WHY I SPOKE OUT ABOUT #METOO

Iwas never going to take kindly to #Metoo, since it was the perfect storm of things I don’t like: rank groupthink; intellectual emptiness and rampant, moany victimhood that inevitably obscures the really awful (rape, violent assault and domestic violence) with the slightly annoying (kneetouching, fumbling seduction-attempts).

When I began writing about and discussing my criticisms I did it in fairly restrained terms. Although a year ago I’d have laughed at the idea that women are just as scary and angry as men on social media, by the time #Metoo broke I was beginning to sense that if I were to challenge the new allpowerful sisterhood of furious victims, there’d be trouble.

But I did break free, albeit in a controlled fashion. I said that I didn’t buy that all men were predators; that my bet was that the really dangerous, abusive men weren’t going to give a toss about this hashtag; that indeed if we did want to have a genuine think about why men – even in this day and age – were still taking liberties then a viral celebrity hashtag wasn’t going to cut the mustard. I worried that knee-touching and sexting by elite men of elite women would steal the show (as it did), while less visible women would continue to be walloped, beaten and murdered in droves (as they are).

Like the French women, too, I felt it would truly be a shame if flirtation were to be outlawed – every hug or peck on cheek becoming a possible law suit. Flirty come-ons are part of the fun and charm of adult life in my book. If we as women crumble at that stuff, we really are in trouble.

True to form, I was made to pay. I was told by one woman that I was “a disgrace” and was inundated with vengeful, insulting Tweets and menacing Facebook messages. Some sisterhood, eh?

The upshot? Wading against the tide can be bruising, sometimes horrifying, but it’s worth it to bring secret comfort to those who think differently but are afraid to admit it. Zoe Strimpel