Why Do We Marry?... Still!
Ever wonder why we're still putting rings on it when everything about love, sex, and relationships has completely changed?
In 1940, only 10% of brides got diamond rings. By 1990? 80%. We got played by marketing so hard we forgot what marriage was actually for...and it's way weirder than you think.
This isn't your typical relationship advice podcast. We're diving deep into 4,300 years of human relationship drama, from Mesopotamian business deals to modern dating apps, uncovering the beautiful contradictions that make us human.
Perfect for: Anyone who's ever questioned why we do the things we do, culture nerds, psychology geeks, people planning weddings, people avoiding weddings, and humans who enjoy having their assumptions demolished with research.
Warning: May cause you to see your next wedding invitation very differently. Contains traces of anthropology, dark humor, and uncomfortable truths about why we fall for expensive traditions.
Ready to question everything you thought you knew about marriage? Hit play and prepare to have your mind beautifully twisted.
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Roger, Charlie, we're ready to rock. In 1940, only 10% of first time brides were receiving diamond engagement rings. By 1990, that number had skyrocketed to 80%. So in less than 50 years, we collectively decided that a chunk of compressed carbon was suddenly essential to proving eternal love. Oh my God. Which raises the obvious question, if we can be manipulated into thinking rocks equal romance, what other matrimonial beliefs are we clinging to without even realizing it? Why do we still put a ring on it when literally everything about society, love and family has been turned upside down, shaken and reassembled like a confused IKEA bookshelf?
Like, comment and subscribe. We've got dating apps that treat human connection like ordering takeout, birth control that separated sex from babies, women who can own property and men who cry in public. Yeah, we're still following a script written when people thought the earth was flat. Yeah, I had to insert that. And washing your hands was apparently optional. I don't like you. I don't like you too. The contradiction of modern marriage, An ancient institution that refuses to die even though most of its original purposes have become as obsolete as that Nokia flip phone.
Let the games begin.
Let's get one thing straight from the start. Marriage wasn't invented by Hallmark. Evidence suggests the institution is at least 4300 years old, with the first recorded evidence of marriage ceremonies uniting a man and a woman dating back to approximately 2350 BC in ancient Mesopotamia.
And here's where it might shatter your romantic notions that these weren't candlelit ceremonies with string quartets, they were business transactions. Let's create some research contexts we can agree on before understanding the psychology. Or maybe just the psycho of it all.
Early marriage was the ancient world's equivalent of a corporate merger. 2 families sitting across from each other, not asking, do they make each other laugh? But how many goats is your daughter worth? And what's the property portfolio looking like? Marriage served as a mechanism for transmitting property status and roles, validating relationships within and between kin groups. And through these unions, alliances were forged, fostering social corporation and mitigating conflicts. Now, the anthropologist Claude Levy Strauss had a particularly brutal way of putting it.
He saw marriage as essentially legalized kidnapping with paperwork. His alliance theory suggested that marriage was fundamentally about men exchanging women like trading cards to create social bonds between groups. Romantic. Nope, That's just about as romantic as a tax audit. But but it worked. In agricultural societies, marriage was often a way to designate an heir to land, animals or other property or rights. If you owned a farm, you needed someone to inherit it. If you were a blacksmith, someone needed to learn the trade.
Marriage wasn't just about two people falling in love, if ever. It was more about economic survival and social stability. The perks were clear. Security in a world where starvation was a real concern with family alliances that could protect you when the neighboring village got aggressive social status that meant the difference between eating meat or being the meat, and legitimacy for children so they wouldn't spend their lives as social pariahs and gender roles. Well, they weren't depressive social constructs, They were survival strategies.
When physical strength determined whether you lived or died, and pregnancy lasted nine months regardless of your career ambitions, specialization kind of made sense. It was brutal, efficient, and absolutely nothing like what we call marriage today. This system was so ingrained that it created what Anthropol just call kinship obligations. You weren't just marrying a person, you are marrying into entire network of relationships, debts, and expectations that could span generations. Now let's Fast forward through the centuries and marriage starts getting, well, a little complicated.
The medieval period treated marriage like a business contract that was written in Latin but basically nobody could read. The Catholic Church muscled right in declaring it a sacrament translation We're in charge now, while nobles continued treating it like international diplomacy hump but with better food. Then the Renaissance happened, and then suddenly everyone had feelings about feelings. Poetry became a thing, art got sensual, and people started entertaining the radical notion that maybe you should actually like the person you're legally bound for for life.
Revolutionary stuff, kind of. But the real earthquake came with the Industrial revolution, when people started working in factories instead of family farms, when cities swallowed up villages, when cash became more important than cattle. Marriage had suddenly an identity crisis. The economic necessity started cracking, but the social expectation remained rock solid. Enter the 18th and 19th centuries, when romantic love crashed the party like an uninvited wedding guests who ends up giving the best speech.
Suddenly, novels were full of people marrying for passion instead of pastor rights. The idea that emotional compatibility might matter started creeping into wedding planning. Legal shifts followed the cultural ones. Divorce laws evolved from till death do us part, literally, because divorce was impossible to irreconcilable differences are apparently a thing. Women's rights movements meant wives could own property instead of being property, and sexual liberation meant you could test drive before buying.
Yeah, baby. And then came the symbolic revolution. This Is Us, y'all. The part where we get absolutely played by marketing geniuses. You see, in 1947 De Beers hired the New York based advertising agency NWAR and Son to create a marketing campaign that would promote diamonds as the ultimate symbol of love and commitment. Copywriter Francis Garrity scribbled 4 words at the end of a late night work session. Can you guess what it was? And still stupidly is, even with lab grown on the rise. Yep, a diamond is forever.
Diamonds are. Forever. Think about that for a second. A woman working late, probably underpaid and under credited. It was 1947. Wrote 4 words that would convince generations of people that love could only be proven through geological specimens in Japan. The Beers had to first introduce the concept of a diamond engagement ring all together as it wasn't part of traditional Japanese marriage customs. They literally exported and manufactured tradition and made it feel ancient, touch it, stroke it and undress it.
There was no prior tradition of diamond engagement rings. Engagement rings date back to Roman times and beyond, but only 10% of 1930s engagement rings contained diamonds. De Beers took a struggling post depression diamond market and turned it into an emotional necessity. They did not just sell jewelry, they sold the idea that without their product, your love was somehow insufficient. The wedding industry followed suit. What started as community gatherings became destination extravaganzas. Pinterest boards replaced prayer books.
The average wedding cost ballooned from what we can afford to what will make good photos. We turn marriage ceremonies into performance art where the performance budget often exceeds the participants annual salary. Diamonds. And here's the cultural mind fuck. We simultaneously made marriage more emotional. Him. Well, hell, more commercial. We demanded authentic love and authentic diamonds. We wanted traditional values and progressive gender roles. We created an institution that's supposed to be both timelessly sacred and somehow constantly evolving.
And somehow, somewhere in the middle of this chaos, with divorce rates fluctuating like mad cow disease, gender roles in flux and economic systems changing and social media turning everyone's relationship into a public exhibition, marriage not only survived, dude, it thrived. Very nice. Fast forward to 2025, and marriage has become the world's most expensive participation trophy. You get a certificate, a tax break, and the legal right to make medical decisions when your spouse is too unconscious to argue about them.
Now let's talk perks, because modern marriage comes loaded with them. The estate tax marital deduction means any property that passes to your spouse when you die is exempt from federal estate tax. You can transfer assets to your spouse at any time, in any moment, tax free. That's not romantic love. That's advanced financial planning with feelings attached. Health insurance becomes a family plan. Hospital visitation rights become automatic. You get to decide whether a deceased partner will be be cremated and where to bury them.
Adoption and parental rights get streamlined. It's like joining a very exclusive club where the membership dues are till death do us part and the benefits package rivals most corporate jobs. But now here's what's fascinating. You see, the psychological birds will They've evolved too. Marriage still signals stability, but now it's emotional stability rather than economic survival. It's social recognition. But in instead of village approval, it's LinkedIn relationship status and joint mortgage applications.
It screams commitment in a world where ghosting someone is considered acceptable communication today. Yet here's the contradiction that should make your head spin. You see, children born outside marriage are not bastards anymore. Cohabitation has become so normalized, the couples who choose to cohabitate without getting married can also be socially monogamous. Basically, you can have kids, buy houses, build entire lives together without a single piece of government paperwork. The stigma evaporated, but somehow the institution persisted.
Why? Well, because we've turned marriage into something else entirely, A voluntary performance. Performance of permanence in a very, very disposable culture. What the hell are you talking about? Now, here's where it gets deliciously cynical. While we were busy evolving marriage into an emotional choice rather than economic necessity, marketers were busy turning it into a consumer category. Tiffany and Co, Anyone out there remember the blue box? It did not just sell rings. They sold the concept that luxury equals love.
They positioned those little blue boxes symbols of worthiness, creating a psychological equation where the price of the ring somehow correlates with the depth of feeling. It's really brilliant marketing disguised as romance. The modern wedding industrial complex makes the beers look like amateur hour. Now we're talking about an industry that convinces people to spend the equivalent of a down payment. A car down payment on a single day. The average wedding cost in 2024 hit $35,000. That's more than many people's annual salary spent on what amounts to an elaborate dinner party where everyone has to dress up and pretend your uncle's speech was funny.
Now, social media media amplified this exponentially. Weddings became content creation opportunities. Instagram turned every ceremony into a branded experience where the hashtag matters as much as the vows, and Pinterest boards replaced prayer books. The pressure isn't just social anymore. It's algorithmic. Think about the absurdity. We've created a culture where people go into debt to prove their love, where the quality of the party somehow reflects the authenticity of the commitment. We've commodified one of humanity's most basic emotional needs and convinced ourselves that spending more money makes it more real.
But here's the thing. It worked. You see, we participated willingly. We not only accepted the premise that love requires luxury consumption, we embraced it, we shared it, and we turned it into content. So why do we still fall for it? Why does marriage persist even when cohabitation works just fine, when divorce is incredibly common, and when the economic incentives have largely disappeared? I'll tell you why. You see, humans are ritual seeking creatures living in a ritual starved world. Marriage provides what psychologists call temporal landmarks, moments that help us organize our life story into meaningful chapters.
It's not just about the person, it's actually about the narrative structure. There's you, there's him, and there's marriage. Marriage functions as a cultural archetype, a story we continue to play out because it gives shape to chaos. It's the promise that randomness has meaning, that commitment can triumph over entropy, that two people can choose each other repeatedly in a world full of incredible options. But let's be brutally honest about the cognitive biases at play. Sunk cost fallacy kicks in the moment you start planning.
You've already invested so much emotional financial capital that backing out feels kind of wasteful. Social conformity pressure is real. Try explaining to your grandmother why you don't need marriage when you're clearly committed. Fear of missing out on societal milestones creates anxiety that maybe you're doing life wrong. There's also what anthropologists call costly signaling. Marriage is an expensive public demonstration of commitment precisely because it's so hard to fake. Anyone can say they love someone.
Not everyone will legally bind themselves, throw a party, and invite both sets of parents to witness it. The ritual itself serves A psychological function. Weddings force us to articulate our values publicly, to define what we believe about love and commitment in front of everyone who matters to us. That's not marketing manipulation that that's meaning making. See, here's what's beautiful about it. Even knowing all this, even understanding the marketing mechanics and psychological manipulation, people still choose marriage.
They choose it with full awareness of the divorce statistics, full knowledge of the alternatives, and full understanding that it's partially manufactured necessity. That suggests marriage has evolved into something genuinely different. Not economic survival, though it may seem like it, or social requirement, but voluntary vulnerability. It is a choice to be legally, emotionally, and financially entangled with another human being simply because the story feels worth telling. Now let's push back a little on this romantic notion.
Is marriage actually necessary or just a cultural artifact we can't shake? I want you to look at the Nah people of southern China. They don't have marriage, but they have a matrilineal society without recognized bonds equivalent to marriage. They practiced serial monogamy, and in the past simultaneously, having multiple romantic partners was the norm. Their society functions perfectly well with what they call walking marriages, where women choose their partners throughout their lifetime, don't cohabitate with them, and raise children in their own homes where uncles play significant roles.
Group marriage has been practiced by some cultures of Polynesia, Asia, Papua New Guinea and the Americas, with all members considered married to all other members and sharing parental responsibility for any children. These aren't failed societies, they're alternative solutions to the same human needs marriage addresses. Modern polyamory and ethical non monogamy communities are essentially running real time experiments in relationship structures proving that commitment, love and family can exist outside tradition marriage frameworks.
So why do we cling to the specific model when alternatives work just as well? Maybe because marriage isn't really about efficiency, it's about a story. We're not optimizing for the best relationship structure, we're participating in a shared cultural narrative that gives our individual choices meaning within a larger framework. Or maybe we're just really, really, really good at talking ourselves into expensive traditions. Either way, the next time someone asks you why people still get married, remind them we're the same species that convinced ourselves rocks prove love.
The question isn't why we still marry, it's why we expect our relationship choices to make any rational sense. So here we are after diving through 4300 years of human relationship drama, and I'm left with one burning question. Is marriage about love, law, ritual, or marketing? You see the plot twist? It's all of them having a messy threesome with our psychology.
Think about it. We just spent 20 minutes on packing. How we got convinced that compressed carbon equals commitment, how we turned ancient livestock trading into Instagram content, and how we're willingly paying mortgage money to throw elaborate dinner parties where everyone pretends you're drunk uncle is charming and most likely go back home criticizing the waiter that had a tilted bow tie. And yet. Here's the beautiful irony of it all. Knowing all this doesn't make marriage any less appealing. If anything, it makes it more fascinating.
We're literally the only species that looked at practical survival mechanisms and said, you know what? This needs more feelings and better flowers.
Maybe that's exactly why we keep doing it. In your dating lifetime, you will get ghosted via emoji and your job, especially now, can disappear overnight. Promising forever is basically giving reality the finger. It's saying, I know everything is temporary, but watch me bent my entire future on this one person anyway. That's not necessarily naive. It's also rock'n'roll.
So the next time you're at a wedding watching two people exchange overpriced rings while someone's Aunt Life streams the whole thing, remember you're not just witnessing someone's special day, you're watching humanity's longest running middle finger to chaos, complete with an open bar and questionable DJ choices. We're still making this whole thing up as we go. The only difference is now we've got better sound systems and professional photographers to document artistic disasters. Maybe choosing to promise forever when everything else has an expiration date isn't the most logical thing we do, but it might just be the most human thing we'll ever experience.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Until next time, stay curious, stay hopeful, and may your union lead you closer to who you are meant to be. I love you Mom. Somebody just followed me. This is the most unusual practice. Rethink what you think you know with Charlie. Unusual Practice with host Charlie explores cultural healing through hidden histories, unconventional ideas, and fresh perspectives that challenge the way we think. In each concise episode, deep insights unfold in minutes, transforming years of wisdom into sharp takeaways you can carry into everyday conversations.
It's not just about knowledge. It's about restoring how we connect with each other, with our past, and with the world around us. Unusual Practice designed to spark dialogue that heals as much as it provokes.
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