Minimise, Doubt, Excuse,Shift Blame

I’m sure somebody else will have written about this in a much more clever way, but when has that ever stopped me before? There has been an uptick in stories about harassment, sexual, racist, or just plain hassling the weirdo. These are all three examples of relatively mundane harassment, of the kind that is experienced on a daily basis by thousands of people, but which is relatively invisible to anybody not directly involved as either victim or bully, not being obviously outrageous stories of injustice. Reading these stories and the comments that they attracted, I began to notice something.

It’s of course no secret that any such story of harassment will attract skeptical commenters, who for some reason or another want to deny or excuse the harassment. Few of those, certainly not in the more enlightened environment of e.g. Metafilter, will excuse or agree with the racism or sexism directly. Instead, there are four main techniques which skeptics use to discredit bullying victims: Minimise, Doubt, Excuse and Shift Blame.

Minimise: don’t deny the incident, but deny its importance and the need to talk about it. (Frex) What this does should be obvious: if an incident isn’t worth talking about, it can’t be used as evidence of sexism, racism, bullying etc.

Doubt: just straight up start questioning whether the incident really happened or whether there is another side to the story (frex). This can be done under the guise of keeping an open mind, not wanting to judge on hearsay and “innocent until proven guilty” and all that good stuff, but what it really does is denying the victim their experiences.

Excuse: the other side of the doubt coin, explaining that there are reasons why what the victim thought was harassment wasn’t actually, or wasn’t intended as such, or couldn’t be helped. There are several examples of it in the Livejournal thread about the woman who was hassled at Readercon, with some commenters speculating that the harasser might have Aspergers or ADD or something. What this does is to again doubt a victim’s experiences as well as remove the responsibility for the bullying from the bully.

Finally, shift blame: it wasn’t the bully’s fault that this happened, it must have been something the victim did or did not do which made them do it. This is on full display in the thread about Stephen Mann, where he’s described as provocative and not telling the whole truth (doubt again). You also see this a lot with any story involving cops killing or harassing innocent people, where it seems to be as much fear as hatred driving people to argue that there must be something the victim did to deserve their treatment.

There’s one other technique that helps with each of the four main techniques to delegitimise experiences of harassment: nitpicking, doubting every detail of the story the victim tells. This works well because few people are able to be one hundred percent right or precise when writing down their experiences…

These are all techniques that should be known to anybody who has spent some time on internet threads about bullying, or police brutality, or any other story where you have people wanting to deny the reality of it, but I thought it would be good to write it down for a change, to make it explicit.

“Now is not the time to play the blame game”

As some government spokesfucker said on PM this afternoon.

So when is it time to blame G4S for their fuckup and inability to deliver the security personnel they were paid for? Not to mention those who thought it a good idea in the first place to contract a private security firm for such a sensitive assignment? Because really, it’s typical that once again the public sector has to make good the failures of oh so efficient free market:

The G4S chief executive, Nick Buckles, has told MPs that he regrets ever signing the Olympic security contract that has turned into “a humiliating shambles” that has left his company’s reputation in tatters.

But Buckles made clear that he is not going to fall on his sword and resign his £830,000-a-year job before the Games are over and astonished MPs by insisting that G4S is not going to waive its £57m “management fee” despite accepting 100% responsibilty for the security debacle.

The G4S chief executive clearly dismayed MPs on the Commons home affairs committee by saying he still couldn’t guarantee that all the 7,000 security guards the company is contracted to supply will turn up on the opening day of the Games. He disclosed that a further 500 troops could be called up if the 3,500 put on standby last week don’t prove enough.

The G4S boss confirmed that his company will pay all the extra costs faced by the military and the police for replacing private security guards when they fail to be supplied, including accommodation. He also made clear that the company will now also consider paying £500 bonuses to armed forces personnel whose leave has been cancelled to cover for the Games.

Really, at this point what needed to happen was to a) yank G4S off this contract and b) replace their employees with proper police and such while c) billing them for the costs and not paying them for anything they’ve done so far. Preferably the few security guards they actually did manage to hire/train should be transferred to the olympic organisation itself. I really don’t understand why, since their head honcho can’t even say how many people they will have available, anybody is still counting on them to deliver anything.

It really is privatisation in a nutshell: take the money, fuck up, fuck off and let the public sector clean up your messes.

Nicola Griffith talks about Slow River

So about a week ago, on my booklog, I wrote the following about Nicola Griffith’s Slow River:

What I only noticed about a quarter of the way in is that these three interwoven stories are actually written in three different viewpoints. There’s the first person point of view for the present, tight second person focus for the years with Spanner, while the chapters focusing on her family are in a much looser second person focus. The difference is that in the first form of second person focus we’re still inside Lore’s head most of the time, with the text refering her as “she”, while the second form, we see her from the outside, as “Lore”. It is of course symbolic for her growing up, maturing, going from what others see her as, to what she sees herself as. A coming of age story that is not nearly as obvious as most such are in science fiction.

I also wrote that it had been first published in 1991 rather 1995, which prompted Nicola herself to correct me in order to be polite and in passing she also explained about how Slow River is arranged (all quoted by permission, natch):

The three narrative layers/POVs (I think of them as points-of-view lacquered on top of each other so that the imagery and emotion bleed through) are formally arranged in an ABA C ABA C ABA pattern:
– C = Lore age 5 to 18 in third person, past tense
– B = Lore age 18 to 21 in third person, past tense
– A = Lore age 21 and up in first person, present tense

I’ve talked in various places (I really should pull it all together at some point, but haven’t yet) about why I chose the POV and tenses. Short version: present tense is an indicator of a dream-like state, which is what childhood is; third person, like past tense, is the traditional POV and tense; first person is my way of signifying that this is the narrative present, this is the Now of the book, telling the reader “You are here.” At the same time, I really wanted the emotions to form an easy narrative through-line so the reader never feels confused.

It worked for me and I’m not the only one who noticed this structure; so did Russ Allberry for example. What struck me about it is that this works even if you don’t notice it consciously, which is the hallmark of a good writer.

If you want to read more about how Slow River was written, the essay layered cities about the city at the heart of the story, as well as writing Slow River, an interview, are highly recommended. Nicola Griffith’s latest novel is the historical novel Hild, which won’t come out until next year unfortunately.

QotD: Harry Redknapp

Proof that football writers can have a poetic turn is delivered by Barney Ronay, writing for The Grauniad‘s sportsblog about the contrast between Spurs new and old managers, ‘Arry Redknapp and Andre Villas-Boas:

It is genuinely ennobling, this belief in the basic sanctity of the managerial mission. “We must build on Harry’s great work,” Villas-Boas said this week, bestowing an unexpected gravity on the legacy of a manager who has traditionally been a kind of footballing Cat in the Hat, a tousled and infectious improviser who could probably cook you the most brilliant meal you’ve ever tasted simply by hurling everything in the fridge into a massive bowl and then flambéing it over a raging fire built from every stick of furniture you own, before abruptly disappearing just as you come round, dazed and hungover, face down in the ashes of what was once your kitchen.

One for Pseuds’ Corner, eh lads?

Barrayar — Lois Mc Master Bujold

Cover of Barrayar


Barrayar
Lois McMaster Bujold
386 pages
published in 1991

Barrayar was actually the first ever Bujold story I ever read and I hated it. That’s because it was the last part of its serialisation in Analog that I read and I had no idea of what was going. Coming back to it now, after having read all the Miles Vorkosigan books at least once, I enjoyed it much more. Like any prequel Barrayar depends for some of its impact on the reader’s knowledge of the main series. If you don’t know who Miles Vorkosigan is and why he is the incredibly determined little mutant runt that he is when we first met him in the Warrior’s Apprentice, the details of how he got to be that way won’t matter all that much.

Chronologically, Barrayar takes place almost immediately after Shards of Honor and is the second and so far last novel to star Cordelia Vorkosigan/Ransom. Cordelia and Aral are settling in to newly married live on Barrayar, with Cordelia pregnant with Miles. Then the old emperor dies and Aral becomes regent to his young grandson and he and Cordelia are soon plunged into the dangerous, still very medieval politics of the Barrayaran court and nobility. How dangerous Cordelia only realises when they’re the victims of an assasination attempt, with poison gas grenades thrown into their house.

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