12

Veto arrangements

May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.

nelson mandela

The word veto is Latin for "I forbid." It refers to one person's power to prevent something from happening. In law—where the English use of the word comes from—a veto is something that happens at the end of a deliberative process. When we talk about "veto" in polyamorous relationships, we're talking about something very specific: the agreed-upon ability for one person to tell another "I want you to break up with your lover," and have the breakup happen.

Identifying a real veto situation can at times be tricky, because some people use the word veto to describe things that aren't veto by this definition. For instance, we often run into people who say, "We have the right to talk to our partner if one of her other relationships becomes a problem, discuss the problems we see and ask for resolutions, which might include changes up to and including ending the relationship." We prefer to call this sort of arrangement "good communication," not "veto." If you have something you call "veto" that looks like this, we are not talking about you.

A veto, for the purpose of this discussion, is a one-sided decision to halt a relationship between two other people. It is not a negotiation or a request. The key elements of a veto are that it is unilateral (that is, only one person needs to think there's a problem) and it is binding (that is, the person exercising a veto has reason to believe the other will obey it). A veto moves the locus of control away from the people in a particular relationship and gives it to a third party.

Veto arrangements are one of the most common, and most zealously guarded, of all the rules in hierarchical relationships. In our experience, most hierarchies include a veto arrangement, even when they include few of the other rules we've talked about. Vetoes promise the ultimate fallback: if a partner's relationship becomes too difficult, or their other lover is too unlikeable, or jealousy becomes too unbearable, veto can make the problem just go away.

Over the years, Franklin has received scores of emails from people who had their relationship ended by a veto. These stories varied in detail, but all had one common thread: the person who was vetoed felt that the veto was unfair.

The subject of veto is likely to generate controversy in any discussion about polyamory. Some people feel passionate about the value of veto. The word itself is powerful: it conjures up feelings of empowerment and control. Even people who don't have a veto according to our definition will often insist on using the word veto because the word itself creates such a compelling feeling of safety.

Veto of an existing relationship

For people who are subject to a veto but do not hold one—for example, the new partner of a person whose pre-existing partner has a veto—the word veto is just as powerful, but often it is powerfully negative. It creates an environment where no matter what you do or what kind of investment you make, your relationship can be ripped away at a moment's notice, without discussion or appeal. It summons an image of the sword of Damocles, always dangling over the relationship by a thread, ready to fall at any misstep. This creates an environment where it's nearly impossible to feel safe in that relationship.

We have both been affected by vetoes. Eve had a relationship vetoed by another person. Franklin has been vetoed and has also had someone veto a partner of his. Vetoes are like nuclear weapons: they may keep others in line, but their use tends to forever alter the landscape.

Franklin's Story For Celeste, veto was a security blanket, a way to stop relationships that threatened her position as the number-one person in my life.

She used that veto to end my relationship with Elaine. At the time, I had known Elaine for about five years and been in a relationship with her for about three. Our relationship was incredibly powerful and passionate. We were very well matched as partners, and our sexual connection was extraordinary. This was hard for Celeste to see; watching a long-term partner have an intense, passionate connection with someone else can be scary.

The day Celeste exercised her veto, I was driving to work with my partner Amber, who worked from the same office. Celeste called me to demand that I end my relationship with Elaine immediately and never contact her again.

As Celeste instructed, I called Elaine and broke up with her immediately. I was devastated. I remember pulling into the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant with Amber, unable to stop crying. I was so hurt and upset that I never made it to the office that afternoon. Amber wrote about that day: "I have never seen him break down like that, before or since. His body broke down into convulsions of crying. I don't think I've ever seen him in so much pain."

To this day, I still do not completely understand why Celeste made the choice she did. When she used the veto, I felt violated. I was angry, not just that she could veto a partner I'd been with so long, but that she could do it in a way that allowed no argument for or defense of my relationship with Elaine. My control over my own romantic life had been ripped away from me. Even though I had agreed to give Celeste this veto power, that didn't change the loss of control I felt when she used it.

That sense of violation and my feelings of anger seeped into my relationship with Celeste. None of the theoretical, abstract discussions we'd had about veto prepared me for the raw emotional impact of being told to end a relationship with someone I loved. I saw, for the first time, how damaging veto was, and I resolved not to allow this to happen again, to me or to any of my partners. I told Celeste that I would not accept another veto.

My relationship with Celeste never fully recovered from the veto. We divorced less than two years later. Many other factors were in play, as always in the disintegration of a decades-long relationship. But that veto was like an earthquake at sea, which initiated a tidal wave that would eventually consume everything Celeste and I had built together. pinstripe

Many hierarchical relationships have a veto provision that can be exercised at any time, even after another relationship has been well established. This kind of veto is popular because it seems to provide a safety switch to shut down a relationship that becomes too intense or threatening. But that sense of safety can carry a very high price. 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.

Eve's Story My relationship with Ray ended when his wife vetoed me, but it wasn't the veto that ended it. Ray and I had a long-distance relationship, and his wife and I had little contact. Ray and I had been involved for close to two years when he told me that I had been vetoed—several months earlier! He had continued to visit me, have sex with me and have almost daily contact with me, without his wife's knowledge. When I learned of this I told him I couldn't see him anymore. I am ashamed to say it took me nearly 24 hours to come to that decision.

It was painful enough that after two years with me, Ray wouldn't stand up to his wife to defend our relationship. But it was especially bad that I was put in the position of implementing the veto that Ray did not have the courage to either accept or refuse. Rather than take responsibility for the situation and stand up to either one of us, he chose to lie to us both. pinstripe

Even if your partner uses a veto, responsibility for the breakup is still yours. If your relationship has been vetoed, it's easy to say "I am ending this relationship because my partner made me do it." Franklin did this when Celeste used her veto. In reality, the ethical responsibility belonged only to him.

Screening veto

Not all vetoes work to cancel an existing relationship. Some people use what might be called a "screening veto." This means a potential new relationship may be vetoed before it becomes established, but not after. In a newspaper column in 2007, kink and polyamory writer Mistress Matisse described this as "starting the feedback before emotions and slippery bits get involved." A screening veto is safer than a post-relationship veto in that it is less likely to create a sense of violation. However, even this variety of veto can have damaging consequences.

Franklin's Story Meadow and I met a few years ago, under strange and complicated circumstances. We hit it off at once. We both felt drawn to each other, and soon after we met, we went on a date. It was one of the best first dates I've ever had. There wasn't anything unusual about the date itself—we sat in a restaurant and talked—but we both had an absolutely fantastic time, chatting about everything from movies to neurobiology. The chemistry between us was delightful.

After the date, I took her home and met her husband. We spoke briefly, and then I went home.

I emailed her the next day to let her know I'd had a delightful time and was looking forward to seeing her again. No response. I texted her a couple of days later, and again, no reply. Huh, I thought. I guess she didn't have as good a time as I thought.

Months later, I found out through mutual friends that Meadow had been so thrilled and excited by our date, and so giddy at the thought of dating me, that her husband vetoed me on the spot. What's more, he forbade her to ever speak to me again—even to tell me I'd been vetoed! I would never have found out if we hadn't had overlapping circles of friends. pinstripe

This veto experienced by Franklin seems to have come entirely from a place of fear and threat. It can be intimidating to see a partner excited about a new relationship, especially when we feel insecure ourselves. All the demons start whispering in our ears: "What if I'm not good enough? What if this person is more exciting than I am?"

A screening veto has problems because, like all vetoes, it tends to end conversations rather than start them. Had Meadow's husband chosen to talk about his feelings rather than using a veto, their relationship might have improved. But it can be hard to say "Wow, seeing you excited like this makes me feel insecure. Let's talk about what that means, and how we can work together to strengthen and support our relationship until what we have brings you this much joy." It's much easier to say "I don't want you to see him again."

While it's not as damaging to veto a person before a relationship begins, depriving a partner of a source of joy is still a dangerous thing to do. When we see a partner clearly excited about something and take that thing away, we risk undermining our partner's happiness, and that, too, is likely to damage our relationship.

It might be tempting to look at the examples above and call them abuses of veto, rather than situations where veto is useful and appropriate. We disagree. The problem is that nobody with veto power believes he uses it capriciously. We all tend to be the heroes of our own stories, acting on motives wise and pure. The problem with veto is not that some use it inappropriately; the problem is that it tends to cause damage no matter how it is used. And sometimes veto becomes a way to defend our own dysfunctions and entrench them.

You may hear the following idea in poly circles: that you should only add relationships that enhance your existing ones. Or that you should screen new partners to make sure their communication and relationship styles mesh with your existing relationship. That does seem like a good way to avoid drama and promote stability. But just as often, it can lead to enabling behaviors. You can easily end up constructing an echo chamber in your existing relationship where dysfunctional relationship patterns go unchallenged.

But what if we have reason to be concerned that the new person is disruptive, manipulative, a bad influence, emotionally unstable or dangerous to our partner? We've heard all these and more as reasons why someone "had to" use veto. After all, our beloved is all caught up in twitterpation, aglow with hormones, and can't think clearly. It's true, we all gloss over flaws in the flush of a new crush. Isn't it our partner's job to see with eyes unclouded when we are blinded? To see warning signs and tell us?

Well, yes, but there's no reason to imagine that the veto-wielding partner is any more objective than the twitterpated partner. After all, it's scary to watch your partner get distracted by the new shiny. And when you're scared, you don't make wise decisions either. Which isn't to say that the veto-wielding partner is always wrong and the infatuated partner is always right. There's just no particular reason to assume one is necessarily more "right" than the other. The only way through the swamp is to communicate openly about whatever concerns or misgivings you have, and then to let the person in the relationship be the one to make the decision. Because even if his choice of partner is a mistake, it is his mistake to make.

"Screening veto" agreements deprive us of our ability to make our own mistakes, and learn and grow from them. Early in Eve's relationship with Peter, they talked about using a veto as part of their transition from monogamy to polyamory. But after they discussed it for a while, they both agreed that a veto might reduce their opportunities to learn.

Eve's Story Peter has been in a relationship with Gwen for over five years. He started seeing her just a couple of months after he began his relationship with Clio, and while he was still traveling frequently to look after his mom. I was still adjusting to all the change and was completely unprepared for him to begin another new relationship. Moreover, I didn't like Gwen. When I met her, I had difficulty understanding her. I just had a gut feeling I didn't really like her, and I didn't feel like I was going to enjoy having her around. I told Peter so, but he continued to see Gwen.

If Peter and I had had a screening veto, I might have vetoed Gwen. And that would have been a huge mistake. Because in this case, Peter has proven to be a much better judge than I was of what will make him happy and what sort of person Gwen is. She has been an overwhelmingly positive addition to both our lives, and a stable, secure and supportive partner for Peter. I am immensely grateful not only for her presence in Peter's life, but for the agreement Peter and I made early on that we would not have the right to choose whom the other could become involved with. pinstripe

Ethical problems with veto

There's nothing wrong with trying to manage risk—we do it every time we put on a seatbelt. Managing risk through veto, though, raises serious ethical concerns. It violates both of our core ethical principles: The people in the relationship are more important than the relationship, and Don't treat people as things.

How does a veto treat people as things? A veto of an existing relationship makes a person expendable. It does not give her input into whether or not her own relationship is ended. While it's true that even in monogamous relationships the person being broken up with often doesn't get a say in the matter, the poly veto situation is unique. Here a third party who is not actually in the relationship is ending something that both of the people in it still want.

A veto arrangement also makes the relationship more important than the people in it, because it requires that a relationship be ended without consideration for whether it is healthy or beneficial to the people in it. Nor does it consider the harm that may be done to them by the veto.

It's true that when we have several relationships, some may cause pain in others. Despite raising the issues, despite ongoing negotiation, the pivot partner may choose to remain in a relationship that one of her partners thinks is harmful. 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.

Issues of power and risk come up. If you have veto power and you say "I cannot stay with you if you remain in this relationship," you know ahead of time that you will "win" this particular play. Your partner has promised you in advance—probably when his other partner was still hypothetical and not yet a real person—that if this scenario ever arose, he would "choose" you.

Because you're pretty sure what the outcome will be, the risk for you in enacting a veto is lowered. You can deliver an ultimatum and still not lose the relationship. You do not have to shoulder the risk and vulnerability of saying you are prepared to leave and really mean it. In other words, the consequences of your actions—and thus the bar you need to reach before you issue an ultimatum—are lowered for you, giving you more power and less incentive to act in good faith.

At the same time, all of that risk is unloaded onto the other partner. This shifting of risk—telling another person to bear both the normal risk that comes with any relationship plus extra risk shifted from the other relationship—is one of the things that makes vetoes unethical.

If, on the other hand, you do not have veto power, the outcome is not predetermined. There is a chance that your partner will not break up with his other partner. So you have to accept the vulnerability of telling your partner, "I can't take this anymore. I will have to leave if you continue that relationship." You have to be sure. It seems to us that if you're ready to take a step as serious as ending another person's intimate relationship, it's fair to ask that you put as much on the line as they have.

And then, without a veto, your partner has the opportunity to do what he believes will be best for him in the long run, what will bring him the most happiness—rather than having to make a choice he may not want to make because it was agreed to long before a third real human being was involved. The people in the relationship remain more important than the relationship. Including that third person. When the outcome is predetermined through a veto arrangement, she has no room to negotiate or to defend herself or her relationship. Maybe she even has a case for why she is a better partner for him than you are—and she should have the right to make that case.

Even if you have a strictly hierarchical, primary/secondary relationship, the ethical considerations of veto deserve some attention. Any relationship can end, for any number of reasons. Not all relationships last; that's a fact of life (see chapter 22). But even when the primary partner in a hierarchical relationship decides he needs his partner's secondary relationship to end, the ethical thing to do is to involve the secondary partner in the discussion and allow her to respond to concerns.

Practical problems with veto

Aside from ethical concerns, and aside from the pain and bitterness a veto may cause, veto arrangements present other practical problems you may not have thought of. For example, a veto arrangement that's justified by a bad past experience holds a bad actor's actions against a new person who never even knew him. Say your partner became involved with Bob last year, and Bob rained drama and chaos all over. If that makes you ask for veto, then when Charles comes along, you're making him pay for the sins of Bob. You are perpetuating Bob's drama.

Another problem is escalation. We can't, short of use of force, actually make a partner break up with someone else. When we use a veto, even a mutually agreed-upon veto, we are giving our partner a choice: break up with your other partner, or else. The "or else" part is often left unspecified; few veto negotiations include provisions for what might happen if the veto is ignored. But a veto can, in fact, be ignored. Then what?

Veto creates a trust imbalance. The new person is often told, "Trust us. We won't use this veto inappropriately." But what does this say to the new person? "I want you to trust that I won't veto you inappropriately, but we have a veto arrangement because we don't trust you." Is it reasonable to ask someone we don't trust to trust us?

On an even more pragmatic note, we observe that people who make the best partners in poly relationships—people who have experience with polyamory, have demonstrated good communication skills, are compassionate problem-solvers with good conflict-resolution skills, and have a high reputation in the community for these abilities—usually avoid anyone who has veto. 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. Both of us use "Do you have a veto agreement?" as a screening question with potential partners. If the answer is yes, it's a deal-breaker.

Alternatives to veto

People can become confused when talking about relationships without veto because they may have a mistaken notion that "no veto" means "no input." Some new partners can indeed be damaging or even dangerous, and it's important to be able to speak up when you see problems. Think about "right of consultation" as an alternative to "right of veto." You want conversation to open up, whereas a veto ends conversation. You need to be able to say, "I got a bad feeling from the way he treated you there at the bus stop," or "I went online and found he has a restraining order against him"—and have that not be perceived as a threat, but as useful information. Your partner needs to know you will go on to say, "So please be extra careful, and I'd like it if you could phone home often."

The most common justification we hear for veto power is that it's necessary to prevent a new partner from trying to break up the existing relationship. There certainly are people who will try to do this. They're common enough that the poly community has a name for them: "cowboys" (or "cowgirls"), because they ride up hoping to rope one out of the poly herd.

Unfortunately, veto treats all new partners as bad actors simply because some might be. And your partner isn't a delicate Grecian urn, an object to be stolen away by an enterprising burglar. Your partner is a person, and people can't be stolen. If some new shiny tries to "steal" him, he has to consent to being stolen. Veto or no veto, if he wants to stay with you, he will.

So the real question is not "How can I protect myself from cowboys?" The real question is, do you trust your partner to want to be with you, even if some cute young thing asks her to leave you? If someone says "run away with me," what do you think your partner will say?

Trust isn't something most of us are taught when growing up. The conventional fairy tale tells us to find true love and we'll be happy ever after. It doesn't mention trusting our partners even when we're afraid. It doesn't tell us how to assert good boundaries when faced with potentially disrupting relationships. Committing yourself to trusting that your partner wants to be with you, and will choose to be with you even if someone else tries to tug him away, takes courage. Asserting good boundaries around your partner's other partners takes work. But in the end, your partner is going to make the choices he makes whatever rules you put in place, so what other options do you really have?

Solid boundary-setting is another important tool in managing veto-free relationships (see chapter 9). Your partner may choose a partner you don't particularly like to be around. She may choose a partner who encourages her to make choices that hurt you. At these times, you need to be able to set clear guidelines about what you will and won't accept within your own relationship. You do not need to spend time with someone you don't like. If you feel uncomfortable or unsafe with a certain person in your home or your bed (or around your children), you have a right to (and should) set limits about who you will permit in your space.

Of course, your partner also has the right to choose a different living arrangement if your boundaries become unworkable for her.

If you expect certain standards of behavior—to be told the truth, for example, or to have plans reliably kept—that the other relationship is interfering with, you can express these expectations to your partner without managing the other relationship. And of course, if you are in a relationship without veto, it is especially important to respect the boundaries your partner sets around her body, her mind, her choices and her space with regard to your other partners, even when they inconvenience you.

Chapter 4 talked about the idea of self-efficacy—your belief in your own ability to make yourself heard and to positively affect your own situation. Veto can seem like a form of self-efficacy, but we believe self-efficacy lies in believing that if your partner's new relationship starts to go horribly wrong, you can talk about it and make yourself heard. 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."

The higher a person's self-efficacy, though, the less likely that person will enter a relationship with a veto provision in the first place. If you value the ability to have a say in your own relationships, you're unlikely to agree to give someone else ultimate authority over whether your relationship lives or dies.

We talk more about setting boundaries with your partners' other partners in chapter 23, on metamours, and about negotiating directly with your own partners in chapters 6 and 7.

Line-item vetoes and force of drama

Many people who don't have a formally negotiated veto arrangement come up with ways to veto their partners' relationships anyway. If you see patterns like this, it's time for you and your partner to talk. Like most ways of getting our way when direct negotiation has failed, these can be emotional blackmail.

First, there's the line-item veto. That's when, on a case-by-case basis, you restrict what your partner can do with her other partners and when. Eventually enough dates get canceled or interrupted, enough activities curtailed, that the relationship withers and dies. You don't have to demand that your partner end a relationship in order to make it end; you just have to starve it of the resources it needs to thrive.

Another form of veto-by-another-name is what Eve likes to call "force of drama." This is a weapon you can use when you don't want your partner to do something—like go on a date, continue a relationship or engage in a certain activity—but you have not been able to negotiate up front what you want. Your partner, after considering your input, has decided to make another choice: go on the date, continue the relationship, do that thing. But instead of accepting your partner's choice, you make sure that it carries a price. You have an emotional meltdown an hour before that date, and he has to stay home with you. You send him anxious text messages every five minutes whenever he's with the partner you don't like. You keep making nonspecific threats of disaster—emotional or physical—when he does what you don't want.

As damaging as this behavior is, we often unintentionally reinforce it when it happens. We want to be there for our partners, we don't want to hurt them, and most of us don't really like conflict. If her objection to that thing I wanted to do is so important to her, I don't really need to do it, right? That one date really isn't so important; I can schedule another one… The trouble is, people use this behavior because it works: it gets them what they want.

Some people object to the use of the word drama, on the grounds that it is used to minimize and dismiss. In the sense we are using it, however, "force of drama" has another name: emotional blackmail. If you recognize what we're describing, either in your own behavior or your partner's, you owe it to yourself and your partners to read the book Emotional Blackmail, listed in the resources.

Of course, we think we have really good reasons—every time we do it. None of us wants to believe that we're manipulating our partner, and we're very good at justifying our actions, even to ourselves. To the person conducting the line-item veto or wielding force of drama, every instance seems necessary and justified. And everyone is allowed the occasional freak-out, outburst or temper tantrum. But if this is happening on a regular basis—and if your partners are giving in to your demands simply to avoid dealing with your behavior—you may want to consider getting professional help to cope with your emotions.

If your partner exhibits this kind of behavior often, if most of your decisions she doesn't like involve you paying an emotional price, or if her drama continues more than a couple of months into a new relationship, then you have a problem—a potentially serious one, with no easy solution. The two of you will need to learn more appropriate negotiation techniques that do not involve emotional threats. Point out the behavior to her and explain the effect it is having on your relationships. Consider reading Emotional Blackmail together, and consider getting professional help from a poly-friendly counselor. If the behavior does not stop, you may need to consider ending the relationship.

Pocket vetoes

A "pocket veto" is when you stop your partner from doing something you don't want her to do, simply by doing nothing. In polyamory, this usually comes in the form of "I am afraid of X. Please don't do X until I stop being afraid."

Sara's Story An example of this involves Franklin's friend Sara. Sara was in a relationship with Owen, who was married to Kate. Sara started a new relationship with Mark. Kate told Sara that she didn't feel comfortable with Sara having sex with Mark until Kate knew him better, and requested a three-month waiting period for everyone to get to know each other before Sara and Mark had sex. Sara agreed, and three months passed—three very busy months, in which Kate never had time to get together with Mark. So at the end of the three months, Kate asked Sara to wait another three months, since Kate hadn't had time to "feel safe" with Mark. Sara and Kate were not even lovers; they simply shared a partner. pinstripe

We've known a few people who have been in relationships with monogamously inclined partners who agreed to a polyamorous relationship, but only after they "felt secure in the relationship." That turned out to be…never. Of course, if your reward for feeling secure is something you don't want, you don't have much incentive to ever feel secure. These relationships can last for years before ending. We know of at least one that has been going on for six years, the polyamorous partner still wistfully hopeful that someday his monogamous partner will "get there."

We have talked of being judicious about when you start new relationships: that perhaps it's better not to bring in new partners when an existing relationship is in crisis, just after a major life upheaval, or when serious mental health issues are erupting, to name a few. The trouble is that this idea of "poly readiness" can become a pocket veto if it does not include a clear statute of limitations. 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.

Questions to Ask Yourself

The questions around veto fall into three categories: those for people who want to have veto over their partners' relationships, those for people who are considering giving veto power to another, and those for people who are considering becoming involved with someone whose partner has a veto.

If you want your partner to give you veto power over his or her other relationships:

If you are considering giving your partner(s) veto:

If you are considering starting a relationship with someone whose partner has a veto: