Marriage has evolved — why haven’t proposals done so?

Dear Miss Manners: A young lady I know happily posted the news that she and a young man have ordered custom-designed wedding rings, and that she is making a wedding guest list and discussing venues with her mother.

Concurrent with all of this, she insists that she is not officially engaged because he “hasn’t asked her yet.”

I am baffled. When and why did a ritual of proposal, always defined as “him asking her,” become the final determinant of an engagement, if planning a wedding does not qualify? And why is it always him asking her, never her asking him?

Another young woman recently giddily announced “He proposed!” — a year or so after the birth of their child. Aside from the chronological illogic of this (from my perspective), I am bothered by the social implications for the status of women.

Are they really ceding the final decision-making power in their relationship to men? Will they soon put the word “obey” back into the vows? It seems that the vital importance placed on the ritual of a proposal has grown in inverse proportion to women’s status as equals in a partnership. I cannot understand why this has happened.

When my parents got married, it was a mutual decision, but married women were always called Mrs. Husband’s Name (first and last). Women disappeared into marriage at the same time that we didn’t make a fetish of “his asking.”

Maybe I just answered my own question. Perhaps women are hanging onto a vestige of what they imagine to be a “man’s place” — some sort of quaint custom, similar to the middle-aged bride being “given away.” If so, they are being awfully silly and inconsistent. Some of these young women may be heads of corporations, but they are still waiting for “him” to propose.

Why can’t they see the nonsense in this? Or do they, and I am taking it too seriously? It bothers me not to understand cultural mores and I am hoping you can shine some light on this for me.

Gentle reader: Yes, you answered the question. The lady is not waiting anxiously to see if he will have her. Rather, he is the anxious one, knowing that he must stage a performance for an audience of more than one.

Fond as Miss Manners is of tradition, even anachronistic tradition, she wishes people would follow the spirit of the gestures they copy — or parody, as with those hokey proposals. As you point out, those forms were designed for a frank patriarchy. (The bended knee was a theatrical cliche, not a cultural practice.)

If the bride is to be given away, it should be by one parent, or both. Yet many Gentle Readers objected when Miss Manners solved an “absent biological father vs. attentive stepfather” dispute by saying both should step aside in favor of the mother. Her reply to those who said that would insult the stepfather, who had been with the bride since childhood, is that the mother was with her even longer.

Dear Miss Manners: I’ve been in a bridge club for over 10 years. We have 12 members, and we get together about once a month.

Prior to the last couple of years, the host provided dinner and drinks. It was great! You had a night off and enjoyed someone else’s hospitality and cooking. When it was your turn to host, you repaid the favor.

But now it has become more of a potluck evening. The problem is that the same few people always seem to be bringing the pots! I often bring an enticing, creative dish, only to have someone else bring a bottle of sparkling water, or nothing at all.

Is there a way to even the workload among us without pointing fingers or hurting feelings?

Gentle reader: If you have mastered bridge scoring, solving this problem should be easy, as it uses the same skills.

Miss Manners herself prefers the simplicity of a host fulfilling the hostly obligations. But she recognizes that a game night is less formal, and that your club may prefer a more even workload. (Potluck is something of a misnomer; what you describe is a cooperative meal.)

It is time for a new scorecard, this one showing people, months and courses: main course, appetizers, desserts. The underlying principle — that the workload should be distributed — is so evidently fair that when you propose it, the cheaters are unlikely to object. You may even be congratulated for simplifying everyone’s lives.