Explaining the Gender Gap in Fear of Crime

Gendered Socialization and Fear

Another source of vulnerability can come from gendered socialization processes which directly affect one’s assessment of being or not being a suitable target. I see this as having multiple dimensions: (a) being socialized to express fear, (b) to fear specific crimes, (c) to know conditions where crime is more likely, and (d) to assess one’s ability to handle crime. Men and women are typically socialized in different ways that may influence fear of crime. Some argue that sex-role socialization encouraging passivity and dependence in women heightens women’s fear and increases their sense of vulnerability, whereas men may be socialized not to express fear. According to Madriz (1997), the media serves as a powerful agent of socialization, the “dominant images that reflect structural gender divisions and present women as comparatively vulnerable, weak, powerless, and passive and men as forceful, strong, powerful, and active” (p. 14). As a result, women may be taught that they are powerless in the face of crime and, hence, see themselves as more attractive targets and more vulnerable, should an attack occur.

Women may also be more revealing in their feelings of fear than their male counterparts when surveyed (Stanko, 1990) because of general socialization that encourages women to be emotionally expressive (Maccoby, 1998). Perhaps, women are reporting levels of fear accurately, whereas men dissimulate. It may not be that men have lower levels of fear per se, but rather that men may employ different ways of talking about crime that are less obviously emotional and thus not fully captured with standard survey instruments. Maccoby and Jacklin (1970) find evidence for a “greater general anxiety of girls and women” across numerous studies (p. 186); however, they argue that studies that focus on fearful behavior usually do not find sex differences. Others argue that women may be more astute observers of their environmental context than men in similar situations, which might explain part of the gender differences in reported levels of fear (Smith & Torstensson, 1997). However, other research reports that men and women respond to fear of crime with different behavioral changes (e.g., Gordon & Riger, 1989). This suggests there may be gender differences in expression of fear but it may not always lead to changes in behaviors. Possible gender differences in behavioral responses to fear of crime is an important research question but beyond the scope of the current article.

Learning to Fear: Rape as a Sex-Specific Risk

Rape is often treated in the fear of crime literature as the master variable that explains the gender gap. The paradox that women have higher fear despite lower objective risk of victimization (based on official reports) was explained by researchers by fear of (stranger) rape as a “master offense” which heightens fear of all crimes (Ferraro, 1995, 1996; Fisher & Sloan, 2003; Lane & Meeker, 2003; Riger, Gordon, & Le Bailly, 1978; Warr, 1984). Women may be more fearful of crime due to a specific crime—sexual assault—of which they are more likely to be a victim. In fact, women in all racial and ethnic groups and all age categories are fearful of rape (Ferraro, 1996; Madriz, 1997; Stanko, 1995; Tulloch & Jennett, 2001; Warr, 1985). This greater sense of vulnerability may stem from greater perceived risk and socialization about fear of rape. Furthermore, researchers argue that rape is not a rare event and that women are often highly concerned about this risk because of its physical, psychological, and emotional ramifications and its long aftermath (Gordon & Riger, 1989). Warr (1984) goes so far as to claim “it may well be that . . . fear of crime is fear of rape” (p. 700).

Although, in general, women are overall less likely to be victimized, official crime statistics indicate that they are almost exclusively the target of sexual crimes. ¹ Of course, official statistics are problematic and incomplete for both men and women, but less is probably known about male victims of sexual assault due to lack of reporting. The importance of underreported crimes, particularly by known offenders (Stanko, 1992), is also an issue. This gender-specific fear thus might reflect recognition of higher risk of a specific violent, highly damaging offense that underlines the vulnerability of women (Hindelang, Gottfredson, & Garofalo, 1978; Young, 1992). From this perspective, the threat of rape makes women more sensitive to signals of crime; thus, fear of rape accounts for the gender gap as Warr argued.

Others argue that fear of rape is related to how gender is experienced in daily life. Women’s vulnerability to crime may be less about specific instances of rape and more about a general sexual objectification of women in public spaces by unfamiliar men. Women’s concern regarding sexual assault may be tied to the unwanted attention, unsolicited remarks, and catcalls that women often receive as they maneuver through city streets and public places. It has been suggested that such acts of sexual harassment serve as everyday reminders to women of their secondary status and situational disadvantage in public places (Gardner, 1995; Pain, 2001) and perpetuates women’s fear of crime and assessments of them as culpable victims (Madriz, 1997). In addition, these remarks are specifically connected to concerns about rape (MacMillan, Nierobisz, & Welsh, 2000; Medea & Thompson, 1974; Stanko, 1990) which is often cited as the main reason behind women’s higher fear in the first place. Of course, fear of rape is not unique to women (Lane & Meeker, 2003; May, 2001) but women are more often the target of sexual crimes based on official crime statistics. Although fear of rape may be situationally or contextually specific, fear of rape is one expression of fear of crime that differs by men and women.

Gender, Agency, and Defensibility

Men and women are typically socialized to fear crime not only in gendered ways but also in how they respond to the threat of victimization. This is associated with physical differences among men and women in terms of typical size and strength as well as gendered norms about differences in emotionality and ability to handle difficult situations. All or some of these factors might have consequences for perceived efficacy—where it is lacking, respondents might express more fear. This cuts across men and women, although on average this would tend to have broader implications for women than men due to their smaller (average) physical stature and strength. In focus group discussions about vulnerability and fear of crime, Hollander (2001) found that men defined themselves and were defined by others as protectors, and women were defined as in need of protection. This extends to work on fear of crime for others where research (Snedker, 2006) shows that men’s greater altruistic fear is related to socialization processes that teach men to play the role of protector and women to value that role. These gender norms affect men and women’s perception about their ability to handle victimization or the need to rely on others for assistance. To the extent that these gender norms are a part of cultural expectations, they influence how men and women are perceived by others and how much gender plays in being a vulnerable target.

The remainder of this article explores the differential vulnerability thesis. Specifically, I explore what drives gender differences in fear of crime through an analysis of the concerns and fears that men and women expressed about crime and recollections of direct and indirect victimization in interviews.

Individual Targets

Perceiving oneself a target of possible victimization has multiple components and subcategories as it relates to gender including physicality, age, keenness, lifestyle practices, and prior victimization. Although this has implications for a specific individual, the assessments of vulnerability did not merely reflect their own individual circumstances but an understanding of how gender organizes social life. A recurring theme in the interviews reflected physical vulnerability. The theme of increased vulnerability has been linked to a greater sensitivity to differences in physical strength (Stafford & Galle, 1984; Warr, 1984) and general physical vulnerability (Killias & Clerici, 2000). Women did talk about being physically vulnerable due to their sex and size (Madriz, 1997). For example, in response to a question asking her why she was concerned about her own safety, Maria, a 38-year-old Hispanic woman, stated, “Because I’m short and I’m a female.” However, a more frequent response linked physical vulnerability with age.

Examples of physical vulnerability linked to physical weakness or infirmity were often age related, as can been seen in the following comment:

I have physical problems. My vision is bad. I have macular degeneration. I can’t see red. I can’t see yellow. And I worry about crossing the street [being hit by a car]. . . . My concern with safety for myself has to do with the fact that I can’t walk as quickly as I used to. (Olga, 80-year-old White woman)

In addition to illness and infirmity, older respondents consistently mentioned that his or her age was relevant as it heightened physical vulnerability. Older women, in particular, felt more vulnerable. When discussing the risks she observed in the subway, Marta, a 70-year-old White Russian immigrant, stated,

Yeah, just the look of it and just to listen on the news somebody pushed somebody under the . . . oh my God. I’m older woman. I don’t want to be the victim . . . they try to victimize the older people. . . . They are slow. They cannot move. . . . You can’t move fast, you can’t think fast, everything goes slow now. Because I’m old.

Many female respondents expressed this concern. Ursula, a 62-year-old White Russian immigrant, worried about her age, “And especially since I’m older and I feel more vulnerable also. I’m not as resistant as I was when I was 20 years old.”

This was not only the case for female respondents. Individuals with diminished mobility due to a disability may also feel more vulnerable. I interviewed one man whose physical handicap made him more concerned about being a victim of crime.

The fact that I am slow and walk with two canes, I’m at the subway or bus and I have diminished physical capacity, yeah I think about it [being a victim of crime]. Especially at the time in the past year or two when we’ve had situations with people being pushed into the subway tracks. I probably thought more about the fearfulness of it for myself . . . If you hear about something like the thrown into the subway thing, you think about it. If I were there, would I be able to physically defend myself in a situation like that? (Chester, 56-year-old White man)

Another male respondent expressed little fear of crime but did feel that his age is making him more vulnerable than he was when he was younger:

Now that I’m getting older, it’s more difficult to think of myself as being able to take care of myself, especially if it’s more than one person. If two or three guys were coming at me, I can’t deal with that, in terms of protecting myself. I’m a little concerned about that. (Edward, a 71-year-old White man)

There is a clear difference between the comments the elderly women make about being “slow” and “resistant” compared with the middle-aged man who is actually physically handicapped. Chester, who “walks with two canes,” is pointing out a much more dramatic age-related physical problem than the women, and this makes them different types of “individual targets.” This contrast highlights that, in my sample, women felt more vulnerable and were similar to older men with physical limitations—but men were beginning to have greater fear of crime concerns as they age. This is consistent with researchers that claim that the elderly are more fearful due to their greater physical and social vulnerability (Bachman, 1992). Moreover, a somewhat disproportionate number of the elderly are women (Baumer, 1978), which explain some of the gender differences. The intersection of gender and age—as part of one’s vulnerability assessment—are reflective of recent research on older women (Meyer & Post, 2006). Due to gendered assessments of vulnerability, older women expressed greater physical vulnerability in my sample.

Lack of Vulnerability

A consistent theme across many interviews was the idea of being or not being a suitable target. Both men and women talked about how their routine activities shielded them in similar ways. Commonly, respondents talked about personal responsibility in avoiding making oneself a target. In addition to physical factors, lack of vulnerability was linked to lifestyles. Susan, a 22-year-old White woman, commented that “if I’m dressed up to go out and I’m running around in a little skirt, I wouldn’t really feel comfortable.” She later said that she does not feel vulnerable anymore because she is neither dressed in a provocative way nor engaged in risky activities, “I’m not running around in tiny little dresses, anymore, for one. My lifestyle has changed.” This resonates with Madriz’s (1997) discussion about “good” and “bad” women and a victim’s imagining herself at fault or being blamed by others for a sexual assault due to self-presentation or lifestyle. The conforming girls—those who do not dress provocatively or go out late alone—imagine that they will be safe or at least be perceived as nonculpable victims. Nonconformists if sexually assaulted are perceived as culpable victims as they made themselves easier targets. Research suggests that this type of victim blaming perpetuates rape myths and is related to hostility toward women by other women (Cowan, 2000).

Among my respondents, it was often the case that men were more likely to imply that they were not as vulnerable due to their strength and physical stature, but assessments of vulnerability are only partially gender driven. Ivan, a 48-year-old White man, reflected, “In my particular case, I think is often more chance of losing property than being attacked directly. That’s because I’m a relatively fit male.” Also, a few female respondents pointed out that being younger shielded them from being perceived as vulnerable. For example, Juanita, a 47-year-old Hispanic woman, stated that “I think I’m still young enough that people don’t look to bother me. I carry myself with character.” Part of the gender gap seems to be about age; elderly women, in particular, have a greater sense of vulnerability. Interestingly, some men expressed some vulnerability similar to women’s that might put older men at risk but for Jack, it did not translate into fear—at least not yet:

As I get older I don’t know what is going to happen. Because the senior citizens are not getting the respect, especially the younger generations should give them . . . You’re an easier target . . . I haven’t got the strength, or I’m not gonna punch anyone or get myself in trouble. Just stay away, avoid arguments avoid fights, if you can make peace, try it. (Jack, 73-year-old White man)

Men referred to their physical stature and sex as protecting them from being a likely victim. The following comments were fairly typical of men when talking about how their physical size lowered their likelihood of victimization.

Typically they [drunks and homeless people] don’t give me any trouble. I seem to be the type they don’t even fight with . . . I’ve a reasonable amount of size, and I guess they figure it’s not worth it and they will pick on somebody smaller. (Ivan, 48-year-old White man)

So far I didn’t have any experiences like that [being a victim of crime]. Maybe because of my size . . . I’m a little bit bigger size than most of the people. They don’t want to deal with me. They prefer to go on to somebody else . . . somebody weaker. (Alex, 36-year-old White man)

Take a look at me. I’m not a little person. Standing almost 6 feet, 200 lbs . . . I’m not a person that someone would try to victimize. That type of person would have to be like someone around 5’2” and only about 140 lbs. (Frank, 36-year-old White man)

Related to size and strength was also one’s ability to fight and protect oneself from an attacker or not to appear defenseless—one’s sense of effective agency. This relates to gender stereotypes about masculinity. The following statement highlights how one’s ability to fight and deal with altercations reduces feelings of anxiety and has clear gender implications:

I feel I can handle myself. I don’t know if she [his wife Florence] is capable . . . Because of my experience in life. I’m a trained killer. Literally. I was in the service. I was trained to kill. I also boxed in Golden Gloves. So I am not afraid of confrontation. Physical confrontation. I’m just not afraid of it. (Edward, a 71-year-old White man)

Another example can be seen in a statement by Miguel, a 43-year-old Hispanic man, in which he explains that his lack of fear is related to his martial-arts skills and his perceived ability to handle an attacker. That his wife and children lacked these fighting skills explained the heightened level of fear he had for them:

I don’t really think much of it [my personal safety], because I really cover all my grounds. I know where I’m going and I know what I have to do. And I always have different scenarios that I play out here in my training [martial arts]. I’m more concerned about my family. Because unlike myself—I’m a seasoned veteran in self-defense and things of that area—but they have some training but there’s a lot of things that they still have to sharpen up on, to stay under and be aware of what is happening. And then if something does happen, how to handle it. So I get concerned.

However, the ability to fight was not restricted to men. In fact, a few women mentioned being able to fight as a protection from victimization and in turn felt less vulnerable. For instance, Abigail, a 24-year-old White woman, felt that she was better able to deal with a situation because she was able to fight. She gave an account of her intervention in a crime and how she fought back, “My mother was pick-pocketed when I was with her. Somebody tried to pickpocket me and I hit them.” Madriz (1997) reports this attitude as common among African American and Latino young women.

In addition to physical size, some respondents spoke of looking larger or more masculine as a factor shielding them from being seen as a potential victim and lessened their vulnerability. Although it was more common for men to refer to their size as decreasing their vulnerability, one woman also considered herself in the same way. When Margaret, a 40-year-old White woman, recounted an incident in which she experienced fear because a man carrying a pipe seemed to be following her, she felt that it was her masculine physicality that protected her.

And I was wearing this parka with a full hood. And because of my size, a lot of times people think I’m a guy because they don’t see my face because of how tall I am. And big. And they think . . . they always say, “Sir.” So maybe this guy thought I was a guy.

Interestingly, this is an exceptional case where a respondent expressed fear although she realized that she was less vulnerable as she was able to “pass” for a man—a gendered performance of physicality.

As echoed in previous statements, prior experience can also shield women from vulnerability. For example, Maria, a retired corrections worker (15 years working at Riker’s Island Correctional Facility), stated that her previous employment made her less vulnerable:

Because I had to become tough . . . It made me rough but it made good points because now I’m very aware of my surroundings . . . I can spot a thief a mile away . . . my senses for that has become sharpened because I’ve seen the kind of inmates when they first come in, how they look, how they talk, how they walk. All of that.

Some men also expressed that they were not suitable targets—and thus not culpable victims—because of behavioral choices or their way of moving around the city. This can be seen in the following quotation:

So I’m relatively unafraid about those kinds of things [being victimized]. I’m out less than I used to be, and I’m now having to worry less about just myself . . . so I’m a little less brazen . . . I can run pretty fast pretty far and that’s not that I’m a big macho guy. That would typically be my approach [to potential victimization], to just flee. But you can’t do that when you’re with your wife and son. So I’m more worried, a lot more worried in those scenarios. (Zach, a 28-year-old White man)

In Zach’s case, he expressed altruistic fear for his wife and child but expressed little fear for himself: In part, his lack of personal fear and presence of fear for others reflects a change in lifestyle that often occurs with marriage and starting a family—not going out late at night or being in “dangerous” places. Other male respondents expressed similar comments:

Yeah, I know some people in NYC live in fear but I don’t know fear. I don’t do anything bad in my life, don’t take drugs, don’t smoke, don’t drink. I don’t do any of that stuff. Don’t join gangs . . . You just mind your business and you just do your job . . . just don’t make trouble. And usually that’s the best prevention really. (Ken, 23-year-old Chinese man)

I’m not out looking to be a victim in any major way . . . Putting myself in situations, being intoxicated, a poor neighborhood, flashing jewelry or money or things like that. That’s all. (Saul, 74-year-old White man)

It was not only men—but was more likely to be men—that expressed a lack of fear as related to their not being culpable targets. The following comment made by a female respondent exemplifies the effect of lifestyle and personal choice in assessments of becoming a victim:

I’m not going to do anything stupid. If I’m coming home really late drunk and I’m by myself, I might be more of a target. (Susan, 22-year-old White woman).

The Role of Sexual Assault

In the fear of crime literature, rape figures prominently in explanations of fear of crime. Contrary to much of the literature in my interviews, only a few women and no men mentioned specific concerns about rape. In fact, for the five men who expressed fear of crime, all of them reported that they were fearful of being robbed/mugged. Of the 12 women who expressed fear of crime, robbery was also the most popular response (n = 7) followed by rape (n = 3) and two respondents were not specific in the type of crime they feared. Although only a few respondents mentioned fear of rape, it needs to be examined in detail, given it is often discussed as a driving explanation for gender disparities in fear of crime levels.

Interestingly, rape concerns were greater for these women than other crimes. The following comment reflects this difference:

I don’t want to be raped. I don’t want to be mugged. I don’t want to be kidnapped. Especially more so raped or anything in that nature . . . I know this may sound ridiculous but I would prefer being robbed than being raped. I think everybody would. (Lili, 30-year-old Chinese woman)

Another woman’s comment demonstrates how sex, physical appearance, and the aftermath of victimization are linked to concerns about rape.

So I grew up never feeling safe and, being a woman, I felt more insecure. I always felt that there was potential to myself, being a woman, of being raped or molested. So I actually let myself gain weight for a period of time. Thinking if I’m more overweight, people won’t pick on me . . . It’s the only thing I’m afraid of because if I lose my money or get injured, I don’t care. But if it’s a rape, then yeah. That would probably be like a whole life time to face it because I read articles about women getting raped and how they deal with it and it’s very hard. And then your boyfriend or husband might have a problem with it. And that would be a big issue because [among the] Chinese, like virtue is a big thing. (Lin, a 23-year-old Chinese woman)

These two women who expressed concerns about rape were both single (with no children) and resided in the Lower East Side. Their vulnerability might be tied to their lack of a protector, their age, the neighborhood (that has a higher incidence of sexual assault). Importantly, both women were Chinese American, and their concerns about rape reflect a clear cultural component to their fear. This finding is consistent with Merry’s research on urban life; she claims that, in general, race and ethnicity are important in shaping the way danger is interpreted (Merry, 1981). These results are contrary to Madriz’s (1997) finding that young White women are more likely to express fear of rape than Black or Latina women (Asian women were not included in her sample). She argues that this discrepancy is due to the images and media portrayal of rape victims as White. Relying on Madriz’s account, it is surprising that none of the White women in my sample expressed fear of rape.

Shima, a 27-year-old Japanese immigrant who is single (with no children) and resides in Flatbush (in an area that is largely Black), expressed safety concerns primarily about rape and secondarily about robbery. Interestingly, she reported that her safety concerns are more predominant in New York than they were in Japan. She recognized that women are at a greater risk for rape but men are not immune: “Of course, women are most likely to be rape victims. But one of my friend’s producers was raped by man. He’s a man too. But you never know.” For her, fear of rape was directly tied to residing in a building with a doorman: “I live on 7th floor and feel pretty safe with the doorman but still I think about should I lock the window or leave it open.” She goes on to differentiate herself from other Asian women who are even more vulnerable:

I think I am a little bit different from the typical Japanese girl . . . who look submissive walk in there, maybe it’s likely to happen more than in my case. Because they know I talk to people and it’s, “Hey, what’s up.” . . . I am also familiar with the neighborhood and they know if somebody does something to me . . . people know me.

The racial composition of her neighborhood—a largely Black area—may be a source of fear, given the stereotypical image of the street criminal and fearful other is often focused around Black men (Anderson, 1990). For Shima, fear is reduced by the fact that she is familiar with the neighborhood and its people and they are familiar with her. She learned not to fear those she came into contact with periodically.

In spite of the lack of rape as a dominating concern among my respondents, it is noteworthy that in most of the comments by women about sexual assault, the focus was on sexual assault by a stranger. The reference to “stranger danger” (Stanko, 1992) is well documented in gender studies of crime, despite the greater objective likelihood of being assaulted by an acquaintance or partner. My respondents’ construction of fear as being outside the private sphere is consistent with studies reflecting the lack of recognition of the home context as a place of greater victimhood. No one in my sample talked about fear of spousal or partner violence even after being probed.

Men saw sexual assault as a gender-specific crime that affected women, but not them, as typical of altruistic fear research showing men’s fear for their partners (Warr & Ellison, 2000). José, a 28-year-old Hispanic man, expressed concerns about being robbed, but acknowledged that “I’m a male so I don’t see myself getting raped or anything like that. Like a female would probably think of that. Raped and robbed. But I just think of it as being robbed.” Nikolai, a 38-year-old man also expressed the possibility of women being raped in the neighborhood. He stated, “Well, yeah [sometimes afraid of crime], I watch TV and so there are usually reports on some accidents or some victims of something that happened. Some rapes. Some violence. Of course I just think if that could happen in our neighborhood.”

No men mentioned fear of rape for themselves but three married men expressed concerns about sexual harassment or rape specifically for their wives and two others for friends or girlfriends. Men’s expressions of fear for their wives are consistent with gender role expectations (Snedker, 2006). For example, Zach, a 28-year-old White man, gave a very specific example of his fears related to his wife:

When we were in the [public] pool at Pitt Street last weekend, I worry about my wife, she’s blonde, attractive and I have heard of lots of groping stories in the swimming pools and the big activity in the pool is guys jumping on girls and throwing them in the water.

In this anecdote, Zach expressed a specific concern that apparently symbolized a broader fear about his wife’s safety and his duty to protect her. Zach always arranged to go with her to the pool. This is similar to a concern expressed by Markus, a 25-year-old White man, about women in his life. He expressed a concern about sexual assault for women that might be visiting him in his apartment as seen in the following statement:

I don’t think about that [personal safety] often. I don’t worry about it really . . . I’m more worried about the visitors that I have, that come to my apartment at 3:00 in the morning buzzing up . . . Because to be honest, if it’s during the morning and somebody is coming in my apartment, they are probably a female and I’m concerned for their safety because of the rapes that did happen a couple of years ago.

In response to concerns about crime for his family, Vladek, a 50-year-old Ukrainian immigrant, discussed having family sessions to talk about safety in which he directed his wife to alter her dress: “My wife, I told her, ‘Don’t wear short skirts. It could be like a provocation. Especially for Spanish people, they are very, very hot.’ Be careful.” Similar types of concerns were echoed by Ari, a 32-year-old White man:

I worry about my wife . . . If she comes home late at night, I don’t have a fear of her in the neighborhood, but I have a general concern of her on the train . . . there is crime and so if it’s late . . . Part of it is there has been a series of rapes on the trains a few years ago. I worry about that.

Many men expressed specific risks for women while many women did not. Consider the following conversation in which Grace, a 43-year-old Black woman, shares her lack of fear of rape, despite warnings from other women. To the extent that Grace has been socialized to fear rape, she does not fear rape, as seen in the following conversation:

Once again she refers to dress in how vulnerability for women is partially constructed. Clearly, it is not universal for all women to be overwhelmed by concerns about rape. Indeed, another female respondent explicitly stated that she was not concerned about rape. She also makes an important distinction between stranger and date rape:

I think probably the most likely would be that I would be pick-pocketed. . . . I’m not afraid of somebody grabbing me and raping me or something like that. I tend to think those crimes come from somebody wanting something like money or something . . . I think that [robbery] would be a sort of quick crime; they want to get the money from me as soon as possible. Threaten me and take something and go away. (Abigail, 24-year-old White woman)

This quotation suggests that Abigail is aware—at least to some degree—of crime patterns. Such differential knowledge—other respondents did not make such distinctions—might explain her lower level of fear. She holds a 4-year college degree from a prestigious ivy-league university and comes from highly educated parents, with her mother holding a PhD and her father an MD. Her education level and that of her parents are substantially higher than the average, which may explain her lack of fear of rape.

Maria, a 38-year-old Hispanic woman, discussed a rape that occurred in her building, in which she intervened, but did not mention (even after being probed) being concerned about or fearful of being raped.

There was a woman who got raped in the building and we heard the screams. And me and my neighbor we came outside and we’re females but we . . . called 911 and the screams was . . . you could have heard them on the first floor. And it was just me and her. It wasn’t like it was 3:00 in the morning, even if it was 3:00 in the morning. I think it was like 11:00 at night.

Only one of my respondents reported having been raped. Billie, a 44-year-old Black woman, suffered from a brutal rape and attempted murder by a stranger in the foyer of her building. Despite this victimization experience, she was not very fearful of crime and did not express concern about being raped again. In Billie’s case, she explained that she is now a recovering drug addict and, since she has been clean, she feels more control over her life and what happens to her. In this way, she expressed that her lifestyle and the environmental contexts make her feel like less of a vulnerable target. Billie’s lack of fear is interesting, especially given her prior victimization. However, other women in the sample expressed a lack of fear of rape due to similar assessments of vulnerability and risk.

For this sample of female respondents, fear of rape was not widespread and it was the exceptional few that were concerned about rape. Slightly less than half of the sample expressed fear of crime (12 out of 27) and only three of those expressed fear of rape. That means that only 3 women out of the 27 (11%) expressed fear of rape. Although one cannot draw too great a conclusion from a small sample, these responses call into question the central role that fear of rape is said to play in the fear of crime literature. Some might argue that women are always vulnerable targets and, to the extent that women do not express fear of crime, they are dissimulating perhaps as a result of traumatic denial or some other coping strategy. However, that interpretation could obscure the role of social context and risk assessment. Moreover, it could privilege an a priori understanding of fear—women are naturally fearful of rape—regardless of how the women themselves perceive their social world. Although the low level of fear of rape reported by respondents in this study seems at odds with previous literature, these reports came in response to multiple open-ended questions in intensive interviews. In my data, there is not convincing evidence that fear of rape, either through direct or indirect victimization, is the master variable driving fear of crime. Women’s vulnerability to crime may be less about specific instances of rape and more about a general sexual objectification of women in public spaces by unfamiliar men. This is one aspect of the environmental context on fear of sexual assault. However, other aspects of the local context affect fear of crime more generally.

Space and Environmental Context

The urban environment generally poses different threats for men and women and gender perceptions in environmental cues might explain some of the gender differences in fear of crime. Space, time, and individual characteristics affect how such cues are structured and one’s assessment of safety and fear (Merry, 1981). Smith and Torstensson (1997) conclude that women’s greater fear of crime is partially driven by their greater “ecological vulnerability.” They go on to suggest that women react to the same levels of risk with more fear than men and that women are not only more sensitive to risk but also more perceptive than men due to differential socialization processes. Meyer and Post (2006) build on this theme in a qualitative study of women (above 50 years of age) and argue that perceptions about community violence and the availability of “safe places” were important themes in assessing women’s fear.

Women’s concern regarding fear of crime may be tied to the attention and unsolicited remarks that women receive as they maneuver through city streets and public places. Women, especially young women, face insults and annoyances that can even sometimes feel threatening. Such commentary ranges from friendly and flirtatious to offensive, intrusive, and threatening. Researchers argue that such commentary can be degrading and places women at a disadvantage in public places (Duneier & Molotch, 1999; Gardner, 1995; Spain, 1992). Men, on the whole, are not subjected to this unsolicited, evaluative, and often threatening commentary that degrades how women are treated in public (Gardner, 1980). I did not find evidence to support that this was associated with greater fear of crime in general or sexual assault among my respondents. Women were asked about being accosted by men on the street or who were the targets of unsolicited comments and many did not feel more vulnerable. Consider the following two remarks:

Homeless people and lots of Hispanic men who yell at me and stuff. I mean make me feel generally uncomfortable. There’s a school and the boys will yell at you. . . . It’s not potentially threatening, but you know, when someone will catcall after you, or something, and sort of say gross shit. It’s not exactly just like you’re friendly construction worker smiling and nodding his head. It’s kind of gross. Sometimes they get more personal in their language. (Susan, 22-year-old White woman)

People harass me and they will make comments and stuff but I yell at them and I say, “I’ve lived here for two years and you do this to me all the time.” And then they stop. I don’t really get a sense that anyone is out to hurt me. It’s just sort of different styles of courtesy or something. (Abigail, 24-year-old White woman)

Abigail’s statement highlights her tenure in the neighborhood as a source of reduced vulnerability. Once Abigail verbalized her frustration, the harassment from those particular individuals seemed to stop. Interestingly, later in the interview, Abigail returned to the topic of street harassment in which she provided clarification of the conditions under which it might scare her. In the following statement, Abigail makes the crucial distinction between day and night to explain why she is not fearful:

There are very loud people there that say threatening things to you when I’m there during the day. And that hasn’t proven to be a problem because it’s day. But they tend to congregate all in the same corner and so I can sort of avoid them. But I would not want to run into them at night.

It may be that for both respondents, they only experience fear at night and not in the day. The two women who mentioned street remarks as an annoyance indicated that it lowers their quality of urban life, but does not make them feel more vulnerable to crime or fearful in their neighborhood, except possibly at night.

Another young woman did express fear of crime, including rape, (see also quotation from Shima on page 17), but downplays the impact due to her familiarity with the area and people and keenness of character as expressed in the following statement:

I have those friends and I told you, neighbors . . . and they [possible perpetrators] know if somebody do something to me . . . people know me . . . I think I can tell those guys’ attitude. Those are regular people but usually in that neighborhood when I just walk down the street, in a short skirt like this. . . . “Hey, how you doing cutie [in a friendly way].” (Shima, 27-year-old Japanese immigrant)

The previous two quotations suggest that there might be some lingering effects of public harassment (that seems to be at least in part of a sexual nature) on fear of crime. Although Susan and Abigail state that they are not fearful of these incidents, it has affected how they think about criminal victimization. Shima also suggested that there are places that you do not go to at night, “After dark, I try not to walk there. That is the wrong thing to do.” This suggests that some places or congregations of people may be harmless in the day but that nighttime heightens one’s risks.

Maria, a 38-year-old Hispanic woman highlights the importance of space in determining vulnerability: “Sometimes you shouldn’t be in certain areas but you have no choice, like going to school. You try to walk with someone. You should always try to walk with someone.” In general, the more familiar respondents were with a neighborhood and its people, the better they could assess risk and thus reduce risk. The level of familiarity with other residents and workers in the area may curtail feelings of fear (Merry, 1981).

Olga, an 80-year-old Russian immigrant, felt very comfortable in her neighborhood—where she was very familiar—and was not afraid or particularly concerned about being a victim. She stated,

Something can happen anywhere. . . . It did happen. I saw it right at the bakery where somebody grabbed a woman’s bag and then ran. I have had my wallet taken in this area. But these incidents are infrequent. We don’t have gangs of people attacking, mugging residents.

Olga realized that it was uncommon and the gang-related crimes that did elicit fear for her were not present in her neighborhood; the source of her fear came from her physical infirmity (see quotation on page 11).

One young male respondent suggested that his lack of fear was partly due to the city itself, the people and the government. Markus, a 25-year-old White man stated that

I feel safe. I really do feel safe in NYC . . . Just practical . . . there’s some type of mental advancement that people who live in New York have that other people don’t have because you have tons of people living, rubbing shoulders, bumping into people on the sidewalk regularly and you don’t have fights all the time breaking out. And that gives me faith. That puts faith in different people. I put faith in the police. I think Guiliani did a job of turning the City around and the crime has gone down. These are little things that make me not afraid.

No women made such blanket statements about their safety in the city. His lack of fear reflects the importance of street use as an important sign of safety and the functionability of the city (Jacobs, 1961). However, it might be for men that strangers on the street do not signal motivated offenders, whereas for women, strangers might arouse fear. Thus, men and women read environmental cues of strangers differently as they might pose different threats. However, once strangers become more familiar, women also reduce their levels of fear of crime.

Environmental Cues

It is by understanding the perceptions of particular risks that we can account for the higher reported fear of crime for women. Both men and women rely on environmental conditions to signal certain risks which translate into different levels of perceived vulnerability. Through an analysis of the gender differences in fear of crime, assessments of risk, and differential vulnerability, I have identified several processes that are operating including socialization, social learning process, and effective agency.

Women may have higher levels of fear of crime due to higher perceived risks through signals of neighborhood conditions and examinations of vulnerability. Local variation in neighborhood histories and conditions (Merry, 1981; Suttles, 1968) do influence assessments of danger. Interestingly, in my data, there were differences by neighborhood. A larger percentage of Flatbush/Midwood residents expressed personal fear of crime (10/23 compared with 7/29 for the Lower East Side).This might be related to the higher percentage of Blacks in the neighborhood and its higher rates of violent crime. While a majority of those respondents that expressed personal fear of crime (59%) resided in Flatbush/Midwood, one might expect it to be even higher, given the documented linkage between the percentage of the population that is Black and fear of crime (Anderson, 1990). It is worth noting that the split between women expressing personal fear of crime was comparable in both neighborhoods. It was not the case that all the women who expressed fear of crime—or fear of rape—resided in one of the two neighborhoods.

Overcoming Socialization: Learning Not to Fear

Women are socialized to be fearful of rape, but many women learned through experience that it is not as big a risk as others had suggested and relaxed their anxiety about rape. For example, by not being victimized or becoming familiar with strangers they perceived might initially pose risks, women reassess their vulnerability to rape. Moreover, local context and tenure in the neighborhood reduced such fears. Thus, there was not much evidence in favor of rape as a master variable driving the gender gaps in fear of crime. Generally, the more familiar respondents were with the neighborhood and its people, the better they could calculate risk and thus reduce risk. However, there was a striking effect of race in the discussion of fear of rape. In my sample, all three of those who feared rape were Asian, and one a recent immigrant. Madriz (1997) focused on Hispanics and African Americans (she did not sample any Asians), whereas no Hispanic or African American women in my sample expressed fear of rape. Clearly, race, ethnicity, and immigration status may shape fear of crime, but it is beyond the scope of the present article to sort out each of their separate effects.

Contrary to the influential role of rape in the fear of crime literature, sexual assault does not seem to drive fear of crime among the women I interviewed. Although the evidence is limited, taken together, it raises doubts on the rape hypothesis. Moreover, the men in this sample were just as likely to talk about sexual assault (for their wives) and rape as were female respondents. Previous research on altruistic and vicarious fear reflects men’s greater spousal fear and women’s fear for children and those under their care (Snedker, 2006; Warr & Ellison, 2000). Women may be socialized to be more aware of rape and sexual assault but this does not necessarily result in fear of rape or fear of crime. Most women tended to assess the likelihood of being sexually assaulted based on perceptions of vulnerability. Interestingly, the data highlight that both perceived and constructed vulnerability helps to explain gender differences in fear of crime.

Effective Agency

The degree of fear of crime that men and women express is related to the effective agency that men and women express. This is associated with one’s ability to defend oneself and feel capable of handling a risky situation. This is related to physical and social characteristics that affect effective agency. In general, I found that most men (but not elderly or disabled men) felt confident to defend themselves due to either their ability to fight or their physical appearance as a deterrent, whereas only a few women felt confident in this regard. In fact, some women felt that they were suitable targets due to their size and lack of strength. It could also be that some women rely more on others to protect them, such as on spouses or police (Cobbina et al., 2008).

Cobbina et al. (2008) argue against an exaggerated understanding of masculinity as risk-seeking and femininity as risk-aversion. However, much research has found that women tend to be risk-averse and men are more likely to engage in risky behaviors or ventures. Such differences have been suggested in studies of adolescent deviance and crime (Heidensohn, 1995) and violence (Kanazawa & Still, 2000), suicides (Langhinrichsen-Rohling et al., 1998), off-track betting (Bruce & Johnson, 1994), and religiosity (Miller & Stark, 2002). Studies of investment decisions (Barber & Odean, 2001; Dwyer, Gilkeson, & List, 2001) suggest that differences in investment outcomes cannot be explained by differences in risk-aversion alone; in addition, information or knowledge disparities or differences in overconfidence by men and women also need to be considered. It is likely that the same mechanisms are operating in gender differences in fear of crime. ⁶ However, findings from these studies are consistent with the explanation provided here.

Limitations

Despite the strengths of the study and design, there are some limitations to the study that need to be acknowledged. Many of the limitations are inherent in small N qualitative research designs. However, a sample of more than 50 in-depth interviews is at or above standards in the field. Inconsistent findings in the fear of rape thesis may also stem from sampling-related limitations.

The study took place in New York City and may not be generalizable to other urban areas or regions of the United States. New Yorkers may be distinctly different in their assessments of risk and fear of crime. The unique quality of the New York City sample might have contributed to some of the findings. For example, people that choose to reside in New York City might be less fearful of crime compared with those that live in other areas of the nation; hence, there might be a selection bias that affects fear of crime levels (see, for example, the quotation from Markus on page 22). It could also be that people who choose to reside in large cities such as New York understand that a certain level of crime or risk is part of everyday urban life and some might even embrace its “dangerous” reputation. All of these factors might influence New Yorkers’ expression of fear of crime. It could also be that New Yorkers might be more likely to take control of potentially threatening situations and thus lead to reductions in fear of crime (see, for example, the discussion about Abigail’s ability to “verbalize her frustrations” on page 21). All of these reasons might be partial explanations as to why the study uncovered results that are quite contrary to previous established findings. ⁷ However, Madriz’s (1997) seminal work on women and fear of crime was also conducted largely in the New York metropolitan area and she highlights the prevalence of fear of rape. This suggests that New York is a standard and appropriate research site for qualitative work on fear of crime; it is productive to be able to compare findings from the same city/region. Importantly, given the same locale, the findings presented here call into question some of Madriz’s findings on the link between rape and fear of crime.

Second, the sample composition and size limited certain comparisons and in-depth analyses. For example, the sample was not equally split by key sociodemographic characteristics or neighborhoods. Moreover, the sample size makes comparisons between subgroups—such as race, ethnicity, and immigration status—merely suggestive. Given the sample size and response rate, the sample was not necessarily representative of the two neighborhoods, New Yorkers or urban residents in general. In addition, the sample composition had a large proportion of immigrants—which is expected of a New York City–based sample—but raises concerns about immigrant status and different patterns of gender socialization in home countries. Given that gender socialization differs significantly across cultures, some observed gender differences might reflect cultural differences in socialization processes and not gender socialization in general.

However, the discussion of fear of rape highlights cultural differences—as only the Asian women (not all were immigrants) explicitly expressed fear of rape. Part of the heightened fear of crime among this group may reflect cultural understanding about victimhood and gender relations. Moreover, the fact that there were fewer female immigrants (compared with male immigrant respondents) actually reinforces the findings presented in the article. Most of the fear of crime research on gender socialization process and fear are based on American cultural socialization processes. This means that having more natural-born American women in the sample would actually overestimate the gender differences. Accordingly, I should have witnessed more American females expressing fear of crime based on gendered socialization processes. If the sample balance was the other way with more immigrant women, this might be problematic. Other sociodemographic differences may matter as well. The fact that many more men were married partly explains why more men expressed fear of crime (specifically rape) for their wives. However, in other work (Snedker, 2006), I show that the gender differences in fear for others is not only related to marital status; in the same sample, more women expressed greater altruistic fear than men (despite not being married or having children), reflecting socialization process toward caretaking.

Third, the timing of the data collection might have altered some of the respondent’s responses to fear of crime. For example, it may be that the relatively low level of fear of crime among the respondents was because their fear of “normal” crime was eclipsed by fear of terrorism as reflected in polls and surveys after 9/11. The pre-9/11 sample consists of 7 respondents, and the post-9/11 sample includes 45 respondents. Examining the rates of fear of crime based on the date of interview (pre- or post-9/11) does not suggest a troubling relationship. (A total of 17 respondents reported personal fear, of which 2 were before and 15 were after. Two out of the 7 respondents interviewed before 9/11 expressed fear of crime [29%] compared with 15 out of 45 respondents [33%] interviewed in the months after.) Of course, this is a small sample. However, if the events were to alter the responses to fear of crime, one might expect the percentage to be much greater in the second group as opposed to largely comparable between the first and second group. In addition, not one of the accounts of fear of crime referred to the terrorist attacks specifically; as such, accounts were captured in the previous questions specific to the events of 9/11. Interestingly, there was more reference to recent news coverage about people being pushed onto the subway tracks than to the Twin Towers.

Despite these limitations—many of which apply to qualitative research in general—this study adds to the empirical and theoretical literature on fear of crime by using a rich qualitative study and exploring differential vulnerability from an integrated framework informed by studies of gender, perceived risk, and routine activities theory to better account for women’s higher fear of crime. Given the lack of qualitative studies on women and men’s fear of crime, this study provides a much needed corrective.