There's a sad fact about violence in this country: how safe you are is determined the second you are conceived. Your gender is the single biggest predictor of your lifelong risk of physical assault, childhood sexual assault, adult rape and intimate partner violence.

Privilege is invisible to me most of the time, as a Pakeha middle aged professional man who lives in a nice part of town. I've never been yelled at in the street, or abused because of how I look. I feel safe walking the streets at night, and I've never had to wonder if my partners over the years were going to assault me when they got angry.

These are things I take for granted, but they are an accident of birth. They are largely because of my gender.

Women are not afforded the same luxury of security. Given the shocking and terrifying statistics reported elsewhere this week, the most rational choice is for women to treat all men as dangerous. To treat all men as a threat, and all men as abusers.


Confronting? Yes, but also true. In 2014 a social media campaign #yessallwomen started in response to the #notallmen campaign. In the latter, men attempted to distance themselves from conversations about violence, sexism and patriarchy by using the logic: "Yes, but not all men are like that."

"#Yesallwomen" set about helping women report and discuss examples of everyday sexism, and frankly it makes for terrifying reading. Everyday sexism is the sharp end of the wedge. As a man, it highlights all the small ways it's important to challenge this behaviour when we see it.

It's the times when men use "woman/ girl/ bitch" (or female body parts) as an insult; talk disrespectfully about their wives or partners to their mates; stand by while someone we know yells at their partner in public; watch as someone gets gropey with a woman at a club who clearly isn't into it; make degrading or sexual comments to a woman as she walks by.

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