For nearly 60 years, divorce laws in America and those who enforce them have inflicted untold suffering on spouses seeking to preserve their marriage and families. Mary Bowen, a 67-year-old elementary school teacher, is the latest victim.
After her husband of nearly 30 years filed for divorce, she brought an action in federal court challenging the constitutionality of Texas’ no-fault divorce statute. She contends the law discriminates in favor of those abandoning their marriages and infringes upon her deeply held religious beliefs. These laws clearly violate due process as well; defendants never win and aren’t afforded sufficient procedural safeguards.
“He is ripping a marriage apart,” Bowen told me when we spoke about her husband. “It’s a form of abortion. Nobody gets over it.”
Yet marriage constitutes a fundamental right. While it has been protected legally through application of the 14th Amendment, the right actually derives from natural law. No-fault divorce exists in all 50 states. In 48, the laws are unilateral, annihilating the right of marriage by granting divorce on the demand of only one spouse, without cause, no questions asked. Consequently, courts force the division of property and children.
The toll has been catastrophic. Men, women, and children suffer on every level of wellness — physical, emotional, and financial. Negative consequences include poverty, suicide, depression, substance abuse, juvenile delinquency, decreased longevity, trauma — you name it. Fatherless homes persist. Family breakdown is associated with school shooters. Children are not OK, and research debunks the myth of the “resilient child,” with suffering extending well into adulthood.
No-fault divorce also helped drive the marriage rate to its lowest point in history, even though marriage produces flourishing families and safe communities. And far too many people are divorced against their will.
“No-fault divorce is ripe for a constitutional challenge,” said an attorney for the Thomas More Society, which filed an amicus curiae brief on behalf of a family breakdown expert in a similar constitutional challenge.
Meanwhile, it’s a national scandal nobody wants to address, including many conservatives, even though the judicial system sides with spouses who abandon their families. Dare to speak up, and those in charge of the system will also galvanize to bring you down. The pressure can be relentless.
After getting the run-around in state court when she tried to file her papers, Bowen turned to the federal court for help, only to have the Texas attorney general’s office pop up and file a motion to force her back to state court so the divorce could move forward. A federal judge agreed. Bowen’s appeal is pending.
If she loses, will the attorney general’s office try to stop Bowen from raising her claims in state court too? The office ignored my emails offering an opportunity to weigh in.
Bowen and her husband married in the Catholic Church, which considers marriage to be for life. “I never had any doubt that my marriage was ordained and that I’m married to the person that God chose for me,” Bowen said.
Indeed, the Supreme Court has held that “[m]arriage is sacred to those who live by their religions.”
But marriage “standers” in our culture, like Bowen, are routinely called “crazy.” And states like Texas mandate enforcement of their laws, which hold that marriage is impermanent. Some courts practically jeer at spouses who even bring it up. In Maryland, for example, an appeals court recently struck down claims that no-fault divorce infringed upon a husband’s religious rights and belief in marriage permanency. The court pointed out that Toufic Melki was still free to exercise his “constitutional prerogative” and pretend he and his wife were still married.
Mike Dycus, who lost his Nebraska constitutional challenge, told me a judge jailed him for contempt when he refused to sign divorce papers that contravened his Catholic beliefs.
Before she retired, a divorced and remarried Jewish Brooklyn court judge reportedly threatened a rabbi that if he didn’t give his wife a religious “get” allowing her to remarry, she’d make him pay alimony for life.
After retaining two attorneys and feeling like they ignored her wishes, Bowen now represents herself. She’s terrified and overwhelmed and feels like she’s being pulled along on a conveyor belt. She recently established a GiveSendGo account because she needs financial help. Pro se spouses like her are routinely treated unfairly and looked down upon by judges too.
Decades ago, Judith Brumbaugh, one of the first such pioneers, wrote a memoir about the judicial system’s hostility toward her. She was ordered to vacate her home, became nearly destitute, and built a faith-based ministry to help families, which is still active after her death.
Actor and producer Greg Ellis wrote a harrowing portrait of the family law system, which seemingly overnight dismantled his family, career, and finances. He was eventually exonerated.
At 67, Bowen has no time to “reinvent” herself and worries she’ll lose her home, along with half her “meager teacher retirement.” Research supports her fears.
“My father fought in World War II,” she told me. “This is my country. This is my freedom, my liberty. That judge? He’s my public servant.”
Jeff Morgan, who filed a constitutional challenge to Texas’ no-fault divorce law a few months before Bowen, can’t get a judge to hear his case. Four Texas judges in rapid succession voluntarily recused themselves, without explanation. Like Bowen, he’s in limbo and hopes his health holds out. He told me he’s already had one heart attack scare, which his doctor attributed to stress.
So why are judges and lawyers across the nation so gung-ho to sever marriages, protect parties who walk out on their marriage and families, and skewer the innocent? It’s not hard to make an educated guess.
The passage of no-fault divorce brought an explosion of the matrimonial bar and skyrocketing divorce rates. Ten years ago, estimates placed the value of this profit-driven industry at $50 billion a year — a cash cow built off the backs of broken American families.
Despite what they’ve gone through, Bowen and Morgan still pray for reconciliation. And, no, that doesn’t make them crazy either. Most marriages are low-conflict with good chances for reconciliation. That even goes for spouses in seemingly impossibly difficult marriages.
But even if she and her husband fail to reunite, Bowen says her constitutional challenge isn’t all about her.
“If this’ll help one person besides me, it’ll have been worth it,” she said tearfully.
