How’s your life,
generally? The reason I ask is that I get the feeling humans have a habit of
overestimating the value and quality of important things in life. I think this
is especially true when lots of options are on the table, and people only
choose infrequently. If you only buy one book per year, then you've chosen that
particular book over all the other available options, so I would guess that
you've overestimated the quality of that book, and that you'll probably enjoy
it less than you thought. If you buy and read three books per week, you'll find
lots of disappointing books but lots of pleasant surprises too - so the chances
of overestimating the quality of one book diminishes.
If you only had one
holiday abroad last year, the chances are you overestimated the quality of that
holiday. You had thousands of possible locations, and you chose that particular
one, which, again, means it is likely the destination you opted for after
weighing up all the possible destinations is the one you most
overestimated. Conversely, if you went
on a one week holiday every fortnight, you'd find your general overestimations
would lessen.
Continuing that logic, and
in reference to the last Blog on Iraq, I assume that those who were most keen
to mobilise our troops in Iraq were those who most overestimated the success
we'd have. We don't invade many countries, so when it comes to the ones we do
invade it's likely that we've done so because we've underestimated the number
or lives that would be lost, inflated our chances of success, and overestimated
the net value our invasion would bring.
How does this kind of
analysis reward us in considering the search for a beloved? Well, assuming that
the beloved you’ve chosen came about after proper consideration of many
alternatives, it is likely to be the case that you chose him or her because you
thought they would bring to your life the qualities and values you were hoping
to have. So, the chances are that for many people their relationships are not
living up to their expectations. Following the same logic as above, if you
chose one person to be your beloved amongst many alternatives, the chances are
your beloved is the one in whom you’ve put the highest hopes, which probably
means he or she is the person in your life that you’ve most overestimated.
Of course, that doesn’t
always apply – some people get together with low hopes and end up being pleasantly
surprised, while some settle for less than their optimum choice because of low confidence
or impatience, and others decide that the payoff of a relationship is worth
cutting short the lengthier search for their ideal partner.
But generally, I fancy
that big expectations tend to dwarf how those expectations play out in reality
– and logic would follow that this is true of relationships. It’s important to
understand what is being said here – this doesn’t mean they are bad, or that
they are not worth having, or that they are not often wonderful, or even that
you’re consciously aware of how those expectations are dwarfed - after all, we
humans are good at suppressing the overall disappointments and making the best
out of our life situations. What’s being said is merely that most people
overestimate more than they realise.
So, in the knowledge of
the tendency to overestimate, how best should single people search for a
beloved? First, we must recognise that finding love is a matter of probability.
When you were single, or if you are single, and hoping to settle down, you
have, in theory, the option of every single person of the opposite sex out
there. You want to know at which point in the dating game you should settle
down, how you know who the best one with whom to settle down is, and how many
people you will need to date to increase your chances of finding a really good
beloved.
Here’s another way of
asking the question; say you’ve got plenty of money, and you’ve had a Mercedes
for the past seven years and you found it to be reliable and good to drive. Should
you buy a newer Mercedes or should you try other cars? That all depends on a
variety of things; how many times you plan to have new cars, whether you want
to stick to what you know is good and reliable or whether you want to try other
cars. You may buy a BMW or a Lexus and find you regret not sticking with the
Mercedes, but then again you may find that the BMW is better all round and that
you wish you’d have tried it sooner.
The car analogy is a good
illustration for intrinsic choice and preference, but it is only a one way
illustration, because car buyers care a lot more about the car enjoyment than
sellers do – sellers largely only care about whether you’ve paid for the car. Given
that relationships are a two-way thing, a better analogy would be to consider a
landlord and tenant. A tenant wants to
find the optimum place to rent, and the landlord wants to find the best person
to whom he can rent his property. I
think this is a good analogy for the probabilistic nature of finding a beloved.
Suppose you are looking to
rent a place to live in the centre of London as you begin a new job. Your
criteria for the optimum place is as follows; the most decent property
available, as close to the centre as possible, in the nicest area, and within
your price range. In looking for that place, you know you have no chance of
viewing all the available properties in London, so you are shown around a few,
and at some point after assessing what is available you are going to have to
decide. You know that in deciding the chances are you haven’t got the best
property in that sample space. Had you
have kept looking for longer it is likely that a more preferable property would
come up. That would be a potential benefit, but all risks have potential costs
too – and you may end up regretting not taking the place that initially met
much of your criteria.
So, at the end of the
search, in finding a place you like that meets your needs, you want to sign all
the paperwork to ensure that your living arrangements are legally bound in a
contract. Now, of course, the landlord has a stake too – he owns the property,
he’s advertised it, shown a few people around, and he wants to ensure he gets
the best and most reliable tenant. He also knows that you probably are not the
best tenant in the sample space, but he too has to weigh up costs and benefits.
If he takes a liking to you, he may well decide to enter into a landlord/tenant
contract with you, rather than see it sit empty for weeks, or risk renting it
to greasy Gary who plays in a rock band, has lots of parties, and might wreck
the place.
The parallels should be
evident; the search for a beloved is like this – you are looking for a contract
of romance with someone – a tacit contract in which you invest yourself into
the life and future of a beloved, and he or she, you. Like the landlord and
tenant, you both know that your prospective beloved is probably not the best
person you could ever meet – there are others out there who will give you more
chemistry, pleasure, mental stimulation, laughs, fulfilment, security and
happiness. But you may never meet them – and in holding on in the hope of
meeting that ‘ideal‘ person you might strike gold, or you might end up wishing
you’d taken up the offer of Peter or Jenny with whom you went on those few
dates. Moreover, those who look for the maximally good partner (sometimes
called ‘the ideal husband/wife) may be setting themselves up for
disappointment. A maximally good partner for you is likely to be a maximally
good partner for many others too, so you might have to work hard to keep
yourself happy and secure in such a relationship.
You may also suspect that
the contemporary age seems like it presents different challenges to the past. The
causes behind the vast number of modern day break-ups and levels of
compatibility are diverse and complex – and too lengthy for this Blog post. But
the fact that contemporary people in the UK treat it more probabilistically is,
I think, a contributory factor. Here’s a simple picture; a man is in the
probability game searching for a beloved. He thinks he has a world full of
girls from which to choose – so he tends to opt for the best-looking, funniest,
smartest, nicest girl he thinks he can get. His search space is all about
probability and diminishing returns. If these are the main goals he has then
there can rarely be much security (particularly in this country’s post-cultural
revolution paradigm) because he may well find a new best-looking, funniest,
smartest, nicest girl – one who trumps the last one (this applies to the girl
in her search too). But the laws of probability suggest even when they are in a
relationship that throughout anyone’s life they will continually meet people
who score more highly on their proprietary rating system – so the probability
of the relationship surviving diminishes – hence the perennial insecurities one
sees all over the place.
I can tell you one thing
for certain; even when you do commit yourself to one beloved, you are going to
continually meet other people who are better looking, wittier, more
intelligent, kinder, more generous hearted and more emotionally astute than
your partner. But if one adopts the grass is greener approach then it is going
to be a lot tougher, because you will continually be making comparisons and
coming home discontent. This is a
prescription for uncertainty and discontentment – and I think one of the big
battles humans face is in learning to treasure the intrinsic rewards in isolation
from the allure of outside temptations. To constantly imagine better
alternatives will do you no good, because every step of your life will show you
better alternatives somewhere outside of your relationship.
There is, though, you’ll
recall, something about love that puts it on a step above searching for a place
to rent. However long you live in the place of your choice, you will never get
so emotionally attached to a property that other, better properties should not
be embraced. That is to say, a better property doesn’t stop being better just
because you happen to be in a contract situation whereby you’re renting one to
which you are less suited or less likely to be happy. Love, on the other hand,
when it is the real thing, is different, because you can, and are expected to,
get so emotionally attached to a beloved that other, intrinsically more
suitable partners, are not embraced romantically.
This is the power of love,
and the ability it has to unite two people against a backdrop of other (many
better) alternatives. What stops those alternatives seeming like genuine
alternatives is that feeling love for a beloved is a more powerful presence in
one’s life than any rational justifications towards alternatives. In love, we
find that better isn’t a more attractive alternative – better is the love
currently being enjoyed against the alternatives. That’s probably what Pascal
had in mind when he said – “The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows
nothing”. He was, after all, a mathematician, and consequently very proficient
at understanding probability.