Spotted a link to this Dear Prudence chat (via Chaos Theory), wherein:
I have recently found out from a very good friend of mine that she has herpes. She’s had it for many years. She is sexually active, and very attractive. She has a history of many relationships.
The problem is that she does not tell her boyfriends that she has herpes.
Following the above quote in the original article are some of the writer’s friend’s rationalizations, which probably deserve to be deconstructed, but that’s not what I’m after, here.
(Although, if you do have herpes and you’re looking for romance, you may want to consider one of the many STD-oriented dating sites out there. Just sayin’. Moving on, now.)
I think that most of us understand the kind of mentality that leads to the behavior of someone like the above-quoted-writer’s friend, even if we’re initially shocked by it. However, even though we recognize the type of thinking that allows people to act in this way, I’m not sure that we talk about it much. Since this is such an stark example, maybe we should take the time.
So, let’s talk about herpes for a minute.
There are lots of ways to cope with the realization that you have herpes. You could take responsibility for your choices, go on medication, inform your sexual partners, and take precautions to avoid transmission. A less ideal response would be to feel unfit for human contact, unworthy of love, as though you were some filthy troll whose genitals are full of poison. You can find yourself too afraid to level with your partners about your incurable STD, and too responsible to sleep with anyone you haven’t warned about it, which could leave you depressed, lonely and frustrated, your once-healthy sex life shot to hell. It’s an awful way to live, because no one should have to feel that way, and herpes-sufferers don’t deserve to be judged, or stigmatized, or otherwise made to feel like shit.
Still and all, both of those responses are just a big bag of no fun and, unfortunately, some people can’t deal with the complex questions surrounding responsibility and informed consent. But, if your delusion-manufacturing system is in high-gear, you don’t have to deal with any of that. Why not just go on the way you’ve always done, and hope for the best? Things will probably be okay, right?
It’s not simply about being cavalier with other human being’s lives—though, for some people (we call them sociopaths) that’s certainly a factor. But most people are capable of remorse, guilt, and empathy, which tends to engender a sense of responsibility. And that’s where delusion and rationalization come in to play—they reduce the dissonance between our ethics and our actions. They allow an otherwise ethical person to accomplish feats that might seem monstrous to outsiders, even if they seem totally fine to the perpetrator. Because a rationalization is sort of like bad handwriting: It’s easier to understand if it’s your own.
Someone who has herpes and decides to keep it a secret from his or her partners might seem like an irresponsible menace, to most people. But Patient Zero doesn’t look at it that way, because that point of view would require them to accept that they are a bad person, which most people tend to avoid.
So: They say it’s no big deal, that lots of people have herpes; and, anyway, if that other person they had a one night stand with tends to sleep with a lot of strangers anyway, well then he or she probably already had herpes to begin with. And anyway, people who are sexually active are going to get herpes eventually, right? Besides, even if they do get herpes it’s not like AIDS or anything; having herpes isn’t a death sentence, just a minor inconvenience. So: I’m not a bad person, don’t you see?
Those arguments might seem utterly laughable, but they’re all absolutely real justifications I’ve heard from people. Often, they’ve been good, kind, caring people in every other respect. They’re not out to fuck people over, though they invariably do; they’re not monsters.
Evil they may not be, but they are deluded a tiny bit. They are avoiding the responsibility for the fact that their silence leads to the very real possibility that they are giving another human being an unnecessary, probably unwanted, chronic health issue that they didn’t have to have. They are taking away their partner’s choice to not have herpes. They can rationalize as hard as they like, but that’s the facts.
This line of reasoning doesn’t just apply to herpes. There’s a whole host of delusions that keep us from taking responsibility for behaviors that might negatively impact others. This is a common trait of the human condition.
Perhaps I drive too recklessly, even when it might endanger my passengers or other motorists. Maybe that lady smokes like a chimney, even though she’s pregnant. It’s possible that one guy likes to sit at home and get drunk, even though he tends to get violent when does. Maybe that other guy who works for an insurance company denies a child’s transplant because he wants a bigger bonus this year. Maybe that couple just wants to get a loaf of bread and some milk, but they leave the windows up with the kids in the car.
I’m not saying that any of these actions are equal in terms of the damage that they do; far from it. What I am saying is that they all spring from the same basic motivation (in the same way that the same physical principle that drives a moped also drives a tank): We’re pretty sure we’re not bad people, and we mostly don’t have bad intentions, and we rely on these beliefs about ourselves to inform our behavior, even though they might lead to some negative consequences for the people around us. In the end, we tend to irrationally trust our own judgment. The motivation itself is simple, even if its manifestations are complex.
It’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing. I’m handling it, all right?
