June 26, 2006

  • Reason for Love...

    Watching the Couples Go By
    Why is this basic woman so valuable to this basic man whose arm she holds?
    By Herbert Stein
    Updated Thursday, June 22, 2006, at 7:26 AM ET

    One of my persistent fantasies used to be of sitting at a sidewalk table at a cafe in Paris. I would be writing with my pen (la plume de ma tante) in a notebook (un cahier)
    while smoking a Gauloise. I would not be writing economics. One cannot
    write economics while sitting at a sidewalk cafe. Maybe that is why
    there have been so few distinguished French economists. I would be
    writing a novel, or perhaps poetry, or even a philosophical treatise.
    But I would frequently raise my eyes to watch the girls (les filles) go by.

    I
    no longer have that fantasy. I do, however, eat from time to time at an
    outdoor table in front of a small restaurant on the street leading to
    the Kennedy Center. I don't try to write there. I can't write with la plume de ma tante.
    I am addicted to the word processor. I suppose I could use a laptop
    computer. But that mechanism would destroy the romantic illusion.
    Instead, I watch the passers-by.

    I
    am not concentrating on the girls. I am concentrating on the married
    couples. How do I know that those men and women walking two-by-two up
    to the Kennedy Center are married to each other? Well, 75 percent of
    all men between the ages of 30 and 75 are married, so if you see a man
    in that age group walking with a woman to the Kennedy Center—which is
    not exactly Club Med—it's a good bet that the two are married, and
    almost certainly to each other.

    I look particularly at the
    women in those couples. They are not glamorous. There are no Marlene
    Dietrichs, Marilyn Monroes, or Vivien Leighs among them. (It is a sign
    of my age that I can't think of the name of a single living glamorous
    movie actress.) Some of them are pretty, but many would be considered
    plain. Since they are on their way to the Kennedy Center, presumably to
    attend a play, an opera, or a concert, one may assume that they are
    somewhat above average in cultural literacy. But in other respects one
    must assume that they are, like most people, average.

    But to the
    man whose hand or arm she is holding, she is not "average." She is the
    whole world to him. They may argue occasionally, or even frequently. He
    may have an eye for the cute intern in his office. But that is
    superficial. Fundamentally, she is the most valuable thing in his life.

    Genesis
    says, "And the Lord God said: 'It is not good that the man should be
    alone; I will make him a help meet for him.' " And so, "made He a
    woman." It doesn't say that He made a pretty woman, or a witty woman, or an any-kind-of-adjective woman. He made the basic woman.

    Why
    is this basic woman so valuable to the man whose hand or arm she is
    holding as I see them making their way up to the Kennedy Center? I
    think there are three simple things.

    First, she is a warm body in
    bed. I don't refer to their sexual activity. That is important but too
    varied for me to generalize about. I refer to something that is, if
    possible, even more primitive. It is human contact.

    A baby crying
    in its crib doesn't want conversation or a gold ring. He wants to be
    picked up, held, and patted. Adults need that physical contact also.
    They need to cuddle together for warmth and comfort in an indifferent
    or cold world. At least, they need to be able to do that. The plain
    woman and plain man I am watching do that for each other.

    But
    conversation is also important. These couples may have been talking to
    each other for 30 years or more. You might think they have nothing left
    to say. But still they can talk to each other in ways that they cannot
    talk to anyone else. He can tell her of something good he has done, or
    something good that has happened to him, without fearing that she will
    think he is bragging. He can tell her of something bad that has
    happened without fearing that she will think he is complaining. He can
    tell her of the most trivial thing without fearing that she will think
    he is bothering her. He can count on her interest and understanding.

    The
    primary purpose of this conversation is not to convey any specific
    information. Its primary purpose is to say, "I am here and I know that
    you are here."

    Third, the woman serves the man's need to be
    needed. If no one needs you, what good are you, and what are you here
    for? Other people—employers, students, readers—may say that they need
    you. But it isn't true. In all such relationships you are replaceable
    at some price. But to this woman you are not replaceable at any price.
    And that gives you the self-esteem to go out and meet the world every
    day.

    So this "ordinary" woman—one like about 50 million others in
    America—has this great value to this man she is going to the theater
    with. He surely does not make a calculation—doesn't mark her to market.
    He probably never says how much he values her, to himself or to her.
    But he acts as if he knows it.

    Isee that I have written these
    views entirely from the point of view of the man. That is only natural
    for me. But I don't for a minute think that the relationship I have
    been trying to describe is one-sided. On the contrary, I am sure it is
    reciprocal.

    I can hear you saying: "How do you know all this? You
    are only an economist, practitioner of the dismal science. You aren't
    Ann Landers." That is all true. But my wife and I walked up that hill
    to the Kennedy Center many times.

    Herbert Stein was a contributor to Slate and
    author of the Dear Prudence advice column. He was chairman of the
    Council of Economic Advisers under Presidents Nixon and Ford and a
    member of the board of contributors at the     Wall Street Journal. He died in 1999.