On the limited value of veto power in non-monogamy

Eli Heina Dadabhoy
6 min readNov 14, 2019

According to More Than Two*, a veto is

A relationship agreement, most common in prescriptive primary/secondary relationships, which gives one person the power to end another person’s additional relationships, or in some cases to disallow some specific activity, such as some specific sexual or «BDSM»-related activity.

While some use “veto power” to mean “when I call veto, we need to check in and discuss your other relationship(s),” I’m using “veto” to mean “when I call veto, you must immediately and fully end your other relationship(s).”

Veto power is fairly common among non-monogamists. It’s also incredibly controversial among non-monogamists. In my experience, where before it was almost assumed that you had veto power in at least one of your relationships, I now see plenty of pushback against it.

The main argument I’ve seen (and used) against veto power is its disrespect of personal agency and misuse of boundaries. The difference between “you must break up with Other Partner(s) because I said so” and “I don’t want to be with you while you are also with Other Partner(s) so I am breaking up with you” is not merely semantic. From an agency perspective, eschewing veto power respects what boundaries actually are: personal and individual. I can’t claim a boundary that interferes with someone else’s personal agency, but I can make a boundary for myself about what I do, which reinforces my own agency.

Yet agency arguments, sadly, are often not very succinct or compelling in an argument.

Which is why I am so excited about an interesting framing of the issue I came across recently. The comments closed before I could get permission to share or ask how the people wanted to be credited, so I’m going with a paraphrase.

It goes something like this: If I veto, I am enforcing a decision on a partner that they would not make for themself. Even if I think that ending a relationship is the best decision for my partner, do I really want to be with someone who wouldn’t make that decision without me there to make it for them?

A veto, then, is a band-aid solution for a lack of shared values, a short-term prolonging of a relationship between people who aren’t actually on the same page. Long term, it won’t solve the problems in the relationship. If someone feels the need to veto, that might end the current source of their discomfort, but the real reason still exists — even if that reason legitimately is “my partner makes bad choices in other partners.”

Veto power, in short, is of extremely limited value and utility, even if all you care about is the continuation of the very relationship that the veto is meant to protect.

And that’s not even touching on how otherwise decent people can and do exercise veto power for obviously bad reasons.

Optional reading: Further related thoughts on veto power and agency

Veto power is often established in the context of a formerly-monogamous couple considering non-monogamy. In fact, in those situations, veto power is often considered to be an unquestionable good. Nervous people worried about hurting their existing relationship feel comforted by the idea that they can simply veto if they feel they can no longer handle the non-monogamy experiment. They believe a veto is a non-monogamy kill switch that will return their relationship to its prior state.

Of course, that’s not how it actually goes.

But let’s say you don’t have an unrealistic point of view and don’t think a veto is a time machine. What’s wrong with being able to tell a partner to end a relationship? After all, you may have clearer insight into why their other partner is a bad partner, especially if NRE is involved.

Here’s where I reveal my personal feelings about veto power: It’s a hard boundary for me, full stop. I may have casual non-platonic contact with someone does the veto thing, but I won’t romantically date or be in a relationship with someone who can veto any of their partner’s partners or whose partner(s) can veto me. As depressing as it is to be able to say, I can now back that up with evidence: I can’t handle being with someone I otherwise incredibly adore if they are with a partner who vetoed another person — who wasn’t even me.

(brb, sobbing into the void again)

It’s an agency thing to me. I don’t think it’s right (or even truly possible) for me to make dating decisions for anyone but myself, I don’t agree to any relationship where I give that power over my life to others, and I don’t want the existence of my relationship(s) to be controlled by my metamours.

Of course, any of my partners have every right to express concerns about another partner to me, to remind me of any agreements we have with each other (which by definition are with each other and each other only), or even break up with me if they don’t want to be with me while I’m with some other person. I don’t, however, give them the right to tell me I must break up with someone else because they said so.

My nesting partner is evidence that you don’t need veto power to help your partner deal with bad partners/relationships. In the nine years we have been together, I have absolutely dated terrible people, just as I have made bad decisions in other aspects of my life. That my partner talks to me as well as trusts me to listen and do better, rather than issues cease-and-desist orders, means everything to me. That I in turn choose to consult him in most things, trust him, shield him as much as I can from the consequences of my actions, and try not to make the same mistakes again, matters a lot to him.

I honestly don’t think I could’ve evolved as much as I have as a person had he vetoed anyone. Forbidding me a partner rather than letting things run their course might have saved us some drama in the short term, but in the long term, would have stopped me from figuring things out for myself and learning more meaningfully. Lessons like “no really, do NOT make long-term decisions during the decidedly short-term phase we call NRE” are important to learn. Overriding a partner’s agency to force them to end a relationship doesn’t teach them anything other than “don’t you dare try me, I absolutely will end your other relationship(s) if I so choose.”

[Edited on 09 March 2022 to add: The nesting partner referenced above is now an ex. I broke up with him just over a year ago. The reasons had nothing to do with my other partners, and I still think he behaved very well on the matter of my other relationships. At the same time, it turns out that his complete acceptance of my other relationships and partners had rather less positive motivations than I had assumed when I wrote this piece. One can do the right thing for the wrong reasons, and that’s what I now believe about his behavior in this specific context. I’m still processing all of it.]

Footnote on my use of More Than Two: Franklin Veaux is Not A Good Partner, to put it lightly. Resources/references on that have been compiled as a Google spreadsheet. I don’t exactly remember which post by the survivors of his using/abusing said this, but they don’t think it necessary for everyone to stop referencing More Than Two, just that we raise awareness with disclaimers, so that’s what I’m doing.

--

--

Eli Heina Dadabhoy

[ee-lie hee-na dad-uh-boy] Blogger, cat foster, and all-around Person Who Says Stuff.