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‘Cause We’re All Just Part of
the System Really’: Complicity
and Resistance in Young
Sportsmen’s Responses to
Violence Against Women
Prevention Campaigns
in England
Stephen R Burrell
Durham University, UK
Abstract
In recent years, initiatives to prevent men’s violence against women on university campuses in
England have been growing. However, there remains a lack of institutional recognition about
the gendered dynamics of this abuse and the importance of engaging men in ending it. This
research sought to shed light on how young men make sense of violence prevention campaigns,
through eight focus groups with 45 members of men’s university sports teams. The focus groups
illustrated the need for prevention work to expand men’s critical consciousness of complicity
in violence against women, to encourage them to reflect on both their personal connections
to the problem and the positive role they can play in preventing it. This complicity was at times
exhibited within the focus groups themselves, such as in defensive responses when patriarchal
privileges and norms were brought into question. These included shifting the focus away from
men’s violence and onto men’s victimisation, naturalisations of partner violence as an inevitability,
and disassociating from the problem as if it was separate from the participants’ lives. Collective
masculine norms appeared to play a substantial role in shaping the discussions, illustrating how
these can mediate young men’s responses to prevention campaigns. However, at times the
participants did challenge sexism among one another and articulate resistance to men’s violence
against women, demonstrating their capacity to create change. The article contends that violence
prevention requires critically addressing men’s practices and what Hearn calls the ‘hegemony of
men’ more broadly, rather than only problematising specific ‘forms’ of masculinities.
Keywords
engaging men and boys, intimate partner violence, masculinities, prevention campaigns,
university sport, violence against women
Corresponding author:
Stephen R Burrell, Department of Sociology, Durham University, 29 Old Elvet, Durham DH1 3HN, UK.
Email: s.r.burrell@durham.ac.uk
1049463SRO0010.1177/13607804211049463Sociological Research OnlineBurrell
research-article2021
Article
2 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
Introduction
There is increasing attention towards engaging with men and boys in order to prevent
men’s violence against women (Burrell, 2018). Evidence is growing about effective
practice, such as the importance of gender-transformative approaches which actively
work to shift masculine norms, and the need to instigate change holistically, across mul-
tiple levels of a community or organisation and not only among individuals, for it to be
sustainable (Casey et al., 2018; Flood, 2019). Yet, we still have much to learn about the
process of how meaningful transformations can be brought about in the perspectives and
practices of men and boys, including how they themselves view violence prevention
initiatives. This article draws on research which sought to provide new insights in this
regard, through the lenses of young sportsmen’s responses to violence against women
prevention campaigns, which highlighted both complicity with and resistance to that
violence.
In England, higher education is one context in which violence prevention efforts have
been developing in recent years. Since the National Union of Students (NUS, 2010)
published its ‘Hidden Marks’ report indicating that one in seven women experienced a
‘serious physical or sexual assault’ during their time at university, campaigning from
students and staff has pushed universities to do more to tackle these issues. This has led
to prevention work such as consent workshops and bystander intervention programmes
(e.g. the Intervention Initiative; Fenton and Mott, 2018) being implemented at many
universities.
Another NUS report by Phipps and Young (2013) shone a light on the gendered
dynamics of university cultures underpinning the prevalence of violence, harassment,
and abuse towards women on campus. Notions of ‘lad culture’ have entered public
debates, pointing to the role that influential masculine norms play in perpetuating sexism
and misogyny, as well as other harmful behaviours such as homophobia, at universities
(Phipps, 2017). As a result, some anti-violence work has focused specifically on engag-
ing men on campus in creating change, such as workshops by the organisation Beyond
Equality. However, despite the attention towards ‘lad culture’, there has been reluctance
from institutions to address the gendered roots of the problem (Burrell, 2018). For
instance, universities have typically limited their focus to sexual violence, rather than
connecting this with other forms of gender-based violence on campus, such as intimate
partner abuse.
Universities UK (2016), the national representative body for higher education institu-
tions, initiated a taskforce in 2015 ‘examining violence against women, harassment and
hate crime affecting university students’, which published a report titled ‘Changing the
culture’. The report contains relatively little detail about the gendered dimensions of this
culture, or the role of men in transforming it. Indeed, in the years since it was published,
while there has been progress at some universities such as policies and procedures being
introduced to tackle abuse and support survivors, men’s violence against women on cam-
pus and the sexism and misogyny that buttresses it remain pervasive. This has been
illustrated, for example, by the ‘#MeToo on campus’ movement and by high-profile
cases of misogynistic social media conversations among male students becoming public
(Haslop and O’Rourke, 2020). Recent NUS (2018) research has also found that 41% of
students have experienced some form of sexual misconduct from staff.
Burrell 3
There thus remains much need for more engagement with men on campus on ending
violence against women. This research sought to shed light on how this can be done
effectively with male students, looking in particular at those involved in sport. Research
has demonstrated that men’s sport is an environment where rigid or ‘hyper’ expectations
of masculinity, encouraging aggression, sexism, and entitlement, can often be influential
(Flood and Dyson, 2007). Sport is thus seen as a particularly important space for work to
prevent violence against women (Liston et al., 2017). Indeed, men’s university sport has
been illustrated as a context in which harmful masculine norms connected to ‘lad culture’
have been able to flourish in England (Jackson and Sundaram, 2020; Phipps and Young,
2013).
Other scholars, such as Anderson and McCormack (2018), have posited that more
‘inclusive’ forms of masculinity are also developing in some sports contexts. However,
this research suggests that young men’s attachments to what Hearn (2012) calls the
hegemony of men may be more deep rooted and difficult to shift.
This article therefore contends that violence prevention work needs to focus more
closely on how men perpetuate – and resist – this hegemony. It is based upon findings
from eight focus groups carried out with young men’s sports teams at an English univer-
sity. These discussions were facilitated by videos from a range of prevention campaigns,
focusing in particular on intimate partner violence, to gain insights into how such efforts
are understood and used by young men. Focus groups provided an opportunity to explore
the role that men’s peer groups play in shaping how they make sense of violence against
women. There is also little research on how men respond to anti-violence ‘social market-
ing’ campaigns, itself an important form of prevention work.
Method
The eight focus groups were conducted at a Russell Group (research-intensive) university
in England between December 2016 and June 2017. The size of the groups varied from
three to nine based on how many members of the sports teams were able and willing to
attend, with an average of five participants per session. Sports teams from across the insti-
tution were contacted by the author and invited to participate in a study focusing on inti-
mate partner violence prevention campaigns. Only a small minority of these responded;
among those that did, team captains played a decisive role in helping to arrange the ses-
sions, and recruiting and bringing along their teammates. In total, 45 young men took part.
Ethical approval for the study was granted by the author’s departmental ethics committee.
All participants gave informed consent before commencing, with sessions lasting 60 to
90 minutes based around a loose topic guide. Discussions focused primarily on the follow-
ing five prevention campaign videos, shown during the session:
Home Office: ‘This is abuse’ (2010),
Home Office: ‘Disrespect nobody’ (2016),
Australian Government: ‘Violence against women: Let’s stop it at the start’ (2016),
End Violence Against Women (EVAW) Coalition: ‘We are man’ (2011),
European Institute for Gender Equality (EIGE): ‘White Ribbon campaign: On the
bus’ (2016),1
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These were selected as particularly significant campaigns in the English context and/
or examples of unique approaches to violence prevention. The campaigns focused pri-
marily on partner violence, although the EVAW video addressed rape and the EIGE
video focused on public sexual harassment. Participants were asked about their views on
these, on campaigns they had encountered more broadly, and on what they felt needed to
be done to prevent partner abuse and violence against women in society, including men’s
role in this. The focus groups were audio recorded and manually transcribed before being
inductively thematically analysed utilising Braun and Clarke’s (2006) six-phase
approach. This included interpreting salient themes within each session, and then draw-
ing thematic connections between each of the focus group discussions. A key area of
attention was not merely what participants said, but the group context in which they were
expressed, and the interactions and dialogues between participants. All data collection
and analysis was carried out by the author.
In seeking to emulate homosocial peer settings in the participants’ day-to-day lives,
I was keen for the group composition to be as ‘natural’ as possible. Sports teams were
ideal in this respect, as pre-existing groups where participants already knew one
another. They represented a relatively accessible group of young men, of particular
interest given the aforementioned issues about university sport often resembling a
hypermasculine environment where violence against women may be more likely to be
legitimised.
A range of university sports clubs took part in the study, though most were from
team-based contact sports. Participants were aged between 18 and 25, with an average
age of 20, taking a variety of subjects across different levels of (mainly undergraduate)
study. They were typically from middle-class backgrounds, with common occupational
sectors for their parents, including business, finance, medicine, and teaching; 82% of
participants defined themselves as White, 7% as Asian, 7% as having a ‘mixed’ ethnic-
ity, and 4% as Black, with 89% of the young men being of British nationality. The
sample was therefore largely made up of students from relatively privileged social posi-
tions (broadly reflecting the demographics of the university in question) and should not
be seen as representative of young men in England more broadly. However, this fits
with the wider ethos of the study to place a spotlight on those with some degree of
structural power, to learn more about how that power is maintained. It was agreed that
participants would be anonymised beyond the focus groups, and they are referred to
using pseudonyms.
As a man conducting research on men’s violence against women, I sought to adopt a
critically reflexive approach throughout (McCarry, 2007), based upon pro-feminist
standpoint epistemology (Pease, 2013). I kept a research diary while conducting the
focus groups to facilitate this. Perhaps the biggest challenge to this approach was finding
a balance between listening to what the participants had to say and valuing their contri-
butions to the research, while applying a critical lens to their views and avoiding collud-
ing in or leaving unchallenged sexist attitudes or behaviours. Next, the article discusses
some of the key themes generated from the focus group data, which shone a light on how
young men can both perpetuate and challenge violence against women: building critical
consciousness of complicity; defensive responses; the influence of masculine group
norms; and expressions of resistance to men’s violence.
Burrell 5
Young men’s views of violence prevention campaigns
It was notable that the participants demonstrated relatively high levels of awareness
about intimate partner violence and perceived it to be a serious social problem. Indeed,
several were critical of campaigns they had encountered which they felt trivialised the
problem, perhaps by adopting a patronising tone towards young people, as if this was
necessary to get their attention. This included projecting overly simplistic messages such
as merely instructing young people what (not) to do. It was pointed out that this approach
risks coming across as lecturing or judgemental and could alienate its target audience.
Meanwhile, the young men appeared to appreciate being engaged with in a serious, dia-
logical way about partner violence as a social issue.
Many participants recognised that partner abuse takes a range of forms beyond physi-
cal violence, and that a more subtle pattern of controlling behaviours could be equally
harmful. Several felt that while these are hard to portray in a campaign, they are particu-
larly important to build understanding about:
The stuff that maybe you wouldn’t think about so much, the stuff to do with like, coercive
behaviour, just like little things, is actually more important. Because they’re stuff that, if maybe
viewed on their own you wouldn’t, think was such a big deal, or as stuff that you do need to
change about people’s behaviour. (Ted)
There was also some understanding that unhealthy, unequal relationship behaviours
might be relatively commonplace in society, and that practices normalised among men
could be experienced by women as controlling or intimidating, even if not intended as
such. However, several participants articulated uncertainty about where the ‘boundaries’
lie in defining what is unacceptable and abusive behaviour:
They only list a few things, like you can’t check people’s phones, you can’t ask for nude pics,
they’re not okay, but, where’s the line drawn where it is okay kind of thing? Is there anything
you’re allowed to do on someone’s phone, is there any sort of checking up you’re allowed to do
on a partner, is any of it okay? (Walter)
As a result, many of the participants felt it important for prevention work to address
more subtle, everyday harmful practices within young people’s relationships. Their com-
ments chimed with critiques of the notion that young men simply do not understand what
‘consent’ is (Coy et al., 2015), which could be interpreted as reinforcing low expecta-
tions of men. Instead, the implication was that consciousness should be raised about how
societal norms and expectations can contribute to harmful and oppressive dynamics
within sex and relationships – among men more broadly, not only those identified as
‘perpetrators’.
Expanding men’s critical consciousness of complicity
The young men’s responses therefore pointed to the value of prevention efforts working
to develop critical consciousness of the range of ways in which men can enact complicity
in violence against women (Pease, 2019), as explained by Xavier:
6 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
Where, many people might not be able to, relate specifically to issues of domestic violence and
that kind of thing, complicitness in kind of attitudes towards women, which might, you know,
facilitate that sort of, reasoning into people who do commit these things . . . can strike a bit
harder with people who otherwise wouldn’t engage with it.
Xavier illustrates that complicity can provide a valuable conceptual lens to under-
stand and relate to how men, and society as a whole, help to perpetuate violence against
women – and how all men can play a positive role in preventing it. If men’s violence
against women consists of a continuum of practices (Kelly, 1988), many of which nor-
malised and socially condoned and built upon deep rooted sexism and misogyny across
society, then it is likely that most, if not all, men have engaged in or endorsed behaviours
on that continuum at some point. Xavier implicitly acknowledged this when he went on
to reflect, ‘’cause we’re all just part of the system really’.
For instance, some participants talked candidly about their involvement in collective
sexist and objectifying practices; or at least witnessing them among their peers and stay-
ing silent. Connections were sometimes made with how this can be encouraged in mas-
culinised peer environments, such as a darts match:
Some girls came in to watch, and I just felt like the way they were . . . the girlfriend of one of
the guys who plays for our team, she was just kind of stood on the edge of the room. I think she
knew that if she would’ve come into the room, she’d have been subjected to something, even if
it was just some little joke or something, and she felt quite intimidated in that room, you could
tell. (Ugo)
Some of the young men also reflected on their relationships, and how they may have
at times behaved in ways which, while not in their eyes abusive, could have been oppres-
sive in some way. There was thus recognition that they might share a degree of complic-
ity in the kinds of unhealthy, unequal practices within sex and relationships that feed into
abuse:
Lots of people are probably guilty of slight sort of, mental, domestic abuse, that they wouldn’t
really, realise. Even this talk has made me think of, stuff that I’ve said, and been like, actually
that could possibly be classed as, domestic abuse if I kept doing it, on a grander scheme.
(Dwight)
This quote illustrates how it is not only those who directly use violence and abuse that
are involved in reproducing male dominance within sex and relationships. If patriarchal
ideas and norms are engrained across society, it is necessary to consider men’s conduct
within intimate relationships more broadly. Indeed, when considering how gender ine-
quality shapes our (inter)personal lives, making distinctions between ‘perpetrators’ and
‘normal’ men may not always be straightforward (Pease, 2019).
The ways in which participants talked about ‘grey areas’ and ambiguities in sex and
relationships sometimes suggested a lack of recognition about the power dynamics and
social context in which they take place, which is also missing from the notion that young
men simply need to ‘learn’ consent. For instance, on occasion they appeared to minimise
aggressive or controlling behaviours, if they were a ‘one off’:
Burrell 7
A text flashed up on his girlfriend’s phone, from a guy, a graphic text, and then he’s gone into
the phone, and realised that they were actually . . . this was not a random event, this had been
happening for ages, and therefore found out. But then again, according to that advert that would
technically be, not okay. But then, I don’t know . . . if I was in my room, and saw that flash up,
and it said, whatever it said, or a picture of, some guy’s dick or whatever, I’d be like, okay I’m
gonna investigate that a little bit. (Eric)
This example demonstrates the need to address how practices of control and surveil-
lance have become normalised through technologies in young people’s relationships and
sexual interactions. Meanwhile, in attempting to make sense of and legitimise their own
practices, the participants sometimes implicitly constructed mitigations for abusive
behaviour:
Where does that controlling aspect come from . . . is it really a power thing, is it trying to exert
power over someone? I think in most cases it’s probably not a power thing really, I mean it’s
almost like a fear of losing someone really, and it kind of resulted, to that as well . . . (Fabio)
Fabio went on to describe a situation when he arrived at his girlfriend’s house intoxi-
cated, and persistently asked to see her, in a potentially intimidating way. He saw this
behaviour as unacceptable, but still attempted to explain it as being motivated by his
‘fear of losing her’ and because he ‘just wanted to see her’, which the rest of the group
expressed sympathy towards. This illustrates how complicity can be enacted as men
attempt to rationalise their own dominating practices, and by extension, those of other
men, perhaps influenced by a sense of masculine entitlement to women’s attention. This
connects with research by Bongiorno et al. (2020) which found that empathy with male
perpetrators may be as significant as a lack of empathy for victims, especially among
men. For instance, participants also at times reproduced victim-blaming assumptions and
myths about violence against women, such as the notion that ‘false accusations’ by
women against men are commonplace.
Defensive responses
A recurring feature within the focus groups was what was interpreted as defensive
responses, in which participants quickly dismissed and avoided reflecting on the mes-
sages of prevention campaigns (as opposed to more constructive critiques of their con-
tent). This defensiveness can take a range of forms, with three main aspects identified:
shifting the focus away from men’s violence, naturalising the problem, and disassociat-
ing from it. While these defensive practices are complex, they can fundamentally be seen
as preserving men’s complicity, in that they appeared to revolve around the protection of
patriarchal norms and privileges when brought into question (Pleasants, 2011). This may
not have been deliberate; defensive responses may often represent an unconscious,
immediate reaction when taken-for-granted male dominance is made explicit and chal-
lenged. However, intentionality does not change their impact, in enabling men to evade
contemplating how they might be implicated in patriarchy, or whether they have a
responsibility to do something about it. This defensiveness therefore presents serious
8 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
obstacles to engaging meaningfully with men about violence against women, and is
important for prevention work to anticipate and prepare for.
Shifting the focus
A regular occurrence within the focus groups was the topic of conversation being shifted
from men’s violence against women to men’s victimisation, often quickly after a cam-
paign was shown:
My first thought of that, and I’ve seen it before and I was thinking that, it’s only focused on
men, being the perpetrators of domestic violence. Obviously it’s probably more common for
physical violence to be, carried out by men, but women can just as easily, create the mental sort
of stuff, that was going on. (Isaac)
The discussion would also move in this direction in response to stand-alone questions,
or pre-emptively near the beginning of the sessions, demonstrating a wider sense of
grievance about the issue among several of the young men. The speed and frequency
with which the emphasis was often switched suggested a knee-jerk response to being
confronted with the realities of violence against women, rather than necessarily always
reflecting a genuine concern for male victim-survivors. Shifting focus may have thus
enabled deflection from contemplating the issue of men’s violence.
Some participants felt men’s experiences of partner violence to be a ‘hidden’ social
problem, such as with one of the first comments made in one group:
I’m pretty sure that I’ve seen some stuff . . . coming up lately about, how everything’s aimed
at, as was just said . . . male-on-female violence, rather than, the other way round, which does
exist . . . while I guess men wouldn’t go and report it if they were, cause it’s the stigma attached
to it. (Zack)
Yet despite this perception of invisibility, men’s victimisation often became central to
the discussions. There were some particularly detailed conversations about violence per-
petrated by women, at times suggesting a degree of fixation with this topic. For instance,
in one group, Jonas instigated a lengthy debate by asking:
If there were no repercussions, and it was an environment where no one else saw, so no one else
knew what happened, not necessarily you but . . . whether you think, you can’t think of any
arguments why it wouldn’t be okay, if a woman hit you, X hard, do you think that, just because
you’re a man, you shouldn’t be able to hit her back at the exact same level?
It is vital to create opportunities for men and boys to explore their own vulnerabili-
ties (something which can be impermissible within masculine peer groups), including
ways in which they can be victims of violence. However, often this issue was raised in
a combative way, akin to how men’s experiences of abuse can be utilised by ‘men’s
rights’ groups as a tool to delegitimise feminist frameworks (Flood et al., 2020). Such
perspectives can foster misconceptions which were sometimes vocalised by partici-
pants, such as that partner violence is experienced by men and women equally. The
Burrell 9
focus groups demonstrated the importance of navigating beyond these deflections.
While it is important to recognise that men can also be subjected to partner abuse, shift-
ing the focus often serves to obfuscate and neutralise crucial conversations about men’s
violence, and take attention away from the gendered dynamics of abuse, which also
shape the experiences of male victim-survivors.
Naturalising men’s violence
Another recurring theme interpreted as a defensive response was the naturalisation of the
problem through the construction of partner violence as a biological inevitability
(McCarry and Lombard, 2016). When asked why they thought partner violence is so
pervasive, several participants resorted to explanations which emphasised ‘natural’, bio-
logical, or evolutionary differences between women and men, such as physical size and
strength, or hormonal tendencies towards aggression in men.
Daniel: It seems to be, to some extent intrinsic. I mean you look at most things,
social issues, and you look at how long they’ve been social issues, and
you can go a long way to reduce the harm, of things like this, but you can
never really truly eradicate them.
Christian: It sounds really horrible to say, but maybe it’s, not part of human nature,
but maybe just a biological-
Bruce: Innate sort of-
Christian: Innate sort of thing. Like you see it all the time . . . animals dominate
other animals for particular things . . .
This conversation demonstrates how naturalisation often involves men being taken to
represent humanity as a whole, as well as mitigating men’s responsibility for violence
against women. By viewing violence as to some extent unpreventable, participants also
absolved themselves or society of an obligation to do something about it. That is why
these naturalising views were interpreted as defensive, because by suggesting that some
men will always perpetrate abuse, participants both rationalised such behaviour and sep-
arated themselves from those who enact it. It also highlighted a cognitive dissonance, in
which partner violence was simultaneously perceived as based upon both coercive con-
trol and uncontrollable physical aggression.
In conversations about women’s use of violence, participants appeared keener to
accentuate the agency of the perpetrator. For example, in the following quote about a
video on social media, Robin placed significant emphasis on the woman’s actions:
He got into an argument with this girl, and this girl was just punching him, hitting him hitting
him hitting him, beating the shit out of him, and then he, just pushed her, and she went through
a window, and . . . it really split, opinions.
This connects to how violence by women can often be presented as particularly
shocking and fascinating due to its deviation from feminine norms, while men’s violence
is perceived as normal, ‘natural’ masculine behaviour, and minimised as a result (Naylor,
2001).
10 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
Disassociation from the problem
The final key defensive response interpreted within the focus groups was that of disas-
sociation, in which men detach themselves from violence against women by viewing the
problem as one which lies only with those who directly commit it, and has little to do
with men more broadly (Burrell, 2020). First, the young men often appeared to perceive
partner violence as something with little relevance to their lives, with an implied incon-
ceivability that they or anyone they knew could have anything to do with it:
I don’t think any of my friends when we were like, 14 or 15, would do something like the guy
was doing to his girlfriend or something, at least to that extreme, you know? (Emilio)
For instance, participants often appeared to view partner violence as a problem for
‘adult’ relationships in conjugal settings. This was despite several of the campaigns
focusing on young people, and participants expressing awareness about sexual vio-
lence and ‘lad culture’ at university. This demonstrates that theoretically understanding
a problem does not necessarily result in connecting it to one’s own social world, as
well as the need for more awareness to be raised about the issue of partner violence at
universities.
Second, participants disassociated themselves from the problem by associating part-
ner violence with ‘other’ men. For example, it was suggested that perpetrators of abuse
are somehow inherently deviant, with Barney asserting that ‘some people are just scum-
bags’. Some differentiated their social groups and positions from those of men who com-
mit violence, for example, by claiming that because they were highly educated and
attending an elite university, partner violence was something separate from their lives:
I think I can call us educated young men . . . I mean for us, we see these things and we go, yeah,
obviously, common sense, don’t hit women. So I think we’re actually quite fortunate in that
we’re exposed to this kind of, you know like, moral, sort of thing . . . so we see that and go,
yeah obviously. (Liam)
The implication was that prevention campaigns were not really needed for their privi-
leged social group. This illustrates how violence can be othered, through the notion that
it is an ‘outside’ or ‘less civilised’ group that is the problem (Montoya and Agustín,
2013). For instance, several participants were unable to comprehend that sexual harass-
ment could take place in public on a bus in England, even if they felt it could in ‘non-
Western’ countries, demonstrating how violence against women can be exoticised as a
‘cultural’ problem, specific to postcolonial societies (Chantler and Gangoli, 2011).
Third, many of the participants distanced themselves from the patriarchal relations
that underpin partner violence. Most overtly, this was manifested in denials of gender
inequality altogether, which was again sometimes naturalised as if this too has some
inescapable basis in human biology, or by simply avoiding it as a topic of discussion. On
other occasions, participants downplayed or struggled to see the relevance of gender
inequality to partner violence, or to a supposedly ‘post-feminist’ English society (O’Neill,
2015).
Burrell 11
Respect’s the key issue, so if they’re both respecting each other then . . . there’s no reason for
that to lead to abuse. Like I say, my grandparents, they did have those [traditional gender]
dynamics, and . . . it didn’t railroad them into abuse or anything so, well actually, if anything,
from my granddad’s point of view he’s less likely, to be abusive towards, my grandmother,
because it’s his job, to protect her, not to do that kind of thing. (Barney)
Instances of sexism were often discussed in a reductionist way, in which they were
minimised to specific individual incidents deemed unworthy of attention. For example,
conversations about phrases like ‘don’t throw like a girl’ became focused on the extent
to which they are harmful in particular sports settings, reducing the conversation to the
specificities of that single case and divorcing it from its wider context:
In sport, yeah, calling someone a pussy, so what? You called them a pussy, it’s a colloquialism
. . . it’s an informal, throwaway comment. (Dean)
Sometimes participants did recognise the impacts of gender inequalities, but this was
typically in broad, abstract ways, disconnected from their own lives. This points to what
Bridges and Pascoe (2014) describe as the construction of hybrid masculinities, in which
men may overtly recognise gendered injustices, while doing little to actually challenge
them. This highlights the need for patriarchy to be made personal within prevention
work; to develop critical consciousness among men about how it relates to their own
varied lives, positions, and practices; and to cultivate a collective sense of ownership for
creating change (Watt, 2007).
The influence of collective masculine norms
The reproduction of restrictive, dominating constructions of masculinity is another key
aspect of complicity in violence against women. However, as with gender inequality,
masculinity was often notably absent from the discussions, with the young men appear-
ing reluctant to relate violence to issues of manhood, or contemplate that men might have
a particular role to play in preventing partner abuse. When issues of masculinity were
raised, participants sometimes found it difficult to express themselves clearly or grasp
how it might connect with the problem. Some did still bring gender norms into the con-
versation, for example, regarding participants’ experiences of oppressive and sexist ele-
ments of masculine cultures in university and sports environments, such as punishments
received if they lose to a woman at games like pool.
However, perhaps influenced by fears about how the group would respond, these
critical reflections were typically made indirectly, and in relation to other men than them-
selves, focusing on more ‘extreme’ examples of macho behaviour, typified with the label
of ‘lad culture’. They appeared to find it harder to openly question their own gendered
practices, or consider how less exaggerated expressions of masculinity can also connect
to male dominance. This demonstrates how placing attention on ‘hyper’ forms of mascu-
linity (such as ‘lad culture’) can sometimes help men to externalise the problem, and
position oneself as separate from other men where the problem is deemed to lie, while
leaving one’s own practices unscrutinised.
12 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
The discussions appeared to be shaped substantially by masculine group dynamics in
what went said and unsaid. The young men appeared to tentatively ‘test’ ideas out among
one another before pursuing them more freely, and often seemed to be in steered in cer-
tain directions by one another, with few dissenting voices. The following conversation,
in which aggressive behaviour became normalised as a feature of masculinity, was one
example of this:
When you’re talking about smashing plates, I’ve not had, an argument like that before, but
that’s something I could see myself doing, if I got really pissed off.
Yeah . . .
Really?
Just because I’d . . . I don’t think I’d ever take it out on, my partner, but definitely I think I, you
know, have a tendency to break things when I do get a bit . . .
Mad, yeah . . .
Get really angry, like-
As a way of alleviating your stress . . .
Exactly, yeah.
In one group, a participant regularly expressed strong anti-feminist, masculinist views,
and often dominated the discussion. His peers appeared to be influenced by this, in the
language they used, the issues they focused on, and how often they agreed with him:
Dean: What if he turns around and pulls out a gun or something? Or pulls out a
knife? Or says right, get outside . . . even if it’s fists, what if he goes, alright,
we’ll have a fight, and we go outside and he kicks your head in? It’s not
worth getting involved.
Keith: Fair enough it’s daytime, and it’s a crowded bus, but, if it was at night, a
night bus, you’re the only three passengers . . .
Dean: Yeah!
Keith: Like myself I probably wouldn’t do anything . . .
Dean’s repeated claims that too much attention is placed on violence against women
and not enough on men’s victimisation meant that the group had to constantly acknowl-
edge that anyone could be a victim of abuse. Discussions about issues which did not fit
this dynamic, such as men’s role in preventing violence, were largely shut down or
avoided.
The focus groups thus illustrated the mediating role that men’s peer groups (and
sometimes, a single dominant group member) can play in shaping how they respond to
prevention campaigns, reflecting wider social processes in which collective masculine
Burrell 13
expectations can limit what men feel able to express. Participants may have therefore
articulated quite different views in one-to-one interviews, where they would not have
had to worry about how their peers might respond. Another example of this was how the
young men seemed to struggle to articulate empathy with women’s experiences. For
instance, they sometimes appeared unable to comprehend or believe reports about vio-
lence against women, or expressed doubts about its pervasiveness. Several participants
questioned how the woman in the EIGE video reacted to the harassment she was sub-
jected to:
She was just sort of like, ‘yeah alright’. Whereas I can’t really imagine someone doing that, if
you’re on a crowded bus, and someone starts coming up and touching your face, it’s not gonna
be: ‘okay, could you stop please?’ It’s gonna be: ‘get the hell off me!’ (Emilio)
In part, this may reflect a lack of awareness about how people often respond when
being subjected to harassment or abuse, out of fear, and self-preservation, for instance.
However, it may also point to a reluctance to openly empathise with women’s experi-
ences among their peers, for fear that this would defy masculine group norms.
Yet some of the participants were also critical of prevention campaigns utilising nor-
mative ideas of masculinity to appeal to men (such as the notion that ‘real men don’t hit
women’; Salter, 2016). Tyler felt that reinforcing gender norms rather than trying to
deconstruct them ‘probably does more harm than good’, given how they feed into partner
violence itself. They appeared to feel annoyed that assumptions might be made about
them as young men and how to engage with them based on masculine stereotypes.
However, others did not have a problem with this approach: ‘I’d still say that most men,
don’t think it’s a bad thing, would still, identify with trying to be manly in that sense’
(Eric). This demonstrates that prevention campaigns must think carefully about how they
represent gender, and the extent to which it is helpful to encourage the idea that men
should ‘try to be manly’, even as a way of gaining their support.
For example, several participants discussed whether they felt they would intervene to
stop public sexual harassment. There was sometimes an assumption here that ‘bystander
intervention’ requires a degree of physical stature (i.e. achieving hegemonic standards of
masculinity) to be effective:
Yeah they should step up, but if the guy had, if someone attacks them, they’re not in the best
position to defend themselves, and they’re gonna have to rely on other people around them as
well, or just, be quite lucky or something like that. And then yeah, I feel like, I’d be more likely
to step in, and less afraid of the physical repercussions against me . . . than I expect is the
average. (Barney)
The implication was that it is because of their masculinised physical strength that
young men should act in such circumstances, rather than because of a commitment to
anti-violence and gender equality. Prevention campaigns which emphasise men ‘inter-
vening’ might therefore risk bolstering their attachments to hegemonic masculinities
(Connell, 2005) by encouraging the performance of masculine bravado, and indeed of
superiority over women with the notion that men should ‘protect’ women from other
men, rather than acting in solidarity with them (Carlson, 2008).
14 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
Expressions of resistance to men’s violence
In contrast with the reproduction of complicity, there were also a number of instances in
which the young men articulated active resistance to patriarchy and dominant masculine
norms. For example, while most participants in Dean’s group went along with his anti-
feminist assertions, one repeatedly questioned them. This led to tense disagreements
between the two:
Dean: It begs a question of why would you wear something so provocative . . . if
you’re not looking for some sort of, I don’t know, sexual kind of, verifica-
tion from men or something? [noises of agreement]
David: But I think raping someone isn’t an example of sexual verification . . .
regardless of anything, women should be able to wear what they want, I
don’t think it should be a discussion . . .
These interventions demonstrate the bravery and resilience that can be necessary for
young people to challenge their peers about sexist behaviours. It also underscores the
contradictions within the focus groups, where participants reinforced legitimisations of
violence against women in one conversation and critiqued them in another. These ambig-
uous positions may reflect cognitive dissonances about gender among many young men
in contemporary English society, which have also been found in multi-country survey
research (Heilman et al., 2017). While they continue to learn to be men and to see the
world through the lenses of patriarchal social institutions from which they derive struc-
tural advantages, the social impacts of feminist movements mean many young men also
develop some degree of awareness, and sense of injustice, about the oppression of women.
Several participants felt that violence prevention work can play an important role in
illuminating alternative ways of looking at the world and galvanising insights and oppor-
tunities for creating change, not least on a practical basis, by illustrating how one can go
about challenging sexist practices (Carmody, 2013).
The objectification of women is entirely normalised, you’re not gonna change that unless you,
sit someone down and go, well look . . . this is what you think, is it actually right? Because as
a society probably, if it’s normalised, you have to challenge it to change it. (Bruce)
Sometimes participants viewed these forms of resistance pessimistically, because
even if they disagreed with behaviours among their peers, they were unwilling to defy
group norms, or felt that the effects would be minimal. This highlights the significant
step required for men to move from opposition to sexism in principle to actively speak-
ing out about it (Carlson, 2008):
Ugo: It wouldn’t make a difference, if I stood there and turned to a group of, lads
in the bar and said, nah I’m not gonna do it ’cause it’s wrong. They’re not
all gonna go, yeah god you’re right, we’ll never do it again, they’re all just
gonna go-
Robin: We never saw it that way, yeah.
Ugo: Exactly, and they know I’m not gonna do it, for that reason.
Burrell 15
This cynicism seemed to permit the young men to stay silent, not least by ignoring
how several of their peers actually agreed that these behaviours were wrong, and that
there might be potential for collective action on this basis.
Yet, there were also occasions in which participants put into practice challenging their
teammates. In one group, there was a lengthy discussion about men’s experiences of
violence being ignored, until another member of the group interjected in a way that
shifted the conversation’s direction:
This is very egotistical though, I mean there are also many many ways that women are,
significantly disadvantaged, to us, here, as white males. (Henry)
While there is no way of knowing the extent to which the participants take action
against sexism and misogyny outside the focus groups, it was notable that many did
recognise why resisting men’s violence against women is so important. It highlights the
potential young men have to embrace ‘everyday’ anti-sexist activism in their lives and to
create change within themselves and others. This expands our ability to hold men to
account for inaction, because while taking a stand may be difficult, the bar is raised if
some of their peers are already doing so.
Discussion
I sought to create a relaxed, safe, and supportive environment within the focus groups to
encourage meaningful, open discussion, and the atmosphere was generally respectful,
sincere, and friendly. However, participants also highlighted the importance of context,
implying that their behaviour might have differed in this more formal environment to
elsewhere. Some talked about the benefits of being in a small, single-sex group, which
may have helped them explore their experiences with greater depth and honesty.
Nonetheless, there was typically a sense of nervousness when the sessions began,
with participants appearing unsure about how to act within a discussion about a topic
often perceived as a ‘women’s issue’, where expressing opinions could risk betraying
hegemonic norms. They seemed to look to each other to gauge the appropriate way to
behave in this masculine context, and what they could say without leaving themselves
exposed. This unease usually dissipated as each participant became engaged in the dis-
cussion and it became clear that it was acceptable for them to do so. However, at times
they still seemed hesitant about coming across like they cared ‘too much’ about issues
like partner violence, highlighting the fragility of the constant struggle to preserve mas-
culine status within men’s peer groups.
Notably, participants often expressed gratitude for having the opportunity to take part
in the focus groups, pointing out that they had rarely had the chance to meaningfully
discuss issues around relationships, gender, and violence prevention previously. While it
was difficult to get the young men ‘through the door’, once a safe, supportive environ-
ment had been created they appeared to genuinely value taking part. This demonstrates
the importance of creating spaces for conversations on these issues, including through
both anti-violence campaigns and more in-depth prevention work, to help young men
understand how gender influences their lives, and equip them with the skills to challenge
16 Sociological Research Online 00(0)
patriarchal norms and inequalities. It shows the potential that focus groups have as a
form of action research, and their value within critical masculinities scholarship, where
understanding group dynamics and interactions is pivotal. It is important to recognise,
however, that sports teams are a unique and particularly masculinised setting, though this
was also a relatively privileged group of young men who may have been skilled in saying
‘the right thing’. This highlights the need to conduct more research with diverse groups
of men and boys, to continue developing understandings of how they make sense of
violence prevention campaigns and programmes.
The focus groups suggested that the perceptions the young men held in relation to
violence against women were often conflicted and contradictory. At least superficially,
they did at times enact what could be viewed as ‘inclusive masculinities’ (Anderson and
McCormack, 2018), in the seriousness with which they treated intimate partner violence
and their willingness to critique social legitimisations of it. However, in many ways, they
also reproduced complicity with men’s violence and patriarchal relations, or recognised
how they had done so in their lives, not least by responding defensively when these
power relations were made explicit or questioned.
This demonstrates the limitations of focusing on and problematising (or indeed valor-
ising) particular abstract ‘forms’ of masculinities (McCarry, 2007). Men can construct
and perform different masculinities in different contexts (shaped by factors such as pres-
sure from their peers), and the problem is much greater than specific ‘versions’ of these.
For example, violence against women on university campuses, and complicity in it, is
not limited to those young men enacting ‘laddish’ forms of masculinity, even if these
may be hegemonic, not least given that this violence can also be perpetrated by staff, for
example. ‘Lad culture’ can provide a valuable entry point to conversations about mascu-
line norms, but the relative palatability of the concept to the participants may be because
it enables attention to be placed ‘elsewhere’, rather than on men’s practices more broadly.
This research thus demonstrates that we need to look critically at the ‘hegemony of
men’ more widely and directly within patriarchal systems (Hearn, 2012); of which a core
feature is the ways in which the masculine is defined as superior to the feminine, a hier-
archical relation which is then naturalised in ways that make men’s violence seem nor-
mal and inevitable. Men cannot simply detach themselves from these structures of
gendered power, no matter which ‘forms’ of masculinity they put into practice. However,
they can resist them – and the idea that they should adhere to any set of expectations
about ‘being a man’ – in their everyday lives, and this is fundamental to preventing men’s
violence against women. In addition to complicity, some of the participants enacted this
resistance at times within the focus groups, demonstrating the potential that men and
boys have to create change in themselves and in wider society.
Acknowledgements
The author is very grateful to all of the young men who gave up their time to take part in this study,
and who voluntarily took the step to engage in discussions about preventing men’s violence against
women. He would also like to thank Professor Nicole Westmarland (Durham University) for her
support and guidance with this research, and the Sociological Research Online editors and peer
reviewers for their invaluable help in developing the paper.
Burrell 17
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship,
and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/
or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Economic and Social Research
Council (grant numbers 1448235, ES/T006161/1).
ORCID iD
Stephen R Burrell https://orcid.org/0000-0002-2447-0272
Note
1. The videos are available to watch online: Home Office (2010; https://youtu.be/RzDr18UYO18),
Home Office (2016; https://youtu.be/ObvC12uJa6A), Australian Government (2016; https://
youtu.be/wjBfU-bfGII), End Violence Against Women (EVAW) Coalition (2011; https://
youtu.be/ZYhaodUPqSU), and European Institute for Gender Equality (EIGE, 2016; https://
youtu.be/SKVWSGvaLds).
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Author biography
Stephen R Burrell is an Assistant Professor (Research) in the Department of Sociology at Durham
University, UK, where he is a Deputy Director of the Centre for Research into Violence and Abuse
(CRiVA). His research focuses on critical studies on men and masculinities, and, in particular,
work with men and boys to prevent gender-based violence. He is currently undertaking a
Leverhulme Trust Early Career Fellowship exploring connections between the climate crisis and
masculine violence, and engaging men and boys in building more caring relationships with the
environment.
Date submitted 18 May 2021
Date accepted 8 September 2021
