CW: sexual assault
In the past few weeks, the sexual assault and misconduct allegations against Joe Biden have been a topic of a lot of frustration and anger among younger, far left-leaning people – a demographic that many harsh critics of Biden fit into.
As an observer and participant in the physical and digital space where these conversations are taking place, I’ve come to notice a disturbing phenomenon: Many young, self-described feminists who condemn public figures like Biden for their treatment of women are not holding real-life men to the same standards – and it starts with the culture that we perpetuate as college students and as people in our twenties.
In college culture, rumors of misconduct and abuse seep and spread silently through the student body of a university. Everyone knows about the guy who gets girls drunk to hook up with them, or the guy who beats up his girlfriend or the guy who cheats, lies and takes advantage of girls to get them under his thumb.
It’s scary how universal this experience is, but the reality is that everyone knows one or some of these men. They are everywhere, and most of them will get away with their behavior without any real consequences because our treatment of them encourages them that their actions warrant no repercussions.
It’s easy to condemn a man who’s high up in the spotlight, but in real life, and especially in a college environment, it gets trickier.
College is a place where many people have an unhealthy obsession with finding and maintaining social circles, both personally and professionally. In spaces like these where status is measured by who has the connections, who has the most friends and who is having the most fun at all times, acting with integrity can often cost you a lot of social capital.
Holding men accountable does not always have to be a vocal, outward choice – it can be something as simple as resolving to not associate with an abuser or anyone who functions as an apologist. But even then, making a silent decision to not tolerate abusers and apologists can feel very gutsy and costly. You can speak volumes without saying a word when you fail to grant someone the attention or social adoration that they are accustomed to.
If you condemn Joe Biden or Brett Kavanaugh or Chris Brown but find yourself turning a blind eye to the men in your own life that are guilty of misconduct, abuse or assault, I urge you to think about whether the social capital you are so insistent on preserving by not making waves is really worth it.
Posting and tweeting and shouting about believing women and supporting survivors means nothing if this attitude is limited to distant public figures: If you play a role in letting abusive men go unchecked while they are young and in their twenties, you are complicit in the creation of more Joe Bidens and Brett Kavanaughs and Chris Browns decades from now.
Men like them do not gain power and influence overnight – they rise to power over time, climbing from one academic or professional space to another in careers and journeys that span decades, often repeating the same behavior and hurting multiple women in the paths of destruction that they leave.
Along the way, there are crucial junctures or moments in time where the people and the institutions around them can either affirm or reject their behavior. Men will either learn that their choices negatively affect their personal and professional lives until they rebuild trust over time, or they will learn that they can act as they please with no real consequences. The latter is usually the case.
College feels like the first of these big junctures, and the culture at universities needs to shift in such a way that it feels riskier to let an abuser walk free of consequence than it is to lose social standing by being vocal or cutting ties.
The Biden conversation will continue, and soon enough it will be a new conversation about a new man. When you add your voice to these conversations, take a moment to ask yourself if you are holding all men to the same standard: If you are only holding men accountable when it is convenient, your feminism is performative at its best and extremely dangerous at its worst.
Odessa Stork is a junior with majors in philosophy and journalism. She serves as a copy chief for
The Chronicle and is from Carpinteria, California.