This article mentions domestic violence.
The current media storm over domestic violence and domestic homicide has plenty of sloganeering from politicians, but little in the way of depth.
Politicians — Anthony Albanese has said this repeatedly — talk about how we need to change culture. But what culture, specifically, needs to be changed, and how is that accomplished? Men, we are told and have been told for years, need to stand up and “call it out”, though what exactly this entails outside the specific circumstance of knowing someone who is a domestic violence perpetrator, is again unspecified. Politicians calling for men to stand up on violence is like fossil fuel companies talking about individuals’ “carbon footprint” — a convenient deflection by the people with the power to address a problem to those who can only act at best individually.
And the problem can be addressed. As Crikey reported last week, Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) data shows that domestic homicide and intimate partner homicide rates have more than halved since the 1980s (there was no internet in the 1980s, so that rather kyboshes claims that social media or access to online pornography somehow drives male violence).
By emphasising culture and individual responses, we risk missing the public policy actions that can have a significant effect (Nine, to its credit, published an excellent op-ed from Rosalind Dixon today in essence deriding its own calls for a royal commission and identifying what we know we can do right now). The best example is the dramatic cut in the road toll in 1983 from the introduction of random breath testing (RBT) in NSW in the wake of Victoria doing the same. The impacts of the introduction in NSW were closely examined at the time.
RBT in NSW saw an immediate cut of 23% in the road toll, or nearly 300 lives. Its impact was maximised by a massive advertising campaign essentially telling motorists they were likely to be breathalysed if they drank and drove (older readers can probably still hum the jingles from the ads) and specifying the punishments that awaited them. There was no talk of intervention or education programs for drink drivers. Critically, motorists, and not just working class motorists but every driver from the outer suburbs to Bellevue Hill and Mosman, believed that the chances of them being caught and punished had increased significantly, and began changing their behaviour.
There’d also been reforms ahead of the introduction of RBT, such as changing the offences — lowering the legal blood alcohol limit to 0.05%, making post-accident breathalysing compulsory, and lifting the penalties if caught.
We’ve done some of that work already on male violence against women — stalking has long been an offence; coercive conduct by partners has now been criminalised in some jurisdictions. But the next step is much greater and high-profile enforcement, and harsher penalties. Nothing changes behaviour more than potential offenders knowing they’re much more likely to be punished and more likely to be jailed for longer.
True, this runs against arguments about the need to keep Indigenous men and boys out of jail. But as the AIHW notes, “Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander people … were disproportionately represented in [intimate partner violence] homicide offenders (27%) and victims (27%) compared with their representation in the general population (3.2%).”
That brings us to the criminal justice system, which is still riddled with judges and lawyers who don’t take violence against women seriously. Men are routinely able to avoid conviction, or to only be convicted for manslaughter, or to blame drugs or mental health issues, or escape with light sentences, for violent and homicidal acts toward women — especially if they’re middle class men with the resources to employ better legal representation. And, as we know, men are able to obtain bail despite being charged with horrific offences.
The system of domestic violence orders (DVO) is particularly problematic. The AIHW data shows that over 40% of women killed by men were “protected” by a DVO at the time, while over 50% have had a DVO in the past (that doesn’t include cases where both parties are protected by DVOs). At this point, having a DVO is more an indicator of the risk of being murdered than an effective protection mechanism. That needs to change with a significant toughening of enforcement and punishment that makes it far harder, and far more costly, for men to breach DVOs.
A significantly more carceral approach to domestic violence needs additional police and court resources and more jail space. It also needs much greater support for domestic violence victims — social services support for women and kids, including relocation services and legal support for victims. They’re the kinds of services that governments traditionally find easy to cut in search of budget savings, oblivious in Canberra to the real-world impact on women in the community, especially regional areas and especially women from low-income backgrounds.
More perpetrators across all social classes facing a greater likelihood of punishment, more harshly, addressed a deeply embedded cultural problem of drink-driving, saving hundreds of lives a year. That’s how governments can change culture. That’s how you make men stand up, not just call for them to do it and wait for a response.
If you or someone you know is affected by sexual assault or violence, call 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732 or visit 1800RESPECT.org.au. In an emergency, call 000.
For counselling, advice and support for men in NSW, Victoria and Tasmania who have anger, relationship or parenting issues, call the Men’s Referral Service on 1300 766 491. Men in WA can contact the Men’s Domestic Violence Helpline on 1800 000 599.
