Does anything ever change?

My whole life, I’ve been hearing about how much progress we’ve made, whether the question is the status of Black and Indigenous lives, women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, immigrants’ rights, the lives of the differently abled, etc. But when I look around, something always seems amiss. Instead of seeing progress, or anything remotely resembling equity, I see a statement meant to shut up those who dissent. In fact, I think it’s an example of what they call gaslighting.

If you engage with social media, you’ve probably come across the term “gaslighting” before. It traces its origin to a play called Gas Light (1938), written by Patrick Hamilton. In the play, a husband psychologically abuses his wife, lying to her and making little changes in their home, and convincing her that she is imagining things when she notices his changes, causing her to question her own sanity. Essentially, gaslighting is manipulating someone by dismissing their feelings and perspective, to the point where they begin to believe things that are untrue. If you take a minute to think, you might realize how common this abusive behaviour is. I think all women and all racialized people have been gaslighted, likely many times, by people close to them, by acquaintances, by strangers, and by their society. It’s not always an overt attempt to psychologically abuse someone; it can be as simple as being told flat out that you’re wrong when you discuss or react to something that happened to you.

(Source: Chump Lady)

I live near a university, and I often stumble upon flyers, stickers, and graffiti in the area complaining about misandry and false rape allegations made by women. Such language is almost always the handiwork of so-called men’s rights activists (MRAs). The existence of that term is a gaslight itself, like the reactionary slogan “All Lives Matter”; if you believe that men, who literally control the world, are being disenfranchised, then how are you to ever feel compassion for anyone whom you don’t see as being like you? The latest find in my neighbourhood was a sticker stating that 80% of all suicides are committed by men, accompanied by the phrase “Men Matter.” Let’s leave aside that statement of the obvious (“men matter”) for a moment. Yes, men in Canada commit suicide at three times the rate women do. This is a problem. But how do the MRAs propose to solve it? If you peruse anything the self-professed misandry fighters post online, you’ll usually find a white male centred narrative that is very hostile to feminism and often to women in general. There is no questioning of patriarchy; I’ve never seen that term used in the antimisandry lexicon. Conversely, hypermasculinity is encouraged. Are they promoting the idea that men open up and discuss their depression, which might lead to suicide? It certainly doesn’t seem like it. So, it is for that very reason that I question their motives when they talk about the problem of suicide.

Let’s come back to this non-argument that “men matter.” When has this notion ever been challenged? The usual arguments one hears from the antifeminists and devil’s advocate types relate to child custody cases and education. Again, these are valid problems—and again what are those who are so outraged by these injustices doing to help those affected by this? Other common arguments concern domestic abuse and rape, including false allegations of rape. Again, what is the solution, besides demonizing people? Where are the resources targeting men who are seeking to escape abusive relationships or who need help dealing with PTSD resulting from sexual assault? Once again, this would require contravening the norms of patriarchy and encouraging men to actually talk about their feelings. And what about prosecuting the women who do make false rape allegations? Isn’t there a long history of white women falsely accusing Black and other racialized men of rape? My point is that when there is actual evidence to support the claims of the “men’s rights” camp, it makes little difference, if it conflicts with the patriarchal, racist position in which so many of these antimisandry warriors seem to be placed.

Cries of injustice that aren’t accompanied by compassion seem hollow to me. So, naturally, I view the purpose of MRAs as undermining feminists and pointing fingers at them for the problems that (white) men face. It may be easy to sit online and find statements made by random people that you can call examples of misandry, but how exactly is misandry working in the power structure to oppress men? I really would like to know. You know what I think? I think MRAs have no concept of what power is and how it works. Though they may spout statistics from time to time, and argue their position vehemently, such people have no interest in facts or helping anyone. Their function is to gaslight those who are discussing the lived realities of marginalized people. I would lump them in with the same people who complain about “reverse racism” (“Foul! You’re questioning my superiority over you!”).

Recently, the Government of Canada announced that there would be a woman on the new $10 bill. After hundreds of names were proposed, the decision was made. Not only would it be a woman; she would be a Black woman: Viola Desmond. On social media, the reaction was mostly favourable, but still mixed. Many white commentators had no idea who Viola Desmond was. I read a few comments on Facebook questioning why a historical figure from Nova Scotia had been chosen instead of someone with more pan-Canadian appeal. In fact, someone said, “Why not Laura Secord?” My response to that is that this is the only woman in Canadian history that anyone in this country ever hears about; it’s time to acknowledge that other women have existed. There was also a lot of contentment, as though this was a sign that Canada was finally making progress toward ending racial and gender inequality. This is, of course, what the Trudeau government—which has no Black Cabinet ministers—would like us to think too. In truth, I was initially excited about the news. Then I thought about it some more: a well-off, light-skinned businesswoman, who fought for her own right to sit where she wanted in a movie theatre, being commemorated as though she was the only person fighting for civil rights in Canada—sounds like the ideal Liberal poster girl and nothing more. I tweeted the following:

As writer Septembre Anderson has argued both on Twitter and in an audio essay for the CBC, this is nothing more than tokenism.

And not surprisingly, Anderson was subsequently harassed, abused, and threatened online.

So, what does it mean when someone expresses a feeling or shares an experience or observation and another person shouts them down with, “But things are much better now than they were before”? Is it so beyond our comprehension that change might merit immediacy? What are we waiting for? And why should anyone be content to wait for those with the power to give them their rights or to treat them as though they are human? Moreover, if change is happening in small increments—so small that some people don’t even feel it—why would someone believe that if they’re patient enough, things will not just get “better” but be just? And what does one have to gain by trying to convince someone else that things are much better now than they were before? I can’t help but perceive that as a means of shutting up anyone who would challenge the status quo.