Many years ago, I attended a large party with a friend. During the festivities, one of our acquaintances began a very lewd sexual flirtation with another guest right in front of everyone, including the man’s own wife. The wife looked wounded but was bearing up—or was in shock—until she watched her husband take the woman’s hand, look directly into his wife’s face for a full second, then lead the young woman away toward his car. They left together, and the stranded wife was on her own.
On the ride home, I expressed my disapproval of the whole affair. My date thought my attitude was judgmental and naïve. “Everybody does it,” he said in dismissal.
“No,” I answered. “Everybody does not do it. And even if they did, that still wouldn’t make it okay.”
I didn’t object to cheating in the abstract, even though I think it’s destructive. And I wasn’t being self-righteous. His fidelity, or lack of it, meant little to me. I’m human enough to know that anyone might yield to temptation.
My reaction was mere sympathy with his wife. He wasn’t just cheating, he was abusing his wife right in front of everyone and forcing us to witness. I felt soiled.
Moral judgment is one thing; basic human decency is another. No one should have to stay with a love they no longer want, but no one should be treated so cruelly either.
The cad actually returned to his wife the next day, and she inexplicably let him in. Each to his own. But I never socialized with that couple again. It wasn’t moral judgment. It was just judgment. And everybody does it.