Friday, April 26, 2013

Fairly Philosophical Friday: The Asymmetry of Pursuit

A few weeks ago I saw the movie Elmer Gantry. The title character is a con man who falls for a traveling preacher named Sharon Falconer, and in the process, becomes a preacher himself. Set in Prohibition era America, it came out in 1960. Though it does a decent job examining the role of religion, however, that, surprisingly, is not what stood out for me. There is one scene where Gantry and Falconer are driving in a car. Gantry pulls over and professes his love to Falconer. He leans in to force a kiss upon her, but she backs away and gets out of the car. He gets out as well, and they have a brief argument where she tells him the only person she can really love is God, and especially cannot love someone like Gantry whom she sees through as an opportunist. They get back into the car and drive to a tabernacle Falconer's been constructing. She is tired of being a traveling revivalist and wants a permanent church. They move into the shadows and scary music plays. Whatever happens next is done offscreen, but in my mind, I'm thinking that at best Gantry is raping her, or worse.

But the next scene is not Sharon Falconer suffering from rape trauma, or her dead body being found. No, she's happy and primping herself up for her sermon. Gantry comes in, and it's clear from their interactions that they are now "an item." Apparently, she just needed more forceful "love" from Mr. Gantry to come around. Maybe I'm overreacting, or not fully understanding the scene. I'm a white heterosexual male who has never feared of being objectified from someone who might cause me harm. But I was disturbed by the story's turn of events.

I've been hearing a lot lately about rape culture. It certainly seems to have a greater spotlight now in the wake of certain current events. It may be just me, but I also get the sense that many view rape culture as a new thing. To which I say: Really?! Rape culture is certainly not a new thing; it's an old thing that we are only now beginning to examine. For most of human history — and in many parts of the world even today — women are just expected to have sex whenever a man wants it. And, like Elmer Gantry, it's a man who knows best what a woman wants.

So, what are we to do? How can we reverse this rape culture? I've seen a few posters about educating men on what is rape, exactly. That's certainly part of the solution. A couple weeks ago, when I started this weekly blog series, I suggested that we should live in a more sexually open society. That too, I think, will help alleviate rape. But I think the greatest antidote to our rape culture is to rethink relationships in general.

You see, compared to much of history, we live in a relatively gender equal society. Women can have the same careers and lives as men, when previously they were forbidden or frowned upon. Sure, there is still a lot of work to be done. Women generally get paid less than men for the same jobs, for example. But where it is still very gender unequal is in the area of relationships. Men are still the ones expected to ask the women out. Though they may go Dutch in paying the restaurant bill, it's still the men who is expected to lead the women in date activities. And therein lies the problem. The men are the pursuers, and the women are the pursued. Often, pursuers don't ask the pursued if they want to be pursued, or to what extent. A hunter doesn't ask a rabbit if it wants to get shot. Now, before you start screaming at your computer screen about male privilege and whatnot, hear me out. I am certainly not giving any excuses for when it is acceptable to rape a woman. I am not equating rape with hunting rabbits. Hunting rabbits is an example, not an analogy. In a perfect world, guys would have the sense to make sure the women absolutely, positively, wanted sex. But we don't live in a perfect world. So — and here is where I get into third rail territory — women, you need to take some responsibility too.

I'm not talking about dressing less provocatively or behaving in a way that won't turn guys on. That's impossible. Even if you were to wear a burqa, some guy will think that's superhot. I'm talking about being more assertive, telling man exactly what you want. It's your body and you have to deal with the consequences if you become a victim to rape. And sometimes, women, you need to be the pursuers. You need to take the risk in asking him out. Because gender equality is not just about which jobs you can hold; it's about how women function in the family and in society. And it begins with being more assertive.

So here's some advice: ladies, you wanna know how to get the man of your dreams? Put down that Cosmo. In fact, torch the rag. You'd get better advice on relationships by reading poorly written fortune cookies. See, you're the gatekeepers of the relationships. We're not as picky as you think we are. We're not going to reject you because of that pimple on your cheek. Those supermodels you envy? We know — or should know — that they are unicorns Photoshopped to perfection. So the next time you see someone you like, take the risk and walk up to him and introduce yourself. I bet you get rejected a lot less than we do when asking you. And guys, no, if she does approach you, that is not an automatic invitation for sex.

Perhaps I'm crazy. Or naïve. Maybe I am a little selfish; I am an introverted man who would love to have a woman ask me out. Unfortunately, even if this blog ever reaches more than my circle of friends, I doubt many women will give my advice a try. Our culture of the asymmetry of pursuit is just too firmly entrenched.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Fairly Philosophical Friday: The Greater Tragedy

There is a quote, misattributed to Joseph Stalin, that goes something like this: "The death of one is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic." When people use this quote, they're often using it to show Joseph Stalin is an evil fuck, the implication being that good, decent people could never think that way. I got bad news for you. We all think that way. The human mind is incapable of processing a number as big as a million; it can barely process a few hundred. And our culture revolves around this uncomfortable fact. Murder is about the most horrendous thing someone could do. Yet, war is perfectly justifiable because the countless numbers of enemy soldiers and citizens are just faceless statistics. Even the casualties and fatalities on our side are just statistics. And our news? The war in Afghanistan is lucky to get any mention anymore. But the bombing in Boston that happened this Monday? Wall to wall coverage. As of this writing, three died in that tragedy. Thousands of American soldiers and who knows how many Afghans have died in the Afghanistan conflict.

Now, I'm not trying to be callous. The bombing in Boston is truly a tragedy and I hope they catch the sons of bitches who did it. But we tend to rarely think about the much larger tragedies that have occurred. The Holocaust, one may argue, is the exception to that rule. But even then, I think we use the Holocaust to show how evil Hitler was, and not to contemplate the magnitude of that genocide. A case in point: Americans of European descent have nearly wiped out the natives. As a white male living on land formerly occupied by…some tribe…maybe the Arapahoe…rarely do I see or hear that genocide being talked about. Yes, I could easily look up which Native American tribe called home in what is now known as the greater Denver area. But the point is: that knowledge has never been welded into my brain. In fact, days, weeks, months go by where I don't even consider the fact that my heritage had murdered millions of Native Americans. Wait, it wasn't murder because it wasn't a single individual murdering another individual. So let me rephrase: I usually don't consider the fact that my heritage staticified millions of Native Americans.

But Sean, what are we to do if we cannot conceive of millions of people? Well, maybe we could try harder. Let's do a thought experiment. Those three people who tragically died in Boston, imagine those are your three closest loved ones. That part's not too hard; you might've already been doing that when you heard the news. That's what makes it so compelling news anyway. Now imagine those three closest loved ones actually represent 1000 people. So you got the death of 3000 people on your mind, about the US fatality rate of a modern protracted conflict instigated by our United States government (i.e., Iraq and Afghanistan.) Now imagine the 37 people closest to you have died. At this point, you're probably expanding your circle to include all the people you really care about, and a fair amount of people you know whose death would be tragic, but you wouldn't be that heartbroken over. Again, multiply by 1000 and you get the US fatality rate for the Korean War. Now let's go to 58 people, that is, 58,000 people. That's the US fatality rate for the Vietnam War. Already, I'm sure in this thought experiment, it's getting hard to distinguish between 37 people dead and 58 people. Your mind is thinking: well, my closest loved ones are dead in both cases, but those other people dead are not going to be too great an emotional burden.

I could go on and on, up and up, to belabor the point. But I shall spare you. The next time you catch yourself thinking like pseudo-Stalin, try doing that thought experiment. Imagine your loved ones murdered brutally before your very eyes. Try making those statistical millions into personal tragedies. It is dark contemplation, true, but if we considered it, I think we would go into fewer wars, and the world would be a better place because of it.

Yes, the Boston bombing is a tragedy. But the greater tragedy is that we forget about the greater tragedies.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Fairly Philosophical Friday: Why the word "Sexy" is offensive to some women.

So. I haven't posted anything on this blog for quite some time. You probably haven't even noticed. It's not like I have a huge following or anything. Usually, I don't notice either. But occasionally, I think to myself, "I really should write something on my blog, if for no other reason but to feel important somehow. Sure, I know the chances of me becoming famous for writing a blog is quite slim; most likely I will occupy a tiny corner in the vast net that is the interwebs. But at least I should pretend I'm important. So what am I gonna do about it? I'm going to start an essay series. Wait, are you supposed to use the word "essay" anymore? Okay, it's a "blog" series. It's going to post 10:30 Mountain U.S. time every Friday morning, and I'm going to call it "Fairly Philosophical Friday." I thought about having all the words start with "Ph" or "F," but I thought that might be perceived as uncreative and pompous. And rightly so. And now, without further ado, I present the first installment of "Fairly Philosophical Friday."

A few days ago one of my friends shared a link to a blog post by Kearstin Nicholson titled "Why is the word 'Sexy' offensive to women?" She sounds legitimately perplexed as to why a woman would find "sexy" offensive. Here is my attempt at answering that question, from a thirtysomething white male perspective.

To begin, I don't know Kearstin Nicholson and she doesn't know me (at least I don't think so!). From her blog post and a quick Internet search, I found that she is a cosplayer and model, sometimes of the tasteful nude kind.

On the face of it, I agree 100% with Kearstin. If a woman puts time and effort into making herself look sexually appealing, and that someone tells her how sexually appealing she is, she should very well take that as a compliment, as Kearstin points out. However, the word "sexy" and anything sexual are very loaded with baggage in our culture. Let me explain.

From birth, we are bombarded on a daily basis with sexually charged images and concepts. At some point, probably around puberty, our minds and bodies process those sexually charged ideas as such. But there is a mutually exclusive dichotomy when ever sex is involved.

On the one hand, we are told that sex is fun and cool; that skinny, busty women are hot and muscled, fatless man are handsome. And we do ourselves up in accordance to such cultural brainwashing, especially women. Now, I know those standards of beauty are impossible for most people, but that is the subject of another blog post. For my purpose here, I'm just showing how our culture values sex. I will say that those impossible standards are changing somewhat. Kearstin, for example, models as a geek for a geek audience.

Now back to the topic at hand: On the other hand, we acknowledge this "sexiness" only to a point, and on an arbitrary basis. If a woman's skimpy bikini can't even cover her areolae, or her outer labia is poking through her thong — and showing any part of a man's genitalia is completely out of the question — then it becomes a crisis of gigantic proportions. Seriously. Remember Janet Jackson and her so-called wardrobe malfunction? The cottage industry of punditry had a field day. At some point sex becomes a deeply private and even shameful endeavor which cannot be discussed in polite society lest it corrupt people's minds. Or something.

So we walk around the world with those two mutually opposed ideas: "sexy" is hot; "sexy" is shameful. George Orwell had a word for that: doublethink. When someone dresses, especially a woman, she can pretend that low cut blouse and push-up bra and miniskirt are neutral fashion statements, because we live in an enlightened society after all, where only Neanderthals would be sexually attracted to that. But then she remembers that cute guy she flirted with the last time she wore this outfit. When someone compliments her on how sexy her outfit is, which choice in the doublethink conundrum is she to use? As Kearstin points out, her reaction to "sexy" is often dictated by how she views the person giving the compliment. But the problem isn't really with the person giving the compliment or the person receiving it. The problem lies in the doublethink itself.

What are we to do? To correct the problem, we need to choose one or the other, choose between "sexy is cool" or "sexy is shameful." I personally would rather choose the former. But that would require a radical rethinking for many people. It would require network TV to show tits and pussies and — gasp! — penises and be able to say "fuck" as freely as any other word. It would require nudity to be no big deal and clothing only necessary for warmth, comfort, or practicality. And sex, of course, would be no more offensive than eating. But that, alas, is a pipe dream.

So, Ms. Kearstin Nicholson, you probably would be comfortable with all that in the above paragraph, but many are not. And as long as they continue to use doublethink to navigate which version of "sexy" they desire, they will continue to be offended by the word.