With Burt and Loni a thing of the past, we might as well kiss the institution of marriage goodbye. There they were, the very icons of middle- aged cuteness. And here they are now -- sounding like one of the nastier mismatches from The Love Connection. Nor are they alone. Despite countless warnings about how divorce is destroying the very foundations of Western Civ, the U.S. divorce rate remains stuck near 50%, higher than that of any other country that bothers to keep track.
"Permissiveness" is the standard explanation, meaning that we have become a slack-willed race, slaves to every passing genital urging. Why else would a man take up with a gorgeous blond cocktail waitress, forgetting that, for all practical purposes, he already had one at home? Permissiveness, according to the theory, makes us contemptuous of such "traditional values" as loyalty, self-sacrifice and the old till-death-do-us-part type of marriage.
The truth, I think, is that Americans love marriage too much. We rush into marriage with abandon, expecting a micro-Utopia on Earth. We pile all our needs onto it, our expectations, neuroses and hopes. In fact, we made marriage into the panda bear of human social institutions: we loved it to death.
Consider that marriage probably originated as a straightforward food-for-sex deal among foraging primates. Compatibility was not a big issue, nor of course was there any tension over who would control the remote. Today, however, a spouse is expected to be not only a co-provider and mate, but a co-parent, financial partner, romantic love object, best friend, fitness adviser, home repair-person and scintillating companion through the wasteland of Sunday afternoons. This is, rationally speaking, more than any one spouse can provide.
Probably the overload began with the Neolithic revolution, when males who were used to a career of hunting and bragging were suddenly required to stay home and help out with the crops. Then came the modern urban-industrial era, with the unprecedented notion of the "companionate marriage." Abruptly, the * two sexes -- who had gone for millenniums without exchanging any more than the few grunts required for courtship -- were expected to entertain each other with witty repartee over dinner.
Marriage might still have survived if it had not been for the sexual revolution and the radical new notion that one's helpmeet in life should, in addition to everything else, possess erotic skills formerly known to few other than to gigolos and ladies of the night. Now anxious spouses were forced to master concepts such as the G spot and "excitation plateau." Yet no one thought it odd that the person who mowed your lawn or folded your shirts was expected to provide orgasmic experiences at night.
In what other area of life would we demand that any one person fulfill such a huge multiplicity of needs? No one would ask his or her accountant to come by and prune the shrubbery, or the pediatrician to take out the garbage. Everywhere else we observe a strict division of labor; only in marriage do we demand the all-purpose, multivalent, Renaissance person.