Contact: Nicholas Johnson, njohnson@inav.net; Box 1876 Iowa City IA 52244; 319-337-5555.

How then do you explain our frustrating search for the right words to describe today's heterosexual relationships?

Oh, we have a language for marriage relationships that seems to be adequate enough. In fact, it's more than adequate. It totally dominates our vocabulary of relationships.

Marriage deserves a rich vocabulary. Even as an "option" for men and women, it's still the dominant choice for old and young alike. But its overpowering influence on the language of relationships seems excessive.

Everything is defined in terms of the married state. Before marriage, one is "single" -- that is, not married. Subsequently one may be "engaged" to be married to one's "fiance/e." Preliminary "engaged to be engaged" relationships, such as "going together," "going steady," or being "pinned" are consistent with this perception of the inevitability of marriage.

For those who have attained marriage, the vocabulary includes "husband" and "wife," and such colloquial but equally precise expressions as "better half," "old man," and "little lady." We even have an elaborate vocabulary for differentiating "in-laws."

There is an after marriage language. To say that individuals are "separated," "divorced" or "widowed" is to define their status in terms of the absence of marriage. We then create a language of "ex" or "former" marriage -- "my former husband," or "my ex-mother-in-law."

It is not the purpose of this article to analyze the reasons increasing numbers of men and women are unmarried. (There are now 52 million single adults.) Partly it's the 1947-57 baby boom; partly it's the high death rate (44% of the 16 million singles' households are occupied by widows). The divorce rate per thousand population has increased ten-fold from 1890 to 1980 (but seems to have leveled off) -- 26% of the singles' households are occupied by separated or divorced persons.

David Riesman says it's a form of narcissism -- "Something's missing and that is connectedness." The Bank of America sees singles as a "market." Economist Eric Thor: "It's a misconception to continue thinking of the traditional American unit as a family of four." The fact is that more and more Americans are single by choice, as well as by chance, and that sociologist Frank Ferstenberg probably states our confusion about the phenomenon most accurately: "Some view it as society's liberation -- and others as society's dissolution. It's a double-edged sword."

Whatever the causes and consequences may be, the fact is that the vocabulary of marriage is simply irrelevant for millions of Americans today, and that nothing has sprung up to take its place. To talk about an individual's status without reference to the language of marriage becomes difficult and ambiguous, if not ludicrous. We are left with words and phrases like "date," "lover," "couple," "colleague," "friend," "boy friend," "mate," "partner," "lady friend," "my man," or "roommates." The California Welfare Department's word is URAM (unrelated adult man). The Census Bureau's tongue twister is POSSLQ (person of the opposite sex sharing living quarters.) The Swedes have a word for "personal relationships including sexual intimacy" -- "samlevnadsundervisning." They seem to be managing all right with it, but it took us twenty years to feel comfortable with "ombudsman," and with a ratio of 22 letters to nine it would be the year 2030 before Americans would stop choking on "samlevnadsundervisning."

None of these words is quite adequate to convey reasonable expectations of behavior on the part of the man or woman involved -- let alone the behavior of others toward them. "Friend" can refer to anything from the equivalent of a spouse to someone met only moments before. "Roommate" can cover everything from a stranger sharing rent to an intimate friend sharing sex.

For a man and woman to share sex is a matter of great consequence in defining their relationship -- for them, and for others. But how it helps define it is not altogether clear, especially if one knows little about the sexual habits of the individuals involved. If they and their friends have tended to live with exclusive sexual ties over sustained periods of time it means one thing. If they participate in sex with multiple partners, or their sexual relations, while exclusive, are short-lived, the significance of sex in the "relationship" is a different matter.

Of course, sex is far from all there is to opposites relations. "Caring," "love," "companionship," "intellectual compatibility" and "shared interests" -- to name but a few factors -- are also important to others' evaluation of a relationship.

"Love and marriage," to borrow from the song of the same name, do not always "go together like a horse and carriage." Neither do sex and caring.

If Rose is having a tennis party it may make more sense to include Joe's steady tennis partner, Sue (with whom he has never had sex), than either his wife (from whom he has been separated for four months) or Dizzy (a current partner in bedlock whose most outstanding qualities are neither athletic nor intellectual).

Parents may well be more interested in their children's opposite sex friends, whom their kids really care about, than in their offspring's' casual sexual partners (if any).

Who really cares what labels we put on relationships?  What difference does it make?

For many purposes, of course, the relationship makes no difference.

When Vic introduces you to Terry at a cocktail party it makes little difference whether Terry's relationship to Vic is that of daughter, wife, colleague, lover, or someone he just met at the party a few minutes ago. You and your spouse can enjoy superficial conversation with the two of them, and quickly pass out of each other's lives forever.

Your waitress in a restaurant may be enjoying a mutually satisfactory incestuous relationship with the chef (her father) for all you know or care -- so long as the food is well prepared and served.

Even when there is a need to know, we can live and communicate without a precise vocabulary of relationships. We can gesture, ask questions, and use poetry and long descriptive paragraphs rather than individual, one-word labels -- and that's what we tend to do.

"How well do you know Betty?"

"We grew up in the same small town together -- but we're just really good
friends."

"I saw you and Tom together."

"Yeah, I work with him."

"Is that all?"

"Well, we like each other a lot, but I've never been to bed with him, if that's what you mean."

A general semanticist might take an academic interest in why a matter of such urgent import to so many people in our culture would go so long with such an obviously inadequate vocabulary. Whole new languages -- for computers or space travel, say -- seem to spring up rapidly and effortlessly elsewhere when needed. Why not here?

The practical difference it makes concerns the individuals involved; those who would like to establish relations (of whatever kind) with members of the opposite sex; and parents, friends and others who must deal with "couples" socially. The misunderstandings, hurt feelings, confusion and catastrophes are seemingly infinite.

No one wants to go around unnecessarily labeling people and then reacting to the labels. General semantics makes an effort to free us from such behavior. But all couples seem to search for some labeling of their relationships, to govern their expectations of others and themselves.

To preserve individuals' rights of privacy, most of the examples in this article use fictitious names, however much they may draw upon the experiences of friends. But the California Marvin case is firmly on the public record. Actor Lee Marvin and Michelle Triola lived together for six years without being married, and then went their separate ways. He had no expectations. She did. In this instance the absence of adequate labels (or contractual understandings) led to a $1.5 million misunderstanding and lawsuit.

Being "honest" may not always be adequate. The fact that one partner is totally open about his or her sex with additional individuals may simply not be heard or internalized by the other, who wants a monogamous relationship. To live for the moment, ask no questions, and let all encounters evolve as they will is a romantic but dangerous way of interacting. And it is a way that is inconsistent with some kinds of satisfactory relationships.

Tom and Liz are college students who enjoy each other's company, occasionally study or play tennis together, but do not have a sexual relationship. Tom thinks he wants Liz as his wife, but has not told her. He's shy, and his religious background is such that he's had only one or two sexual experiences. He is hesitant to approach Liz sexually. Liz likes Tom a lot, but hasn't the slightest interest in marrying anybody. She is very casual about her sexual relationships, and hasn't approached Tom sexually only because she now has as many lovers as she can handle.

How can one define this relationship -- except as "short lived"? Ultimately Tom and Liz will talk things over and either change their feelings and behavior or go their separate ways.

In this example, the difference made by our inadequate language of relationships affects only Tom and Liz -- so far.

But what of their acquaintances? Bill wants to date Liz, and have sex with her, but has no interest in marrying her. He has no reason to believe her relationship with Tom is "serious," having seen her with a number of other fellows. Will Tom be offended if Bill asks Liz for a date? If Tom learns Liz and Bill had sex together? Did Bill have any reasonable means of knowing Tom's probable reaction -- short of asking Tom directly?

Sue is having a party at her parents' summer home to which she is inviting couples who are engaged or "going together." She wants to invite Liz (whose sexual habits are unknown to Sue). She knows how Tom feels about Liz, but doesn't know they haven't slept together. Should she also invite Tom? Should she plan on putting them up in the same bedroom, or ask one (or both) first?

Tom's parents are on campus for a football game, and he introduces Liz to them for the first time. Later Tom's mother asks, "Just who is she, Tom? Someone serious?" How should Tom describe the relationship?

Children of single parents now constitute 20% of all American children. They have to deal with their parents' opposite sex friends, too. If they are living with their mother youngsters may welcome (or dread) the prospect of a new "Daddy" for Mother. And how are they to deal with Dad's women friends -- what one teenager refers to as his father's "girl of the week"?

Willa is recently separated. Michael, her young teenage son, is very protective. Jerry came over to work on Willa's car, and stayed for dinner. Afterwards, Michael wanted to know what was going on. "Who is Jerry?" he asked. All Willa could do was to try to explain how Jerry and Laverne love each other, that he was only being friendly and helpful with the car -- and hope that Michael would make the inference there was nothing to worry about.

What if Wally, who lives in New York with his wife Alice, spends weeks at a time on business in Chicago, where he enjoys a close, but non-sexual relationship with Beverly. Beverly is a former college classmate of Wally's whom Alice has only once met. Yvonne lives in Chicago. She knows Wally and both Alice and Beverly. Yvonne is planning a cocktail party in Chicago. She wants to invite Wally. Does she also invite Alice (who probably can't come), or Beverly (who can), or both, or neither? What word describes Beverly's relationship to Wally? How would your answers differ if (1) Beverly and Wally had had a sexual relationship before (but not after) Wally's marriage to Alice? (2) Only once or twice since Wally's marriage? (3) Repeatedly since the marriage, but clandestinely? (4) Repeatedly and openly?

From our own experience, that of our friends and fictional accounts, each of us knows of an almost infinite variety of heterosexual relationships.

• There are unmarried couples who live together with far more stability, happiness and sexual fidelity than married couples.

• There are individuals who seem almost totally consumed by brief, but intense, love affairs -- one after another.

• Some seek marriage and family life with grim determination. Others avoid it with an equal sense of purpose.

• Multiple sexual partners may be a natural and open way of life, or a clandestine maneuver requiring intricate logistics, duplicity and cunning.

• Some couples break up and get back together again with such regularity that their friends come to accept it.

• And, of course, anyone is capable of changing attitudes, practices, partners, and lifestyles at any time -- as a temporary aberration, a permanent substitution, or a gradual evolution to something else.

There is no comparable set of presumptions for relationships other than marriage, in large measure because those relationships have not even been named or defined.

Remember the line from the song, "You were only fooling, while I was falling in love"? Tom probably would be crushed if he knew of Liz's attitudes about sex and marriage. And yet neither is deliberately misleading the other. Tom just assumes, as a matter of course, that Liz probably wants to get married, that she evaluates men as potential husbands, and will have few if any sexual experiences before marriage. Liz assumes that Tom is just interested in good times, and has no more interest in marriage than she does.

There are, of course, instances of deliberate manipulation, misrepresentation and deceit. For some, interpersonal relations with members of the opposite sex are, almost by definition, a "game" between untrustworthy combatants -- in which one "scores" by obtaining sex through guile, or by teasingly obtaining sexual interest which is subsequently spurned.

A far more common experience, however, especially following the increased efforts towards "openness" since the 1960s, is unintentional misrepresentation .

The wedding ring is a marvelously efficient non-verbal definition. It says: "I'm married." Unless accompanied by outrageously flirtatious behavior, one can fairly safely assume the wearer wants to keep opposite sex relationships on a businesslike, or a friendly but superficial level.

One of the qualities of life without formal "marriage" ties -- a quality which makes it attractive to some, and unsettling to others -- is the excitement (or confusion) of any opposite sex encounter. Meeting a stranger on the street, at work or a party can be limited to a brief exchange, or expanded into a new acquaintance, friendship, brief "love affair," or a more long-lasting relationship. That's the practical version of the songwriter's romantic vision: "Some enchanted evening/ You will see a stranger/ Across a crowded room . . .."

If one is married and wearing a wedding band, opposite sex encounters begin with an unspoken introduction built upon thousands of years of definitions and expectations of behavior. If one is not, ambiguity is rampant. At what point is one obliged to strive to remove the ambiguity?

Ed meets Susie at a cocktail party. Now you can't go around a social gathering saying, "Hi-I'm-Susie-and-I'm-now-divorced-with-one child, -not-interested-in-getting-married-again, -not-yet-'going-with'-anyone-'serious'-and-am-open-to-seeing-if-you-and-I-are-compatible" -- although some come close.

If Susie's "partner" (whatever that may mean) is present at a party or other gathering he can be sought out and introduced by her -- but as what, and with what effect? Is "My friend, George" someone Susie works with, "dated" for the evening and is trying to ditch, or has been sharing an exclusive sexual relationship with for five months? Is Ed supposed to assume that Susie is being genuinely friendly by introducing George, or trying to give Ed a message that she's not available?

Assuming Susie is open to getting together for coffee or lunch, the subject of her "relationship" with George can be broached at that time. "Oh, we've just broken up," or, "George? He's one of the most delightful gays I know. We've been friends for years" clears the air.

But the couple themselves -- now, let us say, Ed and Susie -- need a vocabulary, level of reasonable expectations, and behavior code for their own relationship as well.

Assume Ed and Susie start sleeping together. At what point is Susie obliged to tell Ed that she's still in love with George and wants to "get back together" with him? Or that she has sex with Pete once or twice a month when he's in town? That she regularly has sex with more than one partner? That she only has sex with men she potentially could marry, Ed's only the third, and she's crazy in love with him?

Is Ed obliged to stop having lunch with an old girl friend? To tell Susie about her?

For the participants to stop repeatedly during the course of an evolving relationship to discuss it at length can be quite disruptive. It's like checking your yogurt culture while it's multiplying, pulling up a seedling tomato plant to examine the roots, or asking the coach after every few plays how the game is going.

On the other hand, to fail to discuss what's going on -- both within and outside the relationship -- can be equally disastrous. The matter of permanence, commitment, exclusivity, and the holding out of the relationship as that of a "couple" needs to be discussed, at least loosely agreed upon, and revisited periodically as it may evolve or regress. And this difficult task is in no way eased by the failure of our language to help us label and talk about it.

By now Susie and Ed have spent three of the last five nights together. They've had lunch twice during that time. He calls her every day, and sent flowers on their one month "anniversary." Yet Susie's miserable. Why? Ed still "sees" his old girlfriend, Helen.

"I thought you loved me."

"I do."

"I thought you were 'my man.' "

"I am."

"Then why do you see Helen?"

"Because we're friends."

Two years later Susie (and Susie's friends) think Ed is being somehow less than honorable because he's still not interested in getting married. Ed feels he's been very open about his disinclination to marriage in general and to marrying Susie in particular, and that he is being unfairly criticized.

Some couples in love, whether or not living together, and even though not "engaged to be married," are headed down a track that will likely end in marriage (so long as the relationship "works out"). Other couples -- with seemingly similar patterns of behavior -- are not. Yet we have no way to label this difference.

Why this failure in the evolution of our language?

In part, it's a matter of time. The need for a new vocabulary of relationships is fairly recent in the history of verbal evolution. We've heard of the yam-eating Indians with eighty or more words to describe their favorite varieties. What we don't know is how quickly those words developed. How long did the tribe struggle along with "yam" before someone undertook to make the language as diverse as the diet?

But much of the delay and resistance seems to me to be cultural, almost political. To label something is to recognize it, and thereby give it a measure of approval. It's like sending an Ambassador to China or legalizing marijuana. To come up with words for "couple-with-sex-exclusive," "couple-with-sex-non-exclusive," "one-of-pattern-of-'love-affairs,'" and so forth, is to risk social acceptability. It's a threat to the cultural acceptance and dominance of marriage, and to all who have made a commitment to that institution.

Finally, some of those who live other-than-marriage-track lives seem to enjoy the ambiguity of their verbal limbo. Part of their joy in an evolving relationship is that it is undefined. Definition carries commitment -- to something. Ambiguity does not. They may not know the other person well enough to label their feelings. They may prefer to let the relationship evolve into something better -- or break it off --  rather than backing themselves into the most accurate label for their current status ("an affair," "acquaintances"). They may want to avoid the Marvin problem of economic obligations. Loving and living arrangements may carry other economic or professional sanctions -- failure to get a job or a promotion. The recognition of a relationship may create family or social pressure to marriage (for want of an alternative label) -- married individuals Russell Baker has recognized as the "victims of a failure in English."

It is even possible that the failure to define or label our relationships is a form of semantic maturity. It may be an effort to avoid the realities as well as the overtones of dominance, or possessiveness, inherent in an expression like "my girl." It may be evidence of an awareness that we do need dates and indexes -- lover(1), is not lover(2), Ed and Susie (1975) is not Ed and Susie (1979). Every relationship between a man and a woman is unique, is known best only to them (and to them not very well), and changes over time. Whatever may be the dangers of operating without adequate labels, they may pale compared with the dangers of operating with them. A relationship is made up of actions, conversations, activities together, shared living quarters or other resources, feelings and emotions, shared background, friends, expectations, and so forth. Those can (and under some circumstances should) be verbalized. But the search for labels may be less useful than the creation of poetry and song.

So where is the pressure to change to come from? In the political arena, such an absence of constituent group support would lead most elected officials to conclude the problem can't be solved, the bill will never pass the legislative body.

There is no reason to believe the politics of semantics is any different. If so, we may continue to interact without a language of relationships for some time to come. And we may even be better for it.

Nicholas Johnson, FCC Commissioner 1966-73, and a Director of the ISGS, currently chairs the National Citizens Communications Lobby.