Misogyne Selbstverarsche? – Kritischer Kalender

Introduction to cis male self-reflection

Whether we want to or not, whether we admit it to ourselves or not – we have all internalized misogyny. We think it is important to address it – also and especially from a cis male perspective. In our experience, however, such discussions are often superficial or dishonest, get lost in general feminist blah-blah and get stuck where men give the impression of being feminist and know how to empty the dishwasher on their own. We realize that we won't wait until cis endo men have reflected enough to fight for feminism and we don't believe that we can abolish the patriarchy that way.

Nevertheless, we think that such confrontations must be part of anti-sexist practice. However, public confrontations by cis hetero men with their misogyny or their perpetration have often failed in the past – see the case of Valentin Moritz¹.

And even if such a debate were not characterized by self-presentation, profiling and performative self-reflection, the question would still remain as to whether we should even hear the voices of perpetrators and cis men confronting their misogyny in feminist public debates². One thing is clear: we should focus on the voices of those who are affected by sexism and patriarchy. And yet, in the following text, we want to attempt an anonymous cis-male self-reflection from the calendar team.

We see various reasons for this: Firstly, we want to continue to publish personal and approachable texts that readers (in this case, cis-hetero men) can identify with (and in this case, be particularly frightened of themselves). Secondly, such texts can be read as a warning to all those who have to deal with men - especially the critical cis hetero men - and are potentially affected by their misogyny and claim to male superiority, which often remain well hidden from the outside world.

Nevertheless, we are convinced that a practice of self-reflection alone will not be enough to effectively overcome inner patriarchal patterns. Feminist criticism of this self-reflection is always needed in order to critically question motives and conclusions and not let men get away with superficialities.

Therefore, and so that we don't just leave the whole thing uncommented, we will then publish a few feminist responses from various FLINTA* perspectives from the calendar team. Stay tuned.

Misogynistic self-mockery?

Content Note: The following text will deal with assault as well as misogyny, sexuality, pornography and perpetrator protection from a personal, cis hetero male perspective.

I have been dealing with sexism, my masculinity and my hetero-cis privileges for some time now. I set myself the goal of standing up for justice and dealing with FLINTA* in my environment in an appropriate, 'reasonable' and non-sexist way. I don't commit blatant, misogynistic assaults, nor do I pull obviously sexist shit. I mostly know how to behave, which is why others and myself often think I'm one of the good guys.

Of course, that doesn't mean that I don't have sexist or misogynistic thoughts and behaviors. Because I naturally have a lot of misogynistic leeway in this society. The bar is often set so low that with superficial self-reflection, a little empathy, a basic understanding of feminist viewpoints and a certain physical gentleness, I can strengthen my self-image of the 'good guy' and at the same time be recognized in many progressive circles. So I can - consciously or unconsciously - confidently let off the odd misogynistic comment or even just think one without it being challenged.
Of course, that doesn't mean that I don't have sexist or misogynistic thoughts and behaviors. Because I naturally have a lot of misogynistic leeway in this society. The bar is often set so low that with superficial self-reflection, a little empathy, a basic understanding of feminist viewpoints and a certain physical gentleness, I can strengthen my self-image of the 'good guy' and at the same time be recognized in many progressive circles. So I can - consciously or unconsciously - confidently let off the odd misogynistic comment or even just think one without it being challenged.

Because I could ask myself how trusting my solidarity with victims of male violence would really be when it comes down to it. Especially if the first thing that jumps into my stomach when I hear the words 'rape accusation' and 'exclusion of perpetrators' is a spark of fear of consequences and compassion for an excluded person. For a second, I identify with the perpetrator before quickly coming to a feminist standpoint. But I don't ask myself that question. I don't deal with this fear. I just pretend it's not there or half-heartedly justify it by saying that I've internalized perpetrator protection narratives.

Or I look at my experiences with mainstream porn, which I always knew was 'somehow problematic'. I'm ashamed that I'm turned on by the angle the videos take, how women are portrayed, and when they usually end up ejaculating on their bodies or in their faces. The pleasure I get from these videos ultimately reflects the fact that in my sexual fantasies I often imagine women as a tool for my satisfaction. And this pleasure doesn't just disappear when I switch to feminist porn or get disgusted by it afterwards. So I keep it a secret. It doesn't fit in with my self-image. But apart from shame, there is little else. I push the topic away before I can really deal with it emotionally or discuss it with other guys.

The same applies to situations in public spaces: I neither look intrusively at people I find attractive or desirable, nor do I flirt unpleasantly. However, this sexual attraction is sometimes accompanied by a subliminal desire for these bodies to be available to me (like after 2 clicks on pornhub). How do I deal with it? I push it away. It doesn't fit in with my self-image. You don't do that. I don't do that – unlike other men. I don't even deal with the emotions I have when I formulate this observation. I keep all of that as far away from me as possible.

When I'm around feminists, the feminist demands on me increase. Even if I think I'm on their side, it makes me uneasy. I encounter resistance. Resistance that is felt by the people who criticize me. Resistance that I accept in part, but also swallow down in order to prove my ability to take criticism. Resistance that I rarely admit to myself and that feeds subliminal fear, aversion and anger towards feminists and FLINTA* in general. Resistance that actually signals to me quite clearly that I'm not that interested in changing certain conditions.
After all, I benefit from my own and society's misogyny: it offers protection and justification from myself and others if I overstep boundaries and fail to acknowledge mistakes. It makes it possible for me – consciously or unconsciously – to exploit gender power hierarchies, e.g. during sex, for my own satisfaction, even without being abusive. It makes it possible for me not to take feminist criticism of me seriously and a comfortable debate with it gives me an advantage in progressive circles over men who don't.

Of course, the very first thing that is important and right is to resist these misogynistic impulses, which in themselves represent a potential for violence.
Nevertheless, I have to ask myself quite clearly what is behind this: Who does it actually benefit if I push away or swallow my misogynistic impulses and my emotional reactions to them? And what does this misogyny and my avoidance actually have to do with my masculinity?
Because how can it be that looking at my feelings about these impulses often means not really perceiving any? Sometimes this horrifies me, sometimes it leaves me perplexed and lost and sometimes I am angry with myself and my emotional indifference: where is my grief, my solidarity and my compassion for the people against whom my misogyny is directed and where is my disgust with myself when I find myself identifying with perpetrators? What kind of disgusting strategy is it to quickly push it away, fend it off or ignore it over and over again in order to stay at peace with myself, not really having to change anything about myself and not fundamentally questioning my masculinity?

I don't know if other guys feel the same way or how they deal with it. After all, I don't really talk about it even with my critical mates. But I do know that I was and am good at neither acknowledging nor challenging some misogynistic impulses and thoughts - at least until I'm repeatedly put in front of consistent, feminist criticism. It's embarrassing, but in the end it's probably the sad truth.