Commentary on the Special Issue: New Ways of Thinking Theoretically About Violence Against Women and Other Forms of Gender-Based Violence

Introduction

The collection of scholarship in this volume sparks new ways of thinking about violence against women and reaffirms the significance of attending to key areas of great theoretical importance, which include theorizing intersectionality, patriarchy, and masculinities. Collectively, these contributions address the decline of feminist work that examines the role of patriarchy in violence against women and makes the case to scholars that we should always consider how social and cultural forces impact the abuse of females.

Taken as a whole, these authors hold researchers, the criminal justice apparatus, and “helping” institutions accountable for their assumptions; offer caution regarding the coercive power of the state; reconsider masculinities with an eye toward how male peer groups reinforce aggressive, entitled, and competitive masculinities; and highlight how violent masculinities are shaped by social class. Within these pages we are offered a demonstration of structural intersectional analysis. The authors root the problem of partner abuse in contemporary circumstances, continually referring to modern phenomena, including the #MeToo movement. Finally, all contributors employ skillful ways to humanize the problem of violence against women, rescuing the topic from alienating abstractions by reminding us of the lived experiences of abuse.

Key Insights

In “The Use of Structural Intersectionality as a Method to Analyze How the Domestic Violence Civil Protective Order Process Replicates Inequality,” Alesha Durfee exposes the barriers and problems associated with civil protection orders and demonstrates both the need and application of intersectionality—as theory and method—to address pressing challenges. Protective orders masquerade as being “victim-friendly” but are really engineered for normative and “credible” victims: White, cis, heterosexual, and middle-class women. Durfee challenges us to examine our assumptions but also holds our institutions accountable by investigating the ways in which inequalities are reproduced by their various mechanisms. This is accomplished through intersectional research. This approach outlined by Durfee will be a useful critique of all manner of responses to domestic violence, both civil and criminal, allowing researchers to carefully weigh benefits against possible harms caused by any legal intervention.

Durfee is careful to point out that “intersectionality” often appears in scholarship because it is in vogue, rather than being deployed in a meaningful way. Three forms of intersectionality—structural, political, and representational—are offered by Crenshaw (1991) who is the original architect of the theory. In this article, however, Durfee focuses on structural intersectionality in a way that skillfully reveals how the experiences of multiple marginalized survivors are circumscribed by a whole host of institutional practices which, in fact, may leave women more vulnerable to violence. Specifically, Durfee identifies six institutional mechanisms that function to reproduce inequalities. These measurable mechanisms arise out of a disjunction between our assumptions about survivors and their actual lived experiences. This approach begs the need to examine the situated oppression, agency, and privilege of survivors and their abusers. It requires centering the lived experiences of multiply marginalized individuals in our intervention efforts and appreciating complexity rather than relying on ideological constructions or potentially essentializing demographic categories.

In the article titled, “Bringing Feminist Sociological Analysis of Patriarchy Back to the Forefront of the Study of Woman Abuse,” Walter DeKeseredy documents a 50-year history of the study of violence against women, noting major paradigm shifts, most notably, the theoretical achievements of radical feminists in the 1970s. In particular, the shift in focus toward power relations constituted a major leap in understanding the problem of violence against women. And yet, in the last 16 years, DeKeseredy points out that scholarship on violence against women has moved away from the concept of patriarchy in favor of more individual explanations. To the extent that this body of literature has been “deradicalized,” DeKeseredy documents how patriarchy fell out of favor with scholars who study female abuse. Scholars may be under pressure to “soften” their analysis in a neoliberal political climate, particularly if they are seeking grants and want to be successful in corporate-like university settings. In addition, men’s rights groups, and similarly conservative and heteronormative institutions, have been successful in lobbying efforts to be recognized as “victims” in key legislation, thus diluting the gender focus in anti-abuse policies.

It is widely known and punctuated here by DeKeseredy that most scholarship on violence against women lacks devoted theoretical attention. DeKeseredy laments the rise of a theoretical work on private violence, as well as the absence of feminist analysis, which signals a depoliticized body of work that favors more conservative approaches to knowledge production. In response, DeKeseredy suggests ways to move feminist sociological analysis forward by developing networks of colleagues with whom we might share our scholarship and to engage in public sociology where we devote time to the cause of eliminating oppression and sexism. Such activism might take the form of giving talks, engaging with mainstream media, participating in social movements, providing educational resources, and advocating for survivors.

Martin Schwartz, in “Masculinities, Sport and Violence Against Women: The Contribution of Male Peer Support Theory,” invites the reader to revisit Male Peer Support (MPS) theory as scholars consider the connection between violence against women, sports, and masculinities, an area of scholarship that has stalled in the last 15 years. In a nutshell, MPS theory explores how some male groups exchange messages of power and dominance that serve to encourage or support violence against women. There are, of course, multiple masculinities, but even in their diversity, most masculinities are still informed by hierarchy and are relational. Learned cultural norms of masculine performance take place in these relational contexts where, for example, “real men” are expected to express disdain for women. We see contempt for women frequently with sporting masculinities where, as Schwartz points out, athletes are more likely than the general population to commit violence against women. Poor athletic performance is “feminized,” and athletic success is not only a key characteristic of ideal manhood but is decidedly anti-female. The segregation in sports, along with a shared homophobic and sexist discourse, supports aggression toward females.

In addition, outside of the realm of sports, MPS shines a light on the “manosphere” where we see a rise in “angry white men” who are experiencing aggrieved entitlement, where the experience of being “left behind” in a changing world has manifested in outrage toward women who are accused of having taken something that “belongs” to them. Males relate within peer groups, which provides reinforcement and support for the outrage over their loss of control and perceived patriarchal privilege. Finally, in reviewing key studies and existing theory on masculinities, Schwartz suggests the possibility of incorporating Manhood Acts Theory into MPS. Manhood Acts Theory focuses on performances and microlevel actions that men actually “do” to achieve dominance.

In “Hidden Dramas of Masculinity: Women’s Perspectives on Intimate Violence in Different Social Classes,” James Ptacek presents compelling research that explores abuse among both economically privileged and economically disadvantaged women and households in women’s accounts of the presentations of masculinity by their former abusive partners. What is particularly brilliant about this analysis is that the “hidden dramas of masculinity” exceeded any one incident of abuse. Rather, controlling behavior was evident in the men’s identities, desires for recognition, their deep disdain for women, the struggle for dignity, and beliefs about being entitled to power and dominance. As Ptacek presents results organized by social class, we can see how class and privilege shape and mold violent masculinities. Moreover, the study participants described a sharp difference in private masculine performance and public masculinities. Thus the “hidden”—or private—dramas of abuse seemed to provide a certain sense of superiority for abusers, while the public performance may have involved the projection of an entirely different type of man.

Contemporary Challenges

As researchers who study violence against women, we are continually faced with new challenges as we witness rapid social change. At the time of this writing in April 2020, 95% of the U.S. population is under a shelter-in-place order to control the spread of COVID-19. This pandemic has resulted in a global surge in domestic violence cases. The United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres warned of a “horrifying surge in domestic violence cases” around the globe due to coronavirus lockdowns (Neuman, 2020). We know that partner abuse, sexual violence, and child abuse increase—often dramatically—during and immediately following disasters (Delica, 1998; Fothergill, 1998, 1999, 2008; Jenkins & Phillips, 2008). In this current pandemic, which shares characteristics of natural disasters, women in violent partnerships may be unable to simultaneously protect themselves from the dangers associated with pandemic or catastrophe and seek safety from their abusers (Fothergill, 1998).

Meanwhile, due to the closing of large sectors of the economy in response to the pandemic, the unemployment rate may be the highest since WWII (Horsley, 2020). Unemployment is a trigger for domestic violence. Violence may be a response to tensions brought on by economic hardship (Gartner & McCarthy, 1991). Indeed, in a sweeping anthropological study decades ago, Peggy Reeves Sanday (1981) established that rape is more likely under conditions of food scarcity, migration, and conflict. It is not surprising then, as Sanday (1981) discovered, that in times of resource deprivation, tribes were more likely to look to men’s fierce and violent capacities for survival. Moreover, during times of conflict, violent masculinities are given higher status. As social, ecological, and natural crises and disasters mount, private violence escalates.

How might the insights in this volume guide us through this sudden and catastrophic situation? Durfee, Schwartz, Ptacek, and DeKeseredy all point out in various ways that we must look beyond immediate circumstances to the patriarchal scripts that cast men as dominant over women. These scholars ultimately guide us to look past the obvious relationship of resource deprivation and abuse toward the conclusion that patriarchy and capitalism are co-constituted and create social norms that dictate that males must be both aggressive and economically successful. When facing pandemics or disasters, our existing gender inequalities are aggravated and amplified. Following a disastrous flood in Australia that gave way to soaring reports of domestic violence, field reporters observed that “Human relations were laid bare and the strengths and weaknesses in relationships came more sharply into focus. Thus, socially isolated women became more isolated, domestic violence increased, and the core of relationships with family, friends and spouses were exposed” (Dobson, 1994, p. 12). Even in a pandemic that exacerbates abuse, we must bring our attention to deeply entrenched, harmful, and regressive social configurations.

Pandemic aside, this is a very worrisome moment in history. There is a tremendous partisan divide. Inequality is at a five-decade high. The tone of our political discourse has abandoned decorum and, at times, grown particularly vitriolic. In the past, scholars looked to state intervention to address the problem of violence against women. As both Durfee and DeKeseredy point out, this alliance has largely failed. Now we have skepticism about state intervention and are wary of its paternalistic role. The current president of the United States was caught on tape admitting to sexual assault, but it did not compromise his success in securing the most influential office in the country. The Kavanaugh hearings for a U.S. Supreme Court seat revealed that sexual assault is not taken seriously enough by individuals who occupy the most influential law-making positions in our country. Moreover, our history of reliance on state intervention to address the problem of violence against women served to fortify law and order politics, the same “get tough” legislation that has ravaged communities of color. As Durfee so deftly points out in this volume, this unlikely alliance between anti-violence activists and “get tough” politicians have contributed to alarmingly punitive conditions in the United States, exacerbating the very same oppressions that correlate with violence against women.

Given the challenges we face as scholars who are engaged with social justice projects, it is very discouraging and overwhelming to try to make an impact at a macro level. In echoing the suggestion from DeKeseredy in this volume to engage in a kind of activism, or public sociology, we must redirect our efforts to very localized, backyard, neighborhood-level interventions. The #MeToo movement is one powerful, positive social force that has already produced meaningful social change. DeKeseredy concludes his paper by finding hope in the #MeToo movement which has brought visibility, credibility, and energy to the global problem of violence against women. I pick up where he left off and devote the remainder of this commentary to addressing what the #MeToo movement is signaling to scholars about new ways of thinking about violence against women and how this volume of work highlights key areas for focus and change.

#MeToo and New Ways of Thinking About Violence Against Women

The #MeToo movement exploded in the last few years with such a speed that we have an unmistakable sense that consciousness is being transformed. Because millions took to social media to share their personal experiences of abuse and sexual assault, #MeToo has become a global issue. Now we see some of the most unlikely voices saying #MeToo, such as Catholic nuns, male sexual assault survivors, and women in India (Hillstrom, 2019). Although the current success of this movement is built on the women who came forward long before #MeToo, the courage of millions of survivors, often facing great stigma and backlash, generated a sea change in our culture. This #MeToo moral crusade comes out of the law not really working, out of a failure of political promise. Moreover, one of the major lessons of the movement so far is that legal change is not enough. Legal change needs to be accompanied by cultural change.

All four authors in this volume speak to the need to create cultural change through reinventing masculinities, thinking intersectionally, and taking patriarchy seriously in our theorizing and analysis. As DeKeseredy reminds us, too much of our research has become depoliticized and stripped of crucial theorizing about hierarchy, gender, and dominance. The #MeToo movement has offered us an opportunity to take advantage of this cultural shift and to continue to push for true nuanced conversations about imbalances of power surrounding gender-based violence. It has already resulted in new ways of addressing violence, aggression, and sexual assault. For instance, we are increasingly revising our language and pushing for new forms of consciousness. The #MeToo movement and our skepticism about state intervention offer us a “grassroots opportunity” where we can work in our own towns, workplaces, shelters, and neighborhoods to call out institutionalized sexism, confront problematic masculinities, and resist the normalization of harassment and assault.

Although the #MeToo movement has seen numerous successes, much of it has been for and about White privileged women while people of color remain overlooked. The movement has seen real accountability and change, with noted successes of finally believing and supporting survivors. But many women of color have communicated to us that the #MeToo movement has not represented their stories, even though the movement was founded by activist Tarana Burke who is African American (Cherniavsky, 2019). Durfee’s work on intersectionality presented in this volume is of critical importance as we move forward with our anti-violence work in the era of #MeToo. The familiar social hierarchy that determines whose voices are heard—and who is believed—is reflected in this movement. Take, for example, the case of R. Kelly, who has a long history of sex crimes against young girls. All of R. Kelly’s victims were people of color. Despite decades of perpetrating abuse, R. Kelly was not held accountable until just last year (Fortin, 2018). The movement has also given less attention to immigrant women in low-wage jobs who are far more vulnerable, who labor in isolation, and are less likely to attract our attention. Moving beyond narrow vectors of identity requires compassionate learning about our unique social experiences marked by race, class, nation, ability, gender, and so on.

Although White celebrities in Hollywood are the favored #MeToo testimonies, women of color face harassment and assault at higher rates than White women (Department of Justice, 2006). Native American women have the highest rate of sexual assault in the country. According to the Department of Justice (2019), American Indians are 2.5 times more likely to experience sexual assault crimes compared with all other races, and one in three Native women reports having been raped in her lifetime. Yet, Native women are rarely named in national discourse regarding violence against women. Even in high school, students of color report higher rates of sexual violence, and sexual violence is highest among lower-income women (Bureau of Justice Statistics, 2013). Tarana Burke, the founder of MeToo, warns that “if marginalized voices—those of people of color, queer people, disabled people, poor people—aren’t centered in our movements then they tend to become no more than a footnote” (Onwuachi-Willig, 2018, p. 1). Support, research, and intervention should prioritize acknowledging the extremely different experiences of women in America. Ptacek’s article in this volume is a powerful example of this, as his scholarship exposes how economic class shapes the experience of both masculine performance and partner abuse. We cannot take women as a monolithic category, nor can we assume that the #MeToo testimonies represent all women who have experienced harassment and assault.

Conclusion

Moving forward, we cannot just rely on legal entities to intervene anymore. While we urgently need more people in government who understand these issues, the bulk of our work needs to happen outside of electoral politics. Those of us who have the resources, influence, and a platform can start today. We can create opportunities for people to come forward with experiences of abuse, and we can choose to believe a person anytime they say #MeToo. These stories are important as it is more challenging to get others to take assault seriously enough to act in the absence of testimony. Mass disclosure is empowering, but problematic, if survivors do not have the support to process their experience; therefore, we also need support mechanisms in place. Retaliation is an issue, as survivors are still shamed, blamed, and punished. Indeed, in this volume, Martin Schwartz is vocal about the backlash against various sexual assault cases on social media, which points to a rape culture that is alive and well, where victims of sexual assault are still vilified and attacked.

DeKeseredy brings our attention to the need to create and sustain forums of solidarity in our elusive quest for justice. We can create communities of support and care where we encourage conversations about abuses of power, the difficulty in speaking out about abuse, appropriate behavior in the workplace, what consent really means, reading nonverbal cues through body language, basic healthy boundaries, and what constitutes healthy relationships. This #MeToo cultural shift has given us even more license to closely examine power dynamics and demand that power cannot be misused. Understanding the complexities of power dynamics will begin to eclipse the familiar victim-blaming of “Why didn’t she just leave?” We should, of course, continue to work to transform systems that uphold and maintain gender violence, but there is also important work to do at the interpersonal level, identifying small changes that are possible in our daily lives. As Schwartz and Ptacek remind us in these pages, the rituals that shape masculinity should come under scrutiny. We should also be critically aware, as DeKeseredy implores us, of how our scholarship and activism are shaped in this neoliberal context.

Challenges remain. Gender-based violence is aggravated by modern diasporas, and individuals who live on the margins face greater risks and deserve our attention: immigrants, refugees, queer-identified persons in prison, and children. Disability is a lesser-explored topic in the violence against women literature, even as we understand the potentially devastating long-term consequences of living with disabilities resulting from abuse. Finally, I would like to see the study of violence against women take an ecological turn. Our widespread cultural belief that humans are superior to ecosystems and nonhumans is a hierarchy of “superiority and inferiority” that parallels those same hierarchies that support and uphold interpersonal violence. In addition, our struggle to fix problems in human relationships takes place on an exploited, depleted planet. And environmental crises exacerbate the very problems we are trying to fix. The belief that gender-based violence is one result of progressive climate change is widely accepted and backed by robust evidence (Adger et al., 2014).

In closing, my global interpretation of these four compelling contributions is that moving from violence to nonviolence means creating new patterns of institutional and interpersonal interactions. It also calls for courageously taking stock of the extent to which our scholarship is organized within inequality regimes and undertaking a commitment to engage in meaningful theorizing that moves us toward a more just world.