Jennifer Horgan: Violence relates to men, though not all men, and men must change it

Women have been fighting for decades to shift the responsibility of violence from the victim to the perpetrator, from women back to men. But men and boys push back against these phrases, demanding qualifying words like ‘some’ or ‘not all.’

The reaction is difficult to take when violence in society is statistically the work of men. Is the male ego so fragile, I’ve often asked myself? Why can’t a man nod his head and say: ‘Yes, it is a male problem and it is truly awful’?

And while we debate wording, the violence goes on. So I’m ready to rephrase the statement. Here it goes: 

Violence is a problem mostly relating to men, though not all men, and men must work to change it.

Is that a concession too far? Am I betraying feminism with my insertion of ‘mostly’? Of ‘not all’? Perhaps, but I don’t care. My desire to describe violence as a male problem is not greater than my desire to mobilise non-violent men against it.

To do that we need to create a more positive culture around men — especially for young men and boys. We need role models and a masculine identity they can look up to, follow, and be proud of.

Caitlin Moran is getting into hot water with her latest book What about Men? Her thesis is that it is hard to be a boy these days, considering the negativity they inherit. She does both girls and boys a disservice by claiming they are equally affected by patriarchy. By any sane metric, that is a step too far. 

But she makes a lot of sense in her consideration of why boys are turning to odious misogynists like Jordan Peterson and Andrew Tate. Such men see boys hanging in the wind and they catch them.

A Washington Post article last week referenced what is understood in social identity theory: that if your social identity is being maligned you are more likely to double down on it. Masculinity is being criticised as toxic? Well then, I will become more toxic, more ‘masculine’.

A male friend gave me a good analogy recently. He said being a man today is like being the last son in a family of troublesome boys, being sent off to school for the first time. You step inside the door of the classroom and the teacher eyes you before you have a chance to remove your coat. “Are you a … [insert dreaded family name here]? I’ve dealt with your brothers. Rest assured, I know what you’re about and I won’t be putting up with your nonsense in this classroom.”

The boy becomes more and more troublesome. He becomes his brothers.

I have spent 20 years in the company of young boys in classrooms in different parts of the world. Young boys need to see their futures as bright and meaningful, not blighted from birth, not cursed by the shape of their bodies. They don’t respond well to lectures about male violence, but they do respond to good people — and good men especially — showing them how wonderful men can be.

We desperately need positive ideas of what men can be. 

What does a good man look like?

It looks like being present, and it looks like caring. In the recent Growing Up In Ireland survey, 96% of primary caregivers responding were women. How is it that in a society where men and women so often work similar hours, women are still raising our young? 

How many boys in Ireland don’t have a good man in their lives to emulate? One in four families with children in Ireland is a one-parent family and 86.4% of one-parent families are headed by a mother.

Boys need to see men guiding, nurturing, cooking, cleaning; they need to encounter them as teachers, nurses, coaches and carers. We need care to be part of being a man.

We also need to create a positive depiction of masculinity in physical terms. Boys need positive male role models in their lives because women can’t experience what boys and men experience: what it’s like to grow up as a man.

Part of that is simple physical power. Physical strength is a focus for young boys. Combined with competition, the idea of power as physically overmatching someone else is deeply rooted in male culture.

From ‘taking it like a man,’ to ‘taking it outside’ to sacrificing their lives in full-scale war, men have been conditioned towards violence for generations and across cultures. Men in Ukraine right now are being held there under martial law to fight.

Men are inherently made aware of their physical strength from an early age and men are, for the most part, stronger than women. I am aware of my husband’s physical power, strength and height every day. He opens jars for me. He is the only person in the house who can close our Velux windows.

But we need to decouple physical power from violence. Physical strength is something to be enjoyed and we need models of controlling and restraining and harnessing physical power. Boys everywhere need to see that modelled. They need to see even manly men, strong, virile, competitive men choosing to do no harm. They need to see competitive and virile men in non-violent ways.

In the same Washington Post article, writer Christine Emba says: “The mainstream could embrace a model that acknowledges male particularity and difference but doesn’t denigrate women to do so.” This makes sense to me. But that modelling doesn’t happen enough in Ireland.

One in four women in Ireland who have been in a relationship has been abused by a current or former partner. In 2022, there were 33,990 disclosures of domestic abuse against women and children. Since 2020, the level of domestic violence has increased here. Some 244 women have been murdered since 1996. In solved cases, 87% of women were killed by a man known to them.

As a teacher, I have come to believe that behaviour is a form of communication. If the behaviour is truly heinous, it is nearly impossible to remember this, but remember it we must. There are root causes of male violence. 

Saying violence is a male problem and saying nothing else is extremely dangerous. De-emphasising the negative and promoting the positive is the first rule in the teacher's playbook. It might not seem right, but it is effective. Expectations form us.

Some men are responsible for most of the violence in the world. So we can’t yet say, ‘Men are good’. But maybe we could start with this: Many men are good.

It feels wrong to focus on good men when the horror of male violence carries on, but I firmly believe that good men are the answer. They have the power, the actual, literal, physical power to make being a man look hopeful.