Ending Unplanned

Awkward party conversations that set off my sexism alarm

Fri, 16 Nov 2012 22:32:00 -0500

Awkward turtle.

These days, having grown up after women’s rights became a thing, most people have a sexism alarm. Many will call each other out on sexist behaviour, if only in jest. Of course, sometimes there were problems with the alarm’s installation or it got broken somewhere along the way (I check mine every daylight savings, just to be safe). This leads to theories about life and the world that don’t quite match up to reality, and when you add beer and party mayhem, it all comes out.

The “rape is good for the human race” theory

Once, a guy I had seen “around” but never actually spoken to came up to me at a party and said he thought rape ought to be supported by evolution. I mean, I think he said hello first, but it was abrupt nonetheless.

His reasoning was this: he believed if men weren’t “prevented” from having sex by the pesky matter of requiring women’s consent, men would have a lot more sex, and therefore make more babies, some of whom would also grow up to be hideous rapists who would in turn make more babies and so pass on more genes. (Obviously this wasn’t what Darwin had in mind. At least the guy didn’t think women’s reproductive organs shut down if they were “legitimately raped”.)

I probably don’t need to explain why this conversation was awkward, but just in case: it’s generally not polite to approach a member of a group, particularly a disadvantaged group, and say that oppression and violent treatment of that group would be a good idea, you know, scientifically speaking.

At the time I didn’t feel threatened – I just pointed out that rape has a tendency to actually ruin people’s lives, and having a bunch of stressed out pregnant women running around (while the fathers are, presumably, off having more sex, because 1. That makes more babies and 2. Who wants to raise a child with someone who completely disregarded that you are, in fact, a person?) would most likely not be conducive to healthy, well-cared-for offspring. But in hindsight, it was a pretty threatening thing to say. He was kind of saying, “Hey! Wouldn’t it make more sense if I could just rape you?” Awkward. Also, border-line illegal.

The “sex is sex (if you’re a man)” theory

Another guy started bragging to a group of people, me included, about sleeping with a woman who he thought was unattractive. Bragging. As in “I had sex with one of those female things! An ugly one! Points for me!” Okay, those may not have been his exact words. But he did call her ugly and desperate.

“Isn’t it desperate to have sex with someone you aren’t attracted to?” I asked. He replied, and I am quoting him directly, “Not really. At least I had sex” (odd, since so did she). Not yet satisfied with the awkwardness level, I asked, “But why couldn’t you find someone you actually liked to have sex with?” Then I felt kind of bad because he sort of just shrugged, muttered something about how “sex is sex” (which is harder to argue with, since sex IS, undoubtedly, sex. That’s a watertight thesis right there), and then moved away.

It’s not just the double-standard thing that gets me; it’s also that it doesn’t make any sense. Yes, it sucks that, socially speaking, it’s more acceptable for men to have sex than for women. But the really strange part of his reasoning was that he was trying to derive status from having sex with someone who he thought wasn’t good enough for him. It’s illogical. The stereotype equivalent for a woman would be if she said “I got some guy to agree to date me exclusively. He doesn’t have any money or social standing and I don’t respect him at all, but hey, a relationship is a relationship. He’s another stitch in my apron.” Ridiculous.

The “all men are jerks” theory

Sometimes, when a bunch of women are in the same room, they start talking about what is wrong with the male population. I talked to one woman who truly believed that there is not one man who wouldn’t cheat on his partner if given the opportunity. That is, she believed the best you could get in the male loyalty department was a guy who wouldn’t actually go looking for an affair.

These conversations have always made me deeply uncomfortable, whether the topic is “all men cheat” or “all men are liars”. Besides defying statistical probability, these kind of statements ignore something important: women do these things, too.

Thinking that women are morally superior to men is sexist. It is also untrue. For instance, while plenty of studies have found men to be more likely than women to cheat on their partner, the rates have become more similar as women have become more independent, with jobs outside the home and money of their own. My point is not that women are deceitful, but that men and women are not so different. It follows that, just as there are women who wouldn’t cheat on their partner even if they were locked in a room for a week with a shirtless model billionaire who spoke seven languages and helped underprivileged children on weekends, there are also men who think that cheating is so wrong that they just wouldn’t do it.

Gay marriage: Garth George asks “why?”

Wed, 22 Aug 2012 04:58:00 -0400

At first I was hesitant to respond to Garth George’s article asking why gay couples want to be able to marry. Sometimes his columns are so extreme and inflammatory that I’m not sure he could actually genuinely hold those beliefs. And by “sometimes”, I mean “always”. But he did ask a question, and perhaps, as he says, he really doesn’t understand, so here goes.

Garth’s central thesis is that marriage is between a man and a woman because they can have children naturally. Marriage, he says, consists of “men and women who cleave to one another to, among other things, have children and to bring them up in a traditional family environment”. But some married couples don’t actually want children. And whether they do or don’t want little ones, most couples use contraception most of the time they engage in the “baby making” process. I find it difficult to accept that marriage is about children when many couples spend the majority of their marriage trying not to have children. And of course, plenty of straight couples can’t have children. Should post-menopausal women have the right to marry? What about couples where one or both of them is infertile because they had a quiet infection that slowly destroyed their baby-making equipment? (The disease occurred “naturally”, after all.) What if someone were born without the ability to have children by some biological anomaly? Suggesting people shouldn’t get married if “by nature” they can’t have kids together is alarmingly similar to suggesting women’s “natural” place is at home raising children, because kids do a fair amount of growing inside them.

Another point of confusion for Garth is that gay couples didn’t all rush to get civil-unioned once it was legally possible. “Not many have bothered to regularise their relationships,” he says. “So, again, why set out after same-sex “marriage”?” I think I can help Garth out on that one. First, plenty of people want rights that they don’t want to exercise. For instance, as a woman, I want the right to join the army. I don’t actually want to do it, but I want the option because otherwise it sends a strong message that society doesn’t think I’m equal to men. But nobody thinks that women should rush to join the army, just because they legally can, if they want any further complaints about discrimination to be taken seriously.

Second, civil unions were better than nothing, but that’s not really what was, and is, being asked for. What is being asked for is equal treatment under the law, and gay people don’t have that yet. Garth, if you asked Santa Claus for an electric moustache trimmer and every non-homophobic man with a moustache got an electric one but Santa only gave you a hand-operated one JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE HOMOPHOBIC, wouldn’t that seem wrong? (Garth also seems confused about what homophobia means, suggesting it is actually having a phobia, or intense fear, of gay people. I suppose that would count, too, but being prejudiced towards homosexual people is the actual definition, which Garth’s article quite clearly is – such as in his odd statement that “The original meaning of gay was light-hearted and carefree, yet no homosexual I’ve ever met could be so described”. They’re not all the same, Garth, and have you ruled out the possibility that they are less likely to appear light-hearted when interacting with someone who thinks they are just doing it wrong when it comes to life?)

But Garth asked why the law should treat gay people equally to straight people. I can think of a reason that, based on his article, I don’t think he’s considered. Let’s start with statistics showing that gay people are more likely to have depression and harm themselves than their straight peers. It would be difficult to argue that this is inherent – say, that being gay somehow makes you genetically inclined towards depression (naturally!). Rather it seems obvious that the higher rate of depression and self-harm in this group is due to being discriminated against. It’s not that all, or even most, gay people are depressed – far from it – but discrimination is still something they have to deal with throughout their lives. Now, plenty deal with it just fine, but that’s not the point. The point is they shouldn’t have to.

So why should gay people have the right to marry?

Because gay couples can’t walk down the street holding hands or kiss their partner in public without getting funny looks. Because they have something essential to who they are that they have to justify to others and “confess” to their friends and family. Because being treated as different and inferior wears people down over time. Because not being able to marry is a symptom of a social problem that grows negative feelings like cancer. Because they’re people. Because IT’S THE VERY LEAST WE CAN DO.

After a long history of society treating gay people as criminals, disease carriers, and second-class citizens, I don’t think that as a society we should be debating whether they should have the same rights as straight people. I think we should be apologising. You know, “sorry we criticized and ostracised you for just being who you are, and harmed your collective mental and physical health. Please accept these marriage rights”. That might be a start.

Beauty and the feminist

Mon, 20 Aug 2012 04:43:00 -0400

When I was younger I sometimes worried that I was “too feminine”. You know, too … girly. At the time, this didn’t seem like a good way to be. Really feminine women seemed to be those who laughed like chipmunks, wore lots of pink, and became over-excited in the presence of kittens – the ones who were perhaps well liked, but not taken very seriously. Women who were taken seriously, at least professionally – say, Helen Clark, or my high school Biology teacher who everyone was scared of – didn’t do these things. They wore sensible clothes and cut their hair pretty short. They did not giggle. It was difficult to imagine them wearing either an apron, or a mini skirt. They were in leadership positions, and they seemed to have a better deal when it came to women’s rights.

For a while, I compensated for my girly appearance (I had long hair, and, um, was a girl) by wearing black nail polish and smiling less. The problem was, I didn’t like black nail polish. To me it looked as if I had some kind of advanced gangrene and was in the process of becoming fingerless. And not smiling didn’t make people think I was a candidate for world domination, it made them ask if I was all right, and did I want to talk about it. So, my semi-goth, anti-girl-stuff phase didn’t last very long. But ultimately, although I didn’t think of it like this at the time on account of being 13, I felt like I had to choose between being a) feminine, or b) a feminist – as if they’re opposing things.

The confusing part was that the label “feminist” has become some kind of antonym for “attractive”, as if being a feminist necessarily means you wear misshapen beige suits with oversized shoulder pads and shout aggressively when someone holds a door open for you. And you hate men. And you’re probably covered in scales. And you’re never going to get laid, let alone live happily ever after. The feminist stereotype is not seen as particularly attractive, physically or otherwise.

It’s not surprising, then, that most women don’t describe themselves as feminists. Public Opinion Quarterly found in 2000 that “just over a third of men and women think feminists dislike men, and just under 50 per cent think feminists do not respect women who stay at home with their children” – something Kiwi women are also aware of according to the New Zealand Herald: “There’s this idea that they’re all very angry women with hairy legs,” says one. And another: “The word ‘feminism’ is not a popular word. Usually if I talk to a young woman and I say ‘are you a feminist?’ at first her response will be: ‘God, no.’”

I recently heard a woman say, “I believe in women’s rights. But I’m not a feminist”. It was as if she’d just said, “I’m a HUMAN, but not a PERSON”. I know what she meant, though. She meant, “I want to be able to choose stuff and not be my husband’s sex slave, babysitter, and cleaner by default – but I still want to be attractive.” Considering women are raised on a steady diet of fairytales, Disney princesses and celebrities to believe that being what society considers attractive is the key to happiness (or at least attention), ugly feminist stereotypes are some pretty powerful motivation to not call yourself a feminist. So when trying to be as attractive as possible (having the right clothes, makeup, an expensive haircut and full-body wax), it’s not surprising that some women add “not a feminist” to the list.

Feminism, of course, is actually just believing that men and women should be equal and have the same rights. Cutting your hair off or wearing baggy pants are not requirements, unless you’re a woman who actually likes and wants to do those things. You also don’t have to wear tiny clothes or remove all traces of body hair, if you’d rather not. (Women are taught this is what men want. I agree with Caitlin Moran when she says most men won’t really care – they’re not one-dimensional animals. And seriously, if a guy actually tells his girlfriend to wear something tighter and shorter, or get a Brazilian, I think something is very wrong. With him. And I don’t think women should offer unsolicited advice on appearance, either.) Feminism also doesn’t involve hating men. Men can be – and are – feminists, too. Feminism is just a warm and fuzzy club of people who won’t exploit you because you have breasts, or rate those breasts out of 10 when you leave the room. And I hear they’re taking more members.

Question time: On changing your name when you marry

Tue, 07 Aug 2012 04:01:00 -0400

It’s an exciting moment for any blogger: the first “question from a reader”. And what a question! She writes:

“Hi Briar. What are your thoughts on changing your name when you get married?”

- Zena Warrior-Princess*

*Not her real name

Names are important. As Elton John and Lady Gaga well know, it’s easier to make it in life if you have a title to match. Names that top google search lists are in high demand, and people with easily pronounced surnames are more likely to have high-status jobs.

When you think about it, asking a woman to change her name when she ties the knot is a big deal. On a practical level, it’s harder to change your name than to keep it the same. It costs money, you have to notify a whole heap of organisations, you have to get used to the new name and probably spend the first few months writing your old one down on forms accidentally. If you’ve built a career around your name, like if you have a public profile or a bunch of well-respected articles attributed to you, there may be a lot at stake.

Plenty of women, though, change their surname when they marry. Most men, on the other hand, expect to keep their last name for their entire life (except P. Diddy and Snoop Lion, who change their names like someone wore them out). I suppose it’s archaic in the sense that, in the past, the main reason for a woman to do this was that she no longer “belonged” to her parents, and now “belonged” to her husband – and had better fetch his slippers and please him with baked goods.

Names are such a personal thing that I really don’t think there can be a blanket rule (though, if your last name really is Warrior-Princess, I’m fairly sure changing it will improve your life). There are too many variables. For instance, what if my future husband’s surname was Friar? Or Tuck? No, no, no. On the other hand, if he had a super-awesome last name that totally suited my first name and would make for a cool signature, I might be into it. I also like the idea of a hyphenated version, especially if the guy changed his name to that, too: equal effort and sacrifice seem like a nice way to start a marriage. But some names just don’t go together, and no one should have to downgrade. I definitely don’t think women who opt to change are anti-feminist Stepford wives. Changing and keeping your name are both legitimate choices.

What would bother me is a guy who expected me to take his name, or refused to talk about possible hyphenated options (I think throwing potential names around would be a fun two-player game, and his enthusiastic participation would bode well for other two-player games, like Twenty Questions or Monogamy). It’s a respect thing, really. Partners should respect each other’s right to choose. Your name is probably something you’ve had all your life. That’s plenty of time to get attached to it.

I have a married friend who said that, when she thought about taking her then-fiancé’s name, she felt something like, “Ahhh, yes, that’s what I’m meant to be called”. That’s what I think it should be like. So if the status quo seems more like you than a possible future option, maybe it’s better to keep it as it is. And if it’s all too hard, you could always try prefixing your name with “Queen”, like Queen Elizabeth or Queen Latifah. No one asks for your last name when you’re a Queen.

Don't call me baby

Tue, 31 Jul 2012 16:41:00 -0400

When Maggie Barry called Jacinda Ardern “petal” and told her to stop being precious, I face-palmed pretty hard. It wasn’t so much the topic (paid parental leave, which Barry said Ardern had no business commenting on as she isn’t a parent. Guess all straight and single politicians should duck out of the same-sex marriage debate that’s coming up, then). No, it was Barry’s word choice.

It’s pretty safe to say that Barry wouldn’t have chosen the word “petal” had Ardern been a man. Can you imagine someone calling Winston Peters, John Key or David Shearer “petal”? They probably wouldn’t bother; the insult would bounce off because it doesn’t make sense. Names like “petal” imply the receiver is small, sweet, fragile – a stereotypical little girl. Try to pin this on most men and they’d probably just be confused. This is because men aren’t stereotypically associated with being small, sweet, or fragile, so it’s about as effective as accusing him of being twelve feet tall – no-one thinks it’s true anyway, so he doesn’t need to defend himself. (Unless you’re trying to insult him by feminising him, like calling him a sissy. But then, the only reason that’s supposed to be insulting is that being female is associated with being small and weak.)

Calling a woman “petal” is an easy insult, especially if she’s on the young side like Ardern. It requires little thought or wit to play off the stereotype that women are feeble little things. It can even be effective. But every time it happens, a puppy dies. Or, a stupid stereotype is reinforced. I can’t remember which.

This is the same reason why when I’m called “sweetheart” by people I’ve just met, I want to hurl a pen at them. Occasionally I meet someone who pulls it off quite gracefully, but these are the people that call everyone – men and women – some vague pet name that implies familiarity without them actually having to remember names. (I imagine it’s useful if you work in, say, sales, where you have to be friendly to everyone no matter how friendly they are to you or how many racist jokes they crack). But people who reserve these names for women make me feel icky. Kind of like they just patted me on the head and said, “Oh! It speaks!” They just met me; they have no idea if I’m sweet at all. They just assume I am, because I have breasts. But some women aren’t sweet. Some women lie and steal and drive up empty side lanes in their cars so they can overtake a row of patient drivers at a red light. Some women consider hurling pens at strangers.

Being nice and being weak are different things. But names like “sweetheart” tend to come across as patronising when your entire gender is stereotyped as nice, and also happens to get paid less on average (coincidence? hmmm).

Maggie Barry knew all this, of course. She used the name “petal” to imply Ardern was weak, and the words “don’t be so precious” to imply she was emotionally volatile – because while Jacinda can hold her own in Parliament just fine, and while she wasn’t over-reacting at all, she’s a woman, and hey, if the stereotype-shoe fits…

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that words mean things. Calling a woman “petal” sounds like a little thing, but it’s a symptom of one of the biggest problems in the world: sexism. I know they’re politicians, and they need to throw around a few insults. That’s cool. This probably wouldn’t fly with Lockwood Smith, but I’d rather Barry kept it above board and just called Ardern an asshole. At least it’s gender neutral.

Study finds men prefer brunettes. Bleach sales plummet. World ends.

Tue, 10 Jan 2012 04:16:00 -0500

Someone, somewhere, has surely done a study on what hair colour women prefer on men, but I’ve never heard of it. So I asked Google, knower of all things. But it just shrugged, decided I must be confused, and offered a bunch of suggestions about what hair colour men like on women instead. (So I typed in “I don’t care” and had a Fall Out Boy renaissance.)

But if there weren’t enough studies like this out there for Google to spurt out, there’s now…well, another one. Breaking news on msn.co.nz: Men prefer brunettes over blondes (the original study is here). Well, phew. I just saved a whoooole lotta money on bleach, then. Thanks for telling me.

The problem (okay, one of the problems) is that it assumes women are just kind of…there to be looked at. Like life is a competition for male attention and the prettiest girl wins. And, if you have the right hair colour (or eye colour, or body type) you’ll be one step closer to happiness because men will like you and want to date you and build picket fences with you. Well, for you, probably. And why are similar studies about men’s hair colour hard to find? Why am I even asking a question that’s not Googleable? It’s not even a thing.

Whatever. Here’s a video of a cat playing piano.

The hotness pageant

Fri, 30 Dec 2011 04:24:00 -0500

Quick: picture a beauty pageant contestant. Your picture might involve blonde hair, tanned skin and a perky smile. But most crucially, your picture almost certainly is of a woman. Why? Probably because male beauty competitions don’t really exist (the most similar event for men that I can think of is bodybuilding, and even that falls more into the sporting category). And, while many women will never enter an organised beauty pageant, they will inevitably be entered into another pageant - the pageant of life - where they will be rated according to their appearance and general sexiness. The judges? Men.

I had a conversation with a guy recently who emphatically declared that every (straight) man mentally, if not verbally, ranks the women around him in terms of hotness, everywhere he goes. (The temptation to put inverted commas around the word hotness is great, but I’m worried it’ll open up the politically correct punctuation floodgates.) Any guy, he said, who claims he doesn’t have this “would I or wouldn’t I like to sleep with these women, and in what order” list, is lying. (Of course, what he really meant was that he has this list, and has managed to get a few similarly minded buddies to participate.)

There’s no question that looks count for something when it comes to attraction. Most men (and women) will notice what people look like, and favour certain physical characteristics. But the term “hot” (there go the inverted commas) has a definite sexual element to it. The hot-or-not judgement is not just about rating someone’s looks, it’s about whether you’d like to roll around naked with them. Inappropriate contexts aside, there’s nothing wrong with that. But the idea that every man I encounter (Really? Even my friends’ dads or my lecturers at uni? All of them?) enters me into a mental hotness pageant, ranking me against any other females present, is pretty gross.

To be clear, I don’t believe this is true of all men for a second. At the very least, almost any statement starting with “all men” or “all women” makes the Statistical Gods weep sad, sad tears of logic. But apparently some guys do think this way, with Hot List Boy being exhibit A.

Blame it on society, celebrities, the media. Boys learn what is hot (and that hotness is important) from a young age. Girls grow up with their own matching set of messages about what they should look like and how men should act towards them, so that in a weird sort of way, winning the hotness pageant is almost flattering. After all, women are socialised to use their looks and sexuality to compete for male attention. Take women’s magazines, which inevitably have headings like “Be the hottest girl at the party” and “Be the best sex he’s ever had” (unfortunately, I didn’t make up those morsels of literary genius), or the unquantifiably large amount of advertising telling women what purchases will make them loveable, and telling men what women should look like.

And sure, there are ways for women to be attractive to a large number of men. Certain body types, hairstyles and clothing will undoubtedly attract male attention in bulk. But more importantly, who cares? Participate in the hotness pageant and all you really stand to gain is some superficial and probably temporary admiration. Why? Because ultimately, most people are more interested in getting to know someone who does cool things than a girl with perfect hair or a flawless figure. That’s not to say women can’t be cool and hot – just that one has more lasting benefits than the other.

RIP state assets. New plan: Meat

Sat, 26 Nov 2011 22:41:00 -0500

Majorly depressed today. It’s not even that National won the election (hardly surprising). It’s that so many people just opted out of voting altogether. It’s that John Key’s odd endorsement of the Act party actually worked. It’s that I can no longer count on both hands the number of people I heard saying something along the lines of, “Oh, I don’t even care about politics, I just voted for John Key coz he seems nice, amirite? Lol!” (Hey, at least they voted.)

But you know what would make me feel better? Turkey. Or perhaps a bacon-wrapped turkey stuffed with a chicken that’s stuffed with another turkey that’s got stuffing in it. Bacon stuffing. I’ve never been to America, but I imagine Thanksgiving celebrations, with their large quantity of food and gratefulness, make everything better – not to mention the holiday fell just before the New Zealand election. So instead of writing about how much I wanted to keep our shiny state assets (and so on, and so forth), I’m going to write in the spirit of Thanksgiving in the hope that listing what I’m thankful for in this election will somehow manifest an abundance of delicious meat.

I’m thankful Phil Goff needn’t continue to be sacrificed at the parliamentary shrine.
I’m thankful that Winston’s unlikely prophesy that he would be back in Parliament came true. Now he can predict future natural disasters and rugby match outcomes for us. Thanks, Winston.
I’m thankful Colin Craig only managed to buy 2.8 per cent of votes after throwing his money at billboards and advertising for the Conservative Party. It’s nice to know that it takes more than money to get into Parliament – maybe next time he could try yelling about controversial topics like Winston does, or having tea with Dan Carter.
I’m thankful Don Brash has been once again voted off the island, even if the person now breathing life into Act (besides Key, of course) is John Banks - yet another former Nat who turned out to be not so close to the centre.
I’m thankful that New Zealand’s political term is only three years.
I’m thankful the Greens kicked party-vote ass. The only question I have now is whether they’d consider an alliance with a left-wing meat party. All free-range. All delicious. Yeah, that’ll be the slogan.

Act in won't-sell-your-assets clothing

Tue, 08 Nov 2011 04:29:00 -0500

I’m thinking of launching the Technology Party. The key policy would be to improve laws, democracy, and the parliamentary process using modern-day wizardry. Or basically, to keep up with the times.

Because what we really need is a “public anger” app on our mobiles, linked directly to a large, ominous-sounding bell in Parliament. If enough people dislike something, they punch in the right keyword, and the bell goes dong.

Democracy at its best.

Would this party be left or right, you ask? Pffft. The Technology Party has moved past these political leanings and the new way is “up”. Left and right is so 2005 - we fly above it. Like the Jetsons.

If you know anything about Colin Craig, the leader of the new political kids on the block, you’ll know he stands on the right.

But if it wasn’t for Colin naming his party the “Conservative Party”, I’d say he’s trying to keep one foot safely in the centre.

His own views on things like abortion, or marriage being “between a man and a woman”, were kindly described as “traditionalist” by 3News (but might be better labelled “backward”).

But wait – actually, that’s just Colin Craig’s personal views. It has nothing to do with the party (he just, you know, leads it, and funds their every move). He doesn’t think discussion about those things is “beneficial”. And it probably wouldn’t be beneficial for Colin, because it would ruin the “play it safe” strategy he’s got going on.

Take the party’s policies on its website, which are a list of political euphemisms and statements that no sane person, right or left, would ever disagree with – “You want your family to be safe”, “You want to worry less about money”, “You want happy families where parents are empowered to raise their children in a loving environment”.

Well, sure. But actually, what I really want is to know how they plan to get those things.

The Conservative Party, with its shiny, three-month-old new-ness, is certainly making the most of the honeymoon. Right-wingers scrambling for choice after Act spontaneously combusted (or just those who hate everything else on offer) have another option. And enough people are considering it for the Conservatives to feature in the polls.

But, really. It’s a right-wing party that’s polling at around one per cent, led by a well-off white man. Could this be the reincarnation of Act? Well, almost. It’s Act in won’t-sell-your-assets clothing.

They’ve chosen a few things that rubbed the majority the wrong way – asset sales, the anti-smacking legislation, the Emissions Trading Scheme – and said “Hey look! We hate those things, too! We understand you!” and then slipped the odd far-right statement in there (like that New Zealand should return to a single voter role – sounds an awful lot like Don Brash’s “We are all New Zealanders” speech to me).

The Conservative Party says it will govern with anyone, right or left. But one per cent beggars can’t be choosers, and despite opposing asset sales, it’s clear the party’s loyalty lies on the right.

So nod hello to the new Act. Because the newcomers are nothing new.

That’s it – I’m voting for Winston

Mon, 31 Oct 2011 05:04:00 -0400

Politics used to be fun in New Zealand. From Helen Clark’s shoulder pads to Rodney Hide’s yellow blazer, party leaders used to have that element of delicious ridiculousness. Election debates, with all the parties tossed together to talk over each other and ignore the host, used to be popcorn-worthy.

But the opening election debate tonight was despicably civil. Besides John Key calling Phil Goff a “drunken sailor”, it was really just two guys in suits having a conversation that would have sat well at a dinner party. It was full of gentle, albeit cold, remarks of “no, let me finish”, or “you had your turn, now it’s mine” when the other interrupted.

Key was so relaxed he almost looked bored.

It was Helen Clark’s fault, really. She opted to only debate with the opposition leader (Mr Key himself) in 2008. John was always going to follow suit when he became Prime Minister. Not to do so would have lumped him in with the little guys, and it’s clearly in his favour to be pitted against Goff, who has never been in danger of denting Key’s popularity.

Helen had her reasons for locking out the minor parties. More time to talk policy, less people to talk over or put in their place.

But what about the fun, Helen? What about the fun?

The colourful leaders in the Beehive are being stripped of their wings. Rodney Hide was rolled, for reasons so vast they really deserve their own blog post. Green Party ~~activist~~ co-leader Jeanette Fitzsimons resigned, leaving precious few MPs willing to dress as Ronald McDonald and chain themselves to a fence. Hone Harawira was almost pushed out, clinging on by the skin of his by-election teeth.

But the saddest loss from the Parliament lol-fest was surely Winston Peters. He was everything you could want from a minor party leader. He yelled. He heckled. He mixed ridiculous policies with equal measures of criticism and wit. Winston was never going to reach the top of the Beehive, but he at least made it fun.

Let’s all abandon the major parties and their cruise to the land of the dull. Let’s swim out to the NZ First shipwreck and rescue Winston. At first he’ll shout that he doesn’t need recuing, that he’ll clamber back to Parliament on his own. As we paddle back to shore, he’ll argue that we’re going the wrong way. But bring back Winston, and we’ll have a debate worth watching.

So vote Winston. Vote fun.

It might not change the country, but at least we’ll have something to lol about.

The retirement debate

Sat, 29 Oct 2011 22:05:43 -0400

It’s little wonder National wanted an MMP referendum. From the look of the election polls, First Past the Post would see them first past the democracy and straight to dictatorship town (do not pass go, do not collect tax from the rich).

Even under the current system, of course, National might be able to govern alone.

Though if Labour’s recent efforts win enough votes to dip National under the 50 per cent mark, it should make for some MMP-fuelled lols. John Key has written off NZ First even if Winston does do the impossible. Act has long been divided and conquered, and anyway, Don Brash was unpopular even when he was pretending to be centre-right. The Greens - the left-wing lifeboat for voters jumping the Labour ship - are doing well, but that’s hardly a match made in policy heaven. Hone Harawira is probably too much of a loose cannon for anyone’s taste. Back to the Maori Party then, possibly, or United Future’s one-man National cheer squad.

But Labour has delivered what National doesn’t seem to have counted on: an economic policy that actually makes sense. Lifting the retirement age is bound to happen, voters know it, and Labour is addressing it. No longer can Finance Minister Bill English claim Camp Goff are ignoring the facts and simply planning to borrow and hope for the best. Economically, Labour stands for something.

Worse for National, even Labour’s policy errs on the side of throwing money at retirement. As Winston Peters has pointed out to every reporter within shouting distance, Labour’s policy doesn’t go far enough. It doesn’t change anything now; it just plans to do so, far enough down the track that it almost seems irrelevant. But for a historically unpopular policy, that makes sense: it brings Labour considerably closer to facing reality than National, but next to Winston they still look stable and sensible. A good bet in an economic crisis, perhaps.

John Key promised to resign if he raises the Superannuation age (you know, like he promised he wouldn’t raise GST). The problem is, it’s a promise easily trampled by facts: at the moment, Superannuation costs about 4 per cent of GDP, but this will double within 20 years. Currently, the figures don’t add up. And the ageing population certainly will.

National is launching its campaign today, and it had better be good. Suddenly the retirement age is the election issue of the moment, and all National has done is cry “Return to surplus! Return to surplus!” – but Labour claims it can do that too, just as quickly, and without putting Kiwi assets up for adoption.

But Labour’s problem was never its policies. Labour’s problem was Goff. It’s not for any particular reason. He’s done nothing wrong. Nobody can say he’s untrustworthy or unreliable, incoherent or unintelligent. He’s just a bit flat.

What Labour has lacked is someone to make John Key look like he did sitting next to Obama – small and nervous, with trousers not long enough to cover those ridiculous pulled-up socks. John’s weird three-way handshake with Richie McCaw and IRB chairman Bernard Lapasset (oddly pulled from Youtube by the IRB for copyright – really? – reasons) might have helped, but it’s far from checkmate.

But there’s a reason Phil Goff was chosen to lead Labour. Sure, he’s no Helen Clark – in the 2005 election debates, she tripped Don Brash up and stomped him into the floor, whereas Phil would have politely set him on the ground and helped him up again. But Goff is good with words, and he is consistent (even if no-one actually remembers what he said).

As for the Prime Minister, he’s a bit hit-or-miss in the coherency stakes. If someone drops a tricky question like Stephen Sackur did on BBC’s Hardtalk, or mentions the words “standard” and “poor’s” in the same sentence, it might turn John back into an “I wasn’t at the meeting” broken record. When Goff and Key go head-to-head in the election debates, things might start to look a little different.

What if the All Blacks had lost the World Cup?

Mon, 24 Oct 2011 02:31:00 -0400

Last night, Auckland was another place. The All Blacks had won the Cup (only just, but hey, winning is winning), and Queen Street was wall-to-wall with screaming, yelling, grinning faces descending on the Viaduct.

Sections of the mob sang the national anthem, or shouted no-longer-needed words of encouragement to the winning team. People climbed onto the roofs of shops and bus stops to yell similar sentiments. Fireworks were set off on the pavement, sparking hurried, giggling holes in the crowd. Strangers hugged and high-fived each other. No-one stood still. Signs saying Party Central was full – irritating only 80 minutes earlier – became laughable: the party was everywhere. Graham Henry himself could not have contained it.

It has been speculated that, had the All Blacks lost, there would have been riots, violence and mobs of angry black flags. But just like many New Zealanders were too cool for the World Cup build up, I suggest a French win on Auckland turf would have simply fallen flat.

Besides those at party central, who had queued far too long to face going home before midnight, the CBD’s population would have dropped to Tuesday-night numbers in 10 minutes flat. Most Kiwis would have gone home to post drunken tweets about who or what was to blame; that kick, that forward pass, that call by the ref. Others would have shrugged, insisted they cared more about the election, anyway, and escaped to cry in private. Those planning to join the party after the game would have stayed in to sulk over a beer.

The twenty-odd French supporters in the country would have been in good spirits, and would have taken a quick stroll up Queen Street together before sipping on a smug glass of champagne.

A couple of All Blacks fans would have yelled abuse at those dressed in blue and attempted to break into JB HI-FI, only to be outnumbered by bored police officers.

Riots in Auckland after losing to France? Nah. Kiwis wouldn’t have given them the satisfaction.

Gay Adoption: Hell Yeah

Sat, 15 Oct 2011 23:09:00 -0400

In 1955 in New Zealand, the death penalty was legal and homosexuality was not. This was the context from which the Adoption Act was born. The Act was amended earlier this year, but for same-sex couples it’s still the same deal: straight couples can adopt, as can single people. But same-sex partners? No dice. The resulting irony that gay individuals can adopt a child, but cannot do so as a couple, leaves New Zealand adoption law firmly in the WTF hall of fame.

Enter Labour’s promise to legalise same-sex adoption if elected. But National, picked to slam-dunk the bulk of the votes, has dismissed the issue as low priority. (Hmmm…low priority for who, exactly?)

Gay rights have always seemed to me a bit of a no-brainer. Of course gay people should have the same rights as everyone else. And not just in a “what you do behind closed doors is your business” kind of way. I’m talking marriage, adoption, holding hands on the street without getting sideways glances, the whole deal. Enough already. It’s time to move forward. Just like we no longer debate whether women should be allowed to vote, whether slavery is a good idea or whether Crocs are cool, it is time for restrictions on gay rights to be thrown in the how-the-hell-could-anyone-actually-believe-that incinerator.

New Zealand’s Prime Minister, John “majority” Key, has refused to review adoption law. His reasoning can only be described as bizarre. It is not a priority, he says, because the country has a low level of adoptions, and, oh, the economy is bad.

But hang on. Besides the likelihood that adoption numbers would increase if more people were eligible, using numbers to make decisions about minorities has all the trappings of the original problem. Gay people make up about two per cent of the population by most estimates. If you’re going to say “your concerns will be important when they affect more people”, you may as well say “your concerns will be important when you straighten up”.

I also fail to see how the economic downturn is reason to delay these changes to adoption law. Economic struggle implies less people can afford parenthood. So isn’t there even more reason to make as many suitable homes available for children as possible? It’s not actually a question of whether gay people should be parents: many already are (and last time I checked, Satan hadn’t stepped up to claim their souls). It’s a question of treating everyone equally under the law, and recognising same-sex partnerships as legitimate.

Of course, the Prime Minister did make the effort to go along to the Big Gay Out in Auckland this year (as did Phil Goff), and actually danced – danced – on stage. It’s not hard to figure out why. He didn’t do it because it’s a favourite pastime. He did it to win over the gay community. He did it to seem, for lack of a better word, liberal.

But where is the substance to back up this bid of acceptance? Key danced the dance, but when it came to the question of civil unions in 2005, he didn’t vote the vote. And when asked by Steven Oates at the Big Gay Out if he would vote for civil unions now, Key did a different dance – a clumsy dance of avoidance that must have made media trainers everywhere cringe. “Wait for my book,” he finally managed. It was entertaining and simultaneously baffling. He is the Prime Minister. Voters shouldn’t have to wait (or pay) to know what he thinks. Save some trees and tell us, John.

The reality is that society has changed. Adoption legislation needs to change too. And it will. It’s only a question of when.

Only Oprah can save Labour now

Mon, 10 Oct 2011 02:26:00 -0400

Oprah is the kind of woman who wins. She has dominated seemingly every field that has caught her fancy. Top talk show host? Check. Top of the Forbes rich list for women in the entertainment industry? Check. Thriving magazine to her name? Check. An unreasonably successful book club? Check.

In fact, you could venture a solid case that Oprah is the most powerful woman in the world. Sure, Hilary Clinton has an impressive following, but if Hils mentions the name of a book, film or brand of chips, that doesn’t forcibly shoot it straight to the top of the best-seller list quite like Oprah’s endorsement. There are richer women than Oprah outside of Hollywood’s borders, but their names don’t spark the same instant recognition. Oprah’s power isn’t just about her professional position. It’s not just about her wealth. Oprah’s power stems from the complete and utter domination of one of the most basic human goals: getting people to like you.

I remember talking to my money-obsessed friend about why he wanted to be rich. He said it wasn’t so much the money, it was the power. The influence. It was what you could do with that money, or – let’s be honest – what you could get other people to do for you. And we both agreed money is the ultimate power.

But on second thought, I take it back.

Money gives you a lot of options, sure. But nothing lowers your influence in this world like being a complete tosser. Or, in Phil Goff’s case in the popularity contest that is New Zealand’s election campaign, a little bit lame.

John Key, with his disarming smile and boyish charm, can do no wrong. The wage gap between New Zealand and Australia is more Grand Canyon than the street gutter he promised? Well, it’s not his fault, it’s just the recession. He goes back on his guarantee that GST won’t go up? Oh well, there must be a good reason. He breaks the rules of the election campaign by going on the radio for an hour? Well, um, that’s probably coz of the Christchurch earthquakes or something…right?

Phil Goff, on the other hand, doesn’t have the looks or the likeability to pull in the votes. He may well know how to turn the economy around, stop climate change, and generally inject awesome into every inch of the country. But no one would know it, because he comes across a bit like a soggy biscuit. And never mind that the general public seem to like Labour’s policies, from tax-free fruit and veges, to keeping state assets, to a milk price inquiry. All voters really care about is witty banter and good dental work.

What Labour needs is some Oprah magic. If anyone can take Phil’s place at this late stage, she is it.

Just imagine her up at the podium in the election debates. While John Key mumbles helplessly about youth unemployment, Oprah will flash her fabulous teeth, pump her fists in the air and declare, “We can do it! We can do it! We can do it!” The audience will scream and cry and clap in delight, not caring what “it” is or how Oprah plans to go about getting there.

“She’s not even a New Zealand resident!” John will cry. “But I believe in New Zealand!” Oprah will shout in reply, sparking a nation-wide cheer.

If she decided to, Oprah could out-Key Key.

Traditional campaigning ain’t gonna do it. Billboards and finger-pointing and policy-pushing are all too sensible to work. Labour needs Oprah. It’s as simple as that.

Fear sells: Sensationalising mental illness

Mon, 03 Oct 2011 03:49:00 -0400

This week’s instalment of unhelpful media coverage: an article titled “mentally ill patient on a rampage” (NZ Herald, 02/10/11).

I understand why someone would write this headline (I say “someone” rather than the author David Fisher, because I can’t be sure he typed the title). Journalists need an audience. It is their job to draw readers in. But even if journalists need to sell papers and attract web traffic, they should always be correct. The word “rampage”, in this case, is just plain wrong.

Now, I realise the assault in question was very, very serious. The man was, in fact, charged with attempted murder. I don’t want to downplay that. But does one attack, on a family member (as opposed to a stranger), really constitute a rampage? Or does this headline sensationalise the violence to get people to read the article?

I tick option B.

For a start, plenty of people who have never been in a mental hospital attack their family members. Domestic violence is, in fact, frighteningly common. In New Zealand, 41 people died due to domestic violence in 2009, according to the Family Violence Death Review Committee. But would these incidents ever be called a “rampage”? Certainly not if they involved one attack. Unless, of course, the perpetrator could be labelled as crazy.

To his credit, Fisher didn’t flaunt the patient’s diagnosis (and he certainly could have). He put it seven paragraphs in. But the implication of media coverage like this is simply incorrect. My psychology lecturers used to stress that people’s fear of the mentally ill is not justified. Mentally ill people, as a group, are not more likely to harm other people – they are only more likely to harm themselves.

And let’s not forget that a major contributor to mental illness is feeling like an outsider. The stereotypes that headlines like this reinforce do nothing to improve the situation. Actually, they are likely to make matters a whole lot worse.

Media labelling of mentally ill people as dangerous is just not helping things. Journalists have considerable power over public perception – let’s use that power wisely.

What's sex got to do with it?

Thu, 23 Jun 2011 19:01:00 -0400

The first time a guy ever said he loved me, he wrapped his arms around me, kissed me on the cheek and said the words. He promptly yelled “NOT!” and ran away laughing. Fair enough – we were seven years old and engrossed in an epic game of “catch and kiss” on the playground. I think his name was Lucas.

As in relationships, saying those words was not a mandatory part of the game. But even back then, the overall rule was clear: it was the boys who did the chasing, catching and kissing.

Confession: I’ve never said “I love you” first. Never got the chance, really. Every guy I have ever loved, and a few that I didn’t (thanks Lucas), always got in first. And it seems I’m not alone.

A recent study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that men were more likely to say those three words before their female partners. Did I blow your mind just then? Probably not. Sure, women are stereotypically more lovey-dovey, but they’re also taught to follow the rules of “catch and kiss”from early on in the relationship game. They’re taught to let men do the chasing. So men might end up saying “I love you” first, simply because their partners don’t want to scare them off with the declaration, right?

Apparently not.

The study also found that men first considered confessing their feelings an average of six weeks before women did. Six weeks! That’s a month-and-a-half of courting and canoodling where Romeo is thinking this could really go somewhere, while Juliet is all “We’ll see what happens” (the cold-hearted bitch). But if we sit Romeo down for a little chat about his intentions, maybe he’s not the commitment type after all.

I Love You – Can we have sex now?

As the saying goes, words are cheap. Like my catch-and-kiss buddy’s playground confession, not all declarations of love are an indication of lasting commitment. And as the authors of this study proposed, men might rush to the I-love-you stage to get to the clothes-on-the-floor stage.

Sure enough, they found that men were happier to hear their partner confess her love when she said it before they’d had sex than when it was said afterwards. They reasoned that men who hear “I love you” before getting down to it may take it as a positive sign that the woman wants to have sex with them – and soon. In contrast, the same words after sex reek of – eew – commitment.

But all these stereotypes are giving me a headache. Time for a sub-heading.

Not all Men are the Same

Not all men would be happy to exchange vows of love just to get someone into bed. As the authors acknowledge, some men are looking for a short-term fling; other men want a committed relationship (see dating websites for details). And according to this study, men (and women) in the latter category are happier to hear words of love after they start having sex with someone, when it is more likely to, you know, mean something. That is, men looking for love want to know the relationship isn’t just based on sex. Men looking for sex want…well, sex. The only thing left to do, then, is to spot the difference between the two. And in the meantime, maybe it’s a good idea to hold off on the “L” word.