Cheating is a rich and complex tapestry.

For such pedestrian behaviour, it is also uniquely intimate. Yet we apply broad, prescriptive terminology – cheating, infidelity, adultery – to these acts of intimate rule-breaking.

And when we apply those catchall terms, where is there room for the equally rich, complex and unique emotions of the parties involved? Where is there room to explore how exactly the injured feel insulted, or conversely, how those who have injured feel about their insulting act? 

The language we use does not solely dictate the way we think, but it does compel us to think a certain way. When we have precise language for events, colours, directions, even gender, it makes cognition and communication related to those things easier; we are inherently obliged to understand the concepts the language relates to in order to use it in the first place.

When we don’t have precise language for a concept, we rely on less descriptive language - often obscuring nuance– or we undertake the onerous task of having to actively understand the concept in its entirety.

The same can be said for our use of the word cheating. When we rely on an umbrella term such as cheating, we allow ourselves to homogenise specific acts and behaviours within the concept, as well as disregard acts and behaviours outside the label of cheating. This reliance deprives us of any impetus to develop a deeper vocabulary to articulate the intricacies of the human condition.

And so for an event as harmful, intimate, and above all, ubiquitous as cheating, why do we rely on such a dictatorial term.   

It’s one of the first things Clinical Psychologist, David Chong says to me when we begin talking about cheating. With over 35 years of experience as a clinical psychologist and psychotherapist, he is well versed in the complexities of intimate relationships.

Chong tells me cheating doesn’t exist as a clinical term and instead refers to “conflict due to misalignment of assumptions”. He says, in many relationships, there are very little to no discussions about what the relationship should look like.

Jenny van Hoof is a Senior Lecturer of Sociology at Manchester Metropolitan University and her research substantiates the absence of these discussions in relationships. She says monogamy in relationships is often assumed and not usually openly discussed, “indeed sexual exclusivity is understood implicitly and explicitly as a sign of commitment to a relationship”.

Chong says there is more freedom for people who identify within the LGBTQI+ framework to have a dialogue about their relationship. He also acknowledges, “…even within that group, the negotiation might start in the beginning but [moving forward] there is not really a ritualistic review about what it looks like”.

Colin is 65 years old and has been with his long-term companion for more than 30 years. He's in the rare and fortunate position of being in an intimate relationship where these kinds of ritualistic reviews occur.

Chong says every person should create a set of parameters about what is appropriate or not in their relationship or exclusive agreement. But the question remains whether every transgression of that compact constitutes an act of cheating.

Chong notes the myriad questions arising from defining infidelity.

If cheating is personally defined and can be any form of intimate betrayal, then it necessarily has to be a diverse concept.

The definitions of cheating are as unique as each individual...

Outside of these definitions of cheating, lies the gamut of human behaviours that can damage a relationship.

And whether these acts are as overt as an addiction or as subtle as an accumulation of slights, in time, they can be as painful and equally as harmful to a relationship as cheating.

Relying on a hypernym to categorise behaviour allows for two things to happen.

First, it allows someone who cheats the opportunity to distance themselves from the specific act of cheating.

Often cheaters will not describe their act of cheating in discussion but refer to it as ‘that time,’ or ‘that thing I did.’ ‘When I cheated…’ is a lot easier to say than – for example – ‘when I chose to value the tea breaks I have with my co-worker over our life together…’

And while brevity is also a key player in this choice of wording, Reilly-Brown, says it’s mainly a way for the person who cheated to dissociate from their act of betrayal.

“They will use those expressions to distance themselves because a) they don’t want to own it, because b) they don’t want to be thought bad of, or [because c)] they feel so bad.”

Secondly, relying on the term cheating distracts from deeper level discussions.

“To me, cheating is just the symptom… what’s really painful is the cause,” says Reilly-Browne.

She continues, “Cheating can have myriad expressions.”

According to van Hoof, worse than the physical act of infidelity is the “great betrayal [of] being deceived or deceiving one’s partner”. Similarly, Reilly Browne says it’s the behaviours leading up to an act of betrayal, and the aftermath of those behaviours, which are most cruel.

The sensationalised nature and element of fear attached to the term cheating is recurrent in research regarding the concept.

In a paper discussing the increased likelihood of affairs during the coronavirus pandemic, researchers Kristina Coop Gordon and Erica A. Mitchell note, “Infidelity is a very stigmatized phenomenon and carries a lot of social shame for couples who experience it”.

Reilly-Browne likens cheating to cancer, in that the fear associated with it is felt regardless of categorisation or severity.

There is a reason we ask for more information when faced with a cancer diagnosis; it is this supplementary information that dictates an appropriate response.

It’s unlikely your ongoing response to an early breast cancer diagnosis would be the same as your response to metastatic pancreatic cancer. And while not dismissing the level of devastation or fear associated with either diagnosis, the difference in survival rates is undeniably vast. The five-year relatable survival rates are 100% and 1%, respectively.

Much like cheating, the initial category or severity of a cancer is not necessarily prescriptive, your chances of survival can wax or wane depending on your course of treatment.

If we mechanically responded to the word cancer in the same way we respond to word cheating – taking the word at face value and without inquisition – we would cause unnecessary confusion and pain, or even exacerbate the original problem.

A simple case of breast cancer wouldn’t be treated with the same intensive therapies as pancreatic cancer, so why do we treat all instances of cheating as cruel or sociopathic?

“The intricacies of love and desire don’t yield to simple categorizations of good and bad, victim and perpetrator,” says famed psychotherapist, Esther Perel in an essay for The Atlantic.

“Love is messy; infidelity, more so.”

So what is the alternative?

Should we simply retire the term cheating? And instead name the specific manifestations of dyadic betrayal:  

Katherine Rose Haus - in her Master of Science thesis, ‘An examination of sexual fantasy and infidelity’ - says, “What people learn early on can serve to inform their sexual and relationship practices throughout the rest of their lives”.

Back to Lucy:

“Everyone has the same knee jerk reaction to cheating, calling it sadistic and cruel and evil, I found that out the hard way.”

Cheating has been branded as being ever fatal to a relationship, and deleterious to the self-worth and reputation of both the cheater and the cheatee. However, it is the acts we don’t consider within that category and don’t treat with the same gravity that can be so pernicious.

By developing and utilising a deeper emotional vocabulary, we can reject pre-defined acts of betrayal and instead define those acts for ourselves. When we remove the narrative around cheating we reject the societal compulsion to outright denounce it and instead give equal weight to all forms of dyadic betrayal. Then we can prioritise nuance and understanding in the ever so common acts of betrayal that occur in intimate relationships.

Chong says that even in a perfect world, "people are going to do whatever they want to do.” Ultimately, it is not about excising betrayal from intimate relationships, but rather having the tools to appropriately address the causes and consequences of those behaviours.

Cheating can be fatal - but you should be free to decide that for yourself.