And here’s what the chaps think
RAY CONNOLLY
In MY mating heyday I was a wolf without a whistle. It isn’t as though I didn’t fancy every pretty young woman who passed. Of course I did. But, quite apart from having not learned the necessary skill of sticking two fingers between my teeth to make any audible appreciation carry more than two yards, I would never have had the nerve.
It takes confidence to wolf-whistle. Supposing you did and the object of beauty glanced back at you, summed you up and then gave you a long dismissive, testicular-shrivelling look. That would put you in your place, wouldn’t it?
And wouldn’t your mates laugh at you? Because when a bloke whistles at a girl, nine times out of ten he has an audience of mates who are watching to see what reaction he gets.
In the animal world, it’s known as a mating call; among humans, usually only the cheekier young blades dare do it. It’s just one part of a centuries-old courting ritual.
Imagine yourself on the promenade at Blackpool with your mates, and below you on the beach are gaggle of girls. You’re looking for girls and they’re looking for boys. But how do you introduce yourself? It isn’t easy.
So, you whistle safely from afar to attract their attention, and a bit of banter is soon struck up. Soon, you’re on your way, arm-in-arm, to who knows what delights.
What poor Poppy Smart (which, incidentally, is the sort of name that almost begs to be whistled at) doesn’t seem to have understood is, irritating though the whistlers may have been, their behaviour wasn’t sexual harassment but simply a bit of traditional mating fun.
If she didn’t like it, she should have gone the other way to work.
BRIAN VINER
Wolves have a reputation as dangerous, predatory creatures. That’s why the very term ‘ wolf-whistling’ can imply an act of aggression: a man preying on a defenceless woman. But that’s also why ‘wolf-whistling’ is a misleading expression for an act that, nine times out of ten, is innocently, even generously meant.
Honestly, let’s be sensible about this. I have a wife and a daughter. I’m rather old-fashioned about protecting their honour. But would I be enraged if they were wolf-whistled in my presence? not in the slightest.
Of course, that probably wouldn’t happen. Men don’t usually whistle at women when they’re with other men, which is another reason for feminists to shriek: ‘Sexism!’ But if they’ll forgive the metaphor, they’re crying wolf.
Where the wolf whistle is designed to intimidate, then by all means let’s censure it. But it is more often issued as a conveniently concise form of compliment, and it’s no more threatening, in most circumstances, than a group of women having a ribald laugh as a dishy bloke walks by.
To slap it down as the very definition of sexual harassment is, frankly, to forget what kind of nation we are. Angry feminists should save their energy for other, more important battles.