Here's a question. When you think of sexual discrimination laws, do you automatically think of equal rights or women's rights? If your instinctive honest answer is women's rights, how long does it take to correct yourself?

A group of caretakers and tradesmen, originally employed by Swansea Metropolitan University, which merged with the University of Wales Trinity Saint David (UWTSD) last year, is suing their employers for more than £700,000 for sexual discrimination, claiming that for years they have been paid less than female counterparts (library assistants, secretaries).

Their solicitor, Paul Doran, who has represented women in similar pay disputes, says that the case is unusual. "Here we have men who are alleging that they are the ones who are being discriminated against when compared with female colleagues on the same pay grade."

Unusual is one way of putting it. For me, initially at least, it was jarring.

Why did this take me aback? It was slightly strange to see burly guys in overalls and safety helmets claiming to be victims of sexual discrimination, but that soon passed. If it turns out that the men have been underpaid, one could only sympathise with their grievance, and commend them for fighting their corner. What rankled went deeper (and weirder) than that. It was something that I knew was wrong, illogical, unfair, even as I felt it.

That feeling was: what are men (any men!) doing using legislation that was brought in to help women?

As I say, wrong, illogical, unfair. Sexual discrimination legislation wasn't brought in just to help women – it was to enforce equality for everybody, regardless of gender. Those men, and any others, have every right to bring sexual discrimination cases.

Still there it was – the flicker of surprise, even irritation, at seeing a "female" law being used to protect the interests of men. So what's going on? Am I just a big old female sexist, someone who covertly, and perhaps not so covertly, believes that sexual discrimination in the workplace and everywhere else is a one-way street? Are people like myself really as supportive of equal rights (as opposed simply to women's rights) as we like to think we are?

While sexual discrimination laws belong to everybody, does everybody truly feels that way? Or, like me, do they tend to see only the female point of view – excluding the male, because we feel that men could never be victims of sexual discrimination in quite the same way?

Historically, this legislation was the preserve of women. Moreover, in employment terms, there are still biases against women (the massive earnings dip that comes with having children; the mere possibility of having children). Few could seriously deny that sexual discrimination remains predominantly a women's issue.

Perhaps this explains the atmosphere of farce and embarrassment surrounding men and sexual discrimination suits – that they're somehow being ridiculous, even "unmanly", to turn to such laws.

An underlying insinuation is that they're "trying it on", subverting and exploiting important hard-won "women's rights" for their own ends.

It could be that part of the problem lies with the tiny but highly vocal minority of men who appear to operate a crude and provocative good for the goose/good for the gander sex wars agenda. Which, in turn, makes women feel somewhat protective and tribal about "female-friendly" laws.

Maybe this explains why people, myself included, are instinctively taken aback to see men using sexual discrimination arguments.

Momentarily, it could register as an opportunistic misuse of valuable "female" resources. Obviously there is a middle ground here – where women acknowledge that men have every right to such legislation and men promise not to abuse it.

In the meantime, I'll work on not being a big old female sexist.

Let the earth move for Rutlanders

My parents won't be seeing me for a while – it's too dangerous. They live in Rutland, site of the recent earthquakes. The quakes, as I now insist on calling them, were centred on Oakham, where I went to sixth-form college; my parents live a few miles away.

During the "terror", as I refer to it, my father said that a glass of water slightly wobbled on the kitchen table. So it would be very dangerous for me to visit them right now. What if it happened again? What if I saw a glass of water slightly wobble on the kitchen table? These things never leave you.

The first Oakham quake was 3.2 in magnitude and the second was 3.5. While I have no idea what these figures mean, and frankly can't be razzed to look into it, clearly Armageddon looms over Rutland like never before.

Maybe you think I'm overplaying this, but perhaps Rutland is under-playing it. This is their moment, a chance for Rutlanders to carve out a new identity. Surviving an earthquake, or, ahem, knowing someone who did, gives "Rutters" much-needed street cred. Suddenly, the widely mocked smallest county is on a par with Indonesia, Japan, California, all the major quake territories.

The people of Rutland should stop being so down to earth and unruffled and ham it up. Local Conservative MP Alan Duncan should call for calm, even though there's already nothing but boring old calm. Ordinary folk should agree to being interviewed only if they can be covered in dust, holding lumps of rubble and rescued pets.

Come on Rutland, this is your chance to shine. Don't tell me that those glasses of water wobbled slightly for nothing.

A hairy face has absolutely no place in my heart

Australian researchers have discovered something called "peak beard". This is when people see so many beards that they desire the clean-shaven look (the reverse also appears to be true). Beards also have a fashion food chain: starting off adorning the beauteous A-list visages of Christian Bale, Ryan Gosling and Tom Hardy, then becoming steadily less fashionable and desirable as they're adopted by the mainstream.

I'm not sure about peak beard. I think most women would peak at the sight of one beard, or perhaps even fewer. Basically, most beards suck, making men look as though they're in the throes of a slow-motion nervous breakdown. Or, as if they have something to hide, usually breakfast.

Unless they're growing the gross face-fuzz for charity, men shouldn't inflict their follicular affectations on women. It's not as if women don't have their own facial hair to contend with – some of us fight a lifelong losing battle not to erupt into the "full Frida Kahlo" and you don't hear us bragging about it. If there is such a thing as peak beard, then there might be such a thing as beard-hate – and I fear I'm probably suffering from it.