of each other and correctly interpret the signals we receive, seeing how they complement our own perspective and fundamentally strive at outcomes which we also seek but might otherwise have missed.

And men want?

To love women. We do not just want to “score”, as this crude and ugly stereotype of our sexuality would have it. We really want to dive in, to lose ourselves in the feminine, to bring pleasure and adoration, to nurture, comfort and sustain. Not just one woman. All.

I both believe and feel this to be the fundamental nature of men. Although each woman contains all women, we all know it is a nonsense to circumscribe our erotic intuitions. We want to bring new women into the tribe, not out of superficiality and fear of commitment, but precisely out of an astounding capacity and a limitless desire to commit and to love. This is no zero-sum game or sequential monogamy, but a polyamorous instinct we share with women but which modern life frustrates us in realizing.

I hope this vision can deconstruct some stereotypes and help us find common ground. Ultimately, it seems to me there is no difference in what women and men want, but only in the relative ordering of their goals – women want first of all security and connection, men want first of all to lose themselves in love.