'It’s a shame that some men feel cut off from gender discourse at a university renowned for animated debate'Amika Piplapure for Varsity

There is an emerging problem at Cambridge of men having difficulty engaging in discussions on gender in social and academic settings – or so says this deeply defensive piece claiming men are unable to develop “a sense of self” within discourse. It claims it’s impossible for them to engage in, or withdraw from, discussion without being considered “arrogant”, “passive”, “performative”, “suspicious” (pick your favourite) – and makes this assumption on behalf of all men but without any indication of their agreement (I certainly know some who wouldn’t). This is not an unfamiliar complaint; consider how many times we hear the phrase ‘you can’t say anything these days’. The article takes a more delicate tone, but the sentiment feels parallel.

It’s a shame that some men feel cut off from gender discourse at a university renowned for animated debate, but I have good news: this separation is self-inflicted! To quote Colin Firth as Mr Darcy: “The fault is mine and so must the remedy be.” Some good advice for the men in question, I think. They must rectify their difficulties with engaging in discussion, beginning with renouncing their non-existent victimhood.

“Some men confuse harmless learning errors, or controversial ideas, with real moral error”

The false victimhood I speak of is born from a confusing – and insulting – paradox: these men assume, before they even try to speak, that they will be understood incorrectly, and punished unfairly. So, their behaviour supposedly becomes “softened” and “delayed” – a substantial issue at an institution where discussion is a big part of the teaching. However, this kind of avoidance would make no sense to any emotionally mature student at this University - keep your language respectful, your mind open, and you can’t really go wrong. Given the high-pressure atmosphere, feeling nervous to speak is a normal part of life for many people here, myself included. Yet it’s our responsibility to overcome this nervousness, or to recognise it as a warning sign that what we wish to say will be unwelcome, and understand why that is the case.

The paradox can therefore only be explained by assuming that some men confuse harmless learning errors, or controversial ideas, with real ‘moral error’: they think they will be punished for expressing a genuine, logical thought because they don’t realise that sometimes their contributions are in fact disrespectful and make for hostile discussion. Anyone would and should expect backlash for showing a lack of respect for a large group of people, but I am hard pressed to think of anyone I know who would accuse a man of arrogance or passivity for a minor learning mistake, or for expressing a minority opinion. This is a university after all; lack of knowledge should never be feared, and informed ideas should be encouraged – they certainly are in my experience. There concludes my first suggestion to men: consider whether your hesitancy to participate is normal academic nerves, or a subconscious awareness that you’re about to be incredibly disrespectful.

“An aversion to criticism suggests an aversion to education”

This is a major reason why I am very thankful for the supervision-style of learning we have at Cambridge, but again I fear men’s self-prescribed victimhood acts as a barrier to their own growth. This is very much the impression that the article creates, with Garg’s claiming that gender culture has led men to “lose confidence in their ability to do anything at all.” Supervisions make us expose ourselves and our ideas to the real world, and to people who will challenge us. Sometimes it’s not questioning from supervisors and peers that is the challenge, but the mere prospect of speaking these ideas out loud. An essay alone is much too safe a place for real learning to happen, whereas supervisions force us to consider reactions to our arguments and either develop our ideas, or realise our mistakes. If men hesitate to express their ideas during supervisions, I suggest they exit their pity party, stop blaming their unwillingness to speak on the presumption that women will misunderstand them, and, as before, consider: what are the real reasons that my points might not be received well by others? An aversion to criticism suggests an aversion to education.

It is possible to gain greatly from a supervision while not being particularly vocal, as well. The article makes this sound counterintuitive to men, claiming they are forced into “reputational self-protection,” and implying they feel robbed when their input is not required. However, it is essential to learn the skill of when it is best to speak, and best to listen. If your priority in a supervision is to meet a quota of words to say out loud, are you really learning? I suspect the quality of men’s contributions might increase if they become less watered down with scattershot ideas generated for the sake of speaking.

The most disappointing aspect of the issue presented in December’s Varsity article however, for everyone on the receiving end of gender discrimination, is the hint of weaponised incompetence. Garg claims that being “unsure how to inhabit themselves in [gender] frameworks […] will not make [men] better allies – it will only make them quieter.” I fear the implication here is that men need step-by-step instructions on how to engage in academic discussions, and their own social and moral development, before we are allowed to request their support in dismantling gender hierarchies. This is the first time I’ve seen such a display of weaponised incompetence, but upon reflection there may well be a substantial male absence in the campaign against gender discrimination. No particular instances of active male participation spring to my mind – is no news good news? What’s more, male silence on gender inequality would be to their own detriment; punitive prescribed gender norms, fewer parental rights, toxic attitudes towards mental health – perhaps these and other issues will encourage men to enter gender discourse.


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Mountain View

What happened to men at Cambridge?

It’s a shame that an issue about individual men’s comfort has been made out of the much wider, deeper issue of gender inequality – because, as with many sociological topics, discussion about gender necessarily contains discussion about gender inequality. Men should always be invited to be part of the discourse on gender, but they must recognise their privileged position within the issue. The more discussion thrives, the more Cambridge thrives, but we need to understand that the topics we study are not our personal playgrounds, but the very real structures we all live in. The least we can do is approach them with respect, and take responsibility for our behaviour in these discussions.