
Because my work sometimes attracts the attention of men who do not like what I do, as I planned my recent book tour I considered what I would do if these events caught the attention of either a lone irate man or a clutch of so-called fathers’ rights activists.
How could I not remember the vitriolic email I received last summer from someone claiming to be Adam and be concerned about someone like him showing up?
“You are a feminist, and therefore deserve to have cancer of the nipples, clitoris cancer, vagina cancer and all of those great things. I am also wishing upon you that your efforts will infuriate a man of reason, causing him to commit heinous violence against you.”
Happily for me, Adam did not surface at any of my events and, while I received some 30 emails over the course of two weeks from a man who claimed to have been done wrong by the family law system (although his emails were so incoherent and bizarre that this may not have been his message at all) and who seemed to be focused on one of my events in particular, he did not appear. Sadly, his emails have continued, but since they don’t contain anything approaching an actual threat, I just hit delete as soon as I see his name in my inbox. (As with Adam, I doubt the name he provides is real; my attempt to respond to one of his early emails was returned with the message that his email address did not exist.)
In fact, few men showed up to my events. There was a good turnout at the final event in Kingston, but that’s where I live, and I knew most of the men who came. My partner, my brothers, and partners of women I know came to other events, but overwhelmingly, my launches were attended by women.
What’s the role for men?
This did not surprise me, but it did get me thinking – not for the first time – about what the role of men should be in this work to end gender-based violence.
My experiences with misogynist and possibly violent men like Adam has made me (perhaps unfairly) suspicious of men I don’t know. While I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about my safety, I certainly consider it. So, when a man came into one of my book events very early and headed straight to the book table, my worst case scenario tendencies came to the fore. I made sure my phone was in my hand and that I had a clear path to the door.
In fact, he wanted to do nothing more sinister than purchase a book. During my talk, he listened closely, nodding his head in recognition from time to time and, when we opened up the floor for discussion, his was the first hand to go up. With some hesitation, I called on him.
I’m very glad that I did. He shared the story of his partner, a woman with two daughters whose previous husband had subjected her to serious abuse and who did not find safety or help when she turned to either the criminal or family law. His analysis of systemic failures was nuanced and clear, as was his commitment to supporting his partner and her children.
It was a good reminder to me that not all men are Adam.
Men against misogyny
Indeed, most men are not Adam and most do not abuse the women in their lives. We all know them. This is, of course, a good thing, but being a silent non-abusive man is not enough. Men need to do more to call out gender-based violence.
While feminists of my generation who had children worked hard to raise our sons as well as our daughters to embrace feminism, I think it is harder to do this now than it was 40+ years ago. We’re surrounded by toxic masculinity at every turn, as well as by both social media and mainstream popular culture that continue to present images of gender and gender roles that subordinate girls, women and those who are gender-diverse.
Some men are fighting back against this. Sudbury English professor Neil Shyminsky, for instance, is part of “a small cohort of men building a following on social media dismantling messages from the so-called manosphere one meme and videostitch at a time.”
(According to the Canadian Museum of Human Rights, the word manosphere “refers to a wide variety of men’s groups operating on the internet and offline. Many describe themselves as fighting against progressive or ‘woke’ ideas about gender equality. Manosphere influencers often assert the unfounded idea that men are naturally dominant. They distort biology and evolution to argue that restrictive gender norms are ‘natural.”)
Shyminsky says that there is an appetite for online content that counters the surge of misogynistic voices, which he describes as a “poisonous version of manhood.”
I, for one, am glad to hear this, and I hope that 2025 sees more and more men pushing back against ongoing misogyny and the male privilege that so many of them enjoy.