Ornoth

As a man who tries to be sensitive to gender issues, I want to address one way that I think women and men both unconsciously perpetuate marginalization of women.

You might not think one’s given name could be the source of judgement and marginalization… but you’d be wrong.

It might sound like an incredibly minor nit, but what could be more core to one’s identity than the very name you use to refer to yourself, and the names you use for others?

Consider the difference in how you respond to a man who calls himself “Robert”, versus if he introduced himself as “Robbie”. Even if you’re looking at the same individual, most of us will have a meaningfully different initial impression of someone depending on whether he is introduced to us as “Billy” or “Willie” or “William”.

The underlying cause goes at least as far back as Latin, if not earlier. In Romance languages, words that end in open syllables (ending in a vowel sound like “Billy” and “Robbie”) are almost always grammatically feminine, while words ending in consonant sounds (closed syllables) like “Robert” and “William” are usually grammatically masculine.

Don’t get confused by the labels “masculine” and “feminine”. Those just represent two classes of words. I’m not saying that “Robbie” is really a girl’s name, or that “Janet” should be a boy’s name. At least not directly…

However, in Romance languages—and thus in Western society overall—the grammatical feminine has often been applied to things that are cute, small, young, informal, trivial, and (in gender terms) feminine. As a result, when we hear a name that ends in a vowel sound, we tend to ascribe those attributes to the person.

Calling someone “Scotty” is not just a less formal way to address “Scott”; because names ending in open syllables carry this historical baggage, it also carries with it the idea Scotty is more diminutive or more childish or less serious than Scott. And it isn’t much of a leap to infer that Scotty himself is inferior, subordinate, and less capable than his “older brother” Scott. Just as Robbie is less adult than Robert, and Jimmy is less professional than James.

This becomes an even greater concern when applied to women. We have very different preconceptions when we meet a girl named “Chrissie” than a woman named “Christine”, or “Shelly” versus “Michelle”. When a woman’s name ends in an open syllable, the association with grammatically feminine attributes like smallness, informality, and youth becomes really problematic. They didn’t call her “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” because it’s a strong name; they used it because (in contrast to her occupation as a Slayer) it’s such a weak, fluffy, impotent, “girly” name.

What’s worse is that we as a society still prefer to name women something cute and feminine, automatically hampering our daughters’ chances of being taken seriously right from the maternity unit. And even then, women will often choose to abbreviate their name into a “cute” nickname that ends in an open syllable.

When I first wrote this article, I looked at my employer’s “About Our Team” page. After removing the outliers from our India office, I counted up the names that end in open syllables, and grouped them by gender. What did I find? In a progressive software company, 73 percent of the women listed names that end in vowel sounds, while only 13 percent of men did. Our female employees were more than five times as likely to bear names associated with smallness, informality, and inferiority than their male coworkers.

I also checked out the most popular 100 given names for each gender over the past 100 years, thanks to this Social Security Administration page. While not quite as dramatic, the trend is inescapable. Women were 2.5 times more likely to have open-syllable names as men (56 percent to 23 percent).

Bottom line, we’re saddling our daughters with names that trivialize them from childhood through adulthood.

Of course, this only applies to Western society. The Japanese language doesn’t natively have closed syllables at all, which can cause some confusion among Westerners. It shows the extent of our bias that you might guess that Japanese people named Tomoya, Takeshi, Makoto, Kenichi, Junichi, Yuji, Katsumi, and Koki were female. They’re not; those are among the most frequently-used male names in Japan.

As a final parting shot, I encourage you to take a moment and consider your emotional response and preconceptions based on the following pairs of names. For me, the conclusion is absolutely clear that using a name which ends in a vowel sound is both trivializing and marginalizing, and something I’d suggest be avoided, especially by progressive-minded parents.

With sincere apologies to those of you who might already bear such names!

There’s an idea that pervades society that men act like wimps when they get sick. Naturally, this has been advanced and perpetuated by the female lobby, but I think many men generally accept it, as well.

Usually, ideas that are so universal have at least some basis in fact. After all, if only a handful of women thought men were crybabies, that myth wouldn’t engender the universal credence that it does today.

So there’s probably some truth behind the statement that men react more strongly to, say, the common cold than women do.

The question then becomes: why?

Most women would answer by re-stating the presumably obvious fact: because they’re wimps! But is that really the most likely explanation? Is it really plausible that it all boils down to one personality flaw that is shared among all men on the planet, but not a single woman?

Consider an alternative hypothesis. Is it possible that men actually experience cold symptoms differently than women? After all, there are precedents for gender-specific diseases and variations in diseases. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone has done a study of differences in how the genders experience common illnesses.

Frustratingly, when I mentioned this idea to one of my female friends, the answer was categorical: “No, men are just wimps”. Even in the absence of any data, she refused to admit that it was a possibility that men and women experience colds differently.

That kind of categorical dismissal reminds me of other gender-based physiological issues that were scoffed at for centuries: pre-menstrual syndrome and menopause. After having spent decades trying to get men to recognize and accept the reality of PMS and menopause rather than dismissing them, one would think that women might be more open to the idea that men, too, might have physiological symptoms that differ from their own.

Never mind the fact that calling men wimps also perpetuates the whole “men must be macho and never vulnerable” stereotype that women usually rail against.

But no, women seem perfectly willing to treat men’s symptoms as fiction, just as nineteenth century men did with women’s ailments that today are accepted as medical realities.

Of course, I’m not asserting that men actually *do* experience illnesses more intensely than women. I’m merely saying that since that is such a universal observation, perhaps there’s some physiological basis for the idea that men experience more suffering from colds than women.

My position is that we just don’t know, because no one has done the research. And if you’re not even willing to admit the possibility, then I think you should carefully examine why you feel so strongly about it, in the absence of any objective data to back it up.

So I say to today’s women the same thing I would have said to men who derogated women for PMS and menopause: before you cause harm by mocking your significant other’s symptoms, keep an open mind and consider offering them some compassion and understanding, rather than using their malady as an opportunity to take your “loved” one down a peg.

Because no one has proven that men’s apparent suffering is a purely mental fabrication.

Ladies, I know you think those big honkin’ round full-face Jackie O sunglasses are a total fashion coup…

… but frankly, to us guys they make you look just like Elton John.

Click it!

It’s a common belief that women by nature have a more developed sense of empathy than men. Whenever a child cries or someone is treated unfairly, we usually expect a woman to respond in a more sympathetic manner than a man.

As the generalization goes, we think that men are cold, stony, and insensitive. A man simply isn’t capable of putting himself in someone else’s place, of understanding and responding to what someone else must be feeling.

The irony of this belief struck me recently, while I was observing some guys participating in a mildly competitive but friendly game of foos. The gentlemen were very engaged and animated, vocally sharing their excitement when someone benefited from good fortune or made an admirable shot, and commiserating over the occasional unlucky bounce. And they certainly were bonding with one another through those shared emotions.

Anyone who has any question about whether men are capable of empathy would have that misperception corrected by watching a man engaged in or observing any competitive pursuit. The reason why men get so visibly wrapped up sporting events is because he knows what it feels like. That might be a different kind of empathy, but it still meets the dictionary definition: the awareness and vicarious experience of another person’s feelings.

Tomorrow there’s a rather big sporting event going on. It might be a good opportunity to watch this masculine version of empathy in action. I’d be curious to hear what you observe.

Ironically, one of our female officemates came by during that foosball game and expressed her complete disinterest, and even joked about how “into it” the guys were, mocking the men for their emotional involvement in a mere game. Does that not mean women lack the ability to connect with others’ feelings, at least in this particular fashion? Perhaps so. And perhaps our preconceived ideas about “empathy” warrant a less gender-biased examination.

I thought I’d share a favorite bit o’ Thomas Moore with you this evening. I absolutely fell in love with the first five lines of this back in my wandering college days, and I’m sure I used it as a sig back in the days. The original was published way back in 1817, but I find it holds great contemporary value, and is a choice bit of wisdom to ponder with the boys over a pint. And two decades later, I begin to appreciate that third stanza, which is an amusing counterpoint now that I’m “of an age”.

The time I've lost in wooing,
In watching and pursuing
   The light, that lies
   In woman's eyes,
Has been my heart's undoing.
Tho' Wisdom oft has sought me,
I scorned the lore she brought me,
   My only books
   Were woman's looks,
And folly's all they've taught me.

Her smile when Beauty granted,
I hung with gaze enchanted,
   Like him the Sprite,
   Whom maids by night
Oft meet in glen that's haunted.
Like him, too, Beauty won me,
But while her eyes were on me,
   If once their ray
   Was turned away,
O! winds could not outrun me.

And are those follies going?
And is my proud heart growing
   Too cold or wise
   For brilliant eyes
Again to set it glowing?
No, vain, alas! the endeavor
From bonds so sweet to sever;
   Poor Wisdom's chance
   Against a glance
Is now as weak as ever.

“The test of a man is how well he is able to feel about what he thinks. The test of a woman is how well she is able to think about what she feels.”

A couple of you responded to my earlier posting here that solicited reactions to the above statement.

You probably knew I was trolling, but that’s okay. Here’s the rest of the story…

Yes, that statement was made by a prominent feminist. It’s probably the most well-known quote from Mary McDowell, an early suffragette, labor activist, abolitionist, and best buddy of Jane Addams. She was a social reformer at Hull House, the WCTU, the AFL, and the Women’s Trade Union League.

One of the things I completely fail to understand is unmarried women who go out wearing fake wedding rings.

To a woman, perhaps the logic is sound. "If I'm wearing a wedding ring, then I'm not going to get hit on. I can avoid dealing with aggressive men, and I'll have a ready excuse for dismissing any men who do approach me."

Although that might appear to make sense, it's really a perfect example of subjective thinking. Let's look at how this really works from a man's perspective. Let's start by saying that there are two types of guys in the world: the inconsiderate and the considerate. I think that's not an uncommon segmentation for women to make.

The inconsiderate guy is really the guy that women are trying to avoid. He might be loud or pushy, but he's definitely both selfish and thoughtless. He doesn't really care who you are, he just wants to have some fun, and is looking for a girl who will accommodate him.

Is this guy even going to look at your wedding ring? In all likelihood, probably not. He'll be just as happy to chat you up and see how far he can get anyways. Maybe he thinks your ring is just decorative. Or more likely he knows that lots of women pull this stunt, and assumes that if you're around, you're available and "looking for it". He really doesn't care that you're wearing a ring; the only thing that's going to stop him is a very forcible "No"... hopefully.

Then there's the considerate guy. He's still out for a good time, but he's learned that women aren't objects, and he doesn't want to come across like a "typical guy". This guy won't barge into your conversation, and he won't assume that your presence indicates your interest in sex. This is the kind of guy that most women would enjoy: he thinks of you, he's not threatening, and he'll go away if you want him to. Unfortunately, you may never get to meet him, because unlike the other guy, he can hear what you are saying to him when you wear that ring.

It's sad that we live in a culture where women are so fearful of men that they treat every unknown man, no matter how considerate, as if they were a convicted rapist/murderer. Having been a victim of that preconception, I think it's as sexist and prejudicial as any other form of hate. But if we take that fear as a given, I think putting on a wedding ring is a pretty ineffective response to it. By doing so, you drive away the guys who would give you a fair share of respect, but do nothing to stop the selfish, thoughtless guys whom you want to avoid. In short, you're guaranteeing that all the guys you meet are going to be jerks.

That, of course, reinforces your fear of men, your impression that they are all jerks, and your sexist prejudices. As you become more and more defensive, the cycle continues to reinforce itself, and harms both yourself and all the great considerate guys out there, without ever hurting or even discouraging the real problem: the inconsiderate guys.

Doesn't seem so terribly wise to me.