Why we must not talk of infidelity only as betrayal

Culture and cosmos

It was a fleeting moment involving a CEO and his HR head during a Coldplay concert in Boston, broadcast on the stadium’s jumbotron. Within 48 hours, the clip went viral, garnering over 30 million views on TikTok and sparking severe repercussions amid outrage. A private moment turned public scapegoating – a staggering 89% of Americans disapprove of affairs – and framed the incident as a moral failure in infidelity. What this moment reveals is not the secret life of cheaters. It highlights the emotional complexity of modern relationships and how we often misunderstand fidelity as the sole measure of relational health. Sexual exclusivity is important in creating psychological safety, but dimensions such as emotional intimacy, communication quality, and mutual respect are equally critical for relational health. Perhaps that’s why nearly 70% of couples choose to stay together after infidelity, reporting greater emotional closeness during repair.

Infidelity is common yet often underreported. About 12 million men and 7.8 million women in the US have cheated. A YouGov-Ashley Madison survey found that 53% of Indian adults admitted to an affair. This highlights how desire and dissatisfaction can linger beneath societal conformity.

Even happy couples face infidelity. Many individuals cheat not to abandon their partners but to escape their dissatisfaction due to stagnation, loneliness, or the burden of domestic invisibility. Affairs enable a reconnection with one’s personal vitality, identity, and autonomy; they emerge during life transitions as a response to existential drift. The kiss-cam moment is also about how much technology is infringing on our privacy and is redefining intimacy. Infidelity now involves WhatsApp messages, AI companions, or late-night scrolls of pornography. In India, 40% of married respondents confessed to “digital affairs”, dismissed as harmless fun (cities leading in these affairs include Kanchipuram, Delhi, Pune, and Bengaluru). Emotional secrecy can erode the attention partners offer each other. This reflects a broader paradox: a society that sanctifies marriage, yet fails to nurture emotional attunement.

Cultural interpretations of infidelity vary. The French would smirk at the puritanical drama of American sexual peccadilloes. In France, infidelity is viewed as a lapse in exclusivity, not necessarily a collapse in love. Indian wives cite emotional neglect, “I felt invisible,” not sexual dissatisfaction, as the primary driver of infidelity. In America, women report “feeling more alive,” and for men, the pull is more commonly tied to opportunity and novelty. In the UK, over half of those who cheated reported boredom.

The aftermath of betrayal is costly. Infidelity is closely associated with poorer mental health, particularly among betrayed partners, 78% of whom manifest depression, anxiety, and PTSD.

Gender and power dynamics complicate infidelity. In societies where women have limited agency, infidelity may be less a personal choice and more a result of coercion. In India, Brazil, Bolivia, and Mexico, female infidelity – real or imagined – is often a trigger for domestic violence. Under the pretext of protecting women, romantic relationships can become opportunities to manipulate women into affairs, using their transgressions as tools for control through shame or blackmail. In patriarchal cultures, men may engage in affairs to boost their ego, reaffirm their masculinity, enhance their social status, and project an image of a thriving marriage. In impoverished countries, concerns about infidelity may seem trivial compared to the struggle to provide food for children. We often reduce infidelity to a binary of sinner and saint. But what if the cheater was someone aching for closeness, and met with coldness? What if the “faithful” partner had emotionally checked out years earlier? What if the affair was a symptom of a deeper, mutual disengagement and slow erosion of affection? The individual who cheats becomes the scapegoat for a dysfunction that was co-created.

Models of fidelity vary. In the US, some couples choose open relationships or polyamory that prioritise transparency over exclusivity. Yet America’s moral absolutism makes public dialogue about desire fraught with hypocrisy. It makes one wonder how many among the disapproving millions have strayed, or stayed silent about betrayals. Fidelity, in truth, is less a static rule than a moving target – one shaped by love, context, and consent. Infidelity isn’t always a moral collapse. Sometimes, it’s a maladaptive attempt to resuscitate one’s emotional life. As painful as affairs are, as a psychologist who works with couples, I’ve discovered they expose what couples avoid: unfinished conversations, neglected inner worlds, and unmet longings. To talk about infidelity only as betrayal is to miss the point.

In a culture of increasing disconnection, it’s time to expand our language to allow for the complexity of connection. To explore not just what fidelity is, but what it’s for. In the rubble of a scandal, there is sometimes a path to truth, intimacy, and the courage to begin again.