Thursday, October 13, 2016

Where Are the Men? Pussygate and the Bystander Effect

I had to take some time away and now I'm back and trying to avoid a rage spiral. Like many people, I was really supremely pissed when I heard the recording of Donald Trump and other men saying sexually aggressive and demeaning things about women. I'm mad as hell, but likely not for the reason you might think. Obviously what he said was disgusting and degrading. This point has been made and I don't need to spend too much time covering it. However, as I'm processing my thoughts about everything going on, I can't help but ask myself: where were the other men?

What Donald Trump said is par for the course, not just for him but for many men. When he responded to the criticism by saying it's "locker room talk," unfortunately, I know what he means and I think some athletes who are clapping back by saying "that's not what we talk about in locker rooms" are missing the point (though, arguably, many are not). It is no secret that many cisgender,*  heterosexual** men say derogatory, violent or degrading things to and/or about women around other men. Women, arguably, do this too. Society has normalized violent and derogatory language so much that it has become a part of our everyday vernacular. However, due to the power structure in play in a patriarchal environment, the implications for men using this type of language towards and against women are dangerous and scary. I have been both a witness to and a subject of this behavior and can attest first hand that the significant impact these words and actions have is very real. When a man (in my case this has been almost exclusively white, heterosexual, cisgender males) makes a comment that is violent, derogatory or degrading to me, even if he thinks he is joking, the messages I receive are that my body is something to be objectified and sexualized, my emotional and physical safety are not valued, my voice is not important. At that point, it is clear to me that no matter what I say or how eloquently I address the issues at hand, I have lost the conversation. I am not a person of value in the eyes of the speaker and anything I say, no matter how well-articulated, will be invalidated. It's times like these that I find myself looking around wondering, where are my allies? Where are all the men?

Why is it that groups of intelligent, kind, smart, aware people don't feel comfortable, confident or able to have open conversations with their friends about these social issues? I believe that this is due, in part, to the bystander effect. This concept suggests that people are less likely to step in when there are other people present, most often because of social pressure and a perceived diffusion responsibility (the thinking of "no one else is saying anything so why should I?"). So basically, even if one of the men in that van with Trump was uncomfortable with what he was saying, the desire to fit in, not make anyone else uncomfortable and not heighten his own discomfort seems to have trumped (PUN!) the desire to speak up.

It's important to me to note here that I am not blaming men, or anyone, for the bystander effect. I have been an inactive witness to injustice before and understand that speaking out is not as easy as just saying "what you just said reinforces an oppressive patriarchal/heteronormative/white dominant/classist/ableist/cis-gendered social structure and is disrespectful to women/people of color/people who identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual/people of a lower SES/people who identify as disabled/people who identify as transgender, genderqueer, gender fluid, intersex/etc.." Because that's an easy cool statement to make when someone makes an inappropriate joke at a dinner party, I know. As a woman who holds many privileged identities, I also have to be accountable and figure out how to have similar conversations with people I love, care for and respect. I have to consider how to use my positions of privilege to work towards allyship without coming across as the "social justice police" or projecting some sort of moral high ground (which I certainly do not feel). Call-out culture has its own issues and difficulties and I'm not suggesting that we all go out and start pointing fingers and making people feel bad for making a mistake or being at a different stage of awareness. What I am suggesting is that words are powerful and letting someone know you have their back means something. As an outspoken and opinionated feminist, I have encountered many men who want to talk to me about feminism - some of whom try to tell me what feminism is and is not (*insert side-eye emoji*) but most of whom want to talk about what they can do and how they want to be a part of a culture that recognizes women as equals. I will tell you what I tell them: talking to me about it is great, I love it and I want to support any person who believes in gender and sex equality. But talking to me about feminism, in my humble opinion, isn't enough if you want to make a difference. Talk to your male friends about it. Let them know verbally, and with kindness, when their jokes, words or behaviors reinforce oppressive ideals. Don't put it in the context of "wives" or "sisters" or "mothers" -  my value as a woman does not rest on my relation to other people - but say it from your own perspective. If you truly believe in gender equality, this type of behavior is an affront to your beliefs and values as much as mine. You are in a unique position to make a difference. If you feel safe, please take it.

If you want to learn more about this:, Jackson Katz is an excellent resource. Here's a TED talk he did about male accountability and violence against women.

In closing, here's a quote from bell hooks, one of the most awe-inspiring scholars and writers I've come across:

After hundreds of years of anti-racist struggles, more than ever before non-white people are currently calling attention to the primary role white people must play in an anti-racist struggle.  The same is true to eradicate sexism - men have a primary role to play...in particular, men have a tremendous contribution to make...in the area of exposing, confronting, opposing and transforming the sexism of their male peers.
*mic drop*

*I don't have the experience or knowledge to speak to transgender men in this case, though I imagine their lived experiences and intersectionality would make this conversation quite different and don't want to assume universality for all men.

**Again, I don't have the experience to speak to this issue outside of a heteronormative framework. I do not want to reinforce heteronormativity and am, unfortunately, limited in the scope of my lived experience in this case.

No comments:

Post a Comment