The normalization of non-monogamy

There’s a reason stable civilizations have upheld monogamy for centuries. It wasn’t an accident or an oppressive religious dictate meant to restrict human freedom. It was a recognition that commitment, stability, and restraint are the foundation of functional societies. What, one might ask, is the alternative? Chaos, I argue—a return to the primal state, where short-term pleasure overshadows long-term responsibility.

Yet here we are, assured by peer-reviewed journals that non-monogamy is just as valid, if not superior, to traditional commitment. And as these noxious narratives take hold, so too does the practice itself.

As I write this, non-monogamous relationships are on the rise nationwide. Disturbingly, recent reports show that nearly one in five Americans has engaged in some form of consensual non-monogamy. In other words, what was once seen as fringe, even deviant, is now being sold as modern, enlightened, and entirely respectable.

A new meta-analysis by academics at the Australian Catholic University reassures us that polyamorous and “monogamish” relationships report comparable, and sometimes higher, levels of satisfaction. The “monogamy-superiority myth,” which refers to the long-standing belief that monogamous relationships offer the highest levels of fulfillment, stability, and trust, has been debunked. Or so we’re told.

Advocates for non-monogamy insist that lifelong commitment isn’t natural or necessary. Instead, it’s an outdated cultural script propped up by religion, tradition, and social pressure. According to these so-called experts, society has been deceived into believing that monogamy is the gold standard, and we would all be much happier juggling multiple partners for the rest of our lives. But, as anyone with a few neurons can acknowledge, this is little more than progressive activism masquerading as solid research. It’s the same tired game we’ve seen in countless other domains—twisting definitions, cherry-picking data, ignoring inconvenient realities, and presenting the results as undeniable truth.

What, I ask, does this study really prove? Nothing. Nothing of substance, anyway. It shows that some people identify as non-monogamous and feel good about their choices, at least in the moment. That’s about it. The study, along with numerous other studies on polyamorous-like ways of living, doesn’t tell us whether these relationships last, whether they promote deeper human connections, or whether they establish stable environments for children. It certainly doesn’t reveal whether they lead to personal fulfillment in the long run.

The study’s reliance on self-reported satisfaction is an obvious weakness. People lie, even to themselves. No one in an open relationship wants to admit they’re miserable. They’ve bought into a lifestyle that demands public justification. Admitting dissatisfaction means admitting failure. And when non-monogamous relationships inevitably collapse, their participants don’t stick around to be counted in the follow-up data. Survivorship bias ensures that only the “happy” ones remain in the sample pool. In other words, the image being presented is incredibly misleading.

Then there’s the issue of sampling bias. These studies overwhelmingly pull from Western, liberal, educated demographics, people already predisposed to view traditional monogamy as outdated. They do not reflect the general population. That’s because most people are not open to the idea of an open relationship, and for good reason.

The normalization of non-monogamy doesn’t just impact those who practice it. It reshapes culture itself. And not for the better.

When commitment is devalued, relationships become transactional. Sex ceases to be an expression of love and instead becomes another consumer good—swiped, scheduled, and discarded. The very concept of loyalty vanishes.

Why invest time, effort, and energy in one person to build something meaningful when instant gratification is always a possibility?

Like a lethal virus, this mentality infects everything. Marriage rates decline. Birth rates plummet. Children grow up in fractured, unstable homes. Men become increasingly isolated. Women—sold the lie that they can have it all—realize too late that there is no replacement for deep, sustained connection. Promiscuous women often struggle in life, facing high rates of depression and suicide. Yet, instead of recognizing the consequences, we are gaslit into thinking this is progress.

It’s not.

Setting aside emotional and societal decay, the physical consequences of non-monogamy are undeniable. Sexually transmitted infections skyrocket in environments where fidelity is nonexistent. Even in “ethically” non-monogamous circles, the supposed rules about communication and consent rarely hold up under close examination. People deceive and actively hide the truth. Boundaries blur. Relationships become breeding grounds for jealousy, manipulation, and betrayal. Polyamory’s proponents insist that their arrangements foster more trust, not less. This isn't credible. True trust comes from exclusivity, from the knowledge that someone has chosen you above all others. It does not come from never-ending negotiations over who gets to sleep with whom this week.

The key point here is that monogamy is not just about relationships. It’s about discipline. It’s about curbing base instincts for a greater good. It’s about accepting the fact that freedom without limits isn’t freedom at all—it’s all-out hedonism.

A society that values promiscuity over commitment is not thriving; it’s in decline. It is Icarus, not Daedalus—nosediving toward ruin, not building something that lasts, something that inspires.