The threshold of doubt

09 Sep 2009

Last night, I attended the third of our mandatory class meetings. The first was on alcohol use, the second on issues of identity and bias, and this one was on sexual assault. Oddly enough, I had actually been looking forward to it the most, because I thought that it would be the most applicable presentation. The first two were certainly interesting (great speakers, excellent presentations), but this one went beyond. The featured speaker was Katie Koestner, whose story and presentation were incredible. I’ve never seen so many people so attentive. I don’t think I heard a word spoken out loud throughout the entire thing.

But what I really want to write about is a discussion I had afterwards. I approached some of the event coordinators who had told us how to get involved with some peer-education programs, to ask some questions, and got involved in a discussion with another guy about the ability to criticize the actions of a victim of such abuse. The discussion lasted a while, but where it ended up was with the concept of a threshold of doubt; a point past which we have no reliable way of asserting how we would act in a situation. I submit that rape is over such a threshold. None of us can predict how we would act given such an intensely demoralizing and disempowering event.

That being said, the guy I was discussing with made the very good point that if we always hold off on judgment based on a lack of certainty, we never reach any conclusions, because nothing is certain. It’s when we make assertions without declaring or implying the proper level of uncertainty that problems happen.

The result of the conversation was the dismissal of several assumptions. When I first heard this guy speak, I assumed him to be an angry, misinformed, and subtly sexist person who denied the role that society and masculinity play in a culture of sexual abuse. By the end of the conversation I had realized that I was completely wrong. This was a thoughtful person who personally knew several rape victims, and was extremely dedicated to moral and practical consistency on opinions and debates relating to this topic.

And I will venture to say that I had taught him something. At the end, we agreed that it was important to understand the context in which one criticizes the actions of a victim of something like rape. I had spuriously accused him of doing more damage than good by bringing it up. He made the very good point that none of the three of us (another person was also involved in the conversation) were in a position, had a desire, or were likely to spread dangerous misinformation. So, with this in mind, I amended my statement, and said that I wanted to make sure he understood the ways in which one must modify such speech in a public forum. This he agreed with.

So we both left the conversation with a heightened respect for the other (he had initially accused me of getting “violent” when I raised my voice following his assertion that beating up a sexual aggressor would help solve the problem), and an increased awareness of how difficult it is to engage in meaningful debate about these issues.

This is the kind of discussion we need more of. Not to sound self-centered, but I think we exemplified the way people should be talking about these things. Especially because both of us had spoken to Katie after the presentation and conveyed our gratitude and interest.

Make no mistake, these issues are incredibly hard to discuss. Emotionally, logically, and morally. But we owe it to the past and future victims to try.