Advertisement

Why do we believe some women and not others?

Photo credit: Getty/Shutterstock
Photo credit: Getty/Shutterstock

From Harper's BAZAAR

What is the difference between truth and reality? As women, we are told that walking down a dark alley opens us up to attack. Worst still is wearing something revealing or being intoxicated to the point that you are unaware of your senses. This is what many believe and yet it’s far from the truth. What is true is that such attacks tend to happen not at night by a shadowy perpetrator but by someone we know - one third of all rape is committed by an intimate partner. Yet, for the most part, society remains firmly fixed to this idea, despite evidence to the contrary. It was in this murky world, that Michaela Coel's magnificent, I May Destroy You, played, ostensibly a drama about the nature of consent, but really an examination of our own deeply held beliefs about what it is to live in a world that is unknowable.

We hold fast to explainable ideas, ones that neatly wrap up unspeakable actions. Here, bad things tend to happen to bad people, be it an assault or some other shocking incident that renders a rip in what we understand our environment and society to be. Reeling, we search for an answer, something to soothe us and bring some sort of order, to hold off the threat that everything may just upend. This deep desire is only made more prevalent the more heinous the action. As a result, we look to a comforting narrative that can explain away our own sense of unease. Herein lies the idea of ‘the perfect victim’, someone who is immediately and unquestionably credible, whose story we don’t doubt. What makes us question the abuse allegations of some women above others? What internal biases shape whether or not we believe someone when they tell us they’ve been abused? Think back to Netflix’s harrowing Epstein documentary and be honest with yourself – of the numerous survivors interviewed for the series, whose story did you question? Did you ask why some of these women travelled on Epstein’s jet or to his sordid island? Did you wonder why some didn’t come forward sooner? Even more recently, we could refer to the Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp case, a messy, fraught situation that has made it easier for some to dismiss Heard’s abuse claims entirely.

"Move beyond the debate about whether you have biases or not," says activist Jenna Arnold, who pioneered the history-making 2017 Women's March in Washington. "I will take the gigantic risk of making a huge generalisation about all of humanity: we all have racial, gender, class, disability, sexuality... and even blonde haired girls with glasses biases. The conversation should no longer be centred around do or don’t; instead, start hunting for your biases, organise them, plan for the next time they show up so you can catch them before they do harm."

Let’s look at the Just-World hypothesis, which stems from the belief that the world is fair and people get what they deserve. It was first argued against by the Pyrrhonist philosopher Sextus Empiricus, in writing circa 180 CE and later explored in-depth by social psychologist Melvin J Lerner. He said that this belief, that the world is just so we can therefore rationalise away tragic events or acts, is important to our wellbeing. The only way we can stand to regard potential survivors is through a very narrow set of rules that somehow distance ourselves from what could be messy. If we can calmly and forensically pick out the aspects of a case, methodically weighing up the pros and cons, then we don’t have to accept that some people suffer without apparent cause.

We push the things we are told to be correct - that victims can only look or sound a certain way, that they must be vulnerable or meek (tears are good), with any hints of stoicism being, if not shunned then seen with suspicion, especially if you are a woman. “A Just World is one in which people ‘get what they deserve,’” wrote Lerner in his book, The Belief in a Just World: A Fundamental Delusion. “The judgement of ‘deserving’ is based on the outcome that someone is entitled to receive.” Lerner goes onto say there are two factors that influence whether we believe someone is deserving of any negative turn of events – one’s behaviour and one’s attributes. “If one fails to prepare, take normal precautions, does not produce sufficient quantity or quality, then one is entitled to a certain amount of failure, suffering, deprivations – negative consequences,” he says, adding that there are also personal qualities that give someone a superior social standing, including beauty, kindness, friendliness, generosity and conscientiousness. Those obviously without these traits are, under the Just World theory, predisposed to a negative fate.

We apply merit or tick off embedded requirements before we can share a sense of empathy. In this way, we are able to hold high the idea of perfection whilst ignoring away complexity or nuance, enabling us to apply somewhat faulty logic to terrible happenings in a clearly illogical world. This need for order seeps into every facet of our society, from the way we conduct ourselves relationally to our ideas of parenting (few could argue the pressure and expectation placed on mothers from the outset). The prevalence of such myths plays a significant role in women coming forward and reporting domestic abuse cases. “Something we hear is that [women feel that they] won't be taken seriously; there are huge concerns about counter claims and that if they come forward, their children may be taken away from them. Accountability does not lie with the perpetrator,” said Women’s Aid senior campaigns and policy officer Sophie Francis-Cansfield.

Photo credit: Stephanie Keith - Getty Images
Photo credit: Stephanie Keith - Getty Images

In a court of law, reasonable doubt must be considered; all claims are put to the test. However, the legal system is said to be risk averse and rightly doesn’t look kindly on the possibility of harm coming to children. In this way, some women worry that even being in a violent environment will seen to be their fault. How could a good mother put their children in harm's way by remaining in an abusive relationship? Understandably, many abuse survivors fear the possibility of blame being appropriated more squarely at them if there are children involved. Wider ideas of race and ethnicity also come into play; people of colour or those not born in the UK being penalised for a perceived sense of otherness. Women are justifiably worried due to issues around immigration status and fears that it will take precedence over everything else. "State issues are held as more important and this is used as a tool [by perpetrators to control or silence women],” added Francis-Cansfield. “We know that government organisations share data, and this can make migrant women vulnerable. The process is dehumanising and disempowering.” It seems that survivors are held in such restrictive patterns because there is a need to ensure there is a separation between those who do and those that are done to. This false sense of clarity actually renders us less able to cope as we cut off our sense of connection in the desperate desire for simplicity.

In the summer of 2015, Jenn Selby, women's right’s campaigner, journalist and former parliamentary candidate was told her case against a man who she alleged had raped her had been thrown out despite strong enough evidence for the accused to have been formally charge. “Going through trauma is a really strange experience. For me, for a few days, all men became an imminent threat and I could not be in the same room with only male officers,” she said. “This is why gender and cultural sensitivity in these situations is so important. People who speak your language and come from a similar cultural background are important."

Only last week, it was announced that the number of rape convictions in England and Wales has fallen to a record low, according to the BBC. In 2019-20, 1,439 suspects in cases where a rape had been alleged were convicted of rape or another crime - half the number three years ago.

“We also need to understand how rare false reporting is and break down some of the myths about what a survivor of sexual violence looks and sounds like, how they present themselves, and the effect it has on them,” she continued. “All these factors have a huge impact on the way juries think about women who take to the stand. If, as a society, the first thing we do rather than question the rapist is to doubt and question the survivor, how can we expect juries to put personal prejudice aside and make more informed decisions?”

We question the idea of culpability when the rules feel unclear, something so wide and embedded in our collective understanding that it often plays out in literature. In classic novel Rebecca, Maxim’s revelation that he shot his wife is somehow rendered understandable because she was allegedly unfaithful to him. In Jilly Cooper’s Rivals, the character Cameron Cook’s ambition and sexual freedom makes her violent attack by her partner, Tony Baddingham, somehow explainable. In Lisa Taddeo’s hit book Three Women, we meet three women, one of whom is suffering from the impact of a relationship that she had with a married teacher when she was at school. She is despised by her neighbours for telling her story, for questioning their belief that this popular, well-liked teacher is anything but upstanding.

The debate still rages in some circles following the publication of Kate Elizabeth Russell’s 2020 bestseller My Dark Vanessa, in which we follow Vanessa as she looks back at her relationship with a 40-year-old English teacher, which started when she was 15. In the book, ideas of consent are laid bare as the precocious Vanessa eschews the idea that what happened to her was abuse and instead views her past as a doomed, but darkly romantic love story between two consenting adults. Throughout, the question of who holds the power is tossed back and forth as we wonder what part enablement plays, and further whether this chimes with our beliefs about who is vulnerable and who isn’t.

If we are to move forward, we need to hold bigger ideas about what life could and should be and what a victim looks and sounds like. The legal system is beginning to understand this, and strides have been made in the way in which survivors are treated. "Quite often I find the police are highly responsive. 25 years ago, you almost had to go to court with a black eye, but now the starting point is that you are believed,” said Julian Bremner, partner at family law firm Rayden Solicitors.

Despite the deep fears that coming forward can prompt, it’s encouraging to know that the court system can allow, if not justice to always be served, then it can at least be heard. In both the Epstein and Larry Nassar cases, survivors were at least able to confront their perpetrators in court. “Justice is not quick, and it takes enormous strength [to come forward],” said Bremner. “However, the process is in place and [although] there is always more that could be done, what's there is not bad.” The low rape conviction rates in both rape and domestic abuse signal there is certainly a long way to go. The overwhelming majority of domestic abuse cases are not prosecuted; only eight per cent of domestic abuse-related crimes reported to the police will end in conviction.

Spoilers ahead: In the final scenes of I May Destroy You, Coel’s Arabella leads us down a winding road of multiple timelines, where we discover the various ways which could present the truth, ranging from violence and denial to redemption – the idea of using what we've seen or felt to change us for the better. “If there is to be cultural change, we need to believe survivors,” said Francis-Cansfield. “They are the experts of their own experience. We also need a national campaign and training to help the public challenge victim blaming.”

As we slowly blink our way out of lockdown, there has never been a better time to look for similarity rather than difference, to see where we share a likeness rather than rely on rigid placeholders for what we expect. In a time when reality is ripe for change, we can all do better by opening ourselves up to narratives that on the surface might challenge our perceptions or to be painful to accept. It’s sadly these very same narratives that often bring us closer to the truth. Let’s brush away what we thought always worked for us when, in truth, it held us back.

Sign up to our free weekly newsletter for more from Harper's Bazaar, straight to your inbox.

SIGN UP

You Might Also Like