Some promises are more than just words.
Some choices are more than just love.
Marriage, in its deepest form, is not only a private union—it is a signal sent to the world.
A signal of intention.
A signal of commitment.
A signal that says: I choose not just you, but everything that comes with you. The risk. The future. The cost.
In economics, signaling is how we reveal truth when words alone won’t do. A job candidate earns a degree—not just for knowledge, but to signal perseverance. A company spends on branding—not just for recognition, but to signal trust. And in this light, marriage becomes one of the most powerful signals we can send.
Because it is costly.
Not just in money, but in freedom.
It binds your legal identity to someone else. It exposes you to risk. It comes with consequences, formal and social. Only those who are serious will pay that price.
So when someone chooses marriage, they are not merely expressing affection.
They are broadcasting credibility.
Marriage says: I am not here for the short term.
It says: You can plan around me. Build with me. Grow with me.
It tells families, employers, lenders, and courts that this relationship carries weight—not just emotion, but structure.
And that matters.
Because in a world full of ambiguity—half-spoken intentions, provisional cohabitations, relationships defined by “we’ll see”—marriage cuts through the fog. It creates clarity. Not because it guarantees forever, but because it says: I meant it at the start. Enough to be held accountable.
But like any signal, marriage can weaken.
When divorce becomes too easy, or when the institution itself becomes hollowed by cynicism or casualness, the signal blurs. People no longer know what it means when someone marries. Is it real commitment—or just ceremony? Is it permanence—or performance?
And so the law, in its quiet background role, becomes crucial.
It’s not that the law creates love—but it sustains the meaning of the signal.
By making exit harder, the law gives weight to entrance.
By enforcing promises, it gives value to vows.
That’s why cultures throughout history—regardless of religion or region—have always surrounded marriage with ritual, consequence, and public recognition. Because a signal must be seen. And believed.
And for many, the signal of marriage is not just about the couple.
It’s about the children who will depend on that union.
It’s about the community who will trust that bond to hold through seasons of strain.
It’s about saying: We are not just in love. We are building something we want to last.
That’s why some still choose marriage when they don’t have to.
Not because it’s required. But because they want the world to know: This matters.
And that’s the signal that still shines through.
Even now.
Even quietly.
Even when the culture forgets its cost.
To marry is not just to feel deeply—it is to say, clearly: I am here. With you. For the long haul. And I am willing to be known by that promise.
That is the signal.
And when it is true—it changes everything.