Engagement Rings Are Stupid, by Matt Shirley

Engagement Rings Are Stupid, by Matt Shirley

My brother Paul and I, on our second attempt to see the three-dimensional version of Avatar (the first ended in a blown left-rear tire and a ride home from joke-telling, truck-towing, cell-phone-hating racist), heard a disturbing radio commercial. The commercial was for a diamond company and it urged prospective grooms, frustrated by their inadequacies at picking out engagement rings, to come to their store for all of their diamond-related needs. The commercial promised prompt and helpful service, a great variety of rings and gems, and most importantly, assistance in picking out that perfect ring for that special someone. This commercial made me very sad.

Let me be clear that my feelings weren’t a reflection on my views towards the institution of marriage. Nor were they a manifestation of trepidation about my own engagement, whenever that might occur. I was sad because I realized, while listening to that voice-over, that engagement rings are a stupid tradition.

A cursory examination of the history of the tradition of engagement rings doesn’t reveal much. Rings were exchanged in olden times, and still today I suppose, as symbols of unity and loyalty to one’s partner. What started as a ring of betrothal became a simple engagement band, which eventually became a ring encrusted in diamonds.

Today, I’d have to assume that giving a girl anything less than a diamond ring for the engagement would be met with nothing less than a fake smile and a dick punch. Girls expect rings and they expect diamonds on those rings. That’s the way things work. But why diamonds?

Answer: Because DeBeers said so.

Through the “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend” ad campaign, DeBeers transformed the engagement ring from a band of iron or silver or woven sapling to a sparkly, diamond-studded, ‘we aren’t eating for two months’, drain on the pocketbook. And suddenly, a new custom is born.

Tradition my ass.

Furthermore, in our current age of feminism, equal rights and privileges between sexes, and Hilary Clinton, it seems perfectly acceptable to ask the following question: Why the hell does she get the ring? And as a selfish person I can ask another: What the hell do I get out of this? Historically, it seems likely that the ring was some sort of pledge to the bride-to-be’s family—a dowry of sorts. Or maybe the groom gave the bride the ring so that she would finally have sex with him. Sexbribe! But nowadays, these reasons don’t fly—dowries have gone the way of the Diplodocus and only rarely do girls dabble in the sex for rings trade. The only logical explanation I can come up with to give her a ring is: because I’m a male, and males get screwed.

Another irksome fact about the engagement ring tradition is this: it’s the only gift a man has to give that requires zero thought of any kind. Time to get engaged? Time to go diamond-shopping, homeboy. Why not an engagement car? Or an engagement trip to Barbados? Or an engagement facelift? If it’s the thought that counts, then engagement rings are shitty gifts. Basically there is no personalization—the marketing and the ritualized comsumership (made that word up) saps the custom of any true sentiment. The man goes to the diamond store, picks out a ring based on his interpretations of her jewelry style (read: guesswork), and buys it. It has all the sentimental value of a gift card, without giving the recipient the flexibility of picking something that she’d actually want. It’s a gift certificate to Jiffy Lube. And yet because he spends five to ten to fifteen thousand dollars on it, suddenly he’s a goddamn hero. What kind of message does that send, ladies?

Finally, and most importantly, the tradition of giving a diamond engagement ring means nothing to me. To me, traditions only hold significance when I can attach some sort of positive feeling or memory to them. For example, my family has always had shrimp for Christmas dinner. This is an important tradition to me because it brings back all of the good Christmas memories of my youth (and post-youth). The tradition of engagement rings holds no such significance. In fact, the only significance this ‘cultural tradition’ holds to me has been beamed into my brain via television programs and moving picture shows. I have never taken part in any sort of engagement ritual or even witnessed one for that matter. I wasn’t around to see my grandparents or my parents or my friends get engaged, so why would I consider this act a tradition at all?

A more telling example might be the 4th of July. Traditionally, the holiday is a celebration of America’s declaration of independence from Great Britain. But how is that significant to me? I wasn’t around to experience Great Britain’s suppression of freedom, or the joy that was brought about by our independence from it. In fact, it’s hard for me to even see Britain as an enemy since today, they are one of our closest friends and allies. However, unlike the engagement ring tradition, the 4th of July still holds some significance. But it’s a significance that’s incongruous with the intent of the original celebration. I like to celebrate the 4th of July because I like fireworks, I like summer, and I like all of the memories that I hold dear from Independence Days past. I’m afraid shitty movies and cliché television plots aren’t enough to summon similar feelings and memories for the tradition of engagement rings, and in fact, they go so far as to make me want to NOT carry on such a insignificant and shallow tradition.

The obvious counterargument is this: Matt, it may not mean anything to you but it will probably mean something to the unlucky girl you eventually want to marry; don’t you want to make her happy? This is probably true; the girl I will want to marry will probably want a diamond ring. But should she? Does she really have attachment to this ‘tradition?’ Probably not.

But in the end, I will undoubtedly become a hypocrite, and succumb to our culture’s tradition—a culture of shallowness and non-thought—and buy an engagement ring with a diamond on top. Not because I think it’s right. And not because I think it’s really what she should want. But because I don’t really want to explain, ten thousand times over, why my fiancée has an engagement beagle instead of an engagement ring. I guess THAT is how stupid traditions get passed on.