By Dorothy Thompson.
I read today with sadness, a beautifully written story by a young woman journalist Karlie Rutherford, it was published in The Daily Telegraph and was titled “The biggest problem with Sydney men on buses”.
I was particularly touched because it had me wondering, is the rampant hyperbole of the #MeToo movement come at a tragically high cost. There has been a lot of hectoring about #MeToo, but few results. Four months ago, the head of the Australian movement, the former newsreader Tracey Spicer, announced she was ready to “name and shame” 40 sexual predators. This was supposed to include “dozens of allegations of rape”.
“We are actually looking at prosecutions as well as exposing these people”, she said. Channel Nine reported, “Spicer has put together a fierce team of police, legal representatives, witnesses and victims all ready to go on the record.”
In November, The Australian newspaper used a sensationalised headline declaring Spicer’s “Sexual misconduct file (is) imminent”. Yet we are still waiting, with the NSW Police insisting they “are not aware of any matters where Tracey Spicer is an informant or assisting with investigations”. But more of this later, here is the story that I am referring to:
“The biggest problem with Sydney men on buses”.
WOMEN are in the middle of a poignant time in history where our voices are being heard loud and clear across the globe as we fight for equality.
But has our battle come at the expense of common courtesy and killed off chivalry?
This thought occurred to me as, like many Sydneysiders, I was travelling home from a long day at work on a packed bus. I was forced to stand and cling on for dear life as our driver auditioned for a Formula One gig while, typically younger, gentlemen sat around me comfortably. Usually this wouldn’t have bothered me — I consider myself a strong, independent woman and understand the female fight for equality doesn’t necessarily give me the right to expect a man to stand for me.
But I’m pregnant.
At the time of writing I’m 23 weeks and while clearly have a bump, I don’t yet have the “pregnancy waddle” as my best friend so affectionately calls it. And the feeling intensifies when I see men, younger than myself, with their earphones in and eyes glued to their phones, enjoying the ‘luxury’ of a seat on a public bus.
Now, I understand that becoming a mother is a choice — it’s a blessing and a joy. However with it comes fatigue, swollen limbs, and sweatiness. Lots of it. And that’s if you have a good pregnancy. I take my hat off to the women of the world who battle daily sickness but just power on. While it’s certainly not a disability, I’d be lying if my growing shape and size didn’t impact my day-to-day life.
Across all walks of life, women have fought for the right to equality. But the one area we will never be equal is pregnancy — unless science fiction has other plans, men can’t carry children. Full stop.
What I wonder though is whether our push for pay parity or seats in the boardroom has negated our need for seats on the bus. Does it mean we have to forgo basic chivalry. Is it possible to still be a strong, self-reliant woman and expect simple old-fashioned gentlemanlike gestures?
Should I be flattered that men don’t stand up for me because they see me on the same level?
Granted, that frustrating day I was eventually offered a seat……………. by a woman.
Australia’s qazi elites, feminists, do Gooders and media hacks including someone known as Diane Smith-Gander, from the boardroom-based “Chief Executive Women”, (if you are wondering just who they are, I didn’t know, so I looked them up their web site claims: Founded in 1985, Chief Executive Women now represents more than 500 of Australia’s most senior and distinguished women leaders, whose shared vision is Women Leaders Enabling Women Leaders.
We strive to educate and influence all levels of Australian business and government on the importance of gender balance. Through advocacy, targeted programs and scholarships, CEW works to remove the barriers to women’s progression and ensure equal opportunity for prosperity). She declared: “For the past six months the only thing anyone can talk about has been sex – sexual harassment, domestic violence and the #MeToo movement.” Now they would have us believe they don’t know anyone who talks about normal subjects, like their child minding costs, the rising cost of shopping at the supermarket. They claim that education and rising power and fuel prices are of no prominent concern to ordinary Australians. They would have us believe that we are all obsessed with #MeToo issues.
Are they kidding; where I live there is little talk about sex, other than between consenting adults. In my neck of the woods, #MeToo is seen as a Hollywood phenomenon, the product of an image-obsessed, promiscuous, hallucinogen culture. It’s preposterous to watch actors best known for their relationship instability and drug use lecturing others about morality.
In Australia, #MeToo has outed a couple of B-grade celebrities but even in these matters, the truth won’t be clear until defamation cases are finalised. Then there is the farce that has atrophied our political leaders for the past few weeks, the entire Joyce affair with its truly Machiavellian proclivities.
The threat to individual freedom is appallingly under siege, with traditional Left- and Right-wing politics uniting in support of #MeToo totalitarianism.
Not only are they trying to regulate the natural order of attraction between males and females, but in returning to the Victorian era, where by they are wittingly reversing decades of human rights gains for women.
The sexual revolution and fight for sexual freedom of the 1960s, in which women were the main beneficiaries, may now have to be fought for a second time.