Hi, Fellas. Today, We’re Going To Talk About Rape
If you don't think rape culture is a thing, meet Gisèle Pelicot
No woman needs to read this post. Y’all know the situation. Most of you have chosen the bear in the woods, after all. And, sadly, for good reason.
And if you do read this post, beware. This essay may contain triggers that will upset you, since almost all women have, at a minimum, been exposed to the threat that Dominique Pelicot, a French rape culture warrior, posed to his own wife.
No, this short commentary is for men. I want to believe that most of the types of men who regularly read my posts will be appalled by the story behind this post. But I don’t know, do I? One in five women you know have experienced rape or attempted rape, after all. One in three of those women were raped between the ages of 11 and 17. Imagine growing up with the weight of assaults from the people you trusted to keep you safe.
Can you imagine bouncing back from that into a life of vigor and confidence? And, yet, so many women do. Most of them do this with enviable grace, then spread their empathy around to make the world a saner place. Then, they give birth to children. Our inability to be amazed by women on a daily basis might just be the first place to start any personal quest toward understanding rape culture.
I mean, come on, fellas. Can any of you imagine going through the birthing process? Be honest. To put it crudely, I want to cry out to my long lost momma when I pinch a hard loaf much wider than a pencil.
We men aren’t excluded from sexual assault. 81% of women and 43% of men have experienced some form of sexual intimidation or assault.
It might also surprise you to learn that most sexual assault victims, 52.4%, are assaulted by someone they know. Assaults from strangers? 15.2%.1 That’s still high, but it’s often the people most trusted in our lives who cause the most damage.
This is what happened to Gisèle Pelicot, who appeared in a French court today to take the stand against her husband, Dominique.
Gisèle introduced to the world, or maybe I should say, “reintroduced,” if you’re a woman, the concept that rapists are lurking around every corner. A deeply malevolent rape culture persists in the world — not just in America and Europe, but everywhere. It includes everything from young men tuning into podcasts of professional misogynist and accused human trafficker Andrew Tate, to pointing to women in short skirts saying they deserve it, to accusing women of making stories up.
Not to pick on India, but in many places throughout that nation, women are terrified to walk alone even during the middle of the day.2 Other countries face their own similar turmoil. Rape culture has different regional characteristics, but they all flow from a common disrespect most men seem to have toward women.
Rape culture is not a Western thing, or an American thing, or an Asian or South American or African thing. It’s a male thing. And when we, as men, turn a blind eye to it, we are disrespecting both the women who give birth to our children and the childless cat ladies who don’t.
Make no mistake. When we do things like vote for Donald Trump and JD Vance, we are perpetuating rape culture and the rape culture warriors who act as its generals.
We are cheering on men who brag about sexual assault. We are giving the finger to Gisèle Pelicot and taking sides with her husband Dominique. We are letting him know that what he did to his wife is no big deal.
Dominique took things a step further than most rape culture warriors. He recruited more than 50 other men to rape his wife. The primary reason he was caught was because he recorded the violent acts. Police found more than 2,000 videos of the crimes in his possession. He didn’t bother to deny the charges police eventually filed against him.
Even more disturbing, Pelicot had no trouble recruiting these men, most of them from the small region of France, Vaucluse, where he lived. They were just typical guys. IT professionals, bankers, whatever. Guys you pass on the sidewalk or live next door to. The kind of guys a woman might stumble into while hiking alone in the woods and saying, “Fuck no,” and splashing them with a dose of bear spray.
One of them was a prison warden. Another was a nurse. There were farm workers and bus drivers. And they all eagerly participated in the rape of a defenseless, usually unconscious woman. If you think that sounds crazy, that’s good.
But if your first thought is, “How did she let herself get raped by 50 different men?” then this is where I say: “Restrain yourself, big boy.” Then ask yourself why your first thought is to join the Andrew Tate world of blaming women for sexual assault.
To repeat: The vast majority of assaults occurred when she was drugged unconscious. This obviously limited her defense options. The Andrew Tate rape warrior then says, “Well, it’s not that big a deal if she was unconscious.” If you don’t think this is a common refrain, check in with one of Tate’s millions of followers.
Gisèle Pelicot boldly stepped out of the world of hidden truth, a world where it is extremely difficult to accuse a man of sexual assault. Many sexual assaults are still not reported for reasons even most men can imagine.3 But Gisèle Pelicot not only overcame the typical obstacles of challenging rape culture, she announced to the world her determination to bring the 50 men into the public arena.
The men, ranging in age from their mid-20s to their 70s, have all faced their own public trials in France, as Gisèle has marched forward in her quest for justice.
She did this by declining France’s guarantee of victim privacy during rape trials. She wanted her name, and the names of her assailants, to be heard around the world.
She didn’t do this casually. As she said in her trial today: "I'm a woman who's totally destroyed."
"It's not courage,” she said. “It's determination to change things. This is not just my battle, but that of all rape victims."4
For those of us who are allies to women and care about our mothers, daughters, wives, and aunts, it is our battle, too. We need to actively condemn rape culture whenever we encounter it.
We need to stop defending the men accused of mass rape and assault. Men like Diddy, R. Kelly, Jeffrey Epstein, Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, and others whose crimes men are often quick to avert their gaze from.
We need to focus on changing the general tone of disrespect toward women that filters through our media, social and otherwise, and through our daily lives.
Where to start? Look around. The opportunity to promote change is everywhere.
But there’s one obvious place you can start on November 5. That one is so easy, you can almost do it in your sleep.
Yes, I know that math doesn’t add up. I suspect that problem stems from the fact that so many sexual assaults are unreported. These statistics are all derived from the National Sexual Violence Resource Center.
Doctor’s Rape, Murder in India Sparks Protests, Human Rights Watch
According to the U.K.’s Crown Prosecution Service, only 0.6% of sexual assault reports are false allegations. You’ll find similar statistics in most countries. These false sexual assault allegations are typically the result of complicated relationships at best, and abusive ones at worst. A woman has zero incentive to falsely charge a man with rape.
'Unbelievably violent': Gisele Pelicot, French victim of mass rape, takes the stand; CTV News, Canada
I worked on projects with Diddy and Cosby. They were both colossal a-holes. In his interview, Diddy said - "I'm friends with all the mothers of my children." Apparently, not so......
Thank you for writing this. I know there's lots of good men out there. Unfortunately we tend to hear the most from and about the oneswho definitely are not.