Warning: this article contains descriptions of violence and murder.
“The young man concerned was, in everybody’s estimation, an absolute delight.”
John Collier is, in everybody’s estimation, as fine a judge of young men’s characters as one could find. After all, he has for many years been entrusted with their formation, as principal of St Andrew’s Cathedral School and currently Shore School. And he knew this particular young man, Paul Thijssen, as a St Andrew’s student.
“He was not a monster; rather, in the last five hours of his life, he committed a monstrous act which was in complete contradiction to what everyone who knew him observed in the rest of his short life.”
When the predictably outraged reaction to Collier’s letter to Shore parents broke, Collier explained — through a school spokesperson — that he had only been “struggling to make sense of the seemingly senseless”. Thinking aloud, as it were.
I read Collier’s lengthy epistle in full, to better understand his insensitivity. It is titled “Looking into the face of savagery”, and its theme is that Collier’s mystification regarding Thijssen — “I knew him years ago as a fine student, a prefect, a role model” — reflects society’s incomprehension of the nature of evil.
Jesus taught, Collier says, that “the principle of evil is ubiquitous across all humanity”. The “Enlightenment Project”, in its assumption that we will improve with more education and less poverty, is a mirage; “Jesus’ analysis is much more compelling for it is sadly consistent.” Basically, we all have it within us to commit unspeakable acts, and the question isn’t why did Thijssen do it, but “why does this kind of event not occur more often”?
“What led to his mental disintegration?”, Collier asks, and he has the answer: “We will never know.” While he concludes with the importance of continuing the excellent work of Shore’s “Building Good Men” program, the context within which that sits is a mystery that we will just have to simply abide.
The secular consequence of this worldview is straightforward: we did not see Thijssen coming, because we never see them coming, because we can’t. Its corollary is equally simple: we needn’t bother looking for them, since we’ll fail anyway. It’s an interestingly defeatist attitude for an institution whose sole stated purpose for existing is to raise “good men”, albeit rationalised by the perspective that “to see the face of savagery within, we only need to hold up a mirror”. We are all, apparently, potentially men who might murder a woman.
What I find interesting is the degree of incuriosity required for a person in Collier’s position to sadly shake his head and dismiss this as one of those mysteries of life, not ours to wonder why. Bear in mind what Thijssen actually did: he acquired a murder weapon, went to where his victim Lilie James was, followed her into a bathroom, attacked her with a hammer with such violence that she couldn’t immediately be identified, then walked to his car and drove away. His subsequent suicide only underlined the moral depravity and cowardice of his choices.
For choices they were, consciously considered and made. It’s true that he wasn’t a monster, because monsters don’t exist. Nevertheless, what he chose to do, and then carried out, would at any time in human history have been considered exceptional and intolerable.
However, Thijssen decided that this method of resolving his unhappiness with his situation was a tolerable one. Somewhere along the way of his life, he learnt that it was not only possible but acceptable, not in the sense of being socially acceptable but as a viable choice.
The question we surely should be asking is where?
Collier flags two possibilities for explaining Thijssen’s acts — “a psychotic episode which was deeply out of character”, or “pornography” — but leaves it at that, since we’ll never know either way why he really ended up going with “the extreme mode of ending a relationship”.
Ah. Let’s just back up there; Thijssen, by his former teacher’s account, ended the relationship with James (by murdering her). The slip was no doubt unintentional, but very telling.
The truth is that the only thing Thijssen ended was James’ life. His belief in his entitlement (to her) came from somewhere. An obvious dotted line might be drawn within the boundaries of his education, back to a deeply rooted set of values regarding what a “good man” consists of, and that man’s relationship to the opposite sex. It’s not controversial, after all, to note the sexism inherent in Christian teaching, in particular its notion of women as possessions of men.
It’s unlikely to be that simple; we will indeed never know exactly where Thijssen learnt his corrupted understanding of the limits of humanity, and he was like all young people exposed to myriad overlapping influences.
The fact remains, however, that there is no warrant to be sourced from human history for us to accept that the horrific murder he committed is a risk that should be copped by women and girls as their lot, an occupational hazard of sharing their world with boys and men. That’s a lie, told by men to comfort themselves and each other.
Collier’s offence was not just insensitivity; it was that his supposed homily was in truth an apologia.
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.
