Can We End
Divorce?
Elise Pettus, SWING,
November, 1997
Can you learn to keep your marriage
together? Proponents of couples' education say that they know how
to end divorce - and all it takes is some homework, practice
drills, and a good teacher.
Turns out Tolstoy was wrong about all
happy couples being alike. According to believers in marriage
education, it's the unhappy ones who are the same, or at least they
are all unhappy in similar ways. Case in point: A young couple
repeats an argument they've clearly had countless times before.
"Everything you do, you mess up and who has to fix it? I do!" she
shouts. He sighs and protests. "What about the time you busted the
door?" she yells. "There you go," he bellows back, "bringing up the
past again." For the five couples sitting around a table watching
them on videotape, it isn't hard to imagine this pair riding a
perpetual merry-go-round of misery.
Suddenly, the tape freezes. Peter Fraenkel, a clinical
psychologist, approaches the monitor and points to the man's eyes
as they roll upwards to the ceiling. "See that?" says Fraenkel, "we
call that the appeal to heaven." The group giggles. The male in
this couple, he explains, is a chronic "withdrawer, " while she is
a chronic "pursuer." According to marital researchers, this pattern
of behavior is one of the major predictors of divorce.
Welcome to the new school for love, in this case, a class called
PREP, short for Prevention and Relationship Enhancement Program.
Unlike traditional marriage therapy, which aims to help troubled
couples keep their relationships together and get over old
grievances, couples education classes like PREP aim to teach happy
premarital and married couples how to avoid problems and get along
over the long haul. Don't think tearful "sharing" sessions; picture
a college classroom or management training seminar -- lectures,
homework, practice drills.
"Couples these days can't afford to rely on love to keep them
together," says Diane Sollee, executive director of the 1-year-old
Coalition for Marriage, Family, and Couples Education based in
Washington, D.C. "That kind of thinking is based on an old worn-out
premise about marriage." Sollee, who promotes classes like PREP, is
determined to provide us with a new premise: "smart love," or love
informed by what the experts have to tell us about what keeps a
marriage together. Sollee's unlikely group of allies --
psychotherapists, research psychologists, Christian conservatives,
grassroots social activists, and even some divorce lawyers --
believes that effective marital education can substantially reduce
our national divorce rate. Sollee says, "The difference between
having a good marriage and a bad marriage comes down to having the
right skills," skills that she says can be learned in a
classroom.
The Coalition directory currently lists more than 20 marriage
education programs around the country, some of which, like PREP
(which is taught nationwide), Marriage Mentors (in Seattle), and
PREPARE (also nationwide) specialize in teaching young engaged or
newlywed couples. These programs range from $30 questionnaires or
"inventories" to four-month-long couples' courses costing more than
$1,000. Even at the high end, Sollee says, the cost is negligible
compared with the $15,000 the average couple spends on a wedding --
not to mention what they would spend on a divorce.
Over the past 30 years, we have come to
accept divorce as a fact of American life. Statistics suggest that
of the 2.4 million brides and grooms who tie the knot each year --
the vast majority of whom are in their 20s -- just under half of
them will get divorced. And a significant number of those divorces
will occur within three to five years of marriage.
Recently, divorce has come under attack from pundits and
policymakers, who argue that divorce has become all too easy and
too common. Critics maintain that our national divorce rate (the
highest in the world) is a major cause of poverty, teenage
pregnancy, and juvenile crime. Defenders argue that divorce is
still better than a bad marriage, and that to curtail the right to
divorce would constitute a serious blow to feminism. Nonetheless,
in the last 12 months, at least 10 states have considered rolling
back the no-fault divorce laws that have been standard since the
1970s (Ronald Reagan signed the first no-fault provision into law
as governor of California in 1969). This August, Louisiana became
the first state to adopt a "covenant marriage" law requiring
couples to choose whether to marry in accordance with the current
marriage restrictions or with a stricter set of vows, under which
divorce would be allowed only on grounds of abuse, adultery,
incarceration for a felony, or after a two-year marital
separation.
Against this backdrop of legislative battles and moral debates,
Sollee held the first Smart Marriages/Happy Families conference in
Arlington, Virginia, in May. One hundred presenters and more than
1,000 attendees gathered to share research as well as programming
and outreach ideas. Featured speakers included marital expert John
Gottman, Ph.D., who Sollee refers to as "the father of all of us."
Gottman, a psychologist at the University of Washington, began
studying couples' interactions in the 1970s in his "love lab," a
sort of human fish tank equipped with the comforts of a home but
fully wired with video cameras. Gottman spent years monitoring not
only couples' language and gestures but also the minute shifts in
facial expressions, pulse, heart rate, and hormone surges.
What resulted was a body of knowledge about what makes some
marriages fail while others succeed. Gottman and five other marital
research teams have since published studies in which they have been
able to predict with up to 96 percent accuracy whether a newlywed
or engaged couple is likely to remain happily married based on how
they interact with one another. As marital researcher Scott Stanley
puts it, "the seeds of ruin are already present at the time a
couple walks down the aisle."
Once researchers were able to identify some common booby traps for
married couples, the next step was to share that information with
the couples themselves. "Some of the determining factors in a
marriage are static," says Howard Markman, a psychology professor
at the University of Denver, "such as religious background or
whether their parents divorced, but many other important factors
are dynamic -- how they communicate, resolve conflict, and deal
with marital expectations. And these are the factors we can
influence so the marriage has a much better chance of
succeeding."
The Coalition hopes that in the near future couples' classes will
become an accepted part of wedding traditions, up there with the
bridal shower and bachelor party. Sollee, who has given course
certificates to her nieces and nephews, as well as her two sons,
even suggests giving the classes as wedding presents.
It may be a tough sell. Most young couples approach marriage
optimistically and don't think couples' education sounds terribly
romantic. "I'm not sure what a course could teach us that we don't
already know," says Leslie Chang, 28, who got married in September
to a man she has lived with for four years. Twenty-seven-year-old
Alicia Katz(a pseudonym) is engaged to be married for the second
time after divorcing her first husband at 24. It isn't that her
first marriage and divorce were easy, she says, "it was 100 little
heartbreaks a day." But she fears that if she said she wanted to
take a course, her new fiancé "would construe it as a sign of
doubt."
Fran Braverman, a PREP-trained psychotherapist in Wilton,
Connecticut, admits: "It's been difficult to target engaged couples
because they are interested in planning the wedding and picking
their china." She has yet to organize an actual PREP course. Karen
Blaisure, a family therapist and assistant professor at Western
Michigan University, is planning to introduce a PREP course next
year. "Someone suggested we place ads next to the dear Abby
columns," she says half-joking, "but we will be hitting the bridal
shows in January."
Markman, along with Scott Stanley and
Susan Blumberg, designed the PREP program based on fifteen years of
research they had done at the University of Denver. Since 1989, an
estimated 2,000 mental health professionals around the country have
been trained to teach PREP. More than 2,500 couples have taken the
course, which is currently the best-known skills training available
to premarital couples. Courses range from eight hours (one-day
intensive) to fifteen hours (spread out over two or three days) and
cost between $140 and $300. In Peter Fraenkel's PREP class at New
York University Medical Center, couples learn about the four
argument patterns that prophesy doom for married couples:
withdrawal, escalation, invalidation, and negative interpretation.
They also learn a communication technique to help circumvent these
patterns -- a kind of conflict containment system which PREP calls
the "speaker-listener" technique.
To use it, one person airs his or her gripe using so-called
I-statements ("When you leave me waiting for half an hour at a
restaurant, I feel angry") limited to 10 or 15 seconds. The other
person listens, and then paraphrases the statement back to the
original speaker ("I hear you saying that when I..."). When the
speaker has had a chance to air the entire complaint (in three to
five statements) and is satisfied that the listener heard it right,
they switch roles.
The course follows up the speaker-listener technique with methods
for problem-solving, some of which derive from NASA's brainstorming
strategies for developing new space technology. Other PREP
techniques are designed to help couples find time in their busy
schedules to have fun together and to protect that time from
discussion of issues or problems.
Sharon Joffe, 27, and Jeff Sperber, 25,
took the PREP course a year before they planned to marry. "We were
curious," says Joffe, a former radio DJ who now works at an
advertising firm. Her fiancé, who works for a record company, was
less excited. He hated the idea of giving up a whole Saturday. "But
I think we both found that it was really helpful," he says now of
the program. "Probably the most fruitful thing we have done is to
have a serious talk about our finances and we used what we learned
in the course to help us talk about it." Also helpful they say were
the speaker-listener technique and the tips they learned about how
to handle arguments. "If you're living together you're going to
have problems," he says, "and isn't it great to have some structure
to deal with them?"
Joffe and Sperber say that their friends thought they were a little
strange for taking the course. "They tended to see it as,'Oh,
you're having some problems,'" says Joffe. But they say they are
now better able to separate the time they spend together having fun
from the time they spend discussing problems. They have also
learned how to slow down their communication during heated
discussions so that they can understand each other better. "We
don't speak in neat little 'I-Statements' all the time or anything"
says Sperber, "but I think [the class gives you] information that
-- once you have it -- will always be there, and you can use it
whenever you need it."
Research on the long-term effects of
couples education, though limited, shows that programs like PREP
may make a difference. "A controled study at the University of
Denver followed 20 couples who were sent to PREP and 24 couples who
were not assigned to any marital training. The results showed that
after five years, the PREP couples had only half as many breakups
and reported being significantly happier in their marriages.
Another study, done in Germany, compared couples who had taken PREP
with couples who had received traditional Catholic pre-marital
counseling. After five years, only 4 percent of PREP couples
compared with 24 percent of the other couples had split up.
The Center for Relationship Development, run out of Seattle Pacific
University in Seattle Washington, also focuses on young engaged
couples. The center offers a $90 week end seminar called Saving
Your Marriage Before It Starts, focusing on marriage expectations
as well as techniques like PREP's speaker-listener method. "We
thought we were teaching all this good stuff," says Les Parrott, a
psychologist who co-founded the center with Leslie, his wife of 13
years. "But we wanted to be sure that it was sticking." So Les and
Leslie, a therapist, developed the Marriage Mentors program in
1991, which matches young couples with experienced couples. The
older couples guide them through seven "basic questions" about
themselves and their expectations for marriage and follow them
through their first year of marriage. The program has matched up
over 400 younger and older couples through church and community
groups around the country. "Time will tell," says Parrott. "But of
all the couples we've tracked, no one's got divorced or
separated."
PREPARE, a premarriage program based in
Minneapolis, offers young couples an "inventory" of 165 questions
to be answered separately by both partners. Some questions gauge
communication skills (Does your partner give you the silent
treatment?). While others cover marital expectations (Do you plan
to raise your children in a church setting? Does the ideal
Thanksgiving involve sitting around a table with the family or a
four-day getaway in the Caribbean?). After a computer tallies and
compares the couple's answers, both partners meet two to six times
with a counselor or clergy member who interprets their scores and
works with them on communication and conflict resolution. There's a
$30 fee for the inventory scoring, but the follow-up sessions,
particularly if they are offered by a church or synagogue, are
frequently free of charge.
David Olsen, a University of Minnesota psychology professor
pioneered the PREPARE program in 1980 and claims that more than 1
million couples have taken PREPARE so far. Studies show that the
inventory is able to identify couples headed for divorce with 80 to
85% accuracy. "About two out of every ten couples who take the
inventory will say,'Maybe we shouldn't get married,'" Olson says.
"We think that's a good thing because they would have likely been
headed into an unhappy marriage or a painful divorce."
Compared to the nearly two and a half
million couples that marry in the United States each year, the
number taking these classes remains relatively small. PREP's Scott
Stanley believes that the reason programs like his have been slow
to take hold is that "America just isn't very good at prevention.
"But Rita de Maria, a family therapist who teaches several couples'
education courses in Philadelphia, says that views are gradually
changing. "About 25 percent of people I see are in their 20s and
they're worried because their parents had problems," she says.
"They need to be reassured."
Other marriage education promoters feel that America can't wait for
an attitude shift. Mike McManus, a syndicated columnist out of
Bethesda, Maryland, and an anti-divorce advocate, has lobbied for
legally mandated premarital counseling. "To get a driver's license
in this country you have to get tested on your vision, skills, and
knowledge of the law," he says. "But to get a marriage license all
you have to know is your mother's maiden name." McManus wants more
cities and counties around the nation to agree on a "community
marriage policy" like the one Judge James Sheridan effected in
Lenawee County, Michigan. Since June 1, no Lenawee church, judge or
public official has agreed to legally marry a couple who has not
completed a premarital education course.
Some find this precedent frightening. "It's one thing to encourage
premarital counseling," says Kim Stout of the Michigan chapter of
the American Civil Liberties Union, "but it's another to mandate
it." Stout objects that when judges get together to make a blanket
decision it carries the force of law in the community. "They are
skipping over the usual process of scrutiny that goes into making a
law."
The developers of PREP are not anxious to
see their course or any other mandated by law, either. They believe
laws requiring premarital courses are likely to push people away
from marriage altogether. Furthermore, Stanley says, inviting
government to choose the programs would result in "a bureaucratic
nightmare" and "a loss of quality control." Most proposals to
mandate premarital programs have been vague on how much they would
cost and who would pay for them. Some states have discussed raising
the fee for a marriage license to cover program costs. According to
Blaisure, who advised the sponsors of a Michigan premarital
education bill, the courses would be conducted either by counselors
who would accept payment on a sliding scale or churches willing to
offer free classes in order to draw a larger group of
participants.
PREP developers are already working to
train clergy in Colorado to run PREP courses, in most cases getting
them to swap their traditional premarital counseling for the PREP
approach based on learning marriage skills. "Seventy percent of
couples get married in a church or synagogue," says Markman, "if we
get those institutions using programs like PREP, I'd say we're
doing pretty well."
I'm O.K., You're
O.K
Our Writer and her husband delve
into the world of PREP. Will They Come Out
Alive?
My husband Dan and I have been married for
two years, but when I got this assignment, I figured I ought to try
out one of the premarriage training classes for myself. Diane
Sollee offered to get me into a PREP course. After I signed up, I
realized I still hadn't consulted Dan, who would have to enroll
with me. "Don't worry," said Sollee, "men love these
courses."
"Yuck," said Dan when I described to him
what I had planned for us the following Saturday and two subsequent
Thursday nights. "We don't need that, we have a great marriage.
Besides, I don't want to talk about my problems with a bunch of
strangers." I told him what Sollee had told me: that PREP was
intended for happy couples, not miserable ones and that it was a
class not an encounter group. Still, he envisioned a room filled
with pillows and teary-eyed misfits grasping for Kleenex. "I've
been in therapy, you've been in therapy," he cried. "We are both
O.K!" Then, looking at me as though I'd asked him to jump across a
pit of smouldering lava, he muttered, "I'm going to hate
this."
We arrived at a conference room in the New
York Universtiy Medical Center at 10AM. Peter Fraenkel, a Ph.D. in
clinical psychology and our PREP instructor, stood in the fron of
the room in a tweedy jacket and tie. He reminded me and Dan a
little of Bob Newhart, but with a blackboard, a VCR, and an
overhead projector.
"We are hoping to add some tools to your
toolbox," he told us. He started the class with a series of cartoon
parodies of dysfunctional marriages. Most of the jokes fell flat
with our group and at times he almost begged us to laugh. Then he
explained the importance of communication and managing conflict and
laid out the four types of argument behavior most predictive of
divorce (withdrawal, escalation, invalidation, and negative
interpretation). There were also other bad habits with names like
"kitchen-sinking" (throwing all your grievances at your partner at
once); "yes, but-ing" (not taking time to really hear the other's
point of view before blurting out your own); and
"cross-complaining" ( responding to a complaint with "Well, yes,
but you did such and such the other day!").
Next, we moved on to real-life couples on
videotape. The first couple seemed wildly hostile, even hopless.
But the next couple was fairly civil and sparked silent nods of
recognition around the room. "Oops," I found myself whispering to
Dan about the man who kept tuning out of tough discussions, "I do
that."
After a few hours and a lot of instant
coffee, we had learned our first skill: the "speaker-listener"
technique, whereby one person airs his or her gripe, while the
other paraphrases the statement back. Then we broke up into couples
and went off to little rooms to practice the technique with each
other and the help of a PREP-trained psychotherapist. Fraenkel
advised us all not to choose our thorniest issue to
start.
As simple as it sounded, Dan and I
struggled at first with this stiff construct. A supposedly low-
intensity topic having to do with a household thermometer brought
us both to tears within moments. It isn't easy to pack an emotion
into a soundbite. Nor is it easy just to sit back and listen -- how
often do we use the time someone else is talking just to form a
good rebuttal? But every time I heard one of my own feelings
reflected by Dan, I felt an exhilerating, affirming
rush.
Emboldened, we decided to try a recent
topic of contention: "When you go out to report a story late at
night, I feel scared," Dan said. I had never actually heard him say
it that way before. I had always felt annoyed by his complaints and
questions about my erratic work schedule -- when will you be home,
will you call -- because it seemed that he was curtailing my
independence. I never suspected his motive was fear. Fifteen
minutes later, we had just completed our first real discussion on a
topic that, during the three years of our relationship, had never
failed to send us into an argument.
We had a harder time mastering other
techniques. Fraenkel asked us to list 10 fun things to do togehter
with our partner, then switch lists and be responsible for making
three things on the other person's list happen before the next
meeting. The good news was that Dan and and I shared a lot of the
same ideas of what we would enjoy (sneaking out to an afternoon
movie, taking a drive in the country, having an afterwork beer at a
neighborhood dive). The bad news was how much stress we experienced
trying to accomplish these during a busy work week. On the evening
of the second class, we were two fun things short, which caused
some tension, until we agreed that it would be fun to lie about it
if questioned (and that still left us one short).
For homework, we were supposed to explore
our expectations about married life -- the ideal travel holiday (a
pony trek in the Andes or a four-star hotel stay in Paris), the
ideal number of children (one and a half), and the the longest we
could wait to have them (six months versus six years). We used the
speaker-listener technique for thornier issues, like how much money
each of us expected the other to pull in next year and how much
time we would spend with our respective families. If the format
felt goofy in the beginning, it still felt goofy after two weeks.
Despite the fact that we felt we knew each other better after each
exercise, we were relieved when the final class arrived.
In retrospect, much of what made the
course worthwhile was simply going through it together. These days,
if one of us says "I need a speaker-listener," the other knows
there's an issue we need to discuss. We don't even need to follow
the technique to the letter; the reference is often
enough.
At the end of the final session, Dan gave
Fraenkel this assesment of the experience. "Your coffee sucks and
that Saturday class was way too long, " he said, "but the skills
are really useful. It's like being able to put on sunglasses that
allow you to look right into the sun." Fraenkel smiled an earnest
smile. "That's great," he said, "really great. Mind if we quote you
on that?"