Readercon, harassment and all that

A while ago I put up a post about techniques with which sexual harassement can be excused. That was just after the news about Genevieve Valentine being sexually harassed at Readercon had broken; it was in fact partial inspiration for my post. In the weeks since and especially since the weekend this incident has blown up into a classic firestorm, as once she had reported this harassement, the concom turned out not to be following its own zero tolerance rules for dealing with harassement. Her harasser, one René Walling (Oblegal: allegedly) was not banned forever from the con, but for just two years, with speculation online being this was because he was somewhat of a big cheese in that particular part of fandom.

Needless to say, that set the cat amongst the pigeons, as you can see from the link summation at BC Holmes’ blog, who also linked to my post which was the first I noticed about this, as suddenly my hitcounter started revving up. Reading through the assorted links, via syrens, I found the following post, meet the predators, which isn’t about the Readercon situation directly, but which goes to the heart of it nonetheless. It does so because it looks at the research that’s done about rapists and other sexual predators and what they are like and what needs to be done to stop them:

First, the stranger-force rape is a small proportion of rapes, and is all but absent from the samples of self-reporters. Other research** shows that lack of prior acquaintance and use of the weapon are the only significant factors that increase the likelihood that a victim will report the offense. Attacking strangers with force or weapons is the only pattern of victimization at all likely to lead to incarceration of the rapist, let’s face it — so those who commit rape in the way that follows the script may be already in jail, not in college or the Navy filling out surveys. The rapists who are out there are mostly using intoxication, and mostly attacking victims they know.

Second, the sometimes-floated notion that acquaintance rape is simply a mistake about consent, is wrong. (See Amanda Hess’s excellent takedown here.) The vast majority of the offenses are being committed by a relatively small group of men, somewhere between 4% and 8% of the population, who do it again … and again … and again. That just doesn’t square with the notion of innocent mistake. Further, since the repeaters are also responsible for a hugely disproportionate share of the intimate partner violence, child beating and child sexual abuse, the notion that these predators are somehow confused good guys does not square with the data. Most of the raping is done by guys who like to rape, and to abuse, assault and violate. If we could get the one-in-twelve or one-in-25 repeat rapists out of the population (that is a lot of men — perhaps six or twelve million men in the U.S. alone) or find a way to stop them from hurting others, most sexual assault, and a lot of intimate partner violence and child abuse, would go away. Really.

Recommendation

I’m directing this to men who inhabit het-identified social spaces, and I’m not really limiting it more than that. Women are already doing what they can to prevent rape; brokering a peace with the fear is part of their lives that we can never fully understand. We’re the ones who are not doing our jobs.

Here’s what we need to do. We need to spot the rapists, and we need to shut down the social structures that give them a license to operate. They are in the population, among us. They have an average of six victims, women that they know, and therefore likely some women you know. They use force sometimes, but mostly they use intoxicants. They don’t accidentally end up in a room with a woman too drunk or high to consent or resist; they plan on getting there and that’s where they end up.

The harassement Genevieve Valentine suffered fortunately didn’t escalate to outright rape, which of course doesn’t make it any less awful, but we as a fan community must police this sort of behaviour better, not excuse it, not minimise it, not put the sole burden on women to make sure they’re not being hassled, or there will be rapes — if there haven’t been already. As the research in Thomas’ post shows, the good news is that the number of male rapists is limited; the bad news is that it’s the behaviour of all other men, decent, non-raping men, that either encourages or inhibits them. It’s not fair that we should be responsible for their actions, but it’s even less far that more women get harassed or worse by them because we couldn’t be bothered.

The analogy I was thinking about reading that post was about drink driving. Once upon a time, not too long ago, drink driving was something nobody really minded and getting behind the wheel with half a dozen brewskis was something to brag about. It was always only a minority of drivers who really got drunk behind the wheel, but many more who didn’t hold responsible for that or joked about it or perhaps went a little bit too far themselves occasionally as well. But once the true costs of this negligence became known and public opinion was shifted, drink driving and the deaths it caused became much rarer.

The same needs to happen to rape and sexual harassement. Most of us would never think of doing that to anybody, but as long as we make excuses for our friends or co-workers or family members who do, we keep alive the culture that makes rape possible.

Drink Moar beer

Bayerischer Bahnhof Berliner Style Weisse

Right, more beer drinking. Proof positive that reading beer blogs is dangerous to your sobriety, I saw this Bayerischer Bahnhof Berliner Style Weisse in de Bierkoning and because I’d read this post at Shut Up about Barclay Perkins (for serious beer nerdery) I thought I’d give it a try. I know what weiss beer tastes like, but hadn’t heard of a Berliner style weiss beer yet. If this particular bottle is a good example of the style, it turns out to be much more sour than a normal weiss beer, tasting rather like a Kriek or Rodenbach, sour almost to the point of invoking your gag reflex, and with a very low alcohol percentage of 3 percent ABV. As you can see the colour is light golden, slightly darker than a lager, with a big head of foam, but that might’ve been caused by the transport from the shop to my home. On the whole I liked it, but it’s good it’s only a small (33 cl) bottle; more than that would be too much. It’s not the sort of beer you quaff on a hot sunny day.

Let’s drink some beer

It’s sunday, it’s sunny and I got some nice beers here which my parents were kind enough to bring along from Middelburg. First up is the Peelander Framboos beer:

The Peelander Framboos

Well, it certainly looks like raspberry beer and when opening the bottle, smells like it too. Tasting it, you get a strong raspberry flavour as well, with a slightly sour aftertaste and almost no hoppy bitterness. It’s slightly gassy and has some of the cloyingness that I associate with a good raspberry cordial. If you’d buy this expecting a beer similar to a kriek lambic, you’d be dissappointed. Alcohol wise it’s only 4% ABV, so a good drink for a hot summer’s day.

Prestige Premium Pils:

Prestige Premium Pils

Another Peelander product, this is a proper pilsner (5% ABV), nothing more, nothing less. It looks like a glass of Heineken, it smells like Heineken when you open it and it tastes like it too, with that slightly metallic aftertaste proper Heineken has. A perfectly alright pilsner, just a bit dull.

“Boobs boobs everywhere, and not a one to honk”

Some douchenozzle thought it was up to him to decide who was a geek or not; Nick Mamatas sets him straight:

The same is true in the sexual realm: geek boys weren’t being rejected in high school because they liked Star Wars, or because it’s impossible to find a girl who also liked Star Wars. They were being rejected because of their appearance, weight, smell, attitude, visible handicaps, foreign accents, failure to own a car, general “creepy” vibe, failure to be interested in women as human beings, difficulty in carrying on a conversation, an annoying giggle, slouchy and asocial demeanor, etc. And it’s not like geek boys stared across the classroom at the geek girls, with their braces and weird jutting chins and nose-picking habits and horse books, and declared undying love over mid-afternoon Legos either. Indeed, one reason why sexist attitudes toward attractive women are so prevalent in geekdom is because of the mix of shame and desire attractive women represent to men who feel excluded from the supply of sexual encounters out there in the world. It’s abjection—one wants what one cannot have because one is revolting, so one projects that same revulsion on the object of their desire. Some geek men want these booth babes so much that they can’t stand them.

Of course, most geek men also grow up eventually, find lovers, comb their hair, take up exercise and get over junior high. They don’t need “geek” as some sort of badge of honor. The ones that do, well, they’re the ones I suspect are most likely to accept sexist ideas about attractive women, and fearlessly promote them online, where they’re safe from reprisals by the jocks of the adult world. (HR departments and the like.) That is, they become bullies. Why does a bully pick on a dork? Because it’s safe—there’s no downside to doing it. Why does a dork pick on a woman? Because it’s safe—there’s no downside to doing it. I mean, it’s not like the “booth babe” was otherwise going to go back to the geek’s hotel room (which he is sharing with four other smelly weirdos) with him, right? So, rage rage, on and on, and all to protect geek culture from the endless horrors of non-dorks and big tits?

It can be annoying to see the “cool kids” jump on a subculture bandwagon, but I’ve never understood the visceral hatred some socalled geeks have to people new to fandom, to everybody who isn’t just like them. Perhaps because I grew up in an environment that was both far less poisonous than the American school system, where you don’t have all that jocks v. nerds nonsense, I don’t have the resentment some of these idiots have carried with them from high school, certainly not against women, “hot” or otherwise. It’s dumb, it’s sexist, it doesn’t make you a better geek.

In the ensuing comment thread at Nick’s, quite a few people make good points which I’ll copy here shamelessly:

Hal Duncan:So, yeah, my message for the once-bullied male geek: welcome to the shitty end of the stick we call heteronormativity; please to not reinforce it with misogynist douchebaggery.

Kermit:
Well, again, if you have no foundation (because somewhere along the line in your family your original culture was renounced), then you’re an even bigger sucker for the capitalist-imperialist pseudo-culture, and whatever part of it you embrace, you’re going to embrace HARD. This is what produces the fanatics, whether they’re sports fans (and I’d challenge you to find a better metaphor for imperialism than pro-sports) or fantasy/sci-fi geeks. And damn if so much of our entertainment doesn’t fully embrace and propagate those “American” values. I mean, shit, a lot of the comic books were made as a sort of USAmerican propaganda. And Wrestling, with its depictions of “American Hero” vs. the evil Russians and Arabs? And there was also a strict gender divide in Wrestling (GLOW, anyone?) but that’s aside from the point I’m making.

Seth Ellis: It’s the relentless relationship of subcultural identity to product, and hardly anything but product, that continues to get me down. It’s like the message is, dear fans: please be suckers forever.

La fields: In conclusion: I didn’t go on any dates in high school either, but being a geek was the one thing that gave me a social life, a sense of camaraderie, and the perspective to realize that there were more people like me out in the world, and I could find them if I managed to survive high school (so you know, a real incentive not to kill myself or others!). It made the bullying I got just for walking around as myself in that viper’s nest bearable.

Sonya: I understand how moderately attractive or homely gals would find these Booth Babes perpetually irritating. Women can be scary. Scary mean, scary judgmental, scary impulsively ostracizing, etc. The more confident a woman is about her sexy body (or at least the more believable her portrayal of confidence) the more intimidating she becomes. Women perceived as visual appealing tend to land at the top of the heap due to the culturally normative value placed on sexual desirability and the more perceived power she will hold within the hierarchal social structure.

Troubler: So it is entirely consistent to criticize companies’ use of booth babes, and at the same time argue that booth babes are people and should be treated with respect. In fact it is the companies who hire them who are not treating them with respect because the job itself is objectifying and dehumanizing.

And always remember: it’s not up to any man to decide which women are the real geeks. Think otherwise and you’re a sexist numbnut.

Biking in Portland

how one mum and her six kids get around in Portland

The first thing that came in my mind when reading this story about the ingenious biking solution one Portland mother uses to transport her children was, christ, who has six children anyway? If you’re worried about sustainability, this is not the way to go about it. But never mind that. What I really found strange is the following:

Before we rolled out, I met the young Finches: Nathan, 11; Mary, 9; Lucy, 7; Ben, 5; Olivia, 4; and Maya, 2.

Emily’s usual set-up is three kids up front, one on the child seat, one pedaling an attached bike (usually Mary), and Nathan riding by himself. As we set off toward OMSI, I got to observe the Finch-mobile in action. It was massive and it was alive with sounds and movement. Heads and arms bobbled while music blared from the on-board sound system.

By my count that’s at least three kids who could ride their own bikes rather than hitch a ride with mumy: Nathan, Mary and Lucy, with Ben on the cusp. So why go through all this rigomarole? Is it just American paranoia about child safety and kids biking through traffic, or is there something more going on?

Where’s dad in this story anyway? Oh, wait: “The Finch family owns a car. It’s a sedan and only Mitch drives it. He takes it work everyday.” Hmmm…