Read Handbook on Sexual Violence Online
Authors: Jennifer Sandra.,Brown Walklate
Shannon addresses the question of what kinds of sexually abusive behaviours children are exposed to on the Internet and what choices do children themselves make when exposed to contact that they feel uncomfortable with. From the empirical data that he produces, it is evident that the process of being exposed to online sexual solicitation is neither a simple nor a straightforward one with a key moment in the contact process
being the shift from the chat room to MSN email contact. It is at this juncture that the content of the contact changes, changing once again when contact moves from online to offline. He introduces the notion of a ‘pyramid of sexually abusive online contact’; the shape of which comprises a number of variables including the vulnerability/complicity of the child and the amount of manipulation required by the adult to gain access to the child. Most children most of the time ‘block’ online contacts when the content of that contact changes. This, it must be remembered, is in a context in which most children/ young people, most of the time, are still more at risk from sexually abusive behaviour from people who are close to them. By implication Shannon not only draws our attention to the extent of knowledge that children and young people have about managing their online lives, but also makes a strong case for appreciating the extent to which the concept of a continuum is equally useful in understanding the processes involved within a particular kind of sexual activity for all the participants. More implicit than explicit in Shannon’s work is the predominance of males using the Internet for the purpose of making contact with young people. So, resonating with other chapters in this
section, the question of men and their relationship with masculinity raises its head as a cause for concern. This issue is at the heart of Stephanie Kewley’s practitioner’s commentary on what might be done in the face of the types of sexual violence presented in this part of the book.
Kewley, writing from the perspective of a probation officer, following Jordan, makes a sound case for the centring of victims’ experiences as being the focal point for practice interventions. In the light of understanding these experiences she argues that there should be a deeper analysis of treatment needs, that the distancing behaviour of men from their use of violence needs to be challenged, and that there is a clear case for inclusive bridging programmes that refocus men’s relationship with their gender identity before they are accepted onto treatment programmes. Doing this might better ensure that they are encouraged to accept their behaviour, take responsibility for it, and to learn that there are other acceptable ways of responding to situations they find challenging. Without this kind of response the implication might be that policy responses and practitioners alike remain silent on men’s relationship with the use of violence.
Taken together these
chapters encourage us to think about a number of issues: whose voices get listened to and why in the research process (Jordan, Petrie and Shannon), the efficacy of policy responses (Jordan, Westmarland and Petrie) and the challenges of masculinity (Ballinger, Shannon and Kewley). Readers may well find other thematics in the material presented here. However, one that is dominant and worthy of further comment is the politics of silencing.
The politics of silencing
In 2004 the English edition of Thomas Mathieson’s
Silently Silenced: Essays on the Creation of Acquiescence in Modern Society
was published. While this book does not address questions of sexual violence (that was not its purpose), what
it eloquently draws attention to is the myriad ways in which silencing works. Silencing mechanisms clearly operate by force. For Mathieson this means the force at the state’s disposal. For many women this is the physical and psychological force deployed by men, usually those men close to them, to make them acquiesce in their treatment of them. In the contributions in this
section of the Handbook we can see the evidence of this in the work of Jordan and Ballinger. However, as Mathieson demonstrates, that silencing also works effectively in very silent ways, hence silently silenced; through individualisa- tion, normalisation, co-option, superficial endorsement, and displacement of responsibility. We can see each of these strategies evident in the chapters presented here.
The continued prevalence of beliefs about why rape and sexual murder happen (blame the victim) and to whom (the deserving victim) preserves mechanisms of
individualisation
found in ideological processes that frame experiences and our understandings of them. The chapters by Jordan and Ballinger tell us a story that has changed little at a fundamental level despite the
superficial endorsement
of policies, policy-makers and practitioners for alternative ways of thinking about these events. Of course, such processes of individualisation encourage the self-silencing that Jordan discusses as well as the distancing strategies employed by men to deny their violence to women highlighted by Kewley. The latter also hints at
displacement of responsibility
; especially as an individual strategy, though displacement of responsibility can also be identified as a collective or institutional process, as Petrie alludes to, in how the problem of ‘child abuse’ and children’s exposure to violence is frequently discussed as though this occurred in a vacuum isolated from wider societal endorsement of violence (in war, etc.).
Feminists have long been sensitive to the dangers of
co-option
(of their concerns being used for other political purposes) in relation to policies and responses to sexual violence (see for example Matthews 1994; Walklate 2008). However, the rise of political and policy responses to sexual violence does not mean that this danger has diminished. Co-option can take a number of guises. For example, from Westmarland’s Chapter
13 we might observe the targeting of women ‘at risk’ in settings of domestic violence by mechanisms that assess their ‘risk factors’ as one potential area for such co-option. Such a strategy, that suggests a linear and uniform understanding of domestic violence, not only silences problematic men, but
normalises
the experience of domestic violence for all those who might be subject to it. The failure of practitioner responses to develop programmes that are inclusive of all men known to be violent towards women (as observed by Kewley) fails to challenge the implied pathological nature of such violence, thereby adding to the silencing process that normalises it. Taken together, the silencing of voices (whether women’s, children’s or those of men who experience violence at the hands of women) effectively, and unintentionally, supports policies that on the one hand may seem to be addressing the problem of sexual violence while simultaneously doing little to change it. Hence a politics of silencing, in which some voices are rendered more silent than others, policies offer a superficial endorsement to change, but the gendered nature of the processes under scrutiny remains the same.
Conclusion
The chapters presented here serve to remind us that the gendered nature of sexual violence persists despite the claims made that we are now in a post- feminist world. So, as Mooney (2007) observed, contemporarily there might be ‘public anathema’ with regard to sexual violence but it is still a ‘private common place’. The reasons for this are complex but are clearly as stitched into cultural norms and values as they are embedded within institutional and policy understandings of the nature and extent of the problem. However, as Mooney herself suggests, the values whereby men’s violence to women is sustained in the face of public imperatives otherwise ‘exist throughout the width and breadth of popular culture’ (Mooney 2007: 169). Consider, for example, the vicarious pleasure gained by some young males in witnessing violence on a ‘good night out’ (Winlow and Hall 2006). The cultural value attached to violence, especially for men, is profound. But so are the economic imperatives that afford the opportunity and the sustenance for the development and engagement with policies. As many countries enter an era of austerity, it will be interesting to see whether or not the alignment that has been made between feminist concerns about sexual violence and political decisions that have fuelled some of the policy responses discussed in these
chapters will remain. In any event, voices still need to be heard to ensure that the nature and extent of sexual violence documented here in a range of guises continues to be rendered problematic.
References
Brown, J., Horvath, M., Kelly, L. and Westmarland, N. (2010)
Has Anything Changed?
London: Government Equalities Office.
Coleman, K. and Osborne, S. (2010) ‘Homicide’, in K. Smith and J. Flatley (eds)
Homicides, Firearm Offences and Intimate Violence 2008/09 – Supplementary Volume 2 to Crime in England and Wales 2008/09
. London: Home Office.
Lovett, J. and Kelly, L. (2009)
Different Systems: Similar Outcomes
. London Metropolitan University: CWASU.
Mathieson, T. (2004)
Silently Silenced
. London: Waterside Press. Matthews, N. (1994)
Confronting Rape
. London: Routledge.
Mooney, J. (2007) ‘Shadow values, shadow figures: real violence’,
Critical Criminology
, 15: 159–70.
Robinson, A. and Rowlands, J. (2009) ‘Assessing and managing risk among different victims of domestic abuse: limits of a generic model of risk assessment’,
Security Journal
, 22(3): 190–204,
Walklate, S. (2008) ‘What is to be done about violence against women?’,
British Journal of Criminology
, 48(1): 39–54.
Winlow, S. and Hall, S. (2006)
Violent Night
. London: Berg.
Wilson, M. and Daly, M. (1998) ‘Sexual rivalry and sexual conflict: recurring themes in fatal conflicts’,
Theoretical Criminology
, 2: 291–310.
Silencing rape, silencing women
Jan Jordan
Meet Jan Jordan
Jan Jordan is an Associate Professor in Criminology at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand; a feminist; and a passionate advocate for victims of rape and sexual assault. One of her research aims has been to assist women in telling their own stories, with her first book being a series of narratives from women working in the sex industry. She has been actively involved in researching sexual violence for nearly 20 years, with much of her focus being on women’s experiences of reporting rape to the police. More recently she has been exploring issues of victimisation and survival, particularly in the context of making sense of the experiences of an amazing group of women who were all attacked by the same serial rapist. As well as teaching criminology classes Jan is a regular contributor to police training courses on sexual assault investigations, and in both contexts aims to challenge conventional thinking and promote greater understanding of the complex dynamics involved in violence against women, and the reasons why we need to do all we can to prevent its occurrence.
Introduction
Rape has long been considered a crime so unspeakable, so shameful to its victims, that they are rendered mute and cloaked in protective anonymity . . . The victims of rape must carry their memories with them for the rest of their lives. They must not also carry the burden of silence and shame.
(Raine 1998: 6)
Understanding the crime of rape is both defiantly simple and surprisingly complex. One person, predominantly male, asserts their will over another person, typically female, to sexually violate their body. The simplicity of the physical act obscures recognition of the myriad ways it impacts on those
victimised, while also ignoring the complex dynamics giving rise to its occurrence. In the crime of rape a woman’s body is invaded and possessed – she is for that moment enslaved to the will of a man. His act of rape smudges her temporarily out of existence. He mutes her voice then afterwards insists on her silence. He may not need to verbalise this decree since his actions are buttressed by solid traditions supporting the privileging of men’s lives and voices. In colluding with the rapist, society silences the victim.
Today, a decade into the twenty-first century, we know more about the prevalence of rape and the complex dynamics giving rise to its occurrence than any previous generation. The reforms of the past 40 years have facilitated an environment within which sexual victimisation research is funded and conducted, inquiries and commissions undertaken, and survivors’ narratives published. It is easy to be lulled into a post-feminist haze of complacency that we have ‘done’ rape and the way is clear for victims to speak and be heard. This
chapter seeks to interrogate the silence that, despite such reforms, still surrounds rape.
It begins with the historical silencing of women’s voices before outlining feminist challenges to patriarchal control. Reforms and changes made in recent years are reviewed before asking why these have not had greater impact, and why such a loud and resounding silence continues to surround the crime of rape. Six key silencing agents are identified: