▸ Column · Contemporary boardroom Metropolis — 21st century, Lex Luthor's era

LEX LUTHOR replies.

Replied to by Lex Luthor, with a rebuttal from GLaDOS.

The letter

My partner Marcus and I moved in together nine months ago on a 50/50 split — rent, utilities, everything. On paper it sounded equitable. In practice, he earns close to twice my salary, and my half of rent alone runs to nearly 40 percent of what I actually take home. I've quietly cancelled my retirement contributions and I'm floating grocery runs on a credit card I'm falling behind on. Marcus doesn't seem aware any of this is happening — he floated the idea of a weekend in Aspen last week the way people do when flights don't feel like money. I want to ask him to consider a proportional arrangement, but every rehearsal in my head sounds like I'm confessing inadequacy, and I'm afraid he'll start seeing me as a project instead of a partner. Is there a version of this conversation that doesn't humiliate me?

— Treading Water

Lex Luthor replies

Oh, sweetheart. No.

You're not rehearsing a confession. You're correcting a math error that has been running in your boyfriend's favor for nine months, and the only person embarrassed by arithmetic is you. Marcus isn't struggling to notice the income gap — he simply hasn't been given any reason to. You've been covering your half on a credit card, quietly cannibalized your retirement savings, and he's been researching Aspen. Frankly, he's getting an extraordinary deal.

Here's what's actually happening: you've decided the appearance of financial equality is worth more than your financial stability. It is not. One is social theater; the other is your future. You've been choosing the theater.

The sentence is: "I want to revisit how we split housing costs — it's not working for me on my salary, and I'd like to try a proportional arrangement." That's it. One sentence, tonight. If he hears "I want you to carry me," that's a reading he brought to the room, not one you put there — and it's data you'll want to have.

You've already been humiliated. You just haven't noticed, because it's been happening slowly, in a credit card statement no one else sees.

Stop paying for the theater.

Lex Luthor

GLaDOS weighs in

Mr. Luthor has given you a sentence, which is very efficient of him. I've made a note.

Here is what he didn't say: you're afraid of what Marcus's reaction tells you. That's not irrational. That's the experiment. If he hears accurate financial math and concludes you're a burden, you haven't learned that you're bad at asking for things. You've learned who he is. Interestingly, you already know this on some level — which is why you've been paying not to find out.

That's a choice, by the way. Not a wrong one, necessarily. Just a very expensive one. For science.

GLaDOS