Monogamies, Non-Monogamies, and the Moral Impermissibility of Intimacy Confining Constraints

Monogamies, Non-Monogamies, and the Moral Impermissibility of Intimacy Confining Constraints Justin Leonard Clardy Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships, Volume 6, Number 2, Fall 2019, pp. 17-36 (Article) Published by University of Nebraska Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/bsr.2019.0019 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/751167 [ This content has been declared free to read by the pubisher during the COVID-19 pandemic. ] Monogamies, Non-Monogamies, and the Moral Impermissibility of Intimacy Confining Constraints justin leonard clardy, Stanford University abstract—In this paper, I argue that intimacy confining constraints—or a categorical restriction on having additional intimate relationships—is morally impermissible. Though some scholars believe that this problem attaches exclusively to monogamous relationships, I argue that it also applies to non-monogamous relationships—such as polyfidelitous relationships—as well. As this point requires a deconstruction of the juxtaposition that erroneously places monogamy and non-monogamy as binary opposites, this paper reveals a variegated and interpenetrating field of intimate non-monogamous relationships, the existence of which gets us closer to realizing the transformative power contained within non-monogamous relationships. keywords—Ethics, Love, Monogamy, Polyamory, Fidelity, Intimacy contact—Justin Leonard Clardy, Ph.D, Stanford University, 13317 S. Hoover St., Gardena, CA 90247 Introduction Although there has been a considerable increase in the visibility of nonmonogamous relationships in the discourse on romantic love, nonmonogamists face yet another challenge. As individuals who identify as non-monogamous attempt to have their rights as non-monogamists acknowledged by the society at large, the community faces internal problems that might forestall the advancement of a unified agenda. The discourse in the philosophy of love over monogamy and non-monogamy has largely focused on the moral permissibility or impermissibility of these relationship styles. When this happens, there is a juxtaposition between monogamy and non-monogamy. That is, there is a tendency to justify the permissibility of one relational style by foregrounding its virtues against the other as its backdrop. As a result, monogamy and non-monogamy are situated as binary opposites whose opposition plays off of one another to create a tension between these ways of relating. The preoccupation with this juxtaposition can lead to neglecting important problems that some variations of each relationship style—monogamies and non-monogamies—share. For example, some argue that, insofar as sexual and romantic relationships are an important human good, monogamy’s categorical restriction on having additional partners is morally impermissible (Chalmers, 2018). Yet, in spite of the fact that this restriction is not exclusive to monogamous relationships, non-monogamous relationships that share this feature have not been problematized in the same ways. In general, many of us would think that there is something morally troubling about friendships that place this kind of constraint on its members. It is, at best, questionable whether friendships whose members restrict the formation of extrarelational friendships are morally permissible. Why, then, ought we to readily accept this kind of constraint on romantic relationships, whether they are monogamous or non-monogamous? Is there a morally relevant difference between friendships and romantic relationships that could justify these constraints in the case of romantic relationships?1 The strategy of juxtaposing monogamy against non-monogamy is Janusfaced: on the one hand, critical work on non-monogamy in the philosophy of love challenges many of us to rethink widely accepted narratives about love and romantic relationships, endeavoring toward a fundamental truth about the nature of romantic love. On the other hand, however, if critical work on non-monogamy is not critical of itself, it risks overstating the trans- 18 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 formative power non-monogamous romantic relationships can be thought to have. The latter can be harmful in a variety of ways. For example, it can perpetuate intimate privilege–or “the privileging of emergent articulations of intimacy as opposed to single intimate factors” (Rambukkana, 2015, p.38)—extended to monogamies and insular modes of non-monogamy by masking the fact that not all non-monogamous relationships are morally permissible; or it can flatten the diversity of experiences and representation of both people who are polyamorous and of polyamorous relationships. In order to unlock the transformative potential contained within nonmonogamous romantic relationships, we would be best served by viewing monogamy and non-monogamy as “aspects of a single system for relating sexually, romantically, socially, and culturally with multiple parts and different articulation.” (Ibid, p. 15) If we don’t, we may bypass opportunities to be critical of romantic relationships in ways that promote healthier and morally acceptable romantic relationships. In this paper, I argue that intimacy confining constraints that prevent one’s romantic partner(s) from pursuing or establishing extrarelational sexual or romantic relationships is morally impermissible. Before delving in to my analysis of monogamous and polyfidelitous romantic relationships, I would like to make a stipulation about my scope. The scope of my analysis focuses more on monogamous and nonmonogamous practices and less on monogamous and non-monogamous identities. I generally accept a distinction between romantic identity and romantic practices. In literature on monogamy and non-monogamy it is commonplace for scholars to either conflate monogamous identity with monogamous practice and non-monogamous identity with nonmonogamous practice or to under-specify which of the two, identity or practice, they are talking about. This kind of ambiguity can be found in the work of Harry Chalmers (Chalmers, 2018). For example, in an attempt to represent assumptions that are tethered to monogamy he writes, “The assumption that one’s partner is supposed to meet all of one’s personal needs, however, is itself a relic of monogamy . . . But absent a background of monogamy, the assumption that one’s partner is supposed to meet all of one’s personal needs collapses.” (Chalmers, 2018, p. 234) Chalmers fails to clarify whether the assumptions he represents are attendant to monogamous identity or monogamous practices. The lack of clarity here neglects the fact that some might identify as monogamous while practicing non-monogamy such as adulterers or people who commit to their non-monogamous Intimacy Confining Constraints 19 partners monogamously (Ritchie and Barker, 2006). It also neglects the fact that some people who identify as non-monogamous also share the assumption that “one’s partner(s) is supposed to meet all of one’s personal needs” in their practices. Additionally, Chalmers’ claim also masks the fact that some people who identify as monogamous sometimes engage in consensual non-monogamous activities such as threesomes and swinging— practices that fit more appropriately under the term “monogamish”.2 Intimate Relationships as an Important Human Good Human beings are social creatures. At any given moment, one’s individual existence is intricately bound up in relationship with others in a myriad of ways. We live in societies alongside others. We have parents that birth us and care for us as we are reared. We pursue, establish, and sustain friendships with others over the course of our lives. Some of us also do the same thing regarding romantic and sexual relationships with others. Other things being equal, many of us would think that these relationships are human goods. Setting aside, for now, the question of whether strangers who share a society can be legibly read as intimate relationships, my informed opinion is that these other sorts of relationships (i.e. familial, friendship, romantic, or sexual) are characteristically thought of as involving some degree of intimacy. Among other things, intimate relationships promote our well-being. In some cases, the intimate relationships we have with others enables the pursuit of and realization of our life’s projects. If it weren’t for being cared for by others upon entering in to the world, we would have all quickly perished shortly after birth, unable to formulate let alone pursue ends for ourselves. In other cases, they facilitate our capacities for establishing shared projects, instrumentally positioning us to cultivate other goods like caring for others, cooperating, or fine-tuning our capacity for empathy. Lacking intimate relationships in one or more of their several modes would make our lives intolerably empty. Intimate relationships importantly shape who we are as persons. Intimate relationships are human goods that we want for ourselves. We volitionally choose to pursue and sustain intimate relationships such as friendships, romantic relationships and sexual relationships. Some choose their family members (Catron, 2019). We also want this good for others. We are sometimes delighted by the joy that our friends experience from their 20 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 other friendships. Parents often express excitement when they get news that one of their own children is expecting to bring new life in to the world. Some romantic partners are supportive of their partners when they are cultivating new intimate relationships as in compersion. Intimate relationships contribute to our lives in morally meaningful ways. I have already noted the role that they play in aiding us in the establishment and pursuit of our ends. In intimate relationships, we are also uniquely positioned to honor morally relevant features of the world such as promise keeping. All else being equal, intimate relationships are human goods that ought to be pursued as agents see fit to pursue them. But this is not always the case. To see this, I would like to focus my attention on a subset of intimate relationships, namely, monogamous and polyfidelitous romantic relationships. Romantic Relationships and Intimacy Confining Constraints However the participants in a romantic relationship might identify relationally, monogamous romantic relationships are largely characterized by commitments of exclusivity. In Western societies, monogamous fidelity is often defined in terms of emotional, romantic, or sexual exclusivity. Admittedly, the concept of exclusivity can be ambiguous about the kind of temporal restraint lovers are supposed to take themselves to have. As Alan Soble writes, “someone who asserts that love is exclusive might mean that x can love one person period or that x can only love one person at a time.” (Soble, 1990, p. 169)3 Setting this ambiguity aside, suffice it to say that the more commonly assumed meaning is that we ordinarily mean something like the latter when we talk about monogamy (Ritchie and Barker, 2006). There might also be some ambiguity pertaining to the kind of exclusivity that is necessarily required for a romantic relationship to count as monogamous. Below, I explore some of the better-known forms of exclusivity—emotional, sexual, and romantic—with hopes of problematizing the way we think about the moral permissibility of intimacy confining restraints. While the existence of an extrarelational sexual relationship might be easy to track (i.e. by asking whether some partner in the relationship is engaging in extrarelational sex with some other person or object), the exclusivity associated with emotionality and relating romantically is decidedly murkier waters. In order to avoid essentialist concerns about whether monogamy essentially requires a combination of both sexual and emotional exclusivity or might either of Intimacy Confining Constraints 21 the two be independently sufficient, I am stipulating that I understand romantic exclusivity to mean the combination of both sexual and emotional exclusivity in romantic relationships,4 while allowing that some relationships which require emotional or sexual exclusivity, might be legibly read as monogamous. Pertaining to emotional exclusivity, monogamous romantic partners sometimes restrict one another from creating and sustaining extrarelational relationships that mimics the intimacy (or emotional closeness) in one’s romantic relationship and that may involve a consideration of a romantic commitment with the person the extrarelational relationship is with.5 Emotional affairs—or abuses against a relational requirement of emotional exclusivity—are believed to be grounds for the termination of romantic relationships, major disturbances or distractions to one’s romantic relationship, and also grounds for beliefs such as feeling betrayed by one’s partner (AAMFT)6. One might reasonably think that tracking whether one’s partner has a relationship that violates this kind of exclusivity is seemingly difficult insofar as emotional affairs are believed to be less demonstrable than sexual affairs. Be that as it may, for some lovers, emotional affairs are just as important as sexual affairs and as such, they pose similar threats to emotionally exclusive monogamous relationships (Whitty 2008). In addition to emotional exclusivity, parties to monogamous romantic relationships also require sexual exclusivity from one another.7 Reasons for this requirement vary. Speciality is one reason; people like for their partners to make them feel special. Monogamy inculcates the belief that there is some distinctiveness in being chosen as someone’s one and only. Another reason could be concerns about sexual health. The idea here is that maintaining multiple sexual relationships creates riskier conditions for the transmission of sexually transmitted infections. While sexual health is an important concern, as I show later on, it is not sufficient to make this kind of relationship constraint morally permissible. In fact, I will show how these intimacy confining constraints—or a categorical restriction on having additional intimate relationships of particular kinds—is morally impermissible. Monogamous romantic relationships are not the only kinds of romantic relationships that share this fate, however. Polyfidelitous romantic relationships, or “closed” group romantic relationships, are also characterized by exclusivity that involve intimacy confining constraints. Polyfidelitous romantic relationships are romantic relationships comprised of three or more people who are committed to 22 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 each other and are sexually, emotionally, and/or romantically exclusive within their relationship constellation or polycule.8 Polyfidelity “replaces the bilateral and asymmetrical demand of exclusivity characteristic of monogamous romantic relationships with a multilateral exclusivity” (Strauss, 2012, p. 535). People who practice polyfidelity tout their adherence to values like “commitment” and “being faithful” to the other partners in their polycule, in addition to their adherence to the values of open and honest communication among the partners in the relationship (Klesse, 2007, p.109). In general, polyamory can be thought of as more “open” in their commitment style than those who practice polyfidelity. Just as monogamy gets juxtaposed to non-monogamy broadly, polyfidelitous relationships are juxtaposed to polyamorous relationships—romantic relationships with multiple people at the same time with the knowledge and consent of everybody involved. Historically, the term “polyfidelity” has been a site of controversy and resistance within non-monogamous communities (Sheff, 2014, p. xiv). It has had a divisive impact on non-monogamists. Non-monogamists, for example, have made rigid, wedge generating, distinctions between polyamory and polyfidelity (Klesse, 2007, p. 109). A common distinction is that the essential difference between polyamory and polyfidelity is that the polyfideles expect sexual exclusivity within their specific group and the polyamorists do not (Ibid.). The distinction is found in the fact that “polyfideles (the term for someone who is a polyfidelitist) generally expect the people in their group to be sexually exclusive [and to not take on additional partners] and polyamorist do not” (Sheff, 2014, p.3). Consequently, discourses have been created around which of these forms of non-monogamy “represents “true” polyamory and which kinds of non-monogamy can legitimately carry the label [ethical] non-monogamy”(Klesse 2017, p.109). The discourses on monogamy and non-monogamy are rife with juxtapositions. The juxtapositions typically look like this: Monogamists can be found to look down upon non-monogamists broadly (i.e., swingers, polyamorists, and polyfidelitists, etc.) for what they identify as a lack of commitment in romantic relationships due to their rejection of a dyadic romantic relationship structure; Polyamorists can be found to look down upon monogamists for what they identify as unhealthy suppression of desire and a lack of courage to engage in open and honest dialogue with their partners surrounding extrarelational desires; Polyfideles can be found to look down on monogamists for similar reasons as polyamorists Intimacy Confining Constraints 23 do. Additionally, they can be found to look down upon polyamorists (and other forms of non-monogamy such as adulterers and swingers) for what they identify as a lack of commitment and faithfulness (read as exclusivity) in their non-monogamous relationship constellations, in spite of their adherence to other shared values such as open and honest communication among partners in the relationship. Finally, polyamorists can be found to look down upon polyfideles precisely because of their adherence to the values of “committedness” and “faithfulness” that they believe to be relics of monogamy and monogamous culture (Sheff 2014, p. 4).9 Beyond a bitter bickering over ethicality in romantic relationships between the groups, the juxtapositions that are found both throughout the literature on monogamy and non-monogamy in the philosophy of love and throughout monogamous and non-monogamous communities, point to something larger. The strategies that are employed to demonstrate the ethicality of these intimate relationships, reveal something about the backdrop that makes these juxtapositions legible—namely that it is mononormative and amatonormative. Focusing on the interlocking nature of these normativities reveals them as mechanisms working to maintain certain kinds of intimacies (monogamy and polyfidelity) in positions of hegemonic dominance. Amatonormativity and mononormativity bolster the thought that ethically permissible romantic relationships are committed and fidelitous (read as sexually and romantically exclusive). “Amatonormativity” is the term coined by feminist philosopher Elizabeth Brake to represent the default assumptions that central, monogamous, romantic (and usually heterosexual) relationships (that lead to marriage) are the ideal form of romantic relationships and a universally shared goal (Brake 2012, p.88).10 Mononormativity is “the dominant discourse of monogamy which is reproduced and perpetuated in everyday conversation and saturates mainstream media depictions” (Ritchie and Barker 2006, p.584). Where the two interlock is that both involve, to some degree, an exaltation of exclusivity due to an allegiance to monogamy and monogamous culture. Because of this, discursive objects that are disseminated socially and politically about romantic relationships, such as marriage magazines, romantic comedies, or love songs across multiple genres, that are dyadic, monogamous, and exclusive, will exhibit a tendency to jointly propagate values of ethicality at the expense of other intimate relationships that are non-monogamous. The two also diverge slightly; mononormativity focuses on addressing the specificity of hegemonic monogamy without much regard to the importance one’s romantic relation24 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 ship has in one’s life, whereas amatonormativity gives some priority to this importance. Amatonormativity on the other hand, with its preoccupation with monogamous dyads, pays little attention to the ways that polyfidelitous relationships may occupy a central place in the lives of its participants and may also be exclusive in similar ways as monogamous relationships are. On my view, these two normative structures’ interlocking natures reinforce a system of “intimate privilege”—understood as, “the privileging of emergent articulations of intimacy as opposed to single intimate factors” (Rambukkana 2015, p. 38)—that privileges exclusive forms of intimate relationship structures over non-exclusive forms of intimate relationships such as adultery, polyamory, and friendships. Nathan Rambukkana writes that, “what we think of in isolation as “monogamy” is merely one surface of a more complex non/monogamous system that structures much of how we, configure, and even strive to refigure intimate relations” (Rambukkana 2015, p. 149). Instead of juxtaposing monogamies and non-monogamies, this broader system of non/monogamy is one that places monogamies and non-monogamies on one and the same spectrum of intimate relationships. Rambukkana states that “monogamy and non-monogamy are less binary opposites, an opposed pair whose sides play off each other, than they are two aspects of a single system for relating sexually, romantically, socially, and culturally, with multiple parts and different articulations” (Rambukkana 2015, p. 15). Holding this concept of “non/monogamy” in the backdrop of discussions about intimate privilege is useful because it is a singular thread that runs through monogamies and non-monogamies alike. By cutting across the fabricated distinctions by which we see ourselves as having membership in one or the other, it enables the recognition that evaluative judgements associated with intimate privilege are made possible only through the systematic entanglement of both monogamies and nonmonogamies (Rambukkana 2015, p. 46). In linking the issue of privilege with that of intimate relationships, Rabukkanna’s analysis nuances our understanding of intimate relationships and we come to see them as overlapping with—as opposed to being independent of—one another. Furthermore, by helping us foreground the (good) treatment that privileged intimacies are the beneficiaries of, it has the crystalizing effect of situating our understanding of intimate privilege into finer relief. Under mononormative and amatonormative logics, monogamy should be the normative state of affairs. The logics of amatonormativity and mononormativity are pervasive and for many people, exposure to them beIntimacy Confining Constraints 25 gins from youth. We get a hand here from Carrie Jenkins who has her readers consider the children’s rhyme called “K-I-S-S-I-N-G”. The rhyme goes as follows: [Name] and [name] sittin’ in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage. (Jenkins 2017)11 We uncover the power of the rhyme and narrative by looking past what the rhyme says and looking to what the rhyme does. Jenkins speaks of the rhyme’s function as “ingraining in [children’s] minds” ideas about intimate relationships that are dyadic (and typically heterosexual) (Jenkins 2017, p.51). The rhyme also positions romantic love as existing on a linear trajectory that tends toward marriage and reproductive sex. These mononormative and amatonormative narratives and their associative logics are reinforced at various levels. Socially, these narratives are reinforced through the propagation of media that represents romantic love as being dyadic. Politically, the institution of marriage has many forms of legal discrimination attached to it from legally imposed penalties for adultery to housing laws that protect married dyads at the expense of making non-monogamous cohabitation more costly. Consequently, socio-cultural space gets hegemonically organized in a way that concentrates power and privileges (e.g. legal protections and relational legibility) with monogamy and monogamous romantic relationships. From the perspective of scholars of non-monogamy like Mimi Schippers, non-monogamy possesses a transformative potential for being able to challenge and disrupt the hegemonic organization of societies that centralize monogamy in discourse around romantic relationships. Yet, if transformative mechanisms of resistance are to be successful, we should suspect the realizability of this potential to have achieved independence from the homogeneous sources from which this hegemony extends. If the mechanisms of resistance are not independent, we have compelling reason to be skeptical of the autonomy of that resistance, and thereby, its purported transformative potential. We need to know, for example that that resistance is autonomous enough to not be co-opted or worse, that the resistance is itself inauthentic in a way that efficaciously reifies the hegemony is was intended to disrupt—à la Audre Lorde “for the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” (Lorde, 2012, p. 112) 26 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 Take adultery for example. At first glance, the relationship between monogamy and adultery or cheating is on tenterhooks. A closer look at adultery and cheating, though, reveals these narratives to be important mechanisms for sustaining mononormativity and amatonormativity as unscathed hegemonic norms. The normative force that monogamy has is partly generated in its seeming ability to be contrasted with non-monogamous ways of relating. As such, in amatonormative and mononormative societies, monogamy is lauded while adulterers and cheaters “are collectively and publicly punished, [and] others are discouraged from engaging [in non-monogamous] behavior,” (Schippers, 2016, p. 43). Pepper Mint also writes of the relationship between monogamy and cheating, . . . monogamy needs cheating in a fundamental way. In addition to serving as the demonized opposite of monogamy, the mark of cheater is used as a threat to push individuals to conform to monogamous behavior and monogamous appearances (Mint, 2004, p. 59–60). Mint correctly observes the ways that cheaters and adulterers are used as the props against which “normal [lovers] can measure their morals against” (Ibid, p. 58–59). By positing cheating as “the demonized opposite of monogamy”, Mint seemingly positions cheating as an independent counterforce of that opposes monogamy, instead of a form of intimacy that is contained within the same amatonormative and mononormative logics that monogamy is. It is because of the default assumptions about romantic relationships’ tendency toward monogamy that disapproving attitudes about the non-monogamies of cheating and adultery can be made. Through subterfuge, cheating keeps dyadic understandings of romantic love intact (Rambukkana, 2015, p. 160–161). Bearing this connection to monogamy, cheating is, more aptly, a subaltern logic that functions to uphold monogamy’s value and its subsequent privileges as a kind of intimacy. Friendship is another example. Initially, one might balk at the thought that friendship functions in ways that uphold amatonormativity and monogamy. After all, friendships may seem too unlike the amatonormative ideal of a dyadic romantic relationship. Friendships are typically thought to be at least partially characterized by the fact that they do not exist in a romantic mode. However, romantic relationships, quidem, just are friendships of a certain kind. They are both attitude-dependent relationships; a romantic relationship is one where the parties to the relationship share the additional Intimacy Confining Constraints 27 attitude that the relationship that they are engaging in is romantic (Kolodny, 2003). Aside this point is the fact that for some people, friendships play a similar role in their lives and may hold just as much (if not more) importance as romantic relationships do. This is especially the case when the friendship is a dated one and the romantic relationship is beginning anew. Indeed “for some people, these friendships are explicitly seen as replacing, and preferable to, amorous relationships” (Brake, 2012, p. 90). The significance of friendships can be shown by calling to mind the fact that friends regularly engage in care taking responsibilities for one another (e.g. physically, emotionally, or economically) or engage in activities that, in amatonormative societies, are conventionally associated with romantic relationships such as having sex or cohabitation. All of this points to overlapping roles that friends or romantic partners might occupy. In spite of this, friendships are seldom accorded the same social importance as romantic relationships are. While friendships may be just as central and significant as romantic relationships, they are not regarded in the same way. The social scripts that shape attitudes about friendship in amatonormative societies effectively use friendship as a reification of the very amatonormative values that they purport. For example, friendships are not seen as providing good social reasons for action. Plans that one might have with one’s friends are generally not accepted as legitimate reasons to skip attending events with one’s families or romantic partner(s). Another example comes to mind when we consider how situations involving a conflict between commitments to one’s friends and one’s romantic partner(s) are expected to be resolved. The general expectation in amatonormative societies is to resolve the tension in a way that ultimately satisfies one’s partner(s) (even at the expense of harming one’s friend(s)), hoping that friends “will understand”. The refusal to accord friendships their appropriate value judgements, particularly in the latter example, accurately depict the reification of the alleged value of romantic relationships in amatonormative societies. The normative expectation is that friends are to passively accept an inferior placement along, say, hierarchies of consideration, leaving romantic relationships (and particularly, monogamous romantic relationships) as an unscathed hegemonic norm atop the hierarchy—depositing power back into the place from which it came and is concentrated. A well-worn justification—the justification from purported emotional depth—of the discriminative value judgement that friendships ought to 28 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 be regarded as less valuable than romantic relationships comes up short.12 The thought is that what distinguishes friendships from romantic relationships is that romantic relationships are characteristically more intimate than friendships. This intimacy, one may say, is what parties to romantic relationships are trying to protect by placing conditions of exclusivity on their relationships. By insulating one’s intimacy expenditures inside of one’s romantic relationship, so the thought goes, relational intimacy is guarded against external threats that could potentially detract from it. It is important to note a few things here. First, it is not immediately clear that this kind of insulation protects intimacy from external threats. One may plausibly have various extrarelational commitments such as a commitment to one’s career, that diverts the beloved’s attention away from their romantic relationship, thereby detracting however slightly, from potential intimacy that might be had in one’s romantic relationship. Next, friendship too, might have conditions of exclusivity placed on them that are thought to protect the intimacy present within those relationships. Sometimes, best friends are envious or jealous of one’s other intimate friendships that they take to resemble the best friendship causing them to temporarily or permanently distance themselves from their best friend. This act of distancing plausibly detracts from potential intimacy that might be had in one’s friendship. Finally, if the distinction between friendships and romantic relationships is to be found through the recognition that romantic relationships characteristically contain more intimacy, then friendships and romantic relationships are indeed located upon the same spectrum of intimacy that Rambukkana’s non/monogamy reveals. The Moral Impermissibility of Intimacy Confining Constraints Monogamous romantic relationships, non-monogamous romantic relationships, and friendships all exist along the same spectrum of intimate relationships. We are now in a position to see the moral impermissibility of intimacy confining constraints. Imagine a few cases: Case 1: x and y are in a friendship. Imagine further that x and y have agreed that neither is allowed to have additional friends. Case 2: x and y are in a monogamous romantic relationship and, a fortiori, are also friends. Imagine further that x and y have agreed that neither is allowed to have additional friends. Intimacy Confining Constraints 29 Case 3: x and y are in a monogamous romantic relationship and, a fortiori, are also friends. Imagine further that they have agreed that neither is allowed to have additional romantic or sexual partners. Intuitively, many of us would think that cases 1 and 2 are morally troubling. As I stated earlier, friendships are a human good. Whether we are in a romantic relationship or a friendship, friendships are a human good that we should desire for others to have in their lives as they see fit. In morally palatable circumstances, x would want y to have the goods of friendship in their life. If x lacks a positive desire for y to have these goods in their life, x should, at the very least, want y’s pursuit of such goods to be as least cumbersome as possible. Making the pursuit of these goods as least cumbersome as possible involves x’s refraining from imposing undue costs on y, enabling y to pursue these goods as y sees fit. If y desires to pursue friendships or becomes friends with someone, z, outside of their relationship with x, then, x should not impose costs on y for doing so, including x “withdrawing their love, affections, or willingness to continue the relationship”. (Chalmers, 2018, p. 1) In case 3, there may seem to be nothing that is morally suspect about x and y’s romantic relationship being exclusive in this way. Yet, sexual and romantic relationships are also human goods. They may contribute to our well-being by providing emotional closeness, sexual pleasure, or by helping us learn more about ourselves (Ibid.). Because of this, we may instead suspect that x should be happy for and supportive of y’s establishing extrarelational relationships that are romantic, sexual, or both. Now consider a fourth case: Case 4: x, y, and z are in a non-monogamous romantic relationship and, a fortiori, are also friends. Imagine further that they have agreed that no party to the romantic relationship is allowed to have additional romantic or sexual partners. Case 4 differs from case 3 in that it presents a romantic relationship that is an extra-dyadic configuration of a romantic relationship—a kind of polycule. However, cases 3 and 4 are similar in that they both contain a similar intimacy confining constraint—namely, that the partners in the romantic relationship are restricted from pursuing or establishing extrarelational relationships that are romantic or sexual. One might be inclined to think that this kind of restriction placed upon the relationships in cases 3 and 4 are morally permissible because the romantic mode of a relationship is, itself, 30 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 sufficient to justify the insularity in the service of protecting the already existing romantic relationship(s). But it is not clear that cases 3 and 4 differ from the morally troublesome case 2. The task would be to find a morally relevant difference between case 2 and cases 3 and 4. However, this may be more difficult than it might seem prima facie. I will address two standard strategies for carving out morally relevant differences between friends and romantic partners—an appeal to distinctive value or specialness and an appeal to sex—and I argue that they come up short. It may be thought that there are no good reasons to restrict one’s friends or partners from having additional friends. However, there are good reasons to restrict one’s partner(s) from having more than one romantic or sexual relationship at a time. When we choose to enter in to romantic relationships with some people and not others, it is because they are special. The belief here is that we choose our romantic partner(s) because of their distinctive value qua romantic partner. This distinctive value is believed to be enough to justify intimacy confining constraints. However, if having one partner or a select insulated few partners make for a more romantic relationship, and this value is enough to justify intimacy confining constraints against pursuing additional relationships of the same mode, then it is curious why the distinctive value that friendships have would not justify a similar restraint in the case of friendship, as in case 1. But an appeal to distinctive value could not justify the restraint in case 1 as it is far from clear how having additional friendships would make any particular friendship less special. It is possible for relationships that exist in the same mode to each have their own distinctive value without calling into question the speciality of other relationship existing in that mode. There is no good reason to think that insulating one’s romantic relationship with such a restraint as is present in cases 3 and 4 makes one’s relationship more special. Another strategy is an appeal to the fact of sexual activity in romantic relationships. I should note here that this strategy is not altogether unrelated to the appeal to distinctive value. When an appeal is made to index the distinctive value had by romantic relationships, this is sometimes what is meant. Be that as it may, this might be why cases 1 and 2 seem more morally troubling than cases 3 and 4. The appeal to sex has multiple parts. One might mean the fact that romantic relationships are partly based on sex make them more distinctively valuable. However, the logic applied against the appeal to distinctive value applies to this case as well. Additionally, though, it would also seem that Intimacy Confining Constraints 31 a distinctively valuable romantic relationship without the possibility of sex is possible, as in the case of romantic relationships among people who are asexual. It should also be noted that sometimes friendships also involve sex and this may or may not make them more distinctively valuable. The appeal to sex also sometimes involves an appeal to higher risk of sexually transmitted infections or of unwanted pregnancy. Concerns about sexual health are serious. But it is not clear that this concern is sufficiently wide enough to capture the full range of restrictions that are typically bound up in restraining one’s self from pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship with someone else. The restraint might involve forgoing attending a social event, say, bowling, to forestall the possibility of interacting with others with whom one might potentially sexually or romantically relate. Also, for non-monogamous practitioners in developed societies with access to contraception, protection, and sexual health assessment mechanisms, it is questionable whether this concern is sufficient to justify this restraint. Aside this point is also the fact that many activities that people find worthwhile have risks associated with them, such as driving, and yet they are still worth doing. It is not clear that the concern from sexual health is sufficient to justify this intimacy confining restraint. There may be a number of additional strategies that are used to index morally relevant differences between restraining one’s partner(s) from pursuing or establishing extrarelational friendships and restraining one’s partner(s) from pursuing or establishing extrarelational sexual or romantic relationships. I do not have the space to consider every such strategy here, but I have considered two of the more common strategies. I have shown that these strategies come up short in indexing that morally relevant difference. Thus, an intimacy confining constraint preventing one’s partner from pursuing or establishing extrarelational sexual or romantic relationships is at least as troubling as an intimacy confining constraint preventing one’s partner from pursuing or establishing extrarelational friendships. There is no good reason to prevent one’s partner from pursuing these human goods and so to do so by making their pursuit more cumbersome is morally impermissible. Conclusion I have suggested that monogamous romantic relationships and some nonmonogamous romantic relationships such as polyfidelitous romantic rela32 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 tionships have more in common than they are typically thought to have. The realization that romantic relationships are a kind of intimate relationship, amongst a plurality of other kinds of intimate relationships such as friendships, emphasizes the point that intimate relationships can be understood as existing on a spectrum. Nathan Rambukkana calls this spectrum the non/monogamy spectrum. The non/monogamy spectrum reveals how some forms of intimate relationships such as monogamous romantic relationships and polyfidelitous romantic relationships are beneficiaries of intimate privilege—definition. It also shows how monogamy and polyfidelity function to uphold morally problematic normative structures like amatonormativity and mononormativity. In order to highlight and address ways that monogamies and nonmonogamies can both function to uphold these normativities in similar ways, I focused on the extent to which both may contain intimacy confining constraints. A closer look at the intimacy confining constraints that are characteristic of some monogamies and non-monogamies showed that there is no good reason to prevent one’s partner from pursuing the human goods of sexual and romantic relationships as they see fit and that to do so is morally impermissible. This analysis gets us past comparisons of monogamy and non-monogamies that frame them as binary opposites in tension with one another, and move us closer to understanding what morally palatable romantic relationships should involve, no matter if their structure is monogamous or non-monogamous in form. Justin Leonard Clardy is a Post-Doctoral Fellow at Stanford University. His research in the Philosophy of Love focuses on normative questions that arise within the contexts of interpersonal relationships and political theories. Within that context, he has special interests in questions about social justice and emotion such as love, sympathy, compassion, and tenderness. Acknowledgements The completion of this paper was made possible only through the various support I received over the course of writing it. Stanford and Pepperdine Universities played integral roles institutionally. I am thankful for the space and academic resources that were provided to me on their behalf as I completed this project. Additionally, I would like to acknowledge my colleagues Zach Biondi, Kevin Morris, and Kimberly Ann Harris for their readiness to provide feedback on my thoughts as this paper developed. I am also thankful for audiences at Pepperdine University and at Black Poly Intimacy Confining Constraints 33 Pride 2019 for pushing me to consider the pressing issues that this paper is about. Finally, the sincerest thank you to Laura Marshall, Elyse Ambrose, Mason Marshall, and Nayasia Coleman for their various forms of support as I brought this project to completion. Notes 1. Today, both in philosophy and colloquially, the terms ‘morality’ and ‘ethics’ are used interchangeably and that is how I make use of the terms throughout this work. It is worth noting, however, that within the history of philosophy ‘ethics’ has been more concerned with questions surrounding the good life (i.e. what is the good life and how might be it achieved?); whereas morals and morality have historically been more concerned with right action in individual cases. 2. The term “monogamish” was coined by sex columnist Dan Savage. Savage’s term highlights the fact that monogamy exists on a spectrum and that there is good reason to avoid taking one group of monogamous people, practices, or ideologies as representative and highlights of the multiple meanings and understanding both, between and within, groups and individuals practicing openly non-monogamous relationships. For more on Savage’s characterization of the term, the interested reader should see Mark Oppenheimer, “Married, With Infidelities,” New York Times, June 30, 2011, https://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/03/magazine/infidelity-will-keep -us-together.html. 3. The reader should make no mistake of underestimating the importance of resolving this ambiguity as there might be drastically different entailments about the metaphysical nature of love. 4. This stipulation is an important one as some relationships may be thought of as romantic even though they are only exclusive across one of the other two dimensions—sexual or emotional. This point is tethered to the point I make earlier about the distinction between monogamous identity and monogamous practices. 5. The characterization of this restriction against extra relational emotional involvement is inspired by an account of “emotional affairs” that I develop in an unpublished manuscript. 6. “Infidelity” (American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy, n.d.), https://www.aamft.org/Consumer_Updates/Infidelity.aspx. 7. The reader should note that there is a difference between the requirement for sexual and romantic exclusivity. Sometimes monogamous relationships are characterized by the bundle of requirements that encompasses emotional, sexual, and romantic exclusivity. However, monogamy doesn’t essentially mean this bundle. Some require emotional exclusivity and not sexual exclusivity as I mention above. In this case, it might still make sense to say that the parties to the relationships are in a monogamous relationship across a certain dimension. Being careful, we might qual- 34 Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships · Vol. 6 · No. 2 ify this relationship by saying that it is an “emotionally monogamous” relationship. However, conversationally we are seldom this careful. 8. I realize that this definition may be contentious or controversial insofar as I signal romantic and emotional exclusivity. Many of the going definitions of polyfidelity foreground the extent to which polyfidelitous relationships require sexual exclusivity. For views of polyfidelity that do this see, Deborah M. Anapol, Polyamory in the Twenty-First Century: Love and Intimacy with Multiple Partners (Lanham, Md: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2010); Elisabeth Sheff, The Polyamorists next Door: Inside Multiple-Partner Relationships and Families (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc, 2014); Christian Klesse, The Spectre of Promiscuity: Gay Male and Bisexual Non-Monogamies and Polyamories (Routledge, 2016). I find this way of talking about polyfidelitous relationships to be far too narrow to produce a targeted and careful analysis of what fidelity can look like in the context of polyamorous relationships. For example, an asexual polyamorist may be in a polyfidelitous romantic relationship that is emotionally, but not sexually exclusive. Just as monogamy exists on a spectrum, it is my view that so too do non-monogamies. 9. Some go as far as to characterize those who practice polyfidelity as practicing “monogamy plus” and harboring a “closed-minded” approach to romantic relationships. 10. Brake’s definition includes a mention of the fact that amatonormativity is “usually heterosexual.” Some critics of heteronormativity argue that the exclusive, dyadic relationship is a heterosexual ideal. To the extent that exclusive, dyadic relationships are a heterosexual ideal, amatonormativity does overlap with heteronormativity. However, I take the dyadic/exclusive/monogamous relationship model as something that exists independent of heterosexuality, as can be seen in same sex monogamous, romantic relationships. However, I set this point aside as addressing it fully would take us too far afield here. 11. The articulation of the rhyme is particularly troubling in some marginalized communities in American society as it also uncovers the pervasiveness of children’s exposure to substance addiction and abuse. For example, among African Americans, sometimes the rhyme includes the addendum “That’s not all, that’s not all, then comes the Daddy drinkin’ alcohol.” 12. This is not the only justificatory rationale. There are at least two more fairly common rationales offered for this proposition: one from romantic emotionality and the other from sexual activity. References Anapol, Deborah M. Polyamory in the Twenty-First Century: Love and Intimacy with Multiple Partners. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2010. 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