Eugene Ford/Cascadia Counselling Clinic
In my experience as a clinician in the family violence sector, I have often found that the most enlightening part of the journey for men and women that have been involved in conflict is when their awareness grows from the recognition that escalated behaviour is ‘negative’, to a truer understanding of what constitutes violence and how it can occur, an awareness I believe to be critical for a long term avoidance of violence during conflict.
Although my career within the sector has been relatively short, I have been fortunate enough to transition from frontline violence prevention case management in Australia to group work and one-on-one counselling in Canada; contrasting experiences which have highlighted differences between the polemic around family violence in both countries. One difference amongst many that I have noticed in Canada – more differences will be expanded upon in other articles – is a willingness to analyse all nuances of relational violence, including bilateral violence, with an awareness that having a ‘deeper understanding’ of violence is critical for combating violence on a micro (individual) and macro (public) level. From what I have witnessed in Australia, I would argue that conversations about family violence are very much ‘stuck’ in a continual reiteration that violence is wrong, with the current platforms for advocacy and activism representing the limited understanding that the Australian public don’t have, or refuse to have, of relational violence. This article will come across as ‘against men’ for the very reason in Australia, conversations about family violence are almost always about men, reiterating the idea that some men are ‘good’ whilst others are ‘bad’ with no clear differentiation between the two.
In Australia, my transition to the family violence sector began when domestic violence was gathering steam as a discussion point across Australia. The deaths of Jill Meagher in 2012, followed by the murder of Luke Batty at the hands of his father Greg Anderson in 2014, highlighted the predatory nature of sexual and domestic violence to the Australian public, instilling a feeling that no one was safe while prompting urgent calls for ‘something to be done’ in preventing violence. The televised debates, newspaper articles and documentaries that followed soon after did little to offer a model of prevention, instead embellishing on a monster myth and reinforcing the image of stereotypically violent men who were beyond help.
The nuances of family violence were rarely discussed, nor recommendations for how to effectively work with the men. When methods of violence prevention were mentioned - case management, men’s behaviour change programs & counselling - conversations quickly turned to why these methods were not effective, as opposed why they were, indirectly giving the message that no interventions were effective to working with men who were beyond help. So too was a message given that by offering support, clinicians were falling victim to the men’s manipulation by believing that there are reasons underpinning their misuse of power and control, losing sight of those suffering violence and falling prey to what filmmaker Claude Lanzmann described as “the obscenity in the very project of understanding”[1].
Clinicians in the sector could read between the lines of the general discourse on family violence to consider why the response was the way it was (which is not to say that some clinicians were not influenced by the common perceptions of ‘violent men’). The defensive mechanism, for example, would suggest that taking such an emboldened stance is more for the individual to reassure themselves that they sit – emotionally, psychologically and spiritually – far away from any capacity to use violence, and less for the benefit of those falling victim in the first place. After the emotional and physical fallout of having experienced violence, survivors are often left wanting more than a reiteration that violence ‘should not be happening’ in the first place. The next thought is often on what can be done to prevent violence happening in the future (based upon conversations that I have been privy too). To repeat that violence is ‘wrong’ and that its perpetrators are ‘thugs’ indirectly implies that warning signs are obvious and violence avoidable, thereby rubbing more salt in the wound.
Nature abhors a vacuum, and with no strategies for violence prevention readily known, many are left to fill in the gaps themselves. As the polemic on family violence had gathered momentum through raising awareness it can be assumed, quite rightly, that raising more awareness will assist in some way. Although understandable, this belief is both limiting and problematic; limiting when it is assumed that awareness assists with violence prevention on the ground, problematic when it is believed there is no other way to be involved.
As a clinician, I will admit that I am uncertain of the role that raising awareness plays in violence prevention, due in part from having experienced disinterest and resistance from others when I have spoken of frontline work. Analysing the light and shades of relational violence makes for difficult conversations, to the extent that the resistance to be engaged in these discussions – which, ironically, is often reframed as being for the good of violence prevention or for those that have experienced abuse – can overshadow the information that leads to violence prevention. A colleague I once worked with likened the growing resistance as being similar to the build-up of water against a levee; if the resistance was to lessen then the information will pour out, including stories that prove ‘violent men’ to be just ‘men’, information on bilateral violence and, within this, the path to violence prevention. My uncertainty about raising awareness also stems from a growing cynicism with the self-congratulatory way that some men have embraced advocacy, and in turn, the public’s support of these men; a black and white style of thinking and believing which I believe underpin some instances of violence in the first place.
By applauding one person for his stance ‘against’ violence, there is a risk that a new (or renewed) sense of entitlement may follow soon after, with subconscious expectations for how others should respond due to the part that is being played in violence prevention. Although entitlement is often overlooked when discussing family violence, I do not believe it needs to be named for us to know how and why it is problematic; on a micro level male entitlement creates expectations in a relationship of how things ‘should’ be and how men ‘should’ be treated, on a macro level it affords men the right to walk through parks at night without fear and to wear whatever they want without others ‘belief’ that the wardrobe sends a ‘message’. Considering this, would not placing a man on a pedestal fuel the sense that he is ‘different’ and ‘better’ than other men? How may he feel as a result of this? How may he feel when told by others, perhaps a partner or friend, that he hasn’t been respectful? How may he feel, and react, when told that his actions are not up to scratch? Assuming that the goal is to minimise risk of harm to women and children, then strategies for raising awareness should avoid fostering more entitlement and expectation in men.
Before considering another reason why self-congratulation is problematic, it should be highlighted that men need to practise respectful, non-violent and equal communication in intimate relationships, friendships and in the workplace, before challenging others on sexist attitudes and beliefs, becoming involved in advocacy or taking a well-known stance against violence. The current platforms for men to be involved in advocacy however, suggest that the gap between what we know of an advocate’s personal life and what they represent in public is acceptable, as long their stance is visibly against violence (the film clip for Colleen Hewitt’s song Shut Up and Let Me Breath comes to mind, as does the White Ribbon pledge). In these instances, the willingness to applaud those for standing against violence makes it difficult to analyse what is underpinning these methods of advocacy, and to look critically at those involved.
A final point to consider is for the possibility that the idea of a ‘violent man’ is used as a scapegoat for the individual to project their own insecurities and self-doubt as to their potential to abuse power and control (as mentioned before) whilst the idea that the ‘normal man’ serves as a scapegoat for the individual’s unwillingness to truly be involved in violence prevention. A stance against violence that reinforces the ‘us and them’ stereotype, whilst reiterating qualities of respect, appreciation and equality, does not contribute to eliminating violence against women and children, rather it gives a message that these qualities are less common than we assume, casting blame onto ‘the man on the street’ for contributing to violence whilst taking focus off ourselves from being truly engaged in prevention.
Awareness is invaluable to an extent, however when considering that actions truly do speak louder than words, the path to combatting violence becomes more clear; it involves the modelling of respect and displaying of pro-feminist values with partners, loved ones, friends, wider family and colleagues, it involves an awareness of male privilege and the refusal to exploit the privileges it affords men, it involves the gentle challenging of others on their sexism and the encouragement of pro-feminist values in any way possible and finally, when starting a conversation about family violence, it involves the commitment to illuminating the path to violence prevention.
[1] https://prezi.com/l4sevlrznx0h/the-obscenity-of-understanding/
Although my career within the sector has been relatively short, I have been fortunate enough to transition from frontline violence prevention case management in Australia to group work and one-on-one counselling in Canada; contrasting experiences which have highlighted differences between the polemic around family violence in both countries. One difference amongst many that I have noticed in Canada – more differences will be expanded upon in other articles – is a willingness to analyse all nuances of relational violence, including bilateral violence, with an awareness that having a ‘deeper understanding’ of violence is critical for combating violence on a micro (individual) and macro (public) level. From what I have witnessed in Australia, I would argue that conversations about family violence are very much ‘stuck’ in a continual reiteration that violence is wrong, with the current platforms for advocacy and activism representing the limited understanding that the Australian public don’t have, or refuse to have, of relational violence. This article will come across as ‘against men’ for the very reason in Australia, conversations about family violence are almost always about men, reiterating the idea that some men are ‘good’ whilst others are ‘bad’ with no clear differentiation between the two.
In Australia, my transition to the family violence sector began when domestic violence was gathering steam as a discussion point across Australia. The deaths of Jill Meagher in 2012, followed by the murder of Luke Batty at the hands of his father Greg Anderson in 2014, highlighted the predatory nature of sexual and domestic violence to the Australian public, instilling a feeling that no one was safe while prompting urgent calls for ‘something to be done’ in preventing violence. The televised debates, newspaper articles and documentaries that followed soon after did little to offer a model of prevention, instead embellishing on a monster myth and reinforcing the image of stereotypically violent men who were beyond help.
The nuances of family violence were rarely discussed, nor recommendations for how to effectively work with the men. When methods of violence prevention were mentioned - case management, men’s behaviour change programs & counselling - conversations quickly turned to why these methods were not effective, as opposed why they were, indirectly giving the message that no interventions were effective to working with men who were beyond help. So too was a message given that by offering support, clinicians were falling victim to the men’s manipulation by believing that there are reasons underpinning their misuse of power and control, losing sight of those suffering violence and falling prey to what filmmaker Claude Lanzmann described as “the obscenity in the very project of understanding”[1].
Clinicians in the sector could read between the lines of the general discourse on family violence to consider why the response was the way it was (which is not to say that some clinicians were not influenced by the common perceptions of ‘violent men’). The defensive mechanism, for example, would suggest that taking such an emboldened stance is more for the individual to reassure themselves that they sit – emotionally, psychologically and spiritually – far away from any capacity to use violence, and less for the benefit of those falling victim in the first place. After the emotional and physical fallout of having experienced violence, survivors are often left wanting more than a reiteration that violence ‘should not be happening’ in the first place. The next thought is often on what can be done to prevent violence happening in the future (based upon conversations that I have been privy too). To repeat that violence is ‘wrong’ and that its perpetrators are ‘thugs’ indirectly implies that warning signs are obvious and violence avoidable, thereby rubbing more salt in the wound.
Nature abhors a vacuum, and with no strategies for violence prevention readily known, many are left to fill in the gaps themselves. As the polemic on family violence had gathered momentum through raising awareness it can be assumed, quite rightly, that raising more awareness will assist in some way. Although understandable, this belief is both limiting and problematic; limiting when it is assumed that awareness assists with violence prevention on the ground, problematic when it is believed there is no other way to be involved.
As a clinician, I will admit that I am uncertain of the role that raising awareness plays in violence prevention, due in part from having experienced disinterest and resistance from others when I have spoken of frontline work. Analysing the light and shades of relational violence makes for difficult conversations, to the extent that the resistance to be engaged in these discussions – which, ironically, is often reframed as being for the good of violence prevention or for those that have experienced abuse – can overshadow the information that leads to violence prevention. A colleague I once worked with likened the growing resistance as being similar to the build-up of water against a levee; if the resistance was to lessen then the information will pour out, including stories that prove ‘violent men’ to be just ‘men’, information on bilateral violence and, within this, the path to violence prevention. My uncertainty about raising awareness also stems from a growing cynicism with the self-congratulatory way that some men have embraced advocacy, and in turn, the public’s support of these men; a black and white style of thinking and believing which I believe underpin some instances of violence in the first place.
By applauding one person for his stance ‘against’ violence, there is a risk that a new (or renewed) sense of entitlement may follow soon after, with subconscious expectations for how others should respond due to the part that is being played in violence prevention. Although entitlement is often overlooked when discussing family violence, I do not believe it needs to be named for us to know how and why it is problematic; on a micro level male entitlement creates expectations in a relationship of how things ‘should’ be and how men ‘should’ be treated, on a macro level it affords men the right to walk through parks at night without fear and to wear whatever they want without others ‘belief’ that the wardrobe sends a ‘message’. Considering this, would not placing a man on a pedestal fuel the sense that he is ‘different’ and ‘better’ than other men? How may he feel as a result of this? How may he feel when told by others, perhaps a partner or friend, that he hasn’t been respectful? How may he feel, and react, when told that his actions are not up to scratch? Assuming that the goal is to minimise risk of harm to women and children, then strategies for raising awareness should avoid fostering more entitlement and expectation in men.
Before considering another reason why self-congratulation is problematic, it should be highlighted that men need to practise respectful, non-violent and equal communication in intimate relationships, friendships and in the workplace, before challenging others on sexist attitudes and beliefs, becoming involved in advocacy or taking a well-known stance against violence. The current platforms for men to be involved in advocacy however, suggest that the gap between what we know of an advocate’s personal life and what they represent in public is acceptable, as long their stance is visibly against violence (the film clip for Colleen Hewitt’s song Shut Up and Let Me Breath comes to mind, as does the White Ribbon pledge). In these instances, the willingness to applaud those for standing against violence makes it difficult to analyse what is underpinning these methods of advocacy, and to look critically at those involved.
A final point to consider is for the possibility that the idea of a ‘violent man’ is used as a scapegoat for the individual to project their own insecurities and self-doubt as to their potential to abuse power and control (as mentioned before) whilst the idea that the ‘normal man’ serves as a scapegoat for the individual’s unwillingness to truly be involved in violence prevention. A stance against violence that reinforces the ‘us and them’ stereotype, whilst reiterating qualities of respect, appreciation and equality, does not contribute to eliminating violence against women and children, rather it gives a message that these qualities are less common than we assume, casting blame onto ‘the man on the street’ for contributing to violence whilst taking focus off ourselves from being truly engaged in prevention.
Awareness is invaluable to an extent, however when considering that actions truly do speak louder than words, the path to combatting violence becomes more clear; it involves the modelling of respect and displaying of pro-feminist values with partners, loved ones, friends, wider family and colleagues, it involves an awareness of male privilege and the refusal to exploit the privileges it affords men, it involves the gentle challenging of others on their sexism and the encouragement of pro-feminist values in any way possible and finally, when starting a conversation about family violence, it involves the commitment to illuminating the path to violence prevention.
[1] https://prezi.com/l4sevlrznx0h/the-obscenity-of-understanding/