So we're promised freedom, and we end up with an almost Kafka-esque nightmare of never-ending series of rules that we can never be sure we truly following correctly since every situation is different. In contrast, the traditional model of infidelity has historically had one very simple rule: be discreet. Aside from that, anything goes, including sexual acts that have been considered illegal: interracial sex, prostitution, homosexuality, etc.. To be absolutely clear, I'm not at all advocating this, I'm simply pointing out that the claim that polyamory is about freedom while monogamy is about constraints falls apart immediately on serious inspection. If anything, the opposite is true.
I was initially going to respond "Constraints that you participated in the writing of and explicitly agreed to don't go against the notion of freedom at all, certainly not compared to ones you have no say in and little choice to decline," but it seems you're coming at this from a rather different angle. You are considering the constraint of monogamy not as "be monogamous (details elsewhere)", but rather as "be discreet about polygamy". This has several problems, SFAICT.
We can apply this sort of level-jumping operation to any rule - "Do X" becomes "Be discreet about violations of X" - but these aren't the same thing, and it is far from obvious that the latter is so. A real instance of the latter might be, for instance, how Spartan boys were taught to steal food - they were beaten if caught, because they were supposed to avoid getting caught. But, the general reaction to learning about violations of monogamy seems to generally be, "They did that?" rather than "They let themselves get caught?" or "They told people", which suggests that most people have the simpler rule in mind. Or, even if they don't, they certainly want to appear as if they did. Which either means they think most people have the simpler rule in mind, or the whole thing is one large mass hypocrisy in which everyone knows the actual rule is "be discreet", but admitting this would be itself a violation of the rules. I suppose the latter isn't too implausible, seeing that a number of things do seem to follow that pattern... but there will always be people, the "nerds" in Eliezer's terminology, who actually believe what they're told, and who won't be in on it, and who actually will be using the basic rule. So even in the latter case I'm not sure you can claim that's the actual rule. (In addition, in the latter case, the acknowledgement of the "be discreet" rule is unconscious, which doesn't sound like what you're describing above.) Though maybe I've missed a few cases?
OK. That's problem number one. Problem number two is, once you're acting within the bounds of "be discreet"... what are you actually going to do? You need more than one person for sex, and that (I should hope) means some sort of agreement about what's actually going to go on. In short, we're right back to square one - the freedom of "be discreet" is no different from the freedom of, well, open freedom, except that the former is hidden and the latter is not. Give people freedom to interact with each other, and they'll want some sort of assurance of what other people will do, and will start making promises and contracts.
Problem number three is that it's hard to see this as a solution when it's fundamentally dishonest, but I guess that's obvious.
Problem number four is that it's arbitrary. You said the freedom is to "be discreet". Be discreet about what? About violations of some rule. What rule? Does it matter? You're talking about violations of monogamy, but your entire argument, if valid, would go through if that were replaced by polygny or any other rule. Your argument doesn't support monogamy - it supports secrecy, and that's all.
But, the general reaction to learning about violations of monogamy seems to generally be, "They did that?" rather than "They let themselves get caught?"
I think for many people, infidelity only can be said to have happened if someone was caught. This is the logic of "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." Another interesting aspect of outrage over rule-breaking is that it's possible and even common to be openly outraged about a transgression that you don't care about and even do yourself.
This is not really hypocrisy, it's a...
Many of us are familiar with Donald Rumsfeld's famous (and surprisingly useful) taxonomy of knowledge:
But this taxonomy (as originally described) omits an important fourth category: unknown knowns, the things we don't know that we know. This category encompasses the knowledge of many of our own personal beliefs, what I call unquestioned defaults. For example, most modern Americans possess the unquestioned default belief that they have some moral responsibility for their own freely-chosen actions. In the twelfth century, most Europeans possessed the unquestioned default belief that the Christian god existed. And so on. These unknown knowns are largely the products of a particular culture; they require homogeneity of belief to remain unknown.
By definition, we are each completely ignorant of our own unknown knowns. So even when our culture gives us a fairly accurate map of the territory, we'll never notice the Mercator projection's effect. Unless it's pointed out to us or we find contradictory evidence, that is. A single observation can be all it takes, if you're paying attention and asking questions. The answers might not change your mind, but you'll still come out of the process with more knowledge than you went in with.
When I was eighteen I went on a date with a girl I'll call Emma, who conscientiously informed me that she already had two boyfriends: she was, she said, polyamorous. I had previously had some vague awareness that there had been a free love movement in the sixties that encouraged "alternative lifestyles", but that awareness was not a sufficient motivation for me to challenge my default belief that romantic relationships could only be conducted one at a time. Acknowledging default settings is not easy.
The chance to date a pretty girl, though, can be sufficient motivation for a great many things (as is also the case with pretty boys). It was certainly a good enough reason to ask myself, "Self, what's so great about this monogamy thing?"
I couldn't come up with any particularly compelling answers, so I called Emma up and we planned a second date.
Since that fateful day, I've been involved in both polyamorous and monogamous relationships, and I've become quite confident that I am happier, more fulfilled, and a better romantic partner when I am polyamorous. This holds even when I'm dating only one person; polyamorous relationships have a kind of freedom to them that is impossible to obtain any other way, as well as a set of similarly unique responsibilities.
In this discussion I am targeting monogamy because its discovery has had an effect on my life that is orders of magnitude greater than that of any other previously-unknown known. Others I've spoken with have had similar experiences. If you haven't had it before, you now have the same opportunity that I lucked into several years ago, if you choose to exploit it.
This, then, is your exercise: spend five minutes thinking about why your choice of monogamy is preferable to all of the other inhabitants of relationship-style-space, for you. Other options that have been explored and documented include:
These types of polyamory cover many of the available options, but there are others; some are as yet unknown. Some relationship styles are better than others, subject to your ethics, history, and personality. I suspect that monogamy is genuinely the best option for many people, perhaps even most. But it's impossible for you to know that until you know that you have a choice.
If you have a particularly compelling argument for or against a particular relationship style, please share it. But if romantic jealousy is your deciding factor in favor of monogamy, you may want to hold off on forming a belief that will be hard to change; my next post will be about techniques for managing and reducing romantic jealousy.