First published on May 15, 2004, in National
Journal.
In "The Pink Panther Strikes Again," when Peter Sellers'
Inspector Clouseau blunderingly demolishes a grand piano, a
horrified onlooker exclaims, "That's a priceless Steinway!" Replies
Clouseau: "Not anymore."
More than a few Americans now find themselves wondering whether
marriage is that piano. On May 17, the state of Massachusetts
begins issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, under orders
from the state's Supreme Court. For the first time, gay marriage
enjoys clear statewide legality. Voters will get the last word in a
statewide constitutional referendum, but the earliest that can
happen is in 2006.
In the United States and the rest of Western civilization,
marriage has always been between a man and a woman. As Clouseau
said: Not anymore.
More than two dozen other states are rushing to write
gay-marriage bans into their constitutions. Some of the bans are
inspired by panic, or by dislike of homosexuality. But even many
people of goodwill toward their gay and lesbian fellow citizens
blanch at redefining society's most basic institution. Gay
marriage, to them, seems risky.
They have a point. Gay marriage is risky. But not trying gay
marriage is riskier.
To many of its supporters, gay marriage is a civil-rights issue:
Marriage is a right, and every couple should have it. To many of
its opponents, gay marriage is a moral issue: Homosexuality is
wrong, and society should not condone it. Well, gay marriage is a
civil-rights issue and a moral issue, but it is also, perhaps most
importantly, a family policy issue. Right now, Americans are
deciding the shape of marriage - the basic legal and social
framework of family - for years to come. Risk, therefore, is just
as relevant as rights or as right and wrong. What, then, is the
balance of risks?
Begin with what we know for a fact: Something like 3 to 5
percent of the population - all gay and lesbian Americans - are
locked out of marriage, which is life's most stabilizing and
enriching institution. Even after accounting for differences
between the married and unmarried populations, married people are
healthier, happier, more prosperous, more secure; they even live
longer. To shut millions of Americans off from those benefits is to
inflict a very real harm.
Moreover, many same-sex couples are raising children: several
hundred thousand, at least, and possibly more (there are no firm
figures). Presumably, those children would be better off with
married parents.
So same-sex marriage would benefit gay people and the children
they are raising. That much meets with little dispute. But what
about the rest of society? Here the debate turns to what economists
call "externalities": harms or benefits to society at large that
flow from private decisions.
Opponents of same-sex marriage insist it will bring grave,
perhaps catastrophic, negative externalities that will hurt
millions of American families. They have yet to explain, however,
precisely how allowing same-sex couples to marry would damage
anyone else's marriage or family. More plausible is a second common
view, which is that same-sex marriage will have little or no impact
on straight families. No-fault divorce changed the terms of
marriage for heterosexual couples, which was plainly a big deal.
The only thing that same-sex marriage does, by contrast, is to
expand by a few percentage points the number of people who are
eligible to marry their partner.
Less often noticed is a third possibility: positive
externalities. Today, a third of all American children are born out
of wedlock, cohabitation is soaring, and nearly half of marriages
end in divorce. Marriage's problem is not that gay couples want to
get married but that straight couples don't want to get married or
don't manage to stay married. At long last, gay marriage provides
an opportunity to climb back up the slippery slope by reaffirming
marriage's status as a norm - not just as a right but as a rite,
the gold standard for committed relationships. Gay marriage
dramatically affirms that love, sex, and marriage go together -
that if you really care, you marry. No exclusions, no excuses.
So gay marriage entails potential social benefits as well as
potential risks, even apart from the unquestioned benefits for gay
couples. And there is a further element, as important as it is
overlooked. Banning gay marriage entails its own risks to marriage.
And those are not small risks.
Because society has an interest in seeing same-sex couples
settle down and look after one another, and because gay couples'
friends and family care about their well-being, committed gay
couples are winning increasing social support. One way or another,
legal support will follow. Banning gay marriage guarantees that the
country will busy itself creating gay-inclusive alternatives to
marriage (which will be tempting to heterosexuals) and bestowing
legal rights and social recognition on cohabitation (which is open
to heterosexuals by definition). The result will be to diminish
marriage's special status among a plethora of "lifestyle
alternatives" - the last thing marriage needs.
Moreover, the gay exclusion risks marginalizing marriage by
tainting it as discriminatory. A March Los Angeles Times poll finds
that more than 80 percent of young people (ages 18 to 29) favor
anti-discrimination protections for gay people. More than 70
percent believe gays should receive the same kinds of civil-rights
protections that are afforded to racial minorities and women. More
than half favor gay adoption, three-fourths believe that "a gay
person can be a good role model for a child," and more than 70
percent can "accept two men or two women living together like a
married couple." Seventy percent describe themselves as sympathetic
to the gay community (versus 43 percent of people 65 and older).
And three-fourths support gay marriage or civil unions - with the
plurality favoring marriage.
In other words, America's young are much more hostile to
discrimination than to gays or gay marriage. They will increasingly
view straights-only marriage the way their parents have come to
view men-only clubs: as marginal, anachronistic, even ridiculous.
This is not conjecture; it is already beginning. San Francisco
regarded its decision to marry gay couples as a protest against
discrimination, and Benton County, Ore., recently stopped issuing
marriage licenses altogether, on the grounds that it wanted no part
of a discriminatory institution.
"We are genuinely running the risk of making marriage uncool,"
Frank Furstenberg, a University of Pennsylvania sociologist, said
last month, in an
Associated Press article about straight couples who are
boycotting marriage to protest discrimination. Today, such couples
are rare. But in ten years? Twenty?
So there are risks, large risks, on both sides of the equation.
Banning same-sex marriage is no safe harbor. Given that fact, it is
irresponsible not to try gay marriage, at least if
protecting marriage is the goal. Banning same-sex marriage
nationally, as President Bush and many conservatives would do, is
hardly a conservative approach; it risks putting marriage on the
road to cultural irrelevance. On the other hand, national enactment
would be an irreversible leap into the unknown. There ought to be a
way to try same-sex marriage without betting the whole country one
way or the other. And there is. Try gay marriage in a state or two.
Say, Massachusetts.
Massachusetts is one of only a handful of states where gay
marriage can legally happen (most states have enacted pre-emptive
bans). Its law prohibits marrying out-of-state gay couples, so the
experiment will be local. Massachusetts is gay-friendly, allowing
same-sex marriage a fair trial. And it gives the final say to the
voters, not judges or politicians or bureaucrats. In short,
Massachusetts is the perfect laboratory for an experiment that
needs to happen.
Starting May 17, and probably for years to come, America will no
longer have a uniform national definition of marriage. That is
nobody's first choice. Conservatives wish the issue had never
arisen and hope, unrealistically, that a constitutional amendment
will put the cork back in the bottle. Many gay-marriage proponents
wish, just as unrealistically, that the courts could settle the
issue quickly by fiat.
But neither a constitutional amendment nor a Supreme Court order
could resolve what is, at bottom, a fundamental schism in the
social consensus: Older people see same-sex marriage as a
contradiction, and younger people see opposite-sex-only marriage as
discrimination. Reconciling marriage with homosexuality, equality,
and society's needs will be messy, but, as Robert Frost said, the
only way out is through. Massachusetts is as good a starting place
as the country could have hoped for.