More Than Two: A practical guide to ethical polyamory

by Eve Rickert

We don't learn how to be compassionate by disenfranchising other people; we learn how to be compassionate by practicing compassion.

We believe it's important to remember the ethical axiom: The people in the relationship are more important than the relationship. Sacrificing the happiness of human beings in the service of rules, rather than making rules that serve the needs of the people, takes us further away from joyful, fulfilling lives, not closer to them.

Anyone should be able to reopen discussions about an agreement at any time.

A good relationship is not something you have, it's something you do.

"Would I have become involved with my current partner if I were bound by these agreements at the start?"

"Don't ask, don't tell" relationships put outside lovers in an unenviable position too. Often such relationships include restrictions on calling a partner at home, and they almost always preclude visiting a partner at home, much less meeting the other partner to check on how this setup is sitting with him.

What needs am I trying to address with this agreement? Does the agreement offer a path to success? Does everyone affected by the agreement have the opportunity to be involved in setting its terms? How is the agreement negotiated, and under what circumstances can it be renegotiated? What happens if the agreement doesn't work for my partners, or my partners' partners? Do I feel like I need rules to feel safe? If so, will the rules actually keep me safe? Are my rules equally binding on everyone they affect, or do they create a double standard?

Um friend is sometimes used for casual lovers (as in, "He's my, um, friend").

If you are considering implementing a relationship hierarchy: How do I view potential new partners, both for myself and for my existing partners? Do I see them as potential problems to be managed? Or do I see them as potential sources of joy to enrich my partner's life? How does my approach to hierarchy reflect that view? Are there specific assets, commitments or people (such as children) I am seeking to protect with a hierarchy? Can I imagine other avenues for achieving that protection? Am I open to secondary relationships someday becoming primary relationships, given enough time and investment? What will I do if a secondary partner becomes dissatisfied with the rules that apply to them? Am I willing or able to involve that partner in renegotiations of those rules? If you are considering entering a hierarchy as a secondary partner: Do I clearly understand both the letter and the intent of the rules that will apply to my relationship? Am I comfortable maintaining a relationship within those rules? Am I comfortable with the reasons for the rules? Do I know whether the rules that apply to my relationship are subject to change? If so, who may change them, and how? What input will I have into those changes? Will the term secondary be applied to my relationship, and if so, do I understand how the primary couple is defining the word? Am I comfortable with the definition? Will it be possible for the secondary nature of my relationship to evolve into primary, if my partner and I d...

May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.

Vetoes are like nuclear weapons: they may keep others in line, but their use tends to forever alter the landscape.

We have both seen many couples who have executed a veto only to break up shortly thereafter. Any time we choose to break our partner's heart, the damage to our own relationship may be permanent.

When a partner of yours vetoes another partner, you actually do have a choice. You can either end the relationship that's being vetoed, or you can say "No, I refuse to accept this veto." But neither option is likely to lead anywhere constructive. If you say "No, I refuse to accept this," your partner who used the veto now has a choice to make: Stay in the relationship and sulk? Leave? Whatever choices each person makes, bitterness is pretty much guaranteed.

If you are the partner who might want to issue a veto, consider stating boundaries for yourself instead. You could say, "This situation is degrading my happiness to the point where I can no longer imagine being happy if it continues. If you keep going down this course, I won't be able to remain in this relationship." Indeed, it's an important part of consent: you always have the right to withdraw consent, for any reason. You never have to remain in a situation that hurts you.

So by having a veto in place, you stack the deck toward relationship problems, because so many experienced poly people with good skills will avoid you.

Veto is an indicator of low self-efficacy; it is a way of saying "I don't believe I can get my partner to listen to my concerns unless I have a kill switch."

If you need time to work through an issue, get used to a new partner or adjust to the idea, then agree to a time limit on it. If the time limit expires and you still want to say no, or if you want to renew the time limit, understand that you have crossed into pocket veto territory. That is not, in and of itself, a bad thing—provided you're okay with using a veto. But recognize that this is what you are doing.

Who do I think should have the final say in deciding whether a relationship ends? Why? What do I believe will happen if I ask a partner to end another relationship, and he or she says no? Why will that thing happen? Do I trust my partner to consider my needs and well-being in his decisions about whether to stay in a relationship that is hurting me? Why or why not? If not, what can I do to improve that trust? Do I trust my partner to make good decisions about whom she starts relationships with? Why or why not? What might the consequences be if she makes a poor decision, and how might I deal with those consequences? Do I use the word veto to describe something other than an ability to unilaterally end a partner's relationship—for example, when I give input to my partners about how I feel about their other relationships? If so, why? Is there something about the word that reassures me in a way that words like negotiation and input do not?

Am I prepared to bring someone I care about (or will come to care about) into a situation where I must dump them at someone else's will? Can I think of a way to make a new partner feel safe in a relationship with me under these conditions? Do I understand the needs my partner is seeking to meet by requesting veto, and have I considered alternative ways of meeting those needs?

If I start a relationship with someone who is already partnered, what kind of input do I feel it's reasonable for their other partners to have in our relationship? Do I feel safe opening my heart to someone who has given the power to end our relationship to someone else?

I've worked really hard to eliminate the words "have to" from my vocabulary. Because the reality is, I'm choosing to. I'm choosing to show up and meet my commitments.

People who are disempowered have little to lose by breaking the rules.

Some key defining elements of empowerment in a romantic relationship are: engaging and participating in the decision-making process for decisions that affect you having a full range of options available when decisions are made, not a simple yes or no option (or, in extreme cases, the "Accept it or leave" option) having agency over one's own body, relationships and life being able to express needs, opinions, desires and boundaries having access to the information that materially affects your relationship, person, safety or security being able to propose alternatives having the ability to object to, and open negotiations about, rules, agreements or structures of the relationship having the ability to give, withhold or withdraw consent It's no coincidence that many of these characteristics resemble some of the relationship rights.

A more rational take on equality might mean that everyone has equal power to choose how they run their lives.

Without a strong internal sense of security and worthiness, we will find it nearly impossible to be aware of our power in our romantic relationships. When we feel unworthy, we feel disconnected—even when our loved ones are craving connection with us. We feel isolated and alienated, even when we're surrounded by love and support.

Practice gratitude for all of the ways, large and small, your partner invests in your relationship. It will help you understand the value of the relationship to them.

A more effective way to prevent people from sitting on the wall, if that was really a problem, would have been to address the need rather than the action—say, by installing benches.

Why is it not okay with you if that person does that thing? Are the problems you see really problems? Is passing a rule actually an attempt to shift responsibility for your own emotions onto someone else? Does the person doing the thing reasonably have a right to do it? How much does it really affect others, and in what way? Are you just trying to avoid discomfort? If so, is your discomfort more important than someone else's choices?

If our relationships aren't creating happiness, what's the point?

Successful agreements address needs directly, rather than trying to address feelings about them.

loneliness. They are renegotiable. Any agreement should be open to discussion at any time by anyone it affects. This includes anyone who enters a relationship after an agreement is made.

Focus on mutual benefit. To succeed, an agreement must benefit everyone. Even when people have what seem to be contradictory goals, it may be possible to find a solution by looking for the need underneath a proposed rule.

Treat the other people in the negotiation as partners, not problems. It's easy to think, If only you would do what I say, everything would be okay! Why aren't you doing what I want? Remember that these people are not your adversaries; you all want happy relationships. Treat people with compassion.

We probably expect, reasonably, that if a rule takes us to an absurd destination, it should be revisited—and we can be shocked to be met with "No, sorry, you knew the rule when you signed on."

Rules-based systems judge your moral character based on your adherence to the rules. It's a contract that frames things as acts of betrayal and leaves the 'betrayer' buried under moral judgment.

When a couple agrees "If we run into trouble, we'll drop any other relationships to work on the problem," they treat their other partners as disposable things.

Honesty from the beginning would have saved everyone considerable grief.

The people in the relationship are more important than the relationship. If you find yourselves haggling over clauses in an agreement and whether they have been violated, rather than discussing the hurt feelings, the needs behind a partner's actions and ways to make amends, you've probably reached a place where the people are serving the rules, and not the other way around.

Good written agreements are instead reminders of our own boundaries or commitments. One very short contract we've seen contains elements such as "My partner is important," "Do your chores before going on a date," "Don't spend joint money on your own dates," and "Don't fuck it up."

Watch for the slippery words we talked about in the communication chapters. Respect is one of those words. You can hardly argue with it; when faced with a provision that says, "You must treat me and my other partners with respect," few would say, "Well, you know, I think I'd rather be disrespectful."

The best agreements are not ones that steer people away from bad things, but rather ones that point us toward good things. We both subscribe to the radical idea that the best way to create security in a relationship is to create happiness:

There is nothing noble in trying to preserve the status quo from things that can make our lives better.

Sometimes, game-changing events have nothing to do with romantic relationships. A promotion, a baby, a car accident, a job loss, a death in the family—all these can permanently and irrevocably alter our lives, and our relationships, in ways we can't predict.

The starting point to a happy poly life is the ability to say "Our relationships can change, and that is okay. My partner and I can still build things that will make us both happy even if they don't look quite the way they do now."

When considering an agreement: What is the purpose of this agreement? Does the agreement serve the purpose it is intended to serve? Is this agreement the only way to serve this purpose? What will happen if someone breaks the agreement? Do we have a path for re-establishing trust? Is everyone affected by the agreement at the table in negotiating it? Can the agreement be renegotiated? When renegotiating an agreement: Are the needs now the same as the needs when we agreed to this? Has this agreement been successful in meeting the needs it was intended to meet? Has anyone been harmed by this agreement? Is this agreement serving the people involved, or are the people serving it?

It will be a little messy, but embrace the mess. It will be complicated, but rejoice in the complications. It will not be anything like what you think it will be like, but surprises are good for you.

If one person is urging others to slow down, there must be a recognition that she needs to show she is making some progress toward being comfortable with things. Otherwise, "Move at the speed of the slowest person" turns into "Don't move at all." If "no movement" is a person's intent, they should say so up front.

We've seen a lot of policies in poly relationships designed to mitigate the effects of new relationship energy, but none that seem terribly successful. When it comes to people's brain chemistry, rules and agreements have a way of falling by the wayside.

When you're the one experiencing NRE, mindfulness is the only consistently successful strategy we've seen. Be aware that you're not in your right mind, that your perceptions are distorted, and that your judgment is impaired. Don't make life-altering decisions while intoxicated. Don't pledge your life to this marvelous person you met last week. Be aware that you will be predisposed to neglect your existing relationships, and try not to do that. Be willing to do a reality check.

After all, just because you love Eunice and you love Taj, and you can see yourself living with either or both of them, that doesn't necessarily mean Eunice and Taj can live with each other! Not everyone wants to live with even one lover.