The Un-Craig

In a touching article memorializing a recently deceased gay friend, Steve Lonegan, the mayor of Bogota, New Jersey, provides a timely reminder that there's a very different way to be a gay Republican office-holder. That's the path Lonegan has chosen: openly gay and dedicated to the principles of the Open Society. Lonegan writes:

Historically, gay Americans have struggled for the freedom to live their lives the way they choose in order to pursue happiness. This is the American Dream, the cornerstone of conservative thinking, and it is these principles that make the increasingly influential gay community the conservative movement's natural ally.

Sadly, it is just about impossible to imagine any nationally prominent Republican, gay or straight, make that statement-as opposed to the kind of statement Sen. Larry Craig made ("I am not gay")

Oops...my bad. Commenter Steve notes that Lonegan is not gay. I misread Lonegan's line about a "fellow conservative who also happened to be gay." Plus I must have become so used to straight Republicans' making obtuse statements that I automatically assumed Lonegan wasn't straight. These days, in the GOP, it's politically easier to be gay than gay-friendly.

Thompson Makes Three!

An official "clarification" over at NationalReview.com makes clear that former Senator, and likely Republican presidential candidate, Fred Thompson opposes a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage.

Of the four leading Republican presidential contenders, three-Rudy Giuliani, John McCain, and the all-but-declared Thompson-oppose what only three years ago was the Republicans' most prized cultural wedged issue. Recall that in 2004 all but five Senate Republicans voted for the amendment. Now it's amendment-supporting (and exquisitely inconsistent) Mitt Romney who's the odd one out.

This is a sea-change. And yet another sign that George W. Bush's sharp turn right is proving ephemeral.

Thompson does favor an amendment leaving gay marriage to the states. On the merits, that's a debatable measure. But it's a far cry from a national ban. Just ask James Dobson and Gary Bauer, who must be gnashing their teeth right now.

Extra: NGLTF Nails Democrats!

National Gay and Lesbian Task Force prez Matt Foreman sez the Dem candidates are less supportive of gay equality than Bill Clinton was in 1992 (!):

It's déjà vu all over again - the GOP often slyly and sometimes audaciously whips us for political gain. The Democrats include us - sorta - but only in response to a direct question and typically in the language of careful legislative reform.

This must change...We deserve and we must demand from the Democratic 2008 presidential candidates the simple and straightforward statement that our humanity requires full respect and fair treatment by all and, further, an equally simple and straightforward condemnation of those who seek to use our lives for political gain. This needs to be said in front of all audiences - not just in front of us.

Fair enough, but why only demand respect from "the Democratic 2008 presidential candidates"? Why not make the same demands of Republicans? When gay activists write off Republicans, they cede the GOP to the soft bigotry of low expectations.

More from Planet Paul

Jamie Kirchick says Ron Paul is a homophobe. Andrew Sullivan says he's just ignorant. I was going with confused and evasive until I saw Paul's latest, from a google.com interview:

'Don't ask, don't tell' doesn't sound all that bad to me because as an employer, I've never asked them [employees] anything and I don't want them to tell me anything. ... So I would say that everyone should be treated equally, and they [gays] shouldn't be discriminated against because of that alone. Which means that even though those words aren't offensive to me, that 'Don't ask, don't tell' don't sound so bad to me, I think the way it's enforced is bad. Because, literally, if somebody is a very, very good individual working for our military - and I met one just the other day in my office, who was a translator - and he was kicked out for really no good reason at all. I would want to change that, I don't support that interpretation.

He seems to be opposing the military's DADT policy and anti-gay discrimination. In fact, he seems to favor the closet for everyone in the workplace, not just gays. Maybe he's just weird.

Given his age (72, almost) and party (Republican, sort of), give him some credit for maybe opposing DADT and definitely opposing the Federal Marriage Amendment. But rather than psychoanalyzing him, we need to get this guy to be specific. As president, would he support and sign repeal of DADT? Civil unions or federal domestic-partner recognition? Immigration rights for gay couples?

I doubt he's given it much thought. Let's change that.

“Out and Proud Parents”

Word of America's gay-straight cultural convergence-surely the major gay culture story of our time-reaches Britain's redoubtable Economist. The magazine got some interesting, and so far as I know hitherto unpublished, numbers from Williams Institute (UCLA) demographer Gary Gates (gotta love that smile):

...gay America is becoming more like Middle America. "Much of the stereotype around gays is a stereotype of urban white gay men," says Mr Gates. "The gay community is becoming less like that, and more like the population in general." Gay couples are still more likely than straight ones to live in cities, but the gap is smaller than popularly believed, and closing. In 1990, 92% of gay couples but only 77% of American households were in what the Census Bureau calls "urban clusters". By 2000, the gay figure had fallen to 84% while the proportion for households in general had risen to 80%, a striking convergence.

Notice how much things changed in only ten years. The age of homosexual exceptionalism is ending faster than would have seemed possible even a few years ago.

Gay Marriage: The Case Against the Case Against

Review of The Future of Marriage, by David Blankenhorn (Encounter Books)

When I came out with a book making the case for same-sex marriage a few years ago, I expected to spend time selling gay marriage to straight people and marriage to gay people. The surprise was how much time I spent selling marriage to straight people.

By marriage, I mean not just a commitment that two people make to each other. Marriage is a commitment that the two spouses also make to their community. They promise to look after each other and their children so society won't have to; in exchange, society deems them a family and provides an assortment of privileges, obligations, and caregiving tools. (Not, mostly, "benefits.") Marriage does much more than ratify relationships, I would tell audiences; it fortifies relationships by embedding them in a dense web of social expectations. That is why marriage, with or without children, is a win-win deal, strengthening individuals, families, and communities all at the same time. Gay marriage, I said, would be the same positive-sum transaction. The example gay couples set by marrying instead of shacking up might even strengthen marriage itself.

Audiences received my gay-marriage pitch in predictably varied ways. What consistently surprised me, however, was how few people thought of marriage as anything more than a private contract. Particularly among groups of younger people, the standard view was that marriage is just an individual lifestyle choice. If chosen, great. If not chosen, great. I would leave such encounters with a troubling thought: Perhaps straights were becoming receptive to gay marriage partly because they had devalued marriage itself.

What's Marriage For?

In his new book, The Future of Marriage, David Blankenhorn begins where my doubts left off. Blankenhorn is the founder and president of his own think tank, the Institute for American Values, and has built his career on the restoration of fatherhood to the center of American family life. In The Future of Marriage, he emerges as an articulate, humane, and fair-minded opponent of same-sex marriage, which he regards as nothing less than part of an effort to steal children's patrimony. "It would require us, legally and formally, to withdraw marriage's greatest promise to the child-the promise that, insofar as society can make it possible, I will be loved and raised by the mother and father who made me." He takes jabs at me, among other gay-marriage advocates, but in my case he plays fair. And Blankenhorn is ambitious. He wants to lift the gay-marriage debate from its isolation in the mud-pit of the partisan culture wars and place it within a larger theory of marriage. He also wants to put an end to the days when gay-marriage advocates can say that there is no serious case against gay marriage. In both respects, he succeeds.

As I read, I made note of points on which he and I agree. I soon found myself running out of paper. Marriage, we both believe, is a vital institution, not just equal to competing family arrangements from society's point of view but preferable; it is an institution embedded in society, not a mere contract between individuals; it is social, not just legal, and so cannot be twisted like a pretzel by court order; it has (almost) everywhere and always been heterosexual and entwined with procreation, and should be. Gay marriage, we both believe, is a significant change that entails risk (though we assess the risks very differently); but gay marriage, we also believe, is a supporting character in the much larger drama of shifting social values. We agree that heterosexuals, not homosexuals, will determine marriage's fate and have handled matrimony pretty poorly without any gay help. And we agree that children, on average (please note the qualifier), do best when raised by their biological mother and father, though he makes more sweeping claims on that score than I would. That is a great deal of common ground, which makes it all the more interesting that we come out in utterly different places and that gay marriage, in some ways, turns out to be the least of our disagreements.

For Blankenhorn, "the most important trend affecting marriage in America" is not same-sex marriage. It is the "deinstitutionalization" of marriage-that is, "the belief that marriage is exclusively a private relationship"-of which gay marriage is merely a prominent offshoot. To his credit, he understands and forthrightly acknowledges that the individualistic view of marriage "has deep roots in our society and has been growing for decades, propagated overwhelmingly by heterosexuals."

Marriage creates kin. In society's eyes, it distinguishes a relationship from a family. The trouble, for Blankenhorn, with declaring any old kind of relationship a family-with turning marriage into "a pretty label for a private relationship"-is that marriage evolved and exists for a specific social reason, which is to bind both parents, especially fathers, to their biological children. Same-sex marriage, he argues, denies this principle, because its "deep logic" is that a family is whatever we say it is, and it changes the meaning of marriage "for everyone" (his italics). For support, he draws on the writings of left-wing activists and academics who favor same-sex marriage precisely because, they hope, it would knock mom-dad-child marriage off its pedestal. Granting marriage rights to gay couples, who even in principle cannot unite biological fathers and mothers with their children, would "require us in both law and culture to deny the double origin of the child." Once that happens, we "transform marriage once and for all from a pro-child social institution into a post-institutional private relationship."

In plainer English, Blankenhorn is saying that marriage is designed to discriminate in favor of conjugal families and must continue to do so. Egalitarians may hate that idea, but it isn't stupid or bigoted. Blankenhorn is correct to think society has a strong interest in keeping fathers, mothers, and children together; many of today's problems of crime, poverty, and inequality flow directly from the breakdown of families. But there Blankenhorn and I part ways. He says he is all for maintaining the dignity and equality of gay people, but he believes that changing marriage's most venerable boundary is the wrong way to do so. I am all for maintaining the strength of marriage and family, but I think that telling homosexuals (and their kids) they can't form legal families is the wrong way to do so.

One Purpose, or Many?

Having written a whole book on the subject, I won't rehearse here why I think gay marriage is good family policy. Suffice it to say that, in a society riddled with divorce and fatherlessness, family policy's essential task is to shore up marriage's status as a norm. In a world where gay couples look married, act married, talk married, raise kids together, and are increasingly accepted as married, the best way to preserve marriage's normative status is to bring gay couples inside the tent. Failing to do so, over time, will tar marriage as discriminatory, legitimize co-habitation and other kinds of non-marriage, and turn every successful gay couple into a cultural advertisement for the expendability of matrimony.

Blankenhorn clearly disagrees. Our disagreement over how gay marriage will affect marriage's normative status, however, is well-plowed ground. So I'll move along to what Blankenhorn rightly considers his deeper and more important arguments, which are about the nature of marriage itself. Near the beginning of his book, Blankenhorn calls childrearing (by which he means the rearing of children by their biological parents) "probably the single most important social need that marriage is designed to meet, but there are numerous others as well." Two pages later, however, he makes a more unequivocal statement: "Without children, marriage as an institution makes little sense." Though he regularly uses qualifiers, it quickly becomes clear that, in practice, the unqualified statement is much closer to his view.

Blankenhorn succeeds in showing that binding fathers and mothers to their biological children is a core purpose of marriage, and more power to him for that. But the logic of his argument is that binding fathers and mothers to their biological children is the only purpose that has any compelling claim on society, and that allowing marriage to serve any other purpose hurts children by pushing them to the sidelines. From a purpose to the purpose is a long leap, and one that leaves the public far behind. Blankenhorn himself cites a poll showing that 13 percent of Americans say "promot[ing] the happiness and wellbeing of the married individuals" is the "more important characteristic of a good marriage," and 10 percent choose "produces children who are well-adjusted and who will become good citizens," but three-quarters say: "The two are about equally important." In other words, the public believes that a good marriage is good for adults and good for children, and that there is no conflict. And the public is obviously right. Marriage has more than one essential public purpose. Providing a healthy and secure environment for the rearing of children (biological or adoptive) is certainly one of them (and, of course, many gay couples are raising children), but at least three others, in my view, compel respect: providing a transition to stable domestic life for young adults (especially men), providing a safe harbor for sex, and providing lifelong caregivers.

Still others can be found in a 2000 document called The Marriage Movement: A Statement of Principles. In a section headed "What Is Marriage?" the manifesto declares that "marriage has at least six important dimensions": it is a legal contract, a financial partnership, a sacred promise, a sexual union, a personal bond, and a family-making bond. "In all these ways," the statement continues, "marriage is a productive institution, not a consumer good."

That manifesto, as you may have guessed, was drafted, endorsed, and disseminated by David Blankenhorn, among others. The Blankenhorn of 2000 was right. Marriage multitasks. It is undoubtedly linked with procreation, but the reductionist Blankenhorn of 2007 gets the relationship backward: Marriage binds children to parents by conditioning procreation on marriage, not by conditioning marriage on procreation. We regard the marriage of infertile (say, elderly) couples as cause for celebration, not condemnation. And, of course, gay couples are just another variety of infertile couple. Even if their unions do not accomplish all the public purposes of marriage, three out of four-or five out of six-ain't chicken feed.

Blankenhorn, oddly, treats the objection that society values and encourages infertile straight marriages as no objection at all. His three flippant pages explaining why infertility would bar gay but not straight couples from matrimony are the only really embarrassing performance in his book. He says that allowing infertile straight couples to marry no more shows that marriage isn't for biological parenting than allowing non-drivers to buy cars shows that cars aren't for driving. He fails to note that marriage is more like a mobile home (some people drive them, some live in them, and some do both), that it is in fact legal for non-drivers to own cars, and that in any case gay couples are already out on the roads by the thousands. He says barring infertile straight couples would be impractical, as if that were the reason we don't do it. (And, actually, it would be pretty easy; in fact, a satirical Washington state initiative campaign proposes to do it.) Then, backing up, he acknowledges that practicality isn't the issue, only to tumble headlong into a baffling non sequitur by saying "there is no need!" (his emphasis) for a ban on infertile straight marriages because fertile couples will have babies anyway.

In the midst of those pratfalls, he looses this whopper: "Marriage's main purpose is to make sure that any child born has two responsible parents, a mother and a father who are committed to the child and committed to each other. To achieve this goal, it has never been necessary, and it would never be possible, for society to require that each and every married couple bear a child" (italics mine). Well, thanks. I rest my case.

A Choice of Cultures

Fortunately, Blankenhorn has a stronger argument to make-although in the end it lands him on the horns of another false dilemma. Setting aside the structure of marriage, he considers the structure of support for gay marriage. It is no coincidence, he says, that "people who professionally dislike marriage almost always favor gay marriage" (his italics). Marriage's opponents want to de-privilege marriage, replacing it with a "family diversity" model in which society and law view all family structures as equal and interchangeable. Such folks favor gay marriage, he argues, because they understand it as a step along their downhill path.

Blankenhorn here elides the fact that many egalitarian anti-marriage activists have expressed ambivalence or outright hostility toward same-sex marriage, precisely because they fear it would undercut their liberationist agenda. He also elides the fact that some of the country's most distinguished and dedicated marriage advocates support same-sex marriage: Paul Amato, William Doherty, William Galston, and Theodora Ooms, among others. He does not explain why a bunch of left-wingers who he and I would probably agree are wrong about almost everything else should be presumed right about same-sex marriage.

Still, Blankenhorn is making a deeper point, and one with an element of truth. He is saying that certain values go together in coherent bundles. If we could have the status quo plus gay marriage, he could live with that. But he thinks we will either get less than gay marriage or much more, because we must choose between two bundles of values, one that puts children at the center of marriage and another that gives primacy to adults. To clinch the point, Blankenhorn draws on two multinational public-opinion surveys. He considers eight questions about marriage, such as "Married people are happier," "People who want children should marry," and "Marriage is an outdated institution." Countries that recognize gay marriage, he finds, are consistently less likely to insist on the importance of marriage than are countries that do not recognize it.

Blankenhorn is saying that only one of these two cultural bundles can sustain marriage as a child-centered public institution. But it is the whole bundle, not just gay marriage, that determines marriage's fate. With exemplary integrity, Blankenhorn acknowledges as much. "To the degree that it makes any sense to oppose gay marriage, it makes sense only if one also opposes with equal clarity and intensity the other main trends pushing our society toward post-institutional marriage" (his italics). So the important question isn't only gay marriage, or even marriage. Just as important is what else is in these bundles.

Here is one clue. Countries in his data set that recognize same-sex marriage nationally are relatively few and are concentrated in Western Europe, plus Canada and South Africa. Countries that do not recognize same-sex unions, on the other hand, form a larger and more heterogeneous group, including a few Western countries, but also, for instance, Bangladesh, China, Egypt, Indonesia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Nigeria, Uganda, and Ukraine. It would certainly be surprising if the latter countries did not take a more traditional view of marriage-and very much else.

And so they do. Using data from the World Values Survey-the larger and, as we both agree, more representative of Blankenhorn's two sources-I looked at how countries with and without same-sex marriage felt on some matters other than marriage. As Blankenhorn points out, countries without same-sex marriage do indeed take more traditional attitudes toward marriage, parenthood, and divorce. But-prepare to be shocked-what correlates most starkly with the absence of gay marriage is intolerance of homosexuals. Meanwhile, people in countries with same-sex marriage are more supportive of teaching children to be independent and tolerant; they are more supportive of women's equality in work and politics; and they are less insistent that women must be mothers to be fulfilled. They are also more secular and are marginally more supportive of democracy. As it turns out, they also report higher satisfaction with life and feel they have more freedom of choice and control over their lives. If you had to live in a random country chosen from one of these two lists, which list would you choose? As a homosexual American, I can tell you my own answer, and not just because of gay marriage.

Blankenhorn has painted himself into a corner, one where the American public will never join him. If, as he insists, we cannot sustainably mix and match values and policies-combine adult individualism with devoted parenthood, for example, or conjoin same-sex marriage with measures to reduce divorce-then we must choose whether to move in the direction of the Netherlands or Saudi Arabia. I have no doubt which way the public would go. And should.

A Wiser Public

In fact, however, the public will reject the choice Blankenhorn offers as a false one; and, again, the public will be right. A look at Blankenhorn's own data shows that the publics of gay-marriage countries have not rejected marriage; on six out of the eight questions he uses as indicators, they agree with non-gay-marriage countries, just by less decisive margins. People in countries recognizing same-sex unions are more accepting of co-habitation and single parenthood than Blankenhorn and I would prefer; but their project is not to reject marriage, except perhaps on Blankenhorn's reductionist account of it, but to blend and balance it with other values of liberal individualism.

Blankenhorn may think this project futile. He is right to sound cautionary notes. But in recent years, as he points out, U.S. divorce rates have dropped a little and teen-pregnancy rates have dropped a lot, while "rates of marital happiness have stabilized and may be increasing." States are experimenting with reforms to strengthen marriage and reduce unnecessary divorce, and the proportion of African-American children living in two-parent, married-couple homes has stabilized or increased. Those modest but heartening improvements come at precisely the time when gay Americans in the millions-the ordinary folks, not the academicians-have discovered and embraced marriage and family after years of alienation from both.

Blankenhorn and I could argue all day about whether gay marriage is part of the solution or part of the problem. But I feel I have learned a couple of things recently. From giving all those speeches, I have learned that the public takes a more individualistic view of marriage than either Blankenhorn or I would prefer. From his new book, I've learned that the public's view of both marriage and society is nonetheless richer, wiser, and more humane than David Blankenhorn's-and possibly, for that matter, than my own. Which gives me hope that, whatever the experts say the real purpose of marriage is or is not, the public can ultimately get it right.

Carpenter vs. Blankenhorn.

Don't miss IGF contributor Dale Carpenter's critique of David Blankenhorn, over at the indispensable Volokh.com. Says Dale:

Blankenhorn's book is unusually well-written. And intellectual guilt-by-association has an easy appeal that may make his argument that these bad things all "go together" an anti-gay marriage mantra in the future. Like [Stanley] Kurtz's superficially frightening correlations, now largely ignored on both sides of the debate, Blankenhorn's argument has to be carefully unpacked to show how unsatisfying it is.

Dale's unpacking is masterly. And Blankenhorn's book, which I just finished, is the best piece of work that the anti-gay-marriage side has yet produced, containing much to admire despite its flaws. If nothing else, the Dale-David exchange shows how far the gay-marriage debate has come since the hysteria of only a few years ago.

Let States Lead

Mitt Romney, the former governor of Massachusetts and a 2008 Republican presidential candidate, is a thoughtful politician, for a politician. So it was not surprising to find him recently debating one of the country's core conundrums. It was a little surprising, though, to find him debating himself.

Romney believes abortion is wrong, but he thinks the decision on whether to allow it should be left to the states. In February, National Journal asked him if he favored a constitutional amendment banning abortion. No, he replied:

What I've indicated is that I am pro-life and that my hope is that the Supreme Court will give to the states … their own ability to make their own decisions with regard to their own abortion law … My view is not to impose a single federal rule on the entire nation, a one-size fits all approach, but instead allow states to make their own decisions in this regard.

Romney also believes gay marriage is wrong, but he thinks the decision on whether to allow it should not be left to the states. Last year, he poured scorn on Senator John McCain, who (like Romney) opposes gay marriage, but who (unlike Romney) opposes a U.S. constitutional amendment banning it. "Look," Romney said, "if somebody says they're in favor of gay marriage, I respect that view. If someone says-like I do-that I oppose same-sex marriage, I respect that view. But those who try and pretend to have it both ways, I find it to be disingenuous."

Taking the two quotations side by side, one could be excused for supposing Romney was trying to have it both ways. However, in fairness to him, now is not the first time Republicans have argued with themselves over moral federalism-or, what may be a better term, moral pluralism: leaving states free to go their separate ways when a national moral consensus is lacking.

In 1973, when the Supreme Court (in Roe v. Wade) declared abortion to be a constitutional right, conservatives were outraged. But what to do? Republicans were divided. Abortion opponents wanted the practice banned by a constitutional amendment, and supporters of Ronald Reagan soon took up the cause. Reagan, of course, was preparing a conservative primary challenge to the politically vulnerable and ideologically moderate Republican president, Gerald Ford-and Ford was in a bind, because his wife, Betty, had already endorsed Roe ("a great, great decision").

Ford's response was also to call for a constitutional amendment-but one that would return authority over abortion to the states, not impose a federal ban. In the end, Ford won the presidential nomination but lost the struggle within his party: The 1976 Republican platform called for "enactment of a constitutional amendment to restore protection of the right to life for unborn children."

The more things change, the more they stay the same: In this decade, Vice President Cheney-a Ford administration alumnus, as it happens-has called for the gay-marriage issue to be left to the states. But his party's cultural right has insisted on a national ban: not one gay marriage on U.S. soil! When President Bush sided with the right, he effectively cast the deciding vote, and moral pluralism lost.

Who was right, Cheney or Bush? Ford or Reagan? Romney or Romney? A priori, the answer isn't obvious, but the country has recently run, in effect, a laboratory experiment. On abortion, it went with a uniform national rule. On gay marriage, it has gone the other way.

Abortion started in the state legislatures, where it was sometimes contentious but hardly the stuff of a nationwide culture war. Neither party's national political platform had an abortion plank until 1976. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, some liberal-minded states began easing restrictive abortion laws. When the Supreme Court nationalized the issue, in 1973, it short-circuited a debate that was only just getting started.

By doing that, it moved abortion out of the realm of normal politics, which cuts deals and develops consensus, and into the realm of protest politics, which rejects compromise and fosters radicalism. Outraged abortion opponents mobilized; alarmed abortion-rights advocates countermobilized; the political parties migrated to extreme positions and entrenched themselves there; the Supreme Court became a punching bag; and abortion became an indigestible mass in the pit of the country's political stomach.

Gay marriage started out looking similarly intractable and inflammable. As with abortion, a few liberal states began breaking with tradition, thereby initiating a broader moral debate; and, as with abortion, purists on both extremes denounced the middle as unsustainable or intolerable, saying that gay marriage (like abortion) must be illegal (or legal) everywhere in order to be effectively illegal (or legal) anywhere. The purists got help when two important actors preemptively rejected compromise. The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ordered same-sex marriage in 2003, and then refused even to consider civil unions. That decision provoked President Bush's equally provocative endorsement of a constitutional ban on gay marriage. The battle lines appeared to have been drawn for a national culture war, waged by extremes of left and right over the heads of a marginalized center.

But the political system, and the public, refused to be hustled. Congress rejected a federal constitutional ban. The federal courts stayed out of the argument (and Bush's appointment of two conservative Supreme Court justices who look favorably on states' rights probably ensures that the Court will keep its distance). With the federal government standing aside, the states got busy. All but a handful passed bans on gay marriage. Several adopted civil unions instead of gay marriage. One, Massachusetts, is tussling over efforts to revoke gay marriage.

The result is a diversity of practice that mirrors the diversity of opinion. And gay marriage, not incidentally, is moving out of the realm of protest politics and into the realm of normal politics; in the 2006 elections, the issue was distinctly less inflammatory than two years earlier. It is also moving out of the courts. According to Carrie Evans, the state legislative director of the Human Rights Campaign (a gay-rights organization), most gay-marriage litigation has already passed through the judicial pipeline; only four states have cases under way, and few other plausible venues remain. "It's all going to shift to the state legislatures," she says. "The state and national groups will have to go there."

Barring the unexpected, then, same-sex marriage began in the courts and will wind up in the state legislatures and on state ballots: the abortion tape run backward. The issue will remain controversial, producing its share of flare-ups and fireworks; but it will become more tractable over time, as the country works its way toward a consensus. As a political issue, gay marriage will be around for years, but as a catalyst for culture war, it has already peaked.

Although I bow to no one in my support for gay marriage-society needs more marriages, not fewer, and gay couples need the protections and obligations of marriage, and gay individuals need the hope and promise of marriage-the last few years have provided a potent demonstration of the power of moral pluralism to act as a political shock absorber. Even moral absolutists-people who believe gay marriage is a basic human right or, for that matter, people who believe abortion is murder-should grudgingly support pluralism, because it makes the world safe for their moral activism by keeping the cultural peace. Someone should tell Mitt Romney. Maybe Mitt Romney could tell him.