How to be difficult

Earlier this week I wrote a post about the Cornell rapes – about how awkward it can be to speak up against rape culture, and why it’s so important that men try to do it anyway. I’d love you guys to understand that being a ‘good guy’ doesn’t usually mean saying the right thing and then getting praise, but saying the difficult thing that prompts an uncomfortable silence. It isn’t easy to be difficult, but if you want to step up to the plate, here are some tips.

Men who don’t care to speak up and challenge rape culture, I’ve written a little note especially for you. Please read it before commenting here or on social media. Thanks.

How to listen when someone needs to talk about rape

Before we get into the tough stuff, let’s talk a little about communication in general. It’s easy to tell people they need to be better at communication around difficult topics, but it isn’t always clear how to start. Alongside learning to challenge dodgy rape-culture-enforcing comments, it’s worth examining how comfortable you feel discussing rape in the first place. Do people feel safe talking about rape and sexual assault with you? Are you willing and able to provide support when they do that?

The idea for this post was prompted by a discussion on Mastodon. I’d explained in my original post how awkward most men are when rape or sexual assault comes up in conversation (whether it’s rape in the news like the Cornell story, or women’s own experiences), and how disappointing it is when they shuffle uncomfortably and change the subject.

Someone told me earnestly: ‘I still genuinely do not know how to have that conversation’, and I understand. If you aren’t used to having these conversations, you might no know how to begin. For what it’s worth, if a friend tells you that they’ve been raped or sexually assaulted, in my opinion a gentle ‘that’s awful, do you want to talk about it?’ is a good start.

Naturally you also need to be the kind of person who receives these stories well: provide a sympathetic listening ear, and don’t do anything harmful like trying to ‘play devil’s advocate’. The devil has plenty of advocates, your friend needs a friend. Assuming you’re not a rape apologist, just a decent person who’s awkward and unsure how to tackle this, asking someone if they’d like to talk and then listening with care and kindness is a solid approach.

It’s important work, too. Rape culture relies on victims feeling shame about what the perpetrator did. Questioning themselves (did I ask for it? Did I do everything I could do prevent it? Did I somehow deserve it?) in ways that can be incredibly damaging. As I mentioned in my first post about Cornell, I (and many other women I know) take note of the awkward silence some men sink into if we share our experiences, and that silence can be anything from depressing and frustrating to outright harmful. It can make us feel like we’ve done something wrong.

So. Before you learn how to be difficult and make yourself a problem for rape apologists, set a good foundation by ensuring you’re comfortable talking about rape in the first place. Practice listening with belief and sympathy, without judgment. Make space in your conversations for those who have been raped to talk about it if they want to. Show them that their stories will be heard and valued, and demonstrate clearly that they won’t be interrogated or shamed. That’s a very important brick in the foundation of a better culture.

We are often told that the solution to a problem is better communication, but not always given the tools – questions, phrases, approaches, ideas – to help us communicate more effectively. And as someone who has often been told I am good at communication, I find this frustrating: good comms isn’t an innate skill that some of us are born with and others not, it’s a skill that we actively work on and develop over time. So whenever I find myself urging people to communicate better, I also want to offer some tools that might help to develop this skill.

That’s what we’re gonna do here.

Challenging ‘creep chat’

Imagine you’re in a situation where someone has just done or said something that perpetuates rape culture. Maybe they made a disparaging comment about a woman in the news who’s been raped, perhaps it was a joke that implied rape was hilarious or deserved. You’re in an environment where this kind of behaviour is either encouraged or ignored – a lads’ group chat, a locker room, whatever – and you want to be the guy (or hopefully, one of many guys) who challenges these statements. I’m going to use the term ‘creep chat’ to refer to this stuff, just for ease of reference.

Feel free to insert any creepy/ugly/inappropriate comment or joke you’d like to stand up to. Perhaps there’s one that flits to the front of your memory: a joke a friend made at a party last year that you wish you had challenged in the moment. One that’s been playing in your head ever since, that you’re annoyed you didn’t have the courage or speed to pick up on. Follow this guide, learn how to be difficult, and let’s make sure that this creep has less fun at the next party.

The aim of the game

I understand that you probably want to change minds. Maybe you dream of having a powerful speech on quickdraw in your memory banks that you can reel off in the moment. One that will simultaneously make this creep rethink their behaviour, and cause everyone in earshot to tut in disgust, shaming this arsehole into instantly becoming a better person.

Weirdly, though, even as a professional writer and angry feminist, I can never lay my hands on this speech when I need it.

Forget the speech.

There is no speech.

Remember what I said at the start? This isn’t about being a hero who makes a dramatic change, and your work here will likely go unrewarded. The goal is to be difficult. You are not here to personally change this creep’s mind, or the minds of the people around you, and if you set out to do those things you’re on a hiding to nothing. The aim of the game is not to say the right thing or the perfect thing, the aim is to simply say something.

Say something.

With clarity and certainty: say something. You cannot control the creep’s reactions, or anybody else’s. You can only control what you do. The goal is to be difficult, so if you’ve said something that’s created friction or discomfort, then congratulations! You’ve succeeded. Friction and discomfort are our measures of success.

We don’t want this person to be in any doubt that you disapprove of what they’ve said. There can be no uncertainty. If they walk away wondering whether they might have made a mistake? You have not been difficult enough. If there isn’t an uncomfortable silence in the immediate aftermath of this person’s shitty joke or fucked-up comment, you’re gonna be the guy who summons one.

It’s frightening. It’s hard. In the moment I’m always wondering if this is going to cause an evening to turn sour, or even if it’s going to get me yelled at or assaulted by the man I am challenging. So far I’ve never been assaulted, but I’ve certainly been told off and frowned at as if to say ‘ugh, why must you do this? We were having so much fun!’. Difficulty unlocked.

Here are a few things you can say that are very very simple. Practice them. If you’ve never done this before it will not be easy. But that’s OK because we’re learning how to be difficult.

Annoying. Uncomfortable. Rude. Challenging. Brave.

“That is fucked up/That’s misogynist/That’s creepy”

Clear, direct, excruciating: an excellent choice. You’re challenging the behaviour/statement and saying why you challenged it. The person responsible for the creep chat now knows that you won’t tolerate that shit. In my experience, naming the behaviour specifically (especially if you use the word ‘misogynist’) is the swiftest route to the most uncomfortable silence, and therefore probably the best choice to accomplish your goal.

However, it is also likely to receive the following response, because people who engage in creep chat will always be quick to whip out this card:

‘I’m only joking!’

Now they grin smugly at you – they’ve turned the tables, and made you look like a horrible killjoy loser because you did not laugh along! Haha! They’re holding up a shield to try and bounce the shame back at you.

But good news! You’re Being Difficult now, so shame does no damage. Zero points. You’re deliberately trying to poison the atmosphere, after all. You want this to be awkward! You love an uncomfortable silence! You, my difficult friend, eat shame for breakfast – washed down with a glass of delicious, ice-cold embarrassment.

If someone tells you ‘I’m only joking’ then just summon an extra burst of that difficult spirit (I believe in you) and push them to explain a little further. ‘Why is that funny?’ works well, or if you don’t want to prolong this any longer, then ‘that’s not funny, it’s disgusting’ will probably do.

“No/Shut up/Absolutely the fuck not”

If you can’t put your finger on exactly what’s wrong with their statement, maybe it just gave you the creeps or you’re struggling to summon the right words, then a simple ‘no’ accompanied by a disgusted expression is a useful tool in your toolkit.

I can’t stress enough here that we’re not aiming for ‘perfect’, we’re aiming for ‘better than nothing’. I’m assuming that if you’re reading this guide you’re learning how to be difficult from a standing start. If you rarely or never challenge creep chat in the moment, then saying ‘something’ is the first important step.

When you’ve stopped them in their tracks, expand if you can:

No, you don’t get to say that creepy shit and get away with it.
Shut up Brett, you rapey little prick.
Absolutely the fuck not, I don’t agree and I’m angry that you think you can get away with saying that in front of me.

Whatever you need to say to make this person feel uncomfortable, and ideally to bring an awkward silence to the group you’re in at the time. Later down the line, when you’re practiced and feeling more confident, you can play jazz with your challenges and even have a little bit of fun. Personally, when men inflict tedious misogynist waffle on me or a group (usually when they’re talking about other women in disparaging ways), I’m a fan of interrupting them to say “sorry, can I just check – you do know that I’m a woman, right? And you know I can hear and understand this misogynist rant?”. A clanger and a half, I love dropping it.

For now, though, just practice saying something. Get creative later if you like, for now just please say something.

“What did you say?”

If all else fails and your courage deserts you, force them to say it again. Pretend you didn’t hear properly the first time around. Act like you weren’t concentrating. Often this stuff slides because it’s just a little aside, a casual bit of ‘banter’ that slips through as people continue the more relevant parts of the conversation.

But don’t let them continue. Do not let it slide.

Force them to say it again.

I’ll be honest, this is often my go-to. I have anxiety and it’s hard to challenge people, especially people I don’t know. So if someone indulges in creep chat that might otherwise slip under the conversational radar I’ll chime in:

“What was that?” all innocent-faced and calm.

“Oh nothing,” they usually reply, because often the very act of turning on a light can cause them to scuttle away. Don’t let them get away with a dignified exit, though: push harder.

“No, seriously, I didn’t catch it – what did you say?”

“It was just a joke.”

“What was the joke?”

…

“What was the joke?”

…

“Seriously, what was the joke?”

Force them to say it again. Make it awkward. Make it weird. Make it deeply uncomfortable. Make them feel each and every word of their joke as they have to drag the words from their brain a second time, knowing now that you (and hopefully the rest of the group) are paying much closer attention.

Sometimes the very fact that they’re having to repeat themselves will make them realise what they said was fucked up in the first place. You’ll get the joy of seeing a little flicker of discomfort cross their face before you deadpan ‘that’s not funny’ and then turn away.

It will still probably be awkward, though, so well done! Awkward was the goal, and you succeeded – you difficult champ.

There’s another task I’d like you to tackle, and this one is (I hope) even easier than the ones we’ve done so far. You’ve learned how to be difficult on your own, so now you’re gonna break off to work in pairs…

Back up your difficult friends

As someone who has occasionally (not frequently, and certainly not often enough – I am always learning) been the difficult person in the room, I want to stress how important it is that you back up your difficult friends. Perhaps you couldn’t summon the courage to challenge the creep chat yourself, or you didn’t hear it initially but you listen in when your friend makes the rapey cunt repeat it. Maybe you just decided to let it slide, because you didn’t want to rock the boat, but you know that later you’ll be lying in bed feeling terrible for not saying something. Whatever your reasons for not being difficult initially, you can rectify that mistake by standing up for anyone who did.

When I am the difficult person who says ‘that’s misogynist’ or ‘why would you say that?’, I am usually ready to handle a defensive response from the person I’m challenging or their friends. What I am rarely prepared for, and struggle to cope with, is silence from my own friends. It’s happened a few times. Friends or (more often) partners who have looked down or looked away or even made a face as if to say ‘not now’ when I’m being difficult: that’s gutting. Worse, sometimes – I’ve had men I love chip in to correct me, to let me know I am overreacting or that this particular bit of creep chat was probably a joke. They’re trying to smooth everything over, and in doing so they’re stealing the uncomfortable silence that should be my just reward.

It feels incredibly lonely, especially when it’s people who you’d assume would be on your side. Disappointing, too, when you’ve heard these people espousing the same opinions as you – behind closed doors, of course, when it isn’t quite as awkward to do so.

So please try very very hard to not be That Guy. If you’re within earshot of a creep statement and someone challenges it, do not sit in silence beating yourself up for not being the brave one. Spartacus the shit out of this.

Say “I agree, that’s really fucked up” or “thank you. I’m glad someone said it.”

Own your mistakes

I imagine by now you’re itching to put this into practice. Before you begin, a word of warning: being difficult is great, but becoming difficult doesn’t mean you’re perfect.

I’m giving you advice but I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t always follow it. Some of these tips are ones I’ve used a lot myself, others are ones that I’ve admired and taken mental note of when I’ve heard others use them. As I say, I’m incredibly anxious and I often struggle to challenge things in the moment. For every time I’ve told someone ‘that’s not OK’, there are at least five examples of times when I didn’t. There will always be creep chat that slipped under my radar – sometimes because I didn’t notice it, but often because I was frightened to say something.

I’ve even been that friend who fails to back up my pals – or worse! Sometimes the way a friend has challenged someone feels disproportionate to me, and I get caught up in trying to work out if I should countersign a challenge that didn’t happen exactly as I’d do it, so I frown and sigh. I let them drown in the awkwardness when we could and should be surfing it together.

I’m ashamed of these moments.

And I think that shame is useful.

It’s the driving force that powers me to get better at this. It’s the reason I can confidently tell you that I’m better than I was five years ago, or ten, or twenty. If I’m struggling to summon the courage to challenge the latest creep chat (or indeed other awful chat like transphobia, racism, bigotry and bullying in general – for which this guide can also be used, of course), the shame of remembering the times that I failed is often enough to make me seize this opportunity now.

I tell you this for two reasons:

Firstly because if you challenge creep chat today, you might receive responses like ‘but you didn’t care about this yesterday!’, and I’d like you to know how to handle them without breaking down. You do that by owning your mistakes. Put your hands up, acknowledge it, and say ‘yeah, you’re right. Yesterday I was a bit of a prick/coward, and I regret that. But today’s a brand new day, and from now on I want to be clear that I won’t tolerate this kind of talk.’

Secondly, I’m owning my own mistakes because I want to emphasise that none of us is perfect. This shit is often very hard – sometimes impossible. No one’s going to be able to challenge everything in the moment. Perhaps the person who needs to be challenged is your boss, abusive parent, a police officer, or someone else who holds significant power over you. Maybe the moment isn’t right – you’re inebriated, mentally unwell, or reeling from a recent trauma that’s left you feeling empty and spent. Perhaps you just didn’t have the words or the practice or whatever it might be – you couldn’t summon the courage, you let the moment pass.

These things happen, and missed opportunities don’t mean that you should give up. Failure is an important part of the process. We try to summon the courage, and fail, then either forgive ourselves if we realise it was impossible or feel ashamed if we could have tried harder. It’s that shame which drives us to formulate a better plan for next time.

Being difficult ain’t easy.

But every single time you do it you’re adding a little grain of sand in the gears of rape culture. Every attempt to stand up against creep chat is one more straw on the camel’s back. If you didn’t manage it this time, you’ll have learned something that might help you going forward.

You do not have to do this every single time, you just have to do it more.

And then more.

The aim of the game is not to say the right thing or the perfect thing, the aim is to simply say something.

Note to men who have no interest in challenging misogyny and rape culture: you’re free to leave, please do it in silence. I am not interested in your tedious opinions, yet you always seem to pop up anyway. You clicked on this link, you consented to read. To coin a phrase: you asked for it. But this post is not for you, I don’t care to change your mind. In fact, your mind is annoying, please take it away. If you don’t believe rape culture is real, or that rape is a serious problem, return to your Joe Rogan podcasts and don’t darken my door again. I won’t weep with despair to be told that I’m ‘preaching to the choir’: this post is for the men who chose to join the choir! I’m not preaching, we’re rehearsing, and this is the song. If you don’t want to sing along, get out of the fucking chapel.