Do you know why you trust whom you trust?

Why do we trust whom we trust? Why do we refuse to trust sometimes? Experience (with the persons in questions) is a big part of it, but not always. And what does this mean for our relationships?

One source of trust is us belonging to a group (or tribe, or nation). Some inter-disciplinary researchers have established that we tend to be altruistic within these groups, and less so between the groups. This is called ‘parochial’. On average, we tend to make choices of benefit to our group (even when conflicting with the choice that benefits all groups), out of a sense of duty. People perceive that they got something from their nation or group, so have a duty to give back.

There are some benefits of organizing our trust in this way. It is more ‘efficient’ in the short term; agreements are easier to enforce in a group with limited membership.

But when you are looking for your significant other, parochialism isn’t the smartest thing. It segments the world. Selecting your best possible mate just within your segment won’t likely find you the best possible mate in the world.

Got money?

Who has got the money in your relationship? I mean, who has the capital? – The man, the woman? Who do you think has it in most male-female interactions?

Well, I am not talking money as in bucks or accounts. I am talking about assets much closer to a relationship: sexual capital. With the cold, indifferent mind of the economist, we need to acknowledge that the woman has it. Always had.

Here is why. There are markets for sexuality. Let’s leave values and emotions to one side just for a minute and imagine that sex is a commodity that can be sold and bought. Well, it can. There is prostitution, there is pornography, and both can be lucrative trades. Some economists even argue that marriage is a lifelong contract about selling sex. In the vast majority of cases, it is the man that is buying and paying a price, and the woman that is selling and receiving the money. Occasionally a man is selling, too, but usually to a man, and the market for that is pretty small. The big market for sex is women selling to men; visual material, audio material and physical actions. (And the marriage bed. There is evidence of monetary returns to marriage for women, but not men.) In short, the sexuality of a woman is an asset. It can be hired out and sold. The sexuality of a man – cannot.

Let this sink in for a while, ladies. YOU have got the capital. And you largely have control over the price: your offer is in short supply and men’s demand is, hm, high. Higher than you think. Higher than they want you to think, possibly. And you can regulate your supply. Here is a secret: any signal of scarcity increases the price. This is the whole secret behind guys wanting a woman that hasn’t had many men: a signal that her capital is in scarce supply. True, it matters if you are surrounded by willing or less willing sisters, but you are much less substitutable than you think. And, paradoxically, scarcity signals make you less substitutable.

In countries where women don’t have much power they still hold sexual capital – and treasure it all the more. Hence the high regard for virginity in these places: a scarcity signal so strong it suggests a monopoly. Non-virgins don’t need to worry though; sexual capital is a renewable resource. As far as signaling goes, virgin is as virgin does (not did).