R: Love is Blind

“Love is blind.” There are many ways in which this phrase can be interpreted. One is that love is blind because Cupid’s arrows fall indiscriminately. Another is that infatuation blinds lovers to each other's flaws (“But love is blind, and lovers cannot see" or "The pretty follies that themselves commit”). For this debate, I suggest that we focus on a different, though related, question: does true love require physical attraction? Or, to what extent does a flourishing romantic relationship depend on feelings of attraction, brought about through sensory (often visual) means?

Our first impressions of people, more often than not, are physical. This is purely necessary, and the fact has no moral bearing in itself. Before we can judge a person’s character, we see his face. Before we can discern a person’s wisdom, we hear her voice. But should we allow the emotional reactions that stem from such impressions to guide our further interactions with that person? Especially when considering romantic involvement, should we allow these feelings to dictate the terms of our relationship?

When it comes to romantic love, many would argue that our culture has developed an infatuation with its purely carnal aspect. It has isolated and glorified the visual components of love, separating them from the requisite obligations, and diminishing the whole by magnifying the part. Is this not one of the “errors of the age” that we Federalists have committed to resist? When choosing someone to date or establish a relationship with, would we not be better suited by trying to look past mere physical qualities, i.e., correcting our judgment by tempering our taste? After all, physical beauty is transient—enduring, committed relationships are not sustained by the stuff that appeals to the senses alone.

And yet, by stifling the power of the senses to incite feelings within us, do we not deprive ourselves of the proper enjoyment of romantic love? Surely, it is right and just that we admire the beauty of God’s creation, and what could be more attractive than those creatures whom, alongside us, he created in his image? Furthermore, we do not experience love in the abstract. The feelings and obligations of love are always directed toward some object—in the case of romantic love, toward one particular person. What is to be gained by failing to appreciate the full beauty of that individual? Should we not admire both attractiveness of face and strength of character, both physical charms and virtue? By ignoring the sensory aspect of love, do we steal some of its mystery?

Ultimately, this is a debate about the kind of romance we tend to celebrate on Valentine’s Day. But it may also be instructive to contrast romantic love with other types of love—familial love, love between friends, or the perfect love of God for his church.

What is the relation between physical attraction and love? Must one precede the other? In love, is willful “blindness” to sensuality a defect or a virtue? How should our romantic lives be rightly ordered?