The situation:
Bonnie and Clyde are arrested by a detective who knows that
they are famous bank robbers. The trouble is, he can’t prove it.
So the detective makes this ploy. He separates Bonnie and Clyde, putting them
in separate cells with no way to communicate with each other. The detective
then approaches each of them separately with this offer.
Betray your partner,
and I’ll see that you get only 1 year of prison time if your partner stays
loyal, and your partner will go to prison for a minimum of five years. If your
partner rats on you, but you stay loyal, then your partner gets one year and
you get five years minimum. If both of you rat on each other, then you will
both spend three years in prison each.
As Bonnie sits quietly in her cell, she weighs her options. “The
detective might be bluffing, which would mean that Clyde and I could go free if
we just stay loyal and don’t rat each other out. But If Clyde tells on me while
I stay loyal, then I get a minimum of five years. If I tell on Clyde I get either
one (1) year or three (3) years. But if I stay loyal, I get either none (0) or
five (5).”
On the other side of the station, Clyde is thinking the
exact same thing.
The situation is dire. Each of these partners in crime makes
their choice. No one is surprised when both partners betray each other, and
each serves a three year sentence.
Bonnie and Clyde both know that their partner is not
entirely trustworthy and will probably betray them. Because of this, each will
choose to betray (rather than be betrayed).
This situation is a thought experiment from game theory
called “The Prisoner’s Dilemma.” Game theory, which is the study of decision
making in strategic situations, operates on the assumption that people usually
act out of a desire to further their own rational self-interest. Game theory
provides the backbone of economics, national defense, and political theory.
The unsettling irony of this situation, however, is that
exactly by pursuing their rational self-interest, both Bonnie and Clyde have
wound up counting days in a cell.
This brings me to the subject of marriage. Marriage is a
partnership similar (hopefully without the crime) to Bonnie and Clyde’s in the
Prisoner’s Dilemma. Conflicts arise constantly in marriage which force both
partners to decide between their own rational self-interest (what they want)
and the needs of their spouse/marriage/family.
Commitment in marriage is like staying loyal in the Dilemma.
If both partners sacrifice their rational self-interest and personal wants,
then both receive the highest possible benefits. But if either spouse is in it
for their own happiness, the whole thing falls apart and everyone is miserable.
This has been made even more visible with no-fault divorce laws, but a marriage
does not need to end in divorce to be a failure.
This terrifies me, and I assume other rational, sane people
feel the same way. Personal commitment and self-sacrifice are not enough to
make a marriage work if only one partner is in the game. It takes both partners
willingly sacrificing themselves for the marriage to succeed, but it only takes
one to destroy it. You are at your spouse’s mercy, just as they are at yours.
However, as afraid as we may be, if we act on that fear,
then we have failed before we have even started. Marriage is an integral part
of human happiness, but if you go into marriage seeking your own happiness, you
are likely to lose it.
This is something worth thinking about. What quality could
be more important to find in a future spouse than loyalty? Forget the looks, or
even the people-skills. Loyalty is of supreme importance. In yourself, cultivate reliability and trustworthiness.
Meet your commitments, always.
Remember that for marriage to benefit personal happiness, it
cannot be about personal happiness. Laws and politics which speak of marriage as
a vehicle for personal fulfillment are missing the point.
Mathew 10: 39 "aHe that
findeth his life shall blose it:
and he that closeth hisdlife for
my sake shall find it."
KJV
