tl;dr: I really hated this book and think it's bad for you. Read a good advice column that reminds you that life is sometimes out of your control, but that you get to ask for things, and you sometimes have to make big changes when you don't get them - like Dear Sugar or Captain Awkward - instead.
full:
This book requires the reader to have these three beliefs:
- Our personalities and behaviors are largely independent of our circumstances. They're determined by our early histories and genes, and can be bucketed into discrete types.
- We independently and individually determine, through our actions, the course and quality of our relationships (including a strong influence over how attracted other people are to us). Our relationships would be stable and hot and emotionally satisfying if we had the right analysis and made the right choices.
- The things in our lives that feel really bad cause long-lasting metaphorical wounds, called trauma, that make us do and feel unhelpful things long into the future until we heal them by acknowledging that a really bad thing happened to us and thinking about it a lot, and if we do a good enough job thinking and talking about our trauma (and/or using other healing techniques correctly), the trauma is healed and we stop doing and feeling unhelpful things.
These assumptions make for nice neat just-so stories about our lives, they are not true, and this book doesn't make sense if you don't buy them.
But a lot of self-help and a bunch of pop psychology rests on these assumptions, and some of that stuff seems to maybe sometimes help people - why do I think this book is so particularly terrible?
Because the ideas in this book prey on the people most likely to get stuck in bad poly relationships. They are exactly the opposite of the ideas those people are most likely to need.
The people who will get excited reading this book are those people who will blame themselves for every problem, who are comforted by the idea that there is something wrong with them that they can fix, and uncomfortable with the idea that their external circumstances (their relationship with their partner, their partner) are bad in a way that they can't fix without making a big change to their life. The people who will resonate most strongly with this book are those who think it's telling them what's wrong with them - they have an insecure attachment style - and who want something identifiable to be wrong with them and someone to tell them how to fix themselves.
I have watched several friends stay in unfulfilling relationships for months beyond what they otherwise would have because of this book, refusing to accept that it's the *relationship* that is insecure - typically because a partner is just not as into them as they are into the partner - and not their attachment style. They'll do a whole bunch of journaling about past relationship betrayals and disappointments and the deaths of people close to them. They'll feel a bunch of big feelings and think that means the framework is doing something for them, and then they'll blame themselves for not working hard enough to fix their insecure attachment style when the relationship eventually falls apart.
I've also watched these friends' partners muscle through this book under pressure from my friends and conclude "wow, what a boring book. But oh good, I have a secure attachment style, I'm a winner, the issues in our relationship are because my partner is traumatized and defective." The less empathetic ones become even less into their partner as a result; the more empathetic ones try to help their partner with the feeling-big-feelings-about-the-past process that doesn't actually improve the relationship. Or worse, they exaggerate how into their partner they are and how stable the relationship is, because they understand their partner to have this defect of insecurity that requires reassurance to fix, and the disconnect between their true feelings and their communication causes all kinds of confusion and pain.
This mismatch in how important the relationship is to each partner is particularly common in non-monogamy. Polyamory is particularly attractive both to people trying to fix themselves with sex and to people who like connecting without becoming particularly attached. And an imbalance is less threatening to a non-monogamous relationship because both people have permission to seek out additional partners who are more into them or who they're more into, without having to end the relationship. So this poison pill in the book's ideas is especially likely to land because of the target audience.
This is not as important, but it annoyed me: Fern's presentation of the science is not the science. The four quadrant attachment theory model Fern presents is an oversimplification of a framework developed to describe infant/caregiver behavior. It comes from the system that observers in the experiments of Mary Ainsworth and her students used to code infant responses - that is, it isn't a pattern that emerges from the data, it's a framework that the researchers imposed on the data prior to gathering observations, in order to apply quantitative analysis to the observations. (The quadrant model doesn't even match those coding systems - researchers went back and forth a bunch about how to classify attachment patterns and none of their answers totally line up with the quadrant model. Quadrants are just a good way to look like an expert in a workshop.)
There are some findings that are pretty solid in attachment research - there's good evidence that consistent caregiver relationships affect a bunch of early childhood outcomes for example - but the different kinds of attachment are vocabulary terms defined to facilitate the research, not research findings themselves. (And, as mentioned, the quadrant model is not the same way of talking about them the research uses.)
Importantly, in this research, attachment is not a kind of personality type that the child has. It's a description of the *relationship* between a child and a particular caregiver. People may have an insecure attachment to one person and a secure attachment to another.
I don't necessarily expect general audience advice books to get the science solid - the uncertainty of an honest account of many corners of scientific understanding makes for an unsatisfying story. I would probably feel more forgiving if the author seemed generally wise and kind and humble - the sort of person to give good advice even if it doesn't come from science. But the author's stories from her own life make it sound to me like she lacks self-awareness and would be totally insufferable to be around. She dunks on all of her partners that she mentions. She spills a lot of ink on how amazing and brilliant and resilient she is, how many lives she's changed, how revolutionary the ideas in the book are, and how revolutionary it is to be poly. She identifies herself as a "genocide researcher" though her only scholarly publication is a single paper she cowrote in grad school. Writing is such a vulnerable and humbling act that it is rare that I can dislike a writer as much as I came to dislike Fern by the end of this book.
Finally, the book promises to translate revolutionary developments in attachment theory to a poly-accessible context. While I don't agree the ideas are revolutionary (or correct), the context that they're translated to is extremely specific - a subculture of mostly white, mostly straight-ish cis men and bi-ish cis women in long-term primary partnerships who sleep around plus a few single satellites, mostly in a financial situation where they're not materially dependent on a partner for survival, mostly college-educated, mostly in an urban enough area where there's an ample menu of available partners. Which, yes, might be the subculture most likely to use the words "poly" or "ethical non-monogamy", and for sure the subculture most likely to attend Fern's webinars or hire her for counseling, but there are a whole ton of other subcultures doing things other than monogamy that the book makes a claim to speak to, but does not do a good job of speaking to. Despite how much the author leans on her childhood experience of poverty for credibility, much of the book just doesn't make sense if you're experiencing economic precarity and have motivations for your relationships that go beyond self-actualization. The text doesn't translate well to folks experiencing transphobia or racism, or communities that are more tightly and materially interconnected, or communities where heterosexual dynamics aren't central.
So: maybe don't read it. And if you do and get really excited, ask yourself if it's because it feels like the book has identified something wrong you can fix about yourself. And then ask yourself - what would I do if that's in the relationship and there's nothing wrong with me?