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| Illustration by Sophie King |
Prejudice against sexual orientation is hardly a new phenomenon. While western tolerance has increased dramatically in the past fifty years, the concept of accepting lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people is still new enough to provoke storms of controversy, not least where relationships and families are concerned. Proposition 8 is a particularly recent example, wherein Californians voted to amend their constitution against gay marriage. Arriving on the same day as Barack Obama’s historic electoral victory, the decision proved a bitter pill for many, especially as the president-elect had previously spoken against the measure. Already, some groups are moving to reverse the verdict. Others plan to defend it, or replicate the effects elsewhere. It’s fair to say, in other words, that homosexuality in general and gay marriage in particular are topics on which few people remain ambivalent. Religion accounts for a large part of this – not all, it’s important to note, but certainly enough that ignoring it would leave a conspicuously-sized hole in any real discussion. That being said, trying to categorise the myriad for/against arguments purely in terms of their proximity (or lack thereof) to secularity presents its own minefield. At the simplest level, some gay couples are Christian (or Jewish, or Hindu, or Muslim) and some are atheists. Some are agnostic. Some are Buddhists. Some are right wing. Some lean left. Some don’t vote. Some do. And this is the point: that lumping millions of people together based on their sexuality produces just as diverse a cross-section of the global population as if you’d singled out all the guitarists or used car salesmen. It’s a facet of a person, not the whole; and to judge the entire person by one quality – and to summarily exclude such a wealth of people because of it – is petty indeed.
Of necessity, the issue of gay marriage is an argument in two parts: first, the entitlement of homosexual couples to share in the same legal, social and marital rights as their heterosexual counterparts; and secondly, their entitlement to adopt, conceive and raise children. It’s a mistake to view these as distinct points, because although the primary impetus to legalise gay marriage is one of basic liberties – the right to make medical decisions about a partner, for instance, or to receive joint pension benefits – the most common historical reason for marriage has been to produce children. This is not to say that marriage is defined by parenthood: it’s simply an acknowledgement of the fact that, socially, we view marriage as a stable framework suitable for raising kids, even though it’s no longer the only (or even best) option. Where adoption is concerned, however, marriage is often a necessity, further complicating the already strong bias against gay couples – a cruel irony, given that only heterosexual couples can so carelessly, cruelly or unluckily produce children they have no desire or means of raising, while many who would gladly become parents are, either through barrenness or sexual preference, unable to conceive naturally. Given the all-round shortage of adoptive parents, therefore, it makes little sense to disqualify any willing, loving and stable couple simply because of their sexual orientation.
And yet, from the language of those opposed to passing Proposition 8, it’s clear that homosexual marriage is considered dangerous – not just to heterosexual marriage, but to children. This is not an assertion of mine, but a boast of theirs, exemplifying the fear that granting rights to one group automatically diminishes them for another. Ignoring the question of religious beliefs, this seems a bit like arguing that granting women the vote will lessen its significance for men; which is (or rather, was) a polite way of saying that voting is a form of power, that said power is made more valuable the fewer people have access to it, and that it is therefore in the best interests of existing voters to deny suffrage to everyone else. Marriage is, I hasten to make clear, not solely about power, but in this context, the comparison remains valid. Voting was a political power, while black emancipation (to take another example) was both political and social. Gay marriage is different again: the mechanism by which it may be legalised is political, but the associated powers are social and moral. Knowing that, the hypothesis is explained and somewhat broadened: that homosexual couples should have the same social privileges, powers and rights, and the same moral validation, as heterosexual couples. Proposition 8 rejected this assertion.
Morally and socially, there is a strongly-held belief that children need two parents – one male, one female – to raise them properly; at the very least, even where other family structures might not be viewed as overtly detrimental, the traditional model tends to be seen as best. On the surface, it’s not unreasonable to suppose, as both sexes are required to produce children, that both are similarly required to raise them, and that marriage therefore provides the ideal child-rearing environment. However, this assumption ignores, among other things, that being heterosexual, regardless of whether one is married, single or in a de facto relationship, does not automatically make someone a good (or, for that matter, willing) parent. Heterosexual marriage is a good, biologically easy way to have kids, but as both divorce rates and child protection services can attest, evidentially, it doesn’t possess any inherent moral or social superiority.
Simply put, then, the case for gay marriage can be summed up with a single question. Which quality is more important to parenting and marriage: the emotional, intellectual and social desire to raise a family, coupled with genuine love for our partners, or the physical quality of gender? To quote the poet e. e. cummings:
“and being here imprisoned, tortured here
love everywhere exploding maims and blinds
(but surely does not forget, perish, sleep
cannot be photographed, measured; disdains
the trivial labelling of punctual brains…
-Who wields a poem huger than the grave?
from only Whom shall time no refuge keep
though all the weird worlds must be opened?
)love.
- Philippa Meadows (1 comments)