I was having a conversation in the truck with my girlfriend yesterday about laundry detergent.  Not, of course, because this is a subject that interests me, particularly, but because we were going to the store to pick some up.  She told me about discussions she had with her stepmother and various friends about switching to certain “formulas,” i.e., a certain detergent and a certain fabric softener or whatever.  I was flabbergasted.  My girlfriend is something of a feminist and imagining her debating the merits of detergent and fabric softener was… incongruous, I guess.

When I used to work in family law, the division of labor in individual marriages was always something that fascinated me.  During the discovery process, each party to a divorce would have to produce documents pursuant to requests, and one party (often the husband) would produce all of the financial documents, and the other party (often the wife) would produce a bunch of pictures drawn by the children.  Though I suppose there’s some fantasy world where both parties in a relationship participate equally in the household chores and household financial production, stubborn reality persists in rewarding specialization in marriage (or domestic partnership).

Interestingly, economics has a name for this phenomenon, though it’s more commonly applied to areas of trade and crap.  Ricardo’s Law of Comparative Advantage states that if party A can produce a good Y more efficiently than he can produce good Z, and party B can produce good Z more efficiently than he can produce good Y, to maximize production party A should focus on producing Y and party B should focus on producing Z, EVEN IF party B can also produce good Y more efficiently than party A.

To illustrate the above, let’s imagine Joe and Jane Sixpack, a married couple.  Joe Sixpack can consume 6 vodka tonics a night (let’s stipulate for the purposes of this example that vodka tonic consumption is a positive good in our hypothetical marriage).  He can, in the alternative, give himself one half a blowjob a night.  Jane Sixpack can consume 8 vodka tonics a night, or she can give 5 blowjobs a night (let’s further stipulate that  she’s giving the blowjobs to Joe Sixpack and not their neighbor, Mr. Pinchpenny, since even in the imaginary world of our hypothetical it would be difficult to construe that as a positive marital good).  If Joe and Jane each devoted half of their time to blowjobs and mixed drinks, the total production of the marital household is 7 vodka tonics consumed, and 2 3/4 blowjobs given, for 9 3/4 units of marital goodness.  If the parties specialize, the total production is 6 vodka tonics consumed and 5 blowjobs given, or 11 units of marital goodness.  So, we can see how specialization in domestic partnership has some benefits.  Joe and Jane can only maximize their production by doing the task which they are best at, even if the other party is better at that specific task.

In the traditional marriage, there is a fairly high level of specialization.  One partner specializes in domestic production, and the other partner specializes in market production.  Carmella Soprano specializes in making sausage and peppers and taking Anthony Jr. to school, and Anthony Soprano specializes in running an organized crime syndicate to provide for their material needs.  Not surprisingly, studies have shown that  higher degrees of specialization in a marriage correlates with a lower risk of divorce.  Anthony and Carmella Soprano’s roles are so specialized within their marriage that both parties have much more to lose in the event of divorce than Drs. Todd and Stephanie, a married dentist couple with suburban practices and a nanny.

What does it all mean?  It means that I’m no longer going to feel guilty when playing Dragon Age: Origins while my girlfriend does laundry.  The Law of Comparative Advantage compels us to do what we’re best at, and these dragons aren’t going to slay themselves.  And in the end, our greater degrees of specialization ensure that we are actually less likely to divorce than John and Suzie Lickspittle with their “Family Laundry Night.”  Oh, and also, apparently women don’t respect househusbands and dump their asses with alarming frequency .

Hey, baby, while you’re in the kitchen, can you get me a beer?

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