Opinion
Calling men toxic may feel good, but it won’t save a single boy from the ‘manosphere’
Ahona Guha
PsychologistAs a forensic psychologist, I work with perpetrators of violent and abusive behaviours daily – including behaviours such as intimate partner violence and sex offending. The common threads I’ve come to recognise over the years have been a refusal of governments to listen to the wisdom of experts – especially researchers and clinicians who work in perpetrator behaviour change – and instead formulate reactive policies when social demand calls for it.
So, when the Victorian government last month announced updates to its Respectful Relationships school program in a bid to combat “toxic masculinity”, misogyny and far-right influencers such as Andrew Tate, I was not surprised. But I was, along with plenty of other experts, puzzled and concerned.
Initially rolled out across state schools in 2016 following the Royal Commission into Family Violence, the updated program comes as the popularity of so-called “alpha male” influencers like Tate among teen boys has become a prevalent issue in classrooms.
While the news was met with praise by certain sectors and groups, my apprehension comes not because the initiative itself is not commendable and necessary, but because the language that will be used is outdated and unhelpful, and measures like these educational modules remain untested.
Experts and clinicians working in behaviour and attitudinal change know that the use of judgmental language, like “toxic masculinity”, can alienate those most in need of intervention, and entrench their views further.
To see genuine attitudinal change, an understanding of the other person’s views and needs is required, as is determining the array of factors that might have led to the formation of those views, and then working with them to review the utility of these attitudes and formulate more helpful attitudes.
When we use interventions that don’t work, we run the risk of making the problem worse than it was before.
Intervention programs for sex offenders and violent offenders, for instance, are well formulated, based on forensic principles, and delivered by trained clinicians. The risk assessment tools used are validated, and the use of best practice and updated evidence is encouraged.
In other parts of the sector, it is a very different story. Treatment for intimate partner violence, for example, is largely based on the Duluth model, which proposes that this behaviour is driven by gender norms and power and control, and there is no standardised training for clinicians delivering this treatment.
Treatment programs are often positioned within victim-survivor organisations which makes objectivity difficult, and allows vicarious trauma to spread unchecked. Despite significant research showing that other factors are also highly influential (trauma histories, personality disorders, general antisocial attitudes, emotional dysregulation, alcohol and drug use, stress, etc.), the Duluth hypothesis is accepted as truth.
Early in my career, I worked in frontline domestic violence services. There, discussing any of these factors was labelled as “excusing” the perpetrator, and many within the sector spoke angrily of psychologists “colluding” with perpetrators. Of course, we don’t do that. But we do make attempts to understand behaviour, and to meet someone where they are at.
A recent white paper on primary prevention, by Professor Mike Salter and journalist Jess Hill, highlighted the need to move away from the primary prevention model and to focus on intervention approaches.
This was met with furore within the sector, angry messages flying back and forth and accusations of lack of support or betrayal of core principles. The responses themselves highlighted some of the issues: approaches based on emotionality and ideology, a lack of engagement with emerging research, an inaccurate use of the evidence base, and refusing to incorporate the knowledge of those most qualified to work with perpetrators.
In May, the federal government commissioned a rapid review into prevention approaches following a spate of domestic and gender-based violence deaths across Australia, and the white paper’s publication. But the review’s panel did not include any experts in behaviour change or forensic psychology and ultimately, some of the interventions suggested – such as regulating age of access to online pornography – have no evidentiary basis. These interventions may make us feel effective, but it’s unlikely that they will reduce the incidence of family violence.
That’s why the response from many within the sector – myself included – to the Victorian government’s announcement on Respectful Relationships wasn’t entirely positive.
It sounds like a positive step in the right direction, and makes parents feel reassured to know that their children will receive lessons on how to recognise hate speech, coercive control, and online toxic masculinity. But currently, there is no evidence to show that these classes will actually have the desired long-term outcome.
We know that negative labelling is largely ineffectual in adults. Doing the same to children, and having their peers and teachers apply the labels the minute they step foot inside a classroom, is difficult to square. Young men need other approaches, and the possible future victims of these young men’s anger deserve other approaches.
Dr Ahona Guha is a clinical and forensic psychologist, trauma expert and author based in Melbourne. All views expressed are her own.
If you or anyone you know needs help, call Lifeline on 13 11 14, Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636, or the National Sexual Assault, Domestic Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732).
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