Faced with ploughing through another pile of crime books depicting graphic violence against women, novelist Adam LeBor was prompted recently to wonder whether this fetishisation of brutality actually encouraged misogyny.
here’s certainly something unsettling about the relish with which many writers exploit women’s worst nightmares as a sick entertainment. What’s interesting is that it’s women who make up the majority of readers of stories in which female characters are stalked, raped, murdered.
One reason often given for this is that it allows women to explore the fear of violence that pervades their lives. It’s a coping mechanism in a world that treats them, as one female writer describes it with shocking vividness, as “meat puppets”.
At first glance, that sounds facile and awfully convenient; but there’s no doubt the interest in real life crimes — as shown by coverage of the ongoing search of woods in Co Kildare for the body of missing 18-year-old Deirdre Jacob, who disappeared on July 28, 1998 while walking to her family home near Newbridge — comes from somewhere deeper than mere fascination with an unsolved mystery.
While a number of other women in the area also disappeared around that time, it’s worth reiterating that Ireland remains a safe country for women, with a rate of homicide significantly behind most European countries. The risk in Ireland is similar to that in Japan, one of the least violent countries in the world.
But statistics are of little comfort if it’s you or your loved ones who fall through the cracks between them. It’s about how women feel every day.
Disturbingly, a recent study found more than 93pc of women in Ireland feel unsafe when out and about.
More than half said they wouldn’t use public transport after dark or late at night — and 34pc said this fear occasionally stopped them from going out at all. Three-quarters of women said they walk faster at night. Half change routes even if it means walking longer distances to feel safe. More than a third have experienced harassment in public places.
Men may be statistically more likely to fall victim to street violence, but they don’t feel the fear in the same way, and it’s this fear that’s socially and psychologically damaging.
Women have been schooled to pick up a million different kinds of alarm at what men can do to them. Not strangers, usually. That remains an astonishingly rare crime. Most violence against women is perpetrated by current or former male partners.
While women know, intellectually, that their trepidation when on the street may be out of proportion to the actual risk, the fear persists. Partly it’s down to pure biology. Men are generally stronger than women.
Cultural and media narratives of danger also prey on women’s minds, even if they’re only intended to equip them with strategies should they find themselves unwittingly in harm’s way.
Mostly, though, it’s because women know deep down that a time might come when there’s nothing they can do to save themselves.
Deirdre Jacob had only a mile to walk home that day. It was a midweek afternoon, not dark. She was seen by people she knew along the route. Gardaí believe she even reached her gate.
If something so terrible can befall a young woman in such ordinary circumstances, women know it can happen to them too. The abduction of 24-year-old Jastine Valdez in Enniskerry, Co Wicklow, and her subsequent murder, added new layers of horror to the dark scenarios that play out in women’s imaginations in what should otherwise seem like innocent situations. She was close to her home too.
It’s also one reason why there were protests in Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Limerick over the murder of Sarah Everard in London earlier this year.
Her abduction by a serving police officer happened in another country, but women everywhere can imagine being in Sarah’s place, walking home at night. We’ve all done it. The slogan “Me Too” chimes in that way with so many aspects of women’s lives.
What can be done to reassure women that something is being done to ease their dread?
Protesters at the time of Sarah Everard’s murder wanted to know that sexual harassment was being taken more seriously.
There’s always an escalation with men like that. Her killer had come on the radar of the police previously for lesser offences. He could have been stopped before any woman lost her life. Police need to respond to these red flags.
The worldwide “Girls’ Safety In Cities” study carried out a couple of years ago made other suggestions too, one of which was to give girls and young women more opportunity to participate in decision-making around what is needed to make them feel safer.
More than half of those consulted in Dublin felt girls and young women were “never” or “hardly ever” included in decision-making.
Possible measures being sought ranged from “appropriate lighting at night” to tailor-made “public facilities and truly public spaces with good visibility”. Cities were not designed with women in mind and are often more suited to cars than people. More open, rather than enclosed, public spaces help boost a sense of security.
Obviously, older cities can’t change overnight, but it’s something to bear in mind when designing new facilities. Making streets more usable for families and older people also makes them less threatening for women.
One Irish expert consulted for the same report observed: “There needs to be a culture change so girls/women feel comfortable reporting incidents of harassment and violence and feel confident that their reports will have consequences.”
That might seem so self-evident as to not be worth stating, but one thing that didn’t get enough attention after the Policing Authority meeting with the Garda Commissioner in June was the revelation that the guards were falling far short when it came to answering emergency calls.
The guards can’t be everywhere, and there will always be cases, such as the disappearance of Deirdre Jacob, where women fall victim to evil, predatory men who have evaded detection.
But to not even have the reassurance of knowing that the guards will be close at hand in moments of crisis when you call 999 is, for women, the most terrifying scenario of all.