Dear Edith: Men defending women

First of all, I want to thank you so much for your support of FemCatholic and genuine interest in these issues! It gives me great hope for the future of our Church to know that there are seminarians that are looking to grow and educate themselves, and I think that this willingness to grow will aid you immensely in your future pastoral work.

If you believe that the idea we are talking about is whether or not men should protect women, it makes sense that you would be confused. However, that is not really what is being discussed here. The harm of the implicit message is not in the protection of women by men from other men, but in what it means to be a man.

There are plenty of good and moral reasons why someone might come to another’s defense, either verbally or physically: to right a wrong, to protect the weak and vulnerable, to correct a power imbalance, to uphold justice, etc. But here’s the thing: none of those reasons have anything to do with masculine identity. The instant we equate someone's worth as a man with his physical capacity to do something, and evaluating that worth based on how well he does it, we run the risk of forcing men to construct a false identity to measure their self-worth. This puts them in danger of having that identity either never fully form (and thus he feels perpetually defective because of things beyond his control) or totally collapse if they find themselves for some reason unable to follow through or prevent bad things from happening, especially due to a failing that is physical rather than moral.

Sometimes, they will begin to judge others based on how capable they are of performing those actions and perpetuate a cycle of unfulfilled expectations and shame, or take out their frustrations about their inability to measure up in other unhealthy ways.

To give an example: a man who is missing an arm might be less capable of physically defending himself or someone else is a fist fight, but he is no less of a man in the eyes of God. Yet, collectively, we often do judge people on whether or not they are able to perform according to our expectations of what their identity should be.

Put another way: very few people would question whether it’s a parent’s duty to protect their children from harm, physically and otherwise. But (hopefully) few would question the ability of people with physical disabilities to parent effectively, or base the definition of being a good parent on how well someone can fight. Yet this is often the implicit message that we send to men. The man who can bench more at the gym will be the one seen as more manly, will consider himself to be more manly, and may consider other men to be less manly, until the day he falls and breaks his wrist and spirals into a depression because he is not able to fulfill his role as protector, the role that contributes the most to his identity and understanding of his value to society.

Ultimately, I think the key question is whether the charge to men to protect women (and, along with women, all those who it is in their power to protect and defend) is coming from a desire for objective justice, or from a caricature of masculine ideals (strong, powerful, tough, etc.) meant to judge how much of a man someone is.

I think the key question is whether the charge to men to protect women ... is coming from a desire for objective justice, or from a caricature of masculine ideals.

As for Matthew 5:29, I can only really guess at the author’s intent, but it seems like a reading of it within purity culture creates an avenue for shaming and blaming ourselves or other people and things rather than taking a healthy, proactive responsibility towards our sinfulness and correcting ourselves. It doesn’t seem to me that Jesus is trying to make us feel shame about something that often happens almost before we’re even aware of it, but rather encouraging us to take sin seriously, examine the root causes of it, and take steps to address those causes. However, when taken too literally, this text could cause someone to feel helpless and irredeemably shameful in the face of lust.

I hope that makes things more clear. Once again, thank you so much for your willingness to read FemCatholic and ask these questions!

Mary Ashley Burton is a FemCatholic Contributor. She is a writer, filmmaker, and Spanish interpreter living in Los Angeles, CA. When she’s not spending too much time on Facebook, you can find her co-hosting the Fishers of Men podcast on Christian dating and relationships, planning her next trip, or trying to make people laugh.

Dear Seminarian,

As a male who has spent a great deal of intentional energy exploring the impacts of my gender socializations, I have chewed on many similar questions. These, paired with supportive and accountable challenges from many in my life, have shaped how I approach this issue of “protecting” women. Since I believe it is the job of men to support each other in our growth, allow me to share some thoughts that might be useful.

The idea that men should “protect” women is harmful to males and non-males alike, and for a number of reasons. First, as I think Jessica Gerhardt was suggesting in her article about purity culture, the creation of an archetype of masculinity (in our example) creates hierarchy. Those men who can fit the ideal (by being able to “protect” women) are valued more than those who can’t. Jesus did not arrive as the archetypal Messiah the people were expecting (Hosea: 3:4-5) – a military leader ready to overthrow the Empire. In the end, the crowd determined his life was less valuable than Barabbas’ (Luke 23:23). Those of us who aren’t able to measure up to dominant cultural standards (regardless of the health of these standards) may struggle to face both the treatment of society and the internalized shame and embarrassment. These all have real destructive impacts on people and their lives.

This masculine archetype also facilitates a “complementary” and similarly unhealthy model for women. When men decide that women are a unique class of human that needs protecting, this encourages women to underestimate their agency and devalue their self-worth. The value of men “protecting” women is built on the (unspoken) premise that women require a male savior because they are not capable of solving their own problems. Women are encouraged to find men who will reinforce the segregation of genders grounded in male centrality; this leads to a hierarchy grounded in simplistic, outdated gender roles. This is not an arrangement of equality but a trait of patriarchy. It is paternalism at its worst. Dominant culture imposes this standard on women and pressures them to buy in completely. And when they do internalize these beliefs, the consequences are disastrous to women’s perception of their inherent values and gifts. As the Samaritan woman asks Jesus, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” She has accepted the cultural insistence that she had no value – both as a Samaritan woman and as a woman with a complex romantic past. And when the disciples return, they make known the dominant cultural value they participate in: “They marveled that he was talking with a woman” (John 4:1-39).

The notion of “protection” is also harmful because it encourages men to buy into a toxic masculinity grounded in aggression, violence, and intervention as solutions for conflicts and problems. It supports call-out culture, where it is more important to call out someone’s incorrect behavior then to support their comprehension and growth into a new way of being. “Protection” leads no room for conversation, clarification, and real conflict resolution. It exploits men’s socializations to anger, power, and ego. Simon Peter pulled out his sword and struck the ear of the high priest’s servant when he thought Jesus needed his protection in Gethsemane. Jesus’ call to us is as clear as it was to Simon Peter, “Put your sword away” (John 18:1-11).

And when force and aggression are encouraged, when men are asked to prove their value and care by “protecting,” we often go looking for situations in which to prove ourselves. We walk around public spaces with a constant suspicion of others. We make assumptions about other men’s intentions and feel compelled to respond visibly, with strength, and without the humility of knowing we are equally culpable in falling short. As John admitted, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us” (Mark 9:38). We move with suspicion, but our assumptions miss the point. Worst of all though, these assumptions, this reading into situations, manifest themselves in our buying into stereotypes about who is a threat. In many of these situations of “protection,” racism and classism rear their ugly, unjust heads. Men of color and men experiencing homelessness are often targeted as the major threats to the safety of women. Just as the blind man was deemed not worthy by those who rebuked him for calling out to Jesus (Luke 18:39) and the lepers and their families were blamed for their illnesses (John 9:1), we all fall into dangerous and unjust stereotypes about populations of people.

And this mindset that certain populations are major risks refuses to acknowledge the statistical reality that these women we want to “protect” are actually at greatest risk from us, from men in their immediate lives (families, intimate partners), than they are from strangers. We only see the “other” as the threat. How often do we seriously consider how we have participated in violence (in any of its forms) against women? How often have we actively challenged male friends and relatives who speak and act in violent ways?

In a similar vein, sometimes in our attempts to “protect” women we actually put them at greater risk. Oftentimes, men can prioritize intervening (to feel like we did something) over being effective, forgetting how our responses can put women into greater danger. The impacts of our interventions impact our safety much less than women’s; they have to exist in their bodies long after we have “protected” them and left. We can intervene in public but people will return to the private of their lives. Again, this isn’t to suggest we don’t intervene in violence; I believe stopping violence in any form is necessary. It is just important that men remember our actions have impacts and that the goal isn’t to improve our sense of self or feel like we did something but rather to actually impact the culture of violence.

The value of “protecting” women also often places the responsibility for action at the moment of violence rather then the creation of the culture that led to that moment. With a worry for my own ego, I often choose to intervene in situations where women are present rather than those spaces where it is just me and my friends talking. My desire for specific perceptions by these two groups impacts my actions. Our work, though, is to create cultures and spaces where, before women even show up, it is clear that harassment of every kind isn’t tolerated. That way, when women enter the space, there is no need for “protection.” Women aren’t safe because I defend them; they are safe because I have done the interpersonal, intrapersonal, cultural and systemic work to transform sexist attitudes and behaviors and dismantle patriarchal systems and policies that make them unsafe. Though Jesus recognized there would be a need for his disciples to feed the hungry and clothe the naked (Matthew 25:35), he also wanted, as his disciples later recall, that they “had all things in common…selling their possession and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all as any had need,” so that a new culture could be created to minimize the need for intervention (Acts 2:44-45).

Our work, though, is to create cultures and spaces where, before women even show up, it is clear that harassment of every kind isn’t tolerated. That way, when women enter the space, there is no need for “protection.”

“Protecting” women also reinforces the idea that women’s access to safety and power is only accessible vicariously, through the men (partners, fathers, brothers, sons) in their lives. This reinforces the notion to other men that they had better respect men and men’s voices, not women’s demanding their own respect and safety. We need to be reinforcing the truth that women’s public authority, dignity and rights come from them, gifted by God, and not from men. Neither Jesus nor his disciples wanted to honor the requests of the Syrophoenician woman for her dignity and rights, but as Jesus ultimately concluded, “it shall be done for you as you wish” (Matthew 15:21-28).

Additionally, part of the danger of this social expectation is that it teaches women to trust men to be the providers of safety rather than themselves as a collective power capable of claiming their safety and worth without us. When Jesus was in Bethany and the woman came and anointed his head with oil, the disciples became indignant and mocked her to her face. Knowing her power and filled with conviction, she continued and Jesus celebrated her conviction (Matthew 26:6-13). Our toxic social expectations can lead women to trust male politicians guilty of gender and sexual violence and doubt women sharing personal stories of violence. They hide the reality that women have their own power to call on to protect themselves and each other from men who fail to protect them on the personal, political, and religious levels. We, men, can choose not to “protect” women whenever we want, to not challenge a friend’s behaviors and words. The impact on us will be far different then on the women experiencing those words and actions.

While the desire to care for others is something I intrinsically value and uplift, how we enact it must involve an analysis of the underlying reality of power. “Protecting” is just a relative in the “controlling” power family. At its core, “protecting” is just a veiled attempt at wielding power over that deemed deficient and in need. In order to try and “protect” women, those with power in society (male parents, policy makers, religious leaders, etc.) have crafted a variety of cultural expectations, policies, and practices that ultimately work to control women, just as King Ahasuerus and his wise men crafted after Queen Vashti dared challenge the King’s right to control her (Esther 1:10-22). We use shame, blame, and toxic norms to impact women’s choices, interests, and values. We place the responsibility solely on women for harm that comes to them when they choose not to reduce their lives to accommodate toxically masculine behaviors. Then, when men inevitably misbehave, we use that as our justification for intervening to “protect.” In reality, men have tolerated, perpetuated and even created the very conditions and systems we feel we must “protect” women from. Despite the punishment for both adulterous parties being stoning to death, Jesus only had to “protect” the woman caught in adultery because the greater societal crime was daring to challenge a man’s control over his wife. The purpose of the law is clearly power, not morality or protecting society. Until men with unjust and disproportionate power work to dismantle patriarchy, our attempts to lament culture and challenge other men are merely a lip service to justice.

All of that said, I appreciate the observation that you made that some of your female friends have articulated their appreciation for your walking them to their cars at night. Consent is a process that male culture has to do a lot of reckoning with. “Protecting” women is often done from a stance of men imposing our desires on women. We must offer support to friends in a way that allows each of them to decide for themselves what they would like from us, that gives them the chance to say yes or no freely, and that respects their decisions. Sometimes we assume our desires should be the only influencers on our actions. Other times, we say things like, “It would make me feel more comfortable…” in order to impose our will on others. We forget that these decisions involve another human’s life, a person with their own values, skills and autonomy. Jesus acted off of the invitations he extended, not the power society had given to him as a male.

The challenge is on us, gentlemen, and no one else.

All in all, I don’t believe women need men to protect them. Though I am a male and shouldn‘t assume I can speak for anyone else, I imagine women might desire a few of the following things. Women might need men who will hold other men accountable for the words and actions we choose. They might need men who see their inherent value and who respect their decisions. They might need men who will work to create a new way of relating in themselves, their communities, the surrounding culture, and larger institutions that won’t tolerate abuse, violence or dehumanization. Women might need men who will let go of our need for power, ego, and security so that a new way of being can be reclaimed. The challenge is on us, gentlemen, and no one else. We must start with ourselves, but must share with our male friends, our male family members, our male coworkers, our male congregants, our male neighbors, our male elected officials, and more. And hopefully we can honor Jesus’ admission that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for all are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28).

Matt Harper is a member of the Los Angeles Catholic Worker and an organizer for White People for Black Lives.