Along with 2024 comes a significant anniversary. It’ll be 20 years since I got engaged.
And that round number has prompted my fiancée and I to finally finish the job and make our partnership legal in the new year.
We got engaged in a church tower on a Portuguese hillside, looking out over an unforgettable view of olive groves, Atlantic Ocean and Dutch football fans who had poured dye into the town’s fountain, piling into the orange water, singing and splashing loudly.
We were in Portugal for that year’s European Championships. Upon our return home, it quickly became clear that planning a wedding closely resembled the experience of watching Greece win that particular title. It’s tedious, unromantic, everyone’s got a view as it unfolds, and at the end you find yourself watching other people celebrating and having a good time.
We quickly decided it was too much hassle for too much money. And we’re not alone.
Cohabitation without any sort of legal framework is the fastest growing family set-up.
Recent research for family law organisation Resolution – campaigning for England to provide some legal rights to cohabiting couples, as Scotland has for some years now – found that around half of cohabitees have no plans to marry.
A third decided to spend the money on buying a house or starting a family instead. Surely that’s a more concrete sign of commitment than a single-use dress and a community hall full of sloshed relatives?
A third of those polled said they just don’t believe in marriage.
Like all the best research, I like it because it aligns with my outlook.
It’s almost as if you just can’t peel the patriarchy out
Those who make the case that marriage brings stability and rectitude are surely the same cohort who would advise wisely investing in property over wasting thousands of pounds on a beano.
And, whilst a good (or bad) wedding will provide lasting memories, my children have already returned a lifetime of good times.
Then there’s the very foundations of marriage itself. Those cohabitees who say they don’t believe in marriage are just the tip of the iceberg. Many – perhaps most – of the couples that do get married aren’t really sold on it.
The “love, honour and obey” line is all but obsolete. And rightly so. But it was there historically because control and agency are at the heart of the institution.
It was about consolidating resources – economic, political or biological. The idea of a father “giving his daughter away” ought to turn the stomach of anyone committed to equality (and that is most folk).
Couples bend the traditions to suit their style these days. Hymns have been replaced by saccharine pop songs, bible readings by banal poems.
I’m no great proponent of church music, but will anyone really still be singing Perfect by Ed Sheeran or All of Me by John Legend in 100 years’ time? And notice how the list of favourite wedding songs is dominated by male singers. (Let’s not ponder too long about what Robin Thicke’s controversial Blurred Lines is doing in there, but it’s probably not an aberration.) It’s almost as if you just can’t peel the patriarchy out of marriage.
Let this century be the one where marriage ends
The ultimate degradation of the whole shebang is Married at First Sight, the gaudy reality show in which two strangers are matched behind their backs and hitched without even meeting before the ceremony.
Marriage had a place and a propriety, perhaps, in medieval times, as a tool of security and primitive power dynamics. To see it degraded on TV so should unite those against it and previously pro in agreement that it ought to be allowed to wither. Let this century be the one where marriage and all its tacky emptiness ends.
That’s not to say there isn’t a place for commitment, for legal rights that protect both parties when the partnership inevitably ends after death parts them, and for love. Time, family, investment – they all represent those values more than some magic words from a minister or a council functionary.
When my partner and I ink the paperwork next year, it’ll be for a civil partnership rather than a marriage
Yet, the patriarchy and the state seem to always find a way. Where previously it was less hassle to stay unwed, we’ve reached an age where infirmity and inheritance hove into sight, and the path of least resistance now runs through the legalities of formalising our union.
Luckily, there’s a third way these days. When my partner and I ink the paperwork next year, it’ll be for a civil partnership rather than a marriage.
It has always been more meaningful and romantic for two people to bring equal economic and emotional collateral to the tale and the table, to make a genuine choice to be together, unhindered by traditional baggage or an institutionalised imbalance of power.
Historically, that’s not always been possible. In the 21st century, there’s no excuse.
James Millar is a political commentator, author and a former Westminster correspondent for The Sunday Post
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