Victim Blaming: Killing the Female Voice

EssaySociety and Culture
Written By Ellyse Pashen

Exposing the filthy underbelly of public preconceptions which fuel the oppression of sexual assault survivors

She must have sent mixed messages. What was she wearing when it happened? Why didn’t she say something sooner?

These simple questions are brutally imposed on every accuser of sexual assault. These simple questions muddle, manipulate and make mockery of a victim’s traumatic experience. These simple questions push the misogynistic propaganda buried at the heart of our media. These simple questions which, let’s be honest, we have all asked.

Victim blaming is a dangerous weapon, used by manipulative men to deny the prevalence of sexual assault against women and satisfy an ignorant and indolent culture. For too long, our society has been programmed with a victim blaming philosophy, to which we have become subconsciously accustomed. But if we dare to open our eyes to our chaotic culture, we can see victim blaming for what it truly is. A weapon. Manufactured by an embedded patriarchal society, and ruthlessly fired by a sensationalised media. Today, I challenge you to reject common victim blaming tropes and understand the crushing weight behind such simple comments.

Victim blaming is the attribution of popular assumptions—informed by a patriarchal social structure—to defer blame from the perpetrator. Because we live in a system built by the perpetrator. The misogyny entrenched in our society is proof of a systematic failure which allows stereotypical ‘female’ traits to become the source of victim blaming. As a result, people in power are required to look no further than the naïve woman who should have known better—a temporary solution which shields us from the chilling reality. Male violence.

Sarah Everard was raped and murdered by a police officer in London. Her attacker, Wayne Couzens, maliciously used his police authority to coerce her into false arrest for COVID-19 lockdown breaches (Iqbal, 2021). Dispite knowing Couzens was guilty, UK Chief Police Officer Philip Allott, spoke to the BBC radio to blame Sarah for her naivety toward the law. He declared that "women… need to be streetwise about when they can and can't be arrested… she should never have submitted to that" (BBC News, 2021).

So let’s just assume for a moment, that Sarah followed Allott’s advice. What could she have done, called the police? The attack on Sarah Everard was premeditated—Couzens was intending to abduct a woman that night long before he preyed on Sarah. So what if she tried to fight him? Do you honestly think he would have just moved on? And what if he did move on? He would have just attacked the next woman to walk down the street. Because when you tell a woman she should have known the risks, you are really just saying ‘make sure another girl gets raped instead’ (Iqbal, 2021).

There are many things Commissioner Allott could have said in that interview. He could have addressed toxic police culture, where Couzens was nicknamed the ‘Rapist’ without raising any red flags. He could have discussed the negligent system which allowed three indecent exposure accusations against Couzens to go un-investigated. He could have reflected on the fundamentally flawed system which fosters rape culture within the police force. Yet, somewhat predictably, Allott took the easy way out. When the male agenda reigns in society, victim blaming becomes the first line of defence, confining women into gendered stereotypes as scapegoat for male violence.

Despite the wounds victim blaming inflicts, shifting society away from a corrupt algorithm is no simple feat. Such an endeavour involves waging war against one of the worlds most valued conglomerates—the media.

Through social media, rape culture has been digitised, paving new avenues for slut shaming,  cyberbullying and silencing of sexual assault accusers (Logotheti, 2019). These platforms have become host to ungoverned mass shootings executed by a malevolent public. A 2020 study discussing the language around sexual assault on Twitter found that 57% of tweets referencing violence against women overtly favour the perpetrator. Consequently, the Twitter algorithm makes it near impossible not to victim blame, with those who post victim blaming content more likely to be retweeted than users who condemn such behaviour (Suvarna et al., 2020).

Although no longer engaging in blatant victim blaming massacres, news media employ calculated attacks proliferated through article structure, tone and language which subtly shoot responsibility at female victims (Sutherland, 2019). In October 2021, Good Morning Britain host, Richard Madeley, interviewed a female victim of the drink spiking epidemic, continuously asking if she had been “taking precautions.” Madeley continued in a smug tone, interrupting the woman to assert “obviously you’re aware of the risk of drinks being spiked, had you been trying to protect your drink?” (Fitzpatrick, 2021). This man is proof of the ignorant complicity men exhibit. This man who will never be told to protect his drink, lecturing a woman who should never have had to in the first place. It is a complex web of sexist attitudes layered with conformity, and it is victim blaming at its finest.

Nevertheless, perhaps you enjoy victim blaming. Maybe at some underpinning level, you enjoy the fact that if it was the victim’s fault, it can’t happen to you. Women are so afraid of male violence that we pretend it only exists in the life of the careless. This unconscious bias is not your fault—it has been framed by a patriarchal culture which endorses sexual assault. It has been vigorously programmed into our legal system, media, and attitudes. It reflects the male agenda which has seized our society, while we remain subconsciously compliant.

So if victim blaming is a bug encoded in the core of beliefs, how could we even begin to shut it down? Honestly, I don’t know. I can’t tell you to sign a petition or join an activist group, because these words mean nothing unless you have the courage to shift your mindset.

Grace Tame—2021 Australian of the year—has this courage. Through her campaign, Grace reformed a Tasmanian gag-law which allowed perpetrators the right to promote their story, while suppressing victims (Funnell. 2021). Grace is proof that although we don’t have all the answers, women are ready to rebel against our indoctrinated prejudices.

We must accept that the victim did not send mixed messages, because no women asks to be raped. We must stop questioning what she was wearing, and ask why it matters. We must recognise that she refrained from disclosing sexual assault sooner, because biased police questioning supressed her to silence.

There is simply not enough time for me to discuss the countless victim blaming stories in the media this year. I could tell you about the Australian defence chief who warned female cadets about being too ‘attractive’ (Greene, 2021). Or what about the female FIFO worker who was told to dress more conservatively after reporting sexual harassment (King, 2021). Regardless of the story, the ending is always the same. A woman is scrutinised, and a perpetrator walks free. In a world where violence against women can be discussed so openly online, society is still unable to identify the systemic issue.

Because honestly, I am tired of being taught new ways to not get assaulted. I don’t want to learn how to use my car keys as a weapon. I don’t want to know how to cover my drink to stop it from being spiked. I don’t want to constantly look over my shoulder if I am alone. I want to live in a world where we don’t need these things. Where maybe, just maybe, a woman could feel safe to walk down the street.

Ellyse Pashen
Next

Beyond the picket fence