#notme

If you haven’t been living under a rock these past few days, you’ve undoubtedly encountered the #metoo social media hashtag campaign. Prompted by the allegations of sexual misconduct against Harvey Weinstein, the campaign encourages “women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted” to post on social media to show the rest of the world just how widespread this epidemic is.

Now, let me be clear: sexual assault is certainly a violation of the Non-Aggression Principle, so as a committed pacifist I am most definitely not in favor of it. I have different ideas about the appropriate way to respond to such crimes than most, but that’s not what this post is about. I am bothered by the lumping in of “harassment” with “assault” as though they are equally heinous, and I am annoyed with the unspoken assumption underlying the claims of Hollywood misconduct: namely, that the women involved weren’t responsible for their own actions.

There is a disturbing trend, mostly on the left, of equating speech with violence. I am opposed to violence–moreso than your average leftist, without question–but I do tend to be a stickler for labeling as violence only those things which are actually, you know, violent. Violence requires a rights violation, and contrary to current popular opinion, one does not actually have a right not to hear words or ideas one does not like. The guy who whistles at you on the street or comments on your appearance might be a jerk, but he hasn’t violated your rights, and he hasn’t committed a crime.

Perhaps it is because I take such a strict view on what is actually an actionable offense, but I am hard-pressed to come up with a time when I felt sexually harassed, despite the fact that I’m assured that it happens to all women literally all the time. I can certainly think of things that I’m supposed to call harassment, but I can’t think of any time that I felt offended or unsafe in my dealings with men. Maybe I’ve just been extremely lucky. Maybe better-looking women get more unwanted attention. Or maybe I’m simply capable of understanding that grownups of both sexes can exchange sarcastic comments and innuendo without anyone being a victim. Yes, some people are slimy jerks, but the appropriate response is to remove yourself from the company of those people, not bring down the law on their heads because you don’t like their behavior.

Which brings me to the second, “victim blaming” problem I have with this campaign: it is predicated on the assertion that women are never responsible for the situations they put themselves in or the actions they take. As a competent, intelligent woman, I resent this. If I am not held responsible for my choices, it implies that I am not fully autonomous. If I have the capacity to make decisions I believe to be in my best interest, I cannot be a victim as a result of those decisions.

You may have heard of a little thing called the Nuremberg defense. Autonomous individuals who committed terrible crimes claimed that they were not responsible for their actions because they were following orders. By taking this defense, soldiers allow themselves to be simply tools, rather than rational actors. While I can certainly have some sympathy for those who are forced to make a choice between committing horrendous war crimes or being killed themselves, even Hollywood can’t put so dramatic a spin on the decisions of aspiring actresses. Every woman who voluntarily disrobed for a casting call made a conscious decision to do so. Even if she were only sixteen at the time, that’s well beyond old enough to know what she was doing and why. If she claims she had no choice–and was not actually violently coerced–she is stripping herself of her status as a rational agent, relegating herself to second-class status, and preventing the exact thing that feminists claim to want: for women to be treated as equals.

If every soldier refused to kill, there would be no war. If every actress refused to take off her clothes to get a part, there would be no Harvey Weinstein scandal. Human beings can have equal rights only when they are willing to accept an equal responsibility for their actions. Don’t insult women by saving us from the need to take that responsibility.

It Takes A Village

If there is anything the last twelve weeks have taught me, it is that parenting is hard. Sure, everyone said so, but I didn’t really have any idea what it meant until I did it. Breastfeeding hurt, and it wasn’t until week eight or so that the little one and I finally hit our stride there. Hours spent comforting a screaming baby with no apparent reason to be screaming caused even my inhumanly patient husband to throw up his hands in frustration. Worries over whether the baby is eating enough, pooping enough, exercising enough, hitting his age-appropriate milestones plagued my exhausted brain, cutting into my precious little time for sleep.

Everyone also said it is all worth it, and so far I have to agree. But there is no way that I would have made it this far without help. My husband, of course, has been wonderful, but I don’t mean just him. I have a church family that supplied me with almost everything a new mother could need, as well as much appreciated hints and tips and personal experiences. They’re also quick to jump in and hold the baby when he fusses while mama is in the middle of playing a hymn–in fact, they fight over the opportunity! We are a continent away from our families, but I know I can offer my son a community of people who love him and will shepherd him as he grows. I’m so grateful for all of their help and I fully recognize how much I need it.

What I don’t need, however, are government parasites telling me how to raise my child. I don’t need handouts designed to make me dependent, I don’t need government schools to indoctrinate my son into official allowable opinions, and I don’t need bureaucrats deciding what is best for me and my family. Until he is able to make decisions for himself, there is no one more qualified than myself and his father to choose what is in my son’s best interest.

So yes, it takes a village, but not the way they mean it. My son does not belong to society at large, and he does not exist so that he can serve the “greater good” by bowing to the ruling class. He is not a cog in a machine or cannon fodder for a politician’s ambition. Now I just need to figure out how to raise him to believe that as fervently as I do!