Edit /apologia: the site code keeps transposing some of these paragraphs- I apologise on behalf for the confusion.
Everywhere I look recently there's been a tonne of online comment about public harassment of women by men. Women expressing anger and the idea that it's getting worse, male commentators reacting both defensively and offensively, disparaging the complainants for being disingenuous and oversensitive, and feminism per se for encouraging women to reject the sentiments involved. We're all heartless bitches, uppity sluts and emasculating contrarians; catcalling perpetrators are misunderstood heroes of romance and round and round it goes, devolving into trolling and #sloganeering and no one is the wiser or happier for any of it.
This displeases me. Like most women, I've had my share of shit from randoms, my particular physical presentation possibly incurring more than the usual sample and by that I mean everything from smiling appreciation to hardcore physical assault. I was treated to three separate instances of sexual harassment on the 5 km walk I took yesterday. Five fucking kilometres, equating to one incident every 1600 metres. All of which underscores the importance of the feminist imperatives that inform my conduct and expectations. It's been these principles that have helped me enjoy deeply intimate relationships with a number of wonderful men, demanding that I treat them fairly and as individuals without particular regard for the traditional roles that are tyrannous to both genders. I love male company, respect our various differences and cannot imagine my life without at least one schlong-wielding flesh-unit therein, lol. I just want to declare that so no skirt-hater can comfort themselves with the idea that I'm a seething misandrist hosebeast.
This displeases me. Like most women, I've had my share of shit from randoms, my particular physical presentation possibly incurring more than the usual sample and by that I mean everything from smiling appreciation to hardcore physical assault. I was treated to three separate instances of sexual harassment on the 5 km walk I took yesterday. Five fucking kilometres, equating to one incident every 1600 metres. All of which underscores the importance of the feminist imperatives that inform my conduct and expectations. It's been these principles that have helped me enjoy deeply intimate relationships with a number of wonderful men, demanding that I treat them fairly and as individuals without particular regard for the traditional roles that are tyrannous to both genders. I love male company, respect our various differences and cannot imagine my life without at least one schlong-wielding flesh-unit therein, lol. I just want to declare that so no skirt-hater can comfort themselves with the idea that I'm a seething misandrist hosebeast.
It's been this regard for the men in my personal orbit as much as anything else that has led me to ponder exactly why other guys shout stuff at women on the street. I mean really. Why do they do it? Is it even about us? Here are my conclusions, and these have been fairly candidly informed by the men I've questioned on the matter.
Dudes generally catcall because:
A- they think you're hot and feel entitled to hoot that basic shit at you: it really is that retarded
B- their peers expect them to do so/they are seeking spurious distinction and conspicuous differentiation
C- they don't have much interpersonal success and are soliciting attention any way they can
D- they explicitly desire to verbally intimidate or victimise you
E- they're initiating the auto-arousal that precedes physical sexual offending against women
Maybe you can think of other reasons, but I think this is a fairly comprehensive list of motivations.
Dudes generally catcall because:
A- they think you're hot and feel entitled to hoot that basic shit at you: it really is that retarded
B- their peers expect them to do so/they are seeking spurious distinction and conspicuous differentiation
C- they don't have much interpersonal success and are soliciting attention any way they can
D- they explicitly desire to verbally intimidate or victimise you
E- they're initiating the auto-arousal that precedes physical sexual offending against women
Maybe you can think of other reasons, but I think this is a fairly comprehensive list of motivations.
 | These range downward on an ethical scale from dumbarse attention-seeking and thoughtless entitlement to homicidal intent, and neatly encompass the challenges faced every day by women in patriarchal societies. Don't even try to argue that we're not still there, menanists, because while men majority-control and majority-comprise law enforcement, the judiciary, medical professions and the political process, women are subject to male hegemony, by definition. It is what it is, and that reality pervades the matter to hand. So here's the deal, catcalling apologists. Firstly and fundamentally, shouting brainfarts at strangers is always the wrong thing to do. If you can spell manners, you should know how they work. If you value the social contract that keeps strangers from telling you how your breath smells and what you really look like in those pants, understand that it applies to everyone, including you. |
Some catcallers argue they're just keeping shit real by vocalising their observations but if that's the case, why aren't they telling that really big guy walking past that he looks like a gorilla and should ease up on the free weights? Or that they worry his penis might be larger than theirs? Because the overwhelming majority of men who indulge in this behaviour are perfectly aware it is objectionable, fear even reasonable consequence and exercise scrupulous discretion in regard to their own safety whilst denigrating women for trying to protect theirs. Which makes them hypocritical chickenshits. It's perfectly alright to find someone attractive, but dude, if your attention is making the recipient angry or uncomfortable, you're doing it wrong.
When men subject women to public judgements about their attractiveness or lack thereof or impose contact, they do so from a notional and physical position of power. That very default power is the thing that shelters many men from considering how it feels to have personalised sexual remarks hollered at them, importantly, by someone who has the ability and possibly the inclination to act on them. Which is why that drunk chick slurring nice asssss at a guy at 3.45am on a saturday morning is not the same thing. The possibility of her dragging him into the park across the street and sexually assaulting him with the support of her friends is extraordinarily minimal. But reverse the genders and everything changes.
As a catcaller, your comments, however you intend them, are loaded with a subtext you might not have considered and cannot control. When you shout nice tits or hey baby where you going, most of us aren't hearing that you enjoy our physical expression even if that is all you meant to say. Instead, we get this: that complete stranger shouting sexualised innuendo could probably overpower me. He's trying to force me to engage with him personally even though I've indicated no interest whatsoever in the prospect. There's a good chance no one will help me if he decides to follow me down the street and grab my arm. How would I explain the bruises to my partner? Are those guys in that car across the road his friends? Even if that's not going to happen right now, fear of that prospect has destroyed a lot of the pleasure I might have been taking in my current activity.
Because we are often afraid of what men can do to us. Many of us are struggling with what they have already done. As a subject cohort, we have many excellent and unimpeachably rational reasons not to trust the scope of male empathy or restraint. That distrust is informed by our parents and peers, popular culture, official exhortation and, most deplorably, our personal experiences. I don't think many men have given much thought to the sheer ubiquity of male-on-female aggression, either because they feel it doesn't affect them directly, or because it's depressing and embarrassing to acknowledge. Some men seem to feel that women complaining about their verbal impositions equates to a wholesale rejection of male regard, but they should understand that it's not regard they are projecting.
To casual catcallers and men who maybe questioning their conduct, please consider that you are quite possibly imposing unwanted sexual attention on someone who was raped three days ago. Or molested by a number of relatives. Or is being pressured into sex by her partner. Or has been told three minutes ago by the guys down the road that they'd like to gangbang her. The generalised official statistic representing the experience of sexual violence is one in three women. I'm here to tell you that's lowball, and to remind verbal offenders that a number of your male acquaintances have also suffered sexual trauma and the aggression you are perpetrating in their company is more distressing than they will probably ever be willing to articulate.
Is violating the safety and privacy of other people really what you want to be doing with your life? Why, for fuck's sake? Would you tolerate it on behalf of your own relatives and friends?
When men subject women to public judgements about their attractiveness or lack thereof or impose contact, they do so from a notional and physical position of power. That very default power is the thing that shelters many men from considering how it feels to have personalised sexual remarks hollered at them, importantly, by someone who has the ability and possibly the inclination to act on them. Which is why that drunk chick slurring nice asssss at a guy at 3.45am on a saturday morning is not the same thing. The possibility of her dragging him into the park across the street and sexually assaulting him with the support of her friends is extraordinarily minimal. But reverse the genders and everything changes.
As a catcaller, your comments, however you intend them, are loaded with a subtext you might not have considered and cannot control. When you shout nice tits or hey baby where you going, most of us aren't hearing that you enjoy our physical expression even if that is all you meant to say. Instead, we get this: that complete stranger shouting sexualised innuendo could probably overpower me. He's trying to force me to engage with him personally even though I've indicated no interest whatsoever in the prospect. There's a good chance no one will help me if he decides to follow me down the street and grab my arm. How would I explain the bruises to my partner? Are those guys in that car across the road his friends? Even if that's not going to happen right now, fear of that prospect has destroyed a lot of the pleasure I might have been taking in my current activity.
Because we are often afraid of what men can do to us. Many of us are struggling with what they have already done. As a subject cohort, we have many excellent and unimpeachably rational reasons not to trust the scope of male empathy or restraint. That distrust is informed by our parents and peers, popular culture, official exhortation and, most deplorably, our personal experiences. I don't think many men have given much thought to the sheer ubiquity of male-on-female aggression, either because they feel it doesn't affect them directly, or because it's depressing and embarrassing to acknowledge. Some men seem to feel that women complaining about their verbal impositions equates to a wholesale rejection of male regard, but they should understand that it's not regard they are projecting.
To casual catcallers and men who maybe questioning their conduct, please consider that you are quite possibly imposing unwanted sexual attention on someone who was raped three days ago. Or molested by a number of relatives. Or is being pressured into sex by her partner. Or has been told three minutes ago by the guys down the road that they'd like to gangbang her. The generalised official statistic representing the experience of sexual violence is one in three women. I'm here to tell you that's lowball, and to remind verbal offenders that a number of your male acquaintances have also suffered sexual trauma and the aggression you are perpetrating in their company is more distressing than they will probably ever be willing to articulate.
Is violating the safety and privacy of other people really what you want to be doing with your life? Why, for fuck's sake? Would you tolerate it on behalf of your own relatives and friends?
Catcallers, that is why we don't thank you for those kind words. You're not making us feel special or appreciated. You're not making yourselves extra-manly or astonishingly heterosexual or scintillatingly attractive. You're reminding us why we didn't want you in the first place. You're forcing us to decide, in ten seconds or less, exactly which of the abovementioned bulletpoint motivations prompted your remarks. Again. If your goal was to appear desperately thirsty, sociopathic and to confirm to everyone that you're that guy who doesn't care about consent, relax: mission accomplished.
Perhaps imagine how you'd feel if, as an average, unaccompanied dude not into rough group action, you had to walk past a yard full of drunk gang members while they joked about fucking your pretty mouth and passing your skinny arse around. Before the laughter dies away and all eyes are on you. Sound like the kind of thing you'd enjoy on a regular basis? Are you grateful for the attention? Ever felt more beautiful or desired?
Perhaps imagine how you'd feel if, as an average, unaccompanied dude not into rough group action, you had to walk past a yard full of drunk gang members while they joked about fucking your pretty mouth and passing your skinny arse around. Before the laughter dies away and all eyes are on you. Sound like the kind of thing you'd enjoy on a regular basis? Are you grateful for the attention? Ever felt more beautiful or desired?
It is true that some women will occasionally express pleasure in the attention of randoms, and they are completely entitled to do so, but that approval needs far more qualification than it commonly seems to receive. Personally, I enjoy well-intentioned compliments from men of my acquaintance. This is very narrow and specific licence, not the same thing as verbal breast assessment by strangers, and we are entitled to insist on the distinction. I'm also pretty interested in the way this 'stated receptivity' is so often tailored to the gender of its audience, and highly suspicious of its appeasing flavour. When I hear a woman saying how much she enjoys that kind of attention, I hear someone admitting they're overly invested in pandering to people who don't give a fuck what she thinks in the first place. Dignity, like charity, begins at home, and yes, some women need to look into that. But a socially viable and fully-realised adult doesn't seek to exploit other peoples' lack of self esteem or confusion about their basic human entitlements by using those deficits as justification for their own shitty behaviour.
In summary- as women, every time we hear catcalls, we have to determine if they're just the idle flatulence of some self-regarding cockhead, the preface to an angry confrontation with someone twice our size, or the sound of a rapist reaching for the keys to a van with painted-out windows. Every fucking time. That gets old. So it would be great if you just didn't. Don't let your penis make all your decisions; it looks bad.
My closest male friend once admitted to me that he'd catcalled at girls a few times when he was a young teen. I asked him why he desisted; he laughed and said because I felt like a fucking dick as though it was utterly self-evident, and I'll always love him for that. And to the other fine men who do give a shit, don't let your friends be catcalling dicks either. We love that you care (and may go down on you later. Or not. It'll be a surprise.)
In summary- as women, every time we hear catcalls, we have to determine if they're just the idle flatulence of some self-regarding cockhead, the preface to an angry confrontation with someone twice our size, or the sound of a rapist reaching for the keys to a van with painted-out windows. Every fucking time. That gets old. So it would be great if you just didn't. Don't let your penis make all your decisions; it looks bad.
My closest male friend once admitted to me that he'd catcalled at girls a few times when he was a young teen. I asked him why he desisted; he laughed and said because I felt like a fucking dick as though it was utterly self-evident, and I'll always love him for that. And to the other fine men who do give a shit, don't let your friends be catcalling dicks either. We love that you care (and may go down on you later. Or not. It'll be a surprise.)
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