Further-semi-aside: “common knowledge that we will coordinate to resist abusers” is actively bad and dangerous to victims if it isn’t true. If we won’t coordinate to resist abusers, making that fact (/ a model of when we will or won’t) common knowledge is doing good in the short run by not creating a false sense of security, and in the long run by allowing the pattern to be deliberately changed.
I don’t think it’s that simple. First, if abusers and victims exist then the situation just is actively dangerous. Hypocrisy is unavoidable but it’s less bad if non-abusers can operate openly and abusers need to keep secrets than vice versa. Second, I don’t think the pattern can be deliberately changed except by creating a sense of security that starts out false but becomes true once enough people have it.
The thing ialdabaoth and Nick are both pointing towards is something like ’the capacity to actually point out abuse (or any kind of unethical conduct) when someone you respect is involved (or someone all your friends respect) is really hard. It is something that requires practice, awareness of your self, and awareness of how the web of social connections works, and often literal sacrifice.
And it’s something that is very easy to tell a story about how you’d totally speak out, or go to the cops or something. But if it turns out that your mom/dad/favorite-teacher/favorite-writer /favorite-startup-founder/boss-that-is-paying-your-salary/venture-capitalist-who-can-offer-you-money is doing something wrong, the overwhelming default course of action is to just fail at speaking out, and if all you have is a vague narrative that you’re a good person or that your community is good people, you will be woefully unprepared.
Of course, all of that is true. I’d go further and say there’s basically no way a vague narrative that you’re a good person would be enough. What I’m trying to say is that the fear of the consequences of speaking out should be balanced with the fear of the consequences of looking complicit if the truth comes out and you didn’t speak out. Talking about how advantageous it can be to ignore abuse, or how hard it is to speak out (and implicitly, how forgivable it would be) is tipping that scale in the wrong direction.
I do agree with that (As mentioned in my earlier comment, I still lean in the direction of deleting comments like the initial downvoted one in the future).
But as worded I think I (at least sort of) disagree with your comment, in particular:
Second, I don’t think the pattern can be deliberately changed except by creating a sense of security that starts out false but becomes true once enough people have it.
I don’t think this is the mechanism by which anyone becomes safe. I think the sense of security doesn’t add up to “actual safety” even if 100% of the people have it.
I should’ve been more clear—by safety I meant safety of making a (true) accusation, rather than direct safety from actual abuse. I think the latter can only follow from the former.
Further-semi-aside: “common knowledge that we will coordinate to resist abusers” is actively bad and dangerous to victims if it isn’t true. If we won’t coordinate to resist abusers, making that fact (/ a model of when we will or won’t) common knowledge is doing good in the short run by not creating a false sense of security, and in the long run by allowing the pattern to be deliberately changed.
I don’t think it’s that simple. First, if abusers and victims exist then the situation just is actively dangerous. Hypocrisy is unavoidable but it’s less bad if non-abusers can operate openly and abusers need to keep secrets than vice versa. Second, I don’t think the pattern can be deliberately changed except by creating a sense of security that starts out false but becomes true once enough people have it.
The thing ialdabaoth and Nick are both pointing towards is something like ’the capacity to actually point out abuse (or any kind of unethical conduct) when someone you respect is involved (or someone all your friends respect) is really hard. It is something that requires practice, awareness of your self, and awareness of how the web of social connections works, and often literal sacrifice.
And it’s something that is very easy to tell a story about how you’d totally speak out, or go to the cops or something. But if it turns out that your mom/dad/favorite-teacher/favorite-writer /favorite-startup-founder/boss-that-is-paying-your-salary/venture-capitalist-who-can-offer-you-money is doing something wrong, the overwhelming default course of action is to just fail at speaking out, and if all you have is a vague narrative that you’re a good person or that your community is good people, you will be woefully unprepared.
Of course, all of that is true. I’d go further and say there’s basically no way a vague narrative that you’re a good person would be enough. What I’m trying to say is that the fear of the consequences of speaking out should be balanced with the fear of the consequences of looking complicit if the truth comes out and you didn’t speak out. Talking about how advantageous it can be to ignore abuse, or how hard it is to speak out (and implicitly, how forgivable it would be) is tipping that scale in the wrong direction.
I do agree with that (As mentioned in my earlier comment, I still lean in the direction of deleting comments like the initial downvoted one in the future).
But as worded I think I (at least sort of) disagree with your comment, in particular:
I don’t think this is the mechanism by which anyone becomes safe. I think the sense of security doesn’t add up to “actual safety” even if 100% of the people have it.
I should’ve been more clear—by safety I meant safety of making a (true) accusation, rather than direct safety from actual abuse. I think the latter can only follow from the former.
Ah, I think that makes sense.