We all lose when fear keeps men from talking

People are always amazed when I say I’m friends with dudes in their 50s. They always look at me like I’ve got Daddy issues, am part of Gloriavale or I’m just a plain ol’ gold-diggin’ hoe. Because everyone knows it’s just weird for a woman in her 20s to be friends with a man in his 50s. If they are, it’s because sex and money are changing hands.

In reality, the kinky highlights of our conversations range from discussions on bird of the year to how to teach their teenage daughters to wash up. Mostly we talk about work, largely because, while we are friends, these guys are all (or were at some point) my mentors.

I’m absurdly lucky to have them. Especially if I ever have a burning question related to cricket or local council elections. But all of them, from the Grandpa-ish teddy bears to hard-boiled grumpy buggers, have dedicated huge amounts of time and mental energy to listening to my ramblings. As such, they taught me more than a uni degree ever could.

I was thinking about this because we just celebrated the first birthday of #metoo. And in the last year, one of the most disappointingly common things I’ve heard men say is they won’t mentor young women now because they’re too afraid.

And it’s not just here; in the United States, research from earlier this year suggests that almost half of male managers are uncomfortable in participating in work activities such as mentoring, working alone or socialising together.

In Australia, 25 per cent of men express similar discomfort at working alone with women. And now I hear guys, good, intelligent rational men, stepping back from mentoring young women out of fear of, well, just fear.

Now, I get this. It’s deeply disappointing. But I get it. For a start, there’s a helluva lot of misinformation about #metoo. Faint hysteria is wafting through office blocks saying that it’s a witch-hunt, you can’t say anything to women these days and that men are under attack.

Now, it’s really not. For most people, the practical implications of #metoo is that you should just listen and recognise that a lot of women have been sexually harassed at work. And think about what we can do to change that.

However, naturally if you’re someone who has sexually harassed others, then there’s a higher chance you’ll be held accountable for that now. (Emphasis on chance. Ahem, Brett Kavanaugh.) So if you’re one of those guys who does grope, sleaze and creep on people, you should feel afraid, very afraid. If you don’t, you’re good.

But while that’s true on a simplistic level, I know there’s still a deeper undercurrent of fear. You might not want to mentor women now because you’re worried how it looks to the outside. And yes, even if all you talk about is bird of the year, men and women can quickly accuse you of improper behaviour. Especially when they’ve been brought up to believe that ‘‘men only want one thing’’.

Some men worry that women don’t know the difference between flirting and normal conversation, and so the women might interpret their professional overtures in the wrong way. Yes, there are some women who think every man talking to them is hitting on them. However, they’re pretty rare. In my experience, it’s about 35 per cent of men who think that every woman who talks to them is trying it on, versus about 5 per cent of women. Largely because a woman, and all her friends, will put way more time and effort into evaluating whether a person’s hitting on them than a man does. Subsequently you get a much more considered response over whether you’re being hit on or asked to pass the stapler.

And I’ve also heard the fear that a woman might just straight up lie about you. Yes, some might. But again, these women are even rarer than those who think that every man who looks at them wants to shag them. They’re the 0.5 per cent of crazies who exist in all pockets of humanity, and yet get a disproportionate amount of coverage in people’s consciousness.

The point I’m making is, on the balance of probability, you’re probably going to be fine mentoring young women. In fact, you’re probably going to have a fantastic, enriching experience.

Crucially, we should be doing everything we can do to destroy the cheap, cynical notion that ‘‘all men’s attentions towards women are predatory’’. We need men to acknowledge they may be afraid, but to move past it anyway because it’s hugely important to prove prevailing societal scepticism wrong. It’s hugely damaging, locks men and women into believing the very worst of men, and squashes all chances for goodness and generosity.

So it would be deeply, bitterly disappointing if men gave up on mentoring because of the small chance it could go wrong. Ultimately, the chance of that is still small. But if you give in to fear, the chances are very, very high that you and society lose out on a great, powerful experience.

We need men to acknowledge they may be afraid, but to move past it anyway because it’s hugely important to prove prevailing societal scepticism wrong.