Married At First Sight

“It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.”

(Freidrich Nietzsche)

In December 2017 I got down on one knee and popped the question. She said yes and my future was sealed.

We first met in August 2013 when I was an aspiring stand-up comedian. (I never got beyond aspiring.) She was a passionate teacher working long days; I was a failing artist wasting long nights. Consequently, we didn't see much of each other. Texts and calls were our lifeblood. And when we did see each other the happiness couldn't last; Monday loomed large, glowering on the horizon. In time priorities changed. As my love for stand-up waned, my love for her unfurled. In May 2015 we moved into a one bedroom flat, providing our relationship with its first true test. Would we live back to back or cheek to cheek? In March 2017 we bought a house.

Over the years we’ve suffered loss, endured failure, been humbled, chastened. We’ve brought out the best in each other, and, now and again, the worst. I think I know her inside and out, what makes her tick, what makes her tock, yet when it comes down to it people are islands; they have their own mind, a place of one’s own, that is for them and them alone. Evidence of this is our 54/80 score on a Mr and Mrs quiz. (She said she cheered more loudly at Watford matches than me. It was this kind of muddled thinking that cost us huge points.) When it comes down to it, I want to know her more, increase our score, whilst recognising 100% is undesirable. (Knowing your partner that well is unhealthy. It suggests you’ve been hit by an obsession virus so hard that you're quarantined from the outside world.)

So I want to spend the rest of my life with her – it’s as simple as that.

I give this backstory because for the past few weeks we’ve been watching Married at First Sight, a Channel 4 programme based on the Danish series of the same name. Now in its fourth series, we’ve watched every one. The premise is this: the modern world isn’t conducive to love. In these fast times of broadband and jump cuts, no one wants to get to know each other. People move quickly: swiping their phone one minute, wiping their dick the next. With sex calling shotgun, love and commitment take the back seats. What to do then when you can’t find someone who shares your goals? You turn to science. The show is like Bear Grylls does eharmony. On that dating site you answer a series of questions; the idea being you’re then matched with a compatible suitor. Only on Married at First Sight you aren’t just paired for a potential date, but an actual marriage.

In the past few series the marriages have either ended in divorce, separation or cold feet so pronounced the aisles been left vacant. Yet show applicants persist: its experts insisting science is the way forward. Now, there is a school of thought here. A lot of the participants say that finding someone for themselves hasn’t worked, so it’s better someone else tries. Reductively, I think some view it as arranged marriage. The thing is it isn’t. In South Asia where arranged marriages are common, they are not done this way. Incorrectly, Westerners see arranged marriage as going in blind. You turn up on the day and hope for the best. The reality is many couples go in with their eyes wide open. Their families have a sense of one another, canvas opinions, co-ordinate meetings and seek their children's consent. And with so many marriages being organised this way, it’s a part of someone’s cultural identity, as expected as sleep. In many countries it would be far scarier if you were given complete freedom on who to wed: all the permutations and combinations would prove dizzying – like being tasked with Brexit. 

Not entirely true.

The problem with the Married At First Sight method is that it falls between two stools: it doesn’t have the sociology of the South Asian system or the psychology of the Western system – instead it carries the heavy stench of capitalism. The advertisers get rich, and the couples count the cost. Putting people who have grown up within one marriage system into another is not going to work. The relationships are doomed before they start.

This series matches Steph and Jonathan. Both lovely people. She works in nursing; he in public housing. The science says they should go together like Trump and non-disclosures; however, it’s more like Donald and Mexicans. As soon as they are married, Steph puts up a wall. Jonathan, despite his best efforts, can’t topple the thing. Steph isn’t to blame – the concept is. She likes a party, whilst he likes a board game. The adage ‘opposites attract’ should apply, right? Well it does if it naturally transpires. As it is, the burden of marriage weighs too heavily. The couples don’t flourish and like caged birds flap for escape. It appears Steph doesn’t treat Jonathan well, but finding two people that work in a flawed system is something no personality test can prepare you for. If I annoy my wife-to-be, she knows it won't be forever. In a true arranged marriage, the cultural expectation means you'll forgive someone. In Married it's full on immersion that your mind can't compute, consequently you can't give it time.

Jonathan and Steph.

For all of my reservations, it seems like the other participants Jack and Verity are getting on pretty well. As we head into next week’s final episode, maybe I’ll be left eating some humble pie. 

Married At First Sight is on Channel 4, Wednesday at 9. Previous episodes are on All4.

I'll be on holiday from the blog next week as I'm getting married. Ainsley Harriott will be standing in.