IN 1989, I was a junior staffer at The New Republic, which was then, in the pre-internet age, the single weekly magazine of political opinion in Washington.
The subject of what were then called “domestic partnerships” for gay couples came up. New York City had proposed them. I was the only gay in that journalistic village, and after a while of listening to the others I simply said: “Why don’t we all just get over it and give gays marriage? Isn’t that the conservative thing to do?”
I should have kept quiet, but my liberal editor instantly knew that would drive some Republicans crazy and told me to write a piece on those lines. I hesitated, partly because I wasn’t completely out of the closet to my family or the wider world.