The problem with the #NotAllMen hashtag
The disappearance of Sarah Everard in south London last week has struck a chord in almost all my female friends. Since she went missing, a constant stream of texts and messages have lit up my screen, expressing the same common concern – that any one of us could have been Sarah.
Some friends live in Brixton, some in Clapham, some walk that very route that links the two. We all started to collectively remember the endless times we have walked back home in the dark – taking the safety of the streets for granted – and all the close-calls, where we have had to fake a phone call, look in the reflection of a shop window and cross the road to get away from the man you could see in your shadow. As young girls, we are taught to fear the streets; as women, we are taught to own them, but at what cost?
Sarah’s death has prompted discussions about triggering experiences of assault and harassment, experiences we had all – until recently – brushed under the carpet. Everything from groping on the tube, catcalling, and up-skirting, to indecent exposure and non-consensual sex – as women, we have lived and breathed assault and harassment. So, when hashtags like #NotAllMen started to circulate on Twitter as we browsed rape alarms online, it served as a neglectful dismissal and derailment of the female experience.
The original meaning of the hashtag #NotAllMen was to recognise that not all men are violent. The hashtag is commonly used as a rebuttal to generalised statements and prejudice. When viewing a post where a woman has shared her story of sexual harassment, there is likely to be a defensive #NotAllMen hashtag underneath. As Sarah Everard’s story provoked many women to come forward with their experiences of harassment and assault, it wasn’t long before the #NotAllMen brigade took to their keyboards to spread the hashtag.
Of course, not all men commit violence, but this hashtag gives the impression that women are blaming all men. Whilst global research does show that men commit the vast majority of violence, it is also true that not all men are violent, nor is violence and aggression in-built within them. But, in making the discussion about men, it is dismissing the debate about the future safety of women. By saying “not all men are like that”, it is clear it is an act of absolvement rather than awareness and essentially means, “I am not like that.” The issue here is that sexual harassment is not a game of good cop/bad cop, it’s not a matter of how it affects you and your existence as a man, it’s about listening to the 97% of women aged 18-24 who have experienced sexual harassment in public spaces.
I spoke to Phoebe O’Hara, the Director and co-founder of Empower Her Voice, a charity that champions and gives a platform to marginalised genders. O’Hara told me that the hashtag #NotAllMen is problematic as it rids men of any responsibility to help reduce the criminally high rates of sexual harassment and assault in the UK: “I cannot emphasise enough how dangerous this narrative is. With only 1.7 per cent of reported rapes being prosecuted in England and Wales, how can we expect to reduce gender-based violence without 50 per cent of the population playing an active and vocal role?”
She added: “If society has learnt anything from the Black Lives Matter protests and the #MeToo movement, it should be that silence is compliance. The current silence and active dismissal via the #NotAllMen hashtag – on the issue of sexual assault and harassment – is deafening.”
Another problem with the hashtag #NotAllMen is that it undermines women’s concerns for their safety. When women share their stories of gender-based violence on social media, they are doing it to foster conversation and collaboration; they are not there for male-bashing. If this emotional vulnerability is met with #NotAllMen, it deters other women from speaking of their experiences for fear of victim-blaming.
A friend who lives in Streatham Hill tells me about how her streets and lampposts are still full of posters of Sarah, and that everyone seems incredibly spooked by the past week’s events. As she tells me this, we get onto the topic of #NotAllMen: “It’s true, not all men pose a direct threat to women’s safety, but a disturbing number still do, and this is creating an environment where women walk down their own streets in fear.” She added: “If you are shocked by what happened to Sarah Everard, rather than taking these online conversations as a personal attack, try to understand the experiences of women facing a physical one.”
After hearing the spine-chilling news that human remains – since identified as Sarah’s – had been found in Kent, I felt sickened to my core. I rang a male friend to discuss the harrowing story and asked him his thoughts on #NotAllMen. After a night of tossing and turning, I woke up to a text from him reading: “I’m shocked it took me so long to realise how much Sarah’s story hits home for women. I am here if you need me or ever feel unsafe walking around London.”
His words of safety put me immediately at ease and reminded me that the majority of men are willing to educate themselves on gender-based violence but there are still those who won’t. There are sill men who excuse themselves from the debate rather than engage, and there are still men who say they are not complicit in violence but then do nothing to actively fight against it. Not all men, but most, are failing to see the bigger need for collective responsibility when it comes to harassment and assault. It doesn’t take a genius to see that distancing yourself from the problem becomes part of the problem.
The disappearance and death of Sarah Everard has left us all feeling shell-shocked. The tragic circumstances have also forced us to realise the importance of sharing experiences and the need for greater education on harassment and assault. But the path to systemic change is through collective action, not through trying to wash your hands of responsibility through belittling hashtags. Tweeting #NotAllMen is not going to make us feel any safer; what will make us feel safe is if men listen to us, support us, and speak out.
It may not be all men, but frankly, it’s still far too many.