Macho Paradox: Why Some Men Hurt Women and and How All Men Can Help

by Jackson Katz

  What are men to make of New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd when she writes, uncritically, that a “gaggle” of her female baby-boomer friends are “surreptitiously smitten” with a certain thirty-year-old rapper whose lyrics literally drip with contempt for women? What are boys to think of an online poll in CosmoGirl magazine in 2001 that found him to be the “sexiest musician”? That girls want to be treated with dignity and respect? Or that the quickest route to popularity with them is to be verbally and emotionally cruel, that “bad boy” posturing is a winning strategy to impress naïve (and self-loathing) girls? Surely most of Eminem’s female fans would not want to be sending that message to their male peers—but they are.

  People who have listened carefully to Eminem’s actual lyrics—not just the hit songs or the sanitized movie soundtrack—know that many self-respecting girls who are conscious about the depths of our culture’s sexism are repulsed by Eminem’s misogyny and depressed by his popularity. Sadly, many of these girls have been silent, fearing they will be branded as “uncool” because they “don’t get” the artist who is supposedly the voice of their generation.

  There are women who like Eminem because (they say) he is complex and not easily knowable; they would argue that it is dismissive to characterize his art as sexist. But the burden is on them to demonstrate how—in a culture where so many men sexually harass, rape, and batter women—it is possible to reconcile a concern for women’s physical, sexual, and emotional well-being with admiration for a male artist whose lyrics consistently portray women in a contemptuous and sexually degrading manner. Girls and women, even those who have been co-opted into Eminem worship, want to be treated with respect. They certainly do not want to be physically or sexually assaulted by men. They do not want to be sexually degraded by dismissive and arrogant men. But they cannot have it both ways. They cannot proclaim their attraction to a man who has gotten rich verbally trashing and metaphorically raping women, and yet reasonably expect that young men will treat them with dignity.

  The racial storyline around Eminem perpetuates racist myths

  Eminem is popular with white audiences in large measure because the African American gangsta rap icon Dr. Dre and other hard-core black rappers with “street credibility” have conferred on him a certain legitimacy. Dre is Eminem’s mentor and producer, signaling to black audiences as well that unlike previous white rappers such as Vanilla Ice, this white boy is for real. What is missing from this story is that Dr. Dre himself is one of the most misogynistic and homophobic figures in the history of rap music. He has produced and performed some of this era’s most degrading songs about women. “Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks/How could you trust a hoe/Cuz a hoe’s a trick/We don’t love them tricks/Cuz a trick’s a bitch” (“Bitches Ain’t Shit”). In other words, Eminem and Dre are modeling a perverse sort of interracial solidarity that comes at the expense of women. It is an old story: sexism provides men with a way to unite across race and class lines. African American people who are happy to see Eminem earning rap greater legitimacy in white America might want to consider that this era’s white artist most identified as a bridge to black culture has built that bridge on the denigration and undermining of black women—and all women.

  Eminem’s success has unleashed a torrent of mother-blaming

  One element of Eminem’s story of which all his fans are aware is that he and his mother do not get along. He claims that she was an unstable drug abuser who abused him emotionally. She sued him for defamation. Many people psychoanalyze him from a distance and argue that his problems with women stem from his stormy relationship with his mother. This may or may not be true, but it is an excuse that abusive men often make for their behavior. As Lundy Bancroft observes in his book, Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men, battered women themselves sometimes like this explanation, since it makes sense out of the man’s behavior and gives the woman someone safe to be angry at—since getting angry at him always seems to blow up in her face. It is hard to say what percentage of Eminem fans relate to his often articulated rage at his mother, but consider this anecdotal evidence: I attended an Eminem concert in southern California during the Anger Management Tour in 2002. At one point, Eminem ripped off a string of angry expletives about his mother (something like “F-you, bitch!”) after which a sizeable cross-section of the eighteen-thousand-person crowd joined in a violent chant repeating the verbal aggression against Ms. Mathers (and no doubt other mothers by extension). Why is this aspect of the Eminem phenomenon such a cause for concern? No one begrudges Eminem, or anyone else, the right to have issues—including in some cases being very angry with their mothers. However, it is not a great stretch to see that Eminem’s anger can easily be generalized to all women and used as yet another rationale for some men’s deeply held misogyny.

  Considering Eminem’s roots on the economic margins of “white trash” Detroit, class is also a critical factor here. Poor women—especially poor women of color—are easy scapegoats for many societal problems. Eminem’s fans presumably know little about the context within which Debbie Mathers (who is white) tried to raise her children. Might we have some compassion for her as we are asked to for him? Why was she constantly struggling financially? How did educational inequities and lack of employment opportunities affect her life, her family experiences, her education level, her dreams, her ability to be a good parent? As a woman, how did sexism shape her choices? She became pregnant with Marshall (Eminem) when she was fifteen. What was her personal history, including her history with men? Was she ever abused? We know a lot of women with substance abuse problems develop them as a form of self-medication against the effects of trauma. What is the connection between Ms. Mathers’s alleged (by her son) substance abuse and any history of victimization she might have? Further, if Eminem’s father deserted him and the family when Marshall was young, why is so much of Eminem’s verbal aggression aimed at his mother and at women? If you buy the argument that Eminem’s misogyny comes from his issues with his mother, then considering his father’s behavior, why doesn’t he have a huge problem with men? Hint: the answer has to do with sexism. It is easy to blame struggling single mothers for their shortcomings; right-wing politicians have been doing this for decades. A more thoughtful approach would seek to understand their situations, and while such an understanding would provide no excuse for abuse or neglect (if that is what Eminem actually experienced), it would give it much-needed context.

  Eminem verbally bullies women and gays and then claims, “I was just kidding around”

  Many of Eminem’s fans claim that his Slim Shady persona and nasty anti-woman lyrics are just an act. But his misogyny comes out in interviews as well. In a Rolling Stone magazine interview in 1999, Eminem tried to explain his writing process:

  “My thoughts are so fucking evil when I’m writing shit, if I’m mad at my girl, I’m gonna sit down and write the most misogynistic fucking rhyme in the world. It’s not how I feel in general, it’s how I feel at that moment. Like, say today, earlier, I might think something like ‘coming through the airport sluggish, walking on crutches, hit a pregnant bitch in the stomach with luggage.’”

  Elizabeth Keathley points out in a fascinating music journal essay entitled, “A Context for Eminem’s Murder Ballads,” that many journalists buy the argument that misogyny is a creative response warranted by certain circumstances in an intimate relationship, rather than a world view that informs a person’s choices. This rationalization allows them to “overlook” Eminem’s misogyny and accept at face value his claim that’s he’s only kidding. Eminem’s defenders—including a number of prominent music critics—like to argue that his ironic wit and dark sense of humor are lost on many of his detractors. This is what his predominantly young fans are constantly being told: that some people don’t like the likeable Em because they don’t get him, the personae he has created, his transgressive humor. In comparison, his fans are said to be much more hip, since they are in on the joke. A
s a non-fan, I would offer this response: “We get it, all right. We understand that lyrics are usually not meant to be taken literally. And we have a good sense of humor. We just don’t think it is funny for men to joke aggressively about murdering and raping women, and assaulting gays and lesbians. Just like we don’t think it is funny for white people to make racist jokes at the expense of people of color. This sort of ‘hate humor’ is not just harmless fun—no matter how clever the lyrics or spellbinding the backbeats. Music lyrics and other art forms can either illuminate social problems, or they can cynically exploit them. Eminem is arguably a major force in the latter category. Sorry if we don’t find that funny.”

  Eminem’s rebel image obscures the fact that men’s violence against women is not rebellious.

  Eminem has been skillfully marketed as a “rebel” to whom many young people—especially white boys—can relate. But what exactly is he rebelling against? Powerful women who oppress weak and vulnerable men? Omnipotent gays and lesbians who make life a living hell for straight people? Eminem’s misogyny and homophobia, far from being “rebellious,” are actually extremely traditional and conservative. They are also clearly profitable, both for Eminem and Interscope records, for Nike, with whom Eminem has had a lucrative promotional contract, and with all of the other media that profit from his “controversial” act. As a straight white man in hip-hop culture, Marshall Mathers would actually be much more of a rebel if he rapped about supporting women’s equality and embracing gay and lesbian civil rights. Instead, he is only a rebel in a very narrow sense of that word. Since he offends a lot of parents, kids can “rebel” against their parents’ wishes by listening to him, buying his CDs, etc. The irony is that by buying into Eminem’s clever “bad boy” act, one could argue that they are just being obedient, predictable consumers. It is rebellion as a purchasable commodity. But if you focus on the contents of his lyrics, the “rebellion” is empty. If you are a “rebel,” it matters who you are and what you are rebelling against. The KKK are rebels, too. They boast about it all the time. They fly the Confederate (rebel) flag. But most cultural commentators would never dream of speaking positively about the KKK as models of adolescent rebellion for American youth because the content of what they advocate is so repugnant. Likewise Eminem would be dropped from MTV playlists and lose his record contract immediately if he turned his lyrical aggression away from women and gays and started trashing people of color, Jews, Catholics, etc. In that sense, Eminem’s continued success makes a statement about how this culture regards women and gays. Sadly, it is a statement that many progressive, feminist, egalitarian, and nonviolent people in this era of white male backlash find quite deflating.

  WRESTLING WITH MANHOOD

  Professional wrestling has escaped serious cultural analysis largely because of its spectacular surface appeal and the common assertion that “it’s only entertainment.” But its immense popularity and cultural presence, its consistently high ratings, and its aggressive promotion across a range of media channels raise some basic questions: Why is pro wrestling so popular? What does its popularity tell us about gender relations in this era? Given that the audience for World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) is comprised overwhelmingly of boys and young men, what are the stories it tells them—especially about what it means to be a man or a woman? How does pro wrestling contribute to rape culture?

  In the past, discussions about wrestling’s effects on “real world” violence have typically centered on the behavioral effects of exposure to it. Does it cause imitative violence? But that question misses the point. The issue is not, “Are children imitating the violence they see?” but “Are boys learning that taunting, ridiculing, and bullying define masculinity?” People who do not watch wrestling are often surprised to learn that real (or simulated) violence actually comprises a small percentage of the length of a pro wrestling telecast. Most of the time is devoted to setting up the narratives, and to verbal confrontation and bullying. In wrestling video games, each combatant not only has signature moves, but also verbal taunts that can be directed against either an opponent or the crowd. The object of the game is to see who can be the most effective bully. There are also numerous storylines that depict men harassing and humiliating women, and imposing their will on women’s bodies—often in sexually graphic ways. There are numerous instances of men forcing kisses on women, pouring beer down their throats, and commanding them to perform simulated sex acts. In one scene involving two popular characters, the woman is obviously passed out and lying on the ground. The man gets on top of her to simulate rape as the announcers shriek with delight about how much she enjoys it. “She’s liking it,” one of them exclaims. “She’s euphoric.”

  We know from decades of research that depictions of violence in the entertainment media create a cultural climate in which such behavior is accepted as a normal, even appropriate, response to various situations. As the pioneering media researcher George Gerbner explains, the problem of violence in media is not so much its graphic depiction but the stories it tells about who has power and who does not, who has the right to use it, and who is an appropriate victim. In that sense professional wrestling tells a powerful story about how “real men” prevail—through intimidation, humiliation, and control, all accomplished by verbal, physical, and sexual aggression. Manhood is equated explicitly with the ability to settle scores, defend one’s honor, and win respect and compliance through physical force. Already, this definition of manhood is at the root of much interpersonal violence in our society—including men’s violence against women. While it might not be possible to demonstrate a direct relationship between pro wrestling and domestic violence, it is clear that the wrestling subculture contributes to a larger cultural environment that teaches boys and men that manhood is about achieving power and control over women. And when you combine this lesson about manhood with storylines that depict women as two-dimensional objects whose main entertainment function is to take off their clothes, you have a potent recipe for the normalization of rape.

  The role of women in the WWE has changed over the past decade. Back in the 1980s, in the days of Hulk Hogan and the Macho Man, women were essentially restricted to a couple of ornamental figures whose main function was to look good and titillate the audience. Today, they play a much more prominent role, either as wrestlers or as bimbo/prostitute sidekicks. In both cases they are highly sexualized and wear little clothing, and function effectively as strippers for the largely male audience. As the WWE’s Torrie Wilson explains, “To put it bluntly, [my character] has gotten a little sleazier, the clothes have gotten a little skimpier. I learned through trial and error that I got more popular as the hemlines got shorter.” But women in the WWE are not just objects for young men to stare at. As female characters have become more common, they have increasingly been drawn into the narratives. The sight of women being pushed, punched, and brutally slammed by men has become normalized through sheer repetition. There are countless scenes of men knocking women to the mat, punching them in the face, breaking chairs over their back, or mock-raping them. Wrestling might not directly cause men to be abusive to women, but there can be little doubt that it contributes to an atmosphere in which men’s violence against women is not taken seriously.

  What is perhaps most disturbing about the role of women in the WWE is the deliberate sexualization of men’s violence against them. Examples: A scantily clad woman—not a wrestler—is slapped by a male wrestler on her bare buttocks and then pushed out of the ring and onto the ground. A large male wrestler picks up a woman half his size, drapes her semi-nude body across his knees, licks his hand, and spanks her on the butt as the crowd cheers wildly. And in one of the most disturbing sequences of sexual bullying ever shown on television, Trish Stratus, a WWE icon and “one of the most sultry divas ever in sports entertainment,” according to her official website, is confronted by WWE CEO Vince McMahon, playing himself. Backstage, he accuses her of some transgression, and then demands that she publicly say she is sorry.
Once out in the ring, she does, but he presses on. “If you’re really sorry,” he says, “if you’re really, really sorry, take off your shirt!” She cowers and then complies as the audience roars its approval. He continues to verbally coerce her in this fashion until she is stripped down to her panties, barely covering her surgically enhanced breasts, at which point McMahon shouts at her to get on her knees and bark like a dog. She complies. The entire time, boys in the live arena audience and watching at home on television are treated to a kind of forced strip show, where their sexual arousal is linked to the sexually degrading treatment of an attractive but subservient woman at the hands of a powerful (white) man. On the WWE, men’s abusive treatment of their fictional girlfriends and wives is also commonly depicted within a storyline that presents the violence as deserved—a pattern that mirrors similar justifications in the “real world.” In one sequence where the wrestler Triple H confronts his “wife” for supposedly lying to him and angrily throws her down on the mat, the announcers literally say she deserves the beating he then inflicts on her. Similarly, wrestling plotlines regularly involve the sexual humiliation of women in the workplace, and treat the entire notion of sexual harassment as a joke. Until the character was discontinued a couple of years ago, in one of the most overtly racist and sexist characterizations on contemporary television, the Godfather, an over-the-top stereotype of a hustling pimp (and one of the few important black figures in the WWE) led out his “hoe train” of scantily-clad women to the leering and jeering crowds. Also, as female sexuality is increasingly prominent in the scripts, the line between the bimbo/prostitute sidekick and the female wrestlers has eroded. During one pay-per-view event, Miss Kitty, a one-time WWE women’s champion and a former hyper-sexualized sidekick, removed her top. Big contests for female wrestlers often involve “bra and panties” matches, mud or chocolate baths, Jell-O matches, or the “evening dress” contest (where you lose by having your dress ripped from your body). The most popular female wrestler ever, Chyna (whose real name is Joanie Laurer), built her reputation on her powerful physique. But after numerous cosmetic surgical procedures on her face and body, she posed nude in Playboy in 2000 in what became one of the largest-selling issues in that magazine’s history.