Cherished

This week has presented me with a choice.

Helen Haines - a woman I hadn't heard of, until a man ran her down multiple times in his ute - lost both her legs.

Most people expressed concern, but when a second Australian woman MP had some guy with nunchucks come into her office, heaps of men laughed it up on social media. A newspaper reported she'd been 'threatened' in skeptical quote marks.

Ask the type of guy who laughs and he'll explain. It's not that he disrespects women. It's just that if women want to be in politics, they need to stop whining the moment it gets tough. Ladies ask to be equal. And sometimes being equal just means taking unequal shares of abuse. If a woman doesn't like rape threats or threats against her children, maybe she should've thought of that before she ran for office. It's not all roses, darling.

Haines' tragedy was no surprise to any woman in politics, or even public life, here in Aotearoa. When one of our own is eventually seriously hurt or killed, there will be a short outpouring of thoughts and prayers and white ribbons - so long as she's a woman who deserved to be safe. The good ones do. The bad ones - the Jacinda Arderns - will continue to be protested by men who draw a hangman's noose on a shitty placard. It's not that they support violence against women: that's despicable. It's just that women who do the wrong things are different. They bring it on themselves, and you can't blame a guy for reacting.

Browsing the news today, I saw an article about a bunch of police who got busted for their group chat. They'd used it to make puerile and offensive fun of a lawyer - the sort of behaviour that would see other workers, people with everyday jobs, disciplined or sacked, but that won't happen, because these aren't Average Joes who face consequences, but people who play a pivotal part in the wellbeing of society, so the bar for their conduct is obviously lower. The police mocked the appearance of the lawyer's female partner, posting a pig meme.

You can understand it. Everyone needs a stress valve. Police deal with women all day long: family violence victims, sexual violence victims, even women politicians facing rape threats or threats to their children. Some of those women probably aren't even attractive, and you can see why the guys might need a laugh.

A few weeks ago, I went to a day-long conference about online misogyny. The conference speakers, and the venue itself, weren't released to participants until immediately beforehand. It was for security reasons. I went to session after session - horrified, but grateful for the chance to learn from and connect with others who give a damn. The whole time, the most random image kept popping into my mind.

Not long before the conference, Sam Neill had passed. The media celebrated his life, including with this one picture: Sam on his farm, in his bush shirt, sitting on a bench, feeding his pet ducks from his hand. The gentleness of it, the authenticity, the quiet courage of a man unafraid to be decent, moved me in a way that kept sticking in my throat.

The choice I took this week was to cherish good men.

Good men, I know you're there. And I know it's not easy. Maybe we make out that it is: stand up to the joke, call the behaviour out, do what's right, stride out of the room if you have to. You should, I should, we all should - but to make out it's easy underestimates the time in which we live, hate straining and snarling at the leash to attack. It takes courage to resist, and courage isn't always easy to summon.

But good men are cherished. I can't promise you it will be today or tomorrow - that's not how this shit works - but one day, maybe, by your kids and your grandkids and perhaps even history.

Good men are cherished and always will be.

The rest of you men: step the fuck up.