Meet Pete McMartin, a Canadian journalist. He wrote for the Vancouver Sun, and also for the paper of a town called “Regina,” which sounds nice because it is a lady name. No other information was available on Pete McMartin, largely because I didn’t look past the first few results on Google. But it seems like things were going pretty well for him! Until he entered: THE SEXUAL HARASSMENT OP-ED WRITTEN BY A DUDE ZONE. A world of terror and wonder, where even the most inoffensive man cannot apparently venture without being transformed into something profoundly creepy.

The headline for this particular piece, when it ran in Vancouver, was apparently “By human rights, do you mean that includes bleached blondes, too?” Which is how you know it’s going to turn out well. The mere (Canadian?) sentence construction of the headline alone promises wonders! (“With respect to Canadians, are there extra clauses and words too, because of headline conventions, and how headlines are written, also, eh?”) (And that’s the story of how Sady was assassinated by the Lady of Maple Vengeance, known to most by her cover identity, “Margaret Atwood.”) The headline when it ran in Regina and/or showed up on my Google reader is far less offensive (“Swine, sharks, looks — and human rights”), except for how this apparently also ran in Regina. And here’s how it starts:

For the benefit of female readers — and I write this as if you didn’t already know — here is the truth about men: Men are swine. Awww. Cheer up, buttercup! No need for the self-flagellation! Here, take my bell hooks books, you can learn a lot about handling privilege…

This fact has survived the feminist revolution, which men applaud, by the way, because now their wives and partners can go out and get jobs and work themselves into an early grave just as men have traditionally done, plus there is the added bonus of a second income that now allows men to go out and buy that motorcycle they always promised themselves when they turned 40.

Oh. I see. IT’S THAT KIND OF THING. Yes, Mr. Pete goes on to inform us that “men are liars,” that men are incapable of understanding or caring about what women say because “mostly, they’re wondering what she looks like without her clothes on,” that all men who say they do not do this are lying, that “objectification” is a funny word invented by feminists because we look so cute when we’re angry, and that any man who actually doesn’t objectify women, instead of lying about the fact that he doesn’t, “is either (a) medicated, or (b) gay.” But, like the man said, “men: swine and liars.” No use getting mad and calling names, ladies! He has done it already! He has done it for you, because men are better.

This is the “I’m Such A Dick” Gambit. And before we proceed, it is time to discuss. For the “I’m Such a Dick” Gambit, aside from being the world’s Number One Most Popular Rhetorical Device To Open Your Sexist Op-Ed With, is also one of the more fearsome and annoying weapons of psychological warfare in existence.

It seems so simple, really. The first party — let’s call him Dick — opens up his statement with an avowal of dickery. As for example, “I know this might make me sound like a jerk, but,” or “this is kind of an asshole thing to say, but,” or, in the classic form, “maybe I’m a dick, but.” Note that this confession is rarely done with the sort of regret or sorrow one might expect from a person who questions his capacity for kindness or human decency; rather, it’s done with a smile, as if to suggest that this is a hilarious, endearing, and ultimately minor flaw in the otherwise non-stop parade of awesome that is his personality. (And if the confession is made with any degree of sadness, watch out. Chances are that you are dealing with a Level Two Dick, or “Pity Dick,” who is shielded from critique by his own poor self-esteem, forged from the fires of Hell into an unstoppable weapon that lets him get away with basically anything, because if you’re mean he might cry.) Once the hook is set — I’m such a dick! Do you not find me charming? — the player will then say something that is harsh, judgmental, nasty, and/or dickish.

And here’s the fun part: There’s nothing you can do. We have already established that this person is an asshole; he admits to it. We’ve also established that being an asshole is funny and cool. Your choices are to laugh along, congratulate him on his discernment — wow, people who aren’t Dick really ARE losers, aren’t they? — or RUIN EVERYTHING FOREVER BECAUSE YOU’RE MEAN AND HATE FUN. Magically, by admitting that he is a total prick sometimes, Dick has managed to leave you, the person who objects to his behavior, holding the bag. He took a chance; he told you what he really thought; now you are overreacting. It seems like you just don’t get it. Plus, by establishing the options of “I’m a dick” or “I’m totally correct in every detail and must receive unconditional support from all human beings,” Dick has managed to ensure that anyone who disagrees with him has basically called him names. Granted, he chose the names that you are now implicitly calling him. But still! Dick is a sensitive guy! He doesn’t have to take this abuse from you! What are you, a monster?





There is a reason that every single article published on this continent and in Britain which could basically run with the headline “I Oppress Women: Let Me Show You How” — and there are A LOT of these articles — starts with the “I’m Such a Dick” Gambit. It is not because this is how sexism works. Women do the “I’m Such a Bitch” thing, too. And sexism is a whole different, complicated, structural dealio. It is because this is how jerks work. The “I’m Such a Dick” Gambit is the leading sign that the person you are dealing with is going to say something awful.

Such as?

A young, attractive woman by the name of Karolina Bil launched a complaint with the B.C. Human Rights Tribunal against the Shark Club in Richmond, her former, and short-tenured, place of work. Bil quit days after being hired as a bartender because, she claimed, she was discriminated against for being instructed to wear mini-skirts, high heels and tops that revealed cleavage. She said she was also exposed to sexist remarks from customers.

Now: Let’s see whether we can make this all her fault, shall we? For example, did you notice that she is young? And also, attractive? Because Pete McMartin sure did! Why, there’s a good fifty percent of an article to be wrung out of THESE FACTS ALONE! If you are Pete McMartin. Which, if you are: Please stop.

Now, the first clue for Bil that the Shark Club may not have been the right fit for her employment-wise, if she was dress-code sensitive, would be the fact that it was named the “Shark Club” and not “Mom’s Family Diner.”

Because, true fact: Sharks love titties. Most of your large marine predators, in fact, are total boob fiends! Ah, the wonders of nature.

The second clue that might have told her that the Shark Club would not be a good fit for someone sensitive to discrimination was the appearance of the other servers at the Shark Club, all of whom were young, attractive females and who Bil, a blond, described as all having bleached blond hair. (Meeowwww!)

Okay, first, of all, I think we need to acknowledge what just happened there. Because we all saw it. Yes, that’s right: A dude did the “meow” thing. As a joke. Because he thought folks would find it funny. There are a lot of plausible explanations for this — time travel, raised in a basement on bad TV, Pete McMartin is the Canadian op-ed writing pseudonym of your gross uncle Larry, etc. — but me, I prefer to go for the obvious. Pete McMartin is clearly three hundred years old. Pete McMartin is a vampire.

Oh, and also: WHAT? I mean: I imagine this made sense, to someone. Someone had to look at this and perceive a clear and logical chain of argument, suitable to persuade and provoke readers. But I swear to you, I have looked at it seventeen times now, and here is what I see:

IF Karolina Bil objects to sexual harassment, AND Karolina Bil is attractive to Pete McMartin, AND other servers look like Karolina Bil, THEN Karolina Bil was not sexually harrassed, ALSO sharks.

Like: Other people would at least make the “she consented to sexual comments by working in a highly sexualized environment” defense. (Because, yeah. Place looks gross.) Or the “she agreed to the dress code by signing her employment contract” thing. Or SOMETHING. It would still be wrong, mind you. You can’t legally take away someone’s right to withhold consent for sexual or sexualized interactions; that is a human right (that includes bleached blondes too, also) and not a legal one. But it would be a chain of logic, however nasty. There is literally nothing about the Shark Club’s policies or dress code here, largely because I suspect it wouldn’t support Pete McMartin’s real argument. Which appears to be: If there are ladies in a place, and they’re hot, nothing you do to them counts as sexual harassment. Because of how they are hot, duh. If you’re so uninterested in Pete McMartin’s sexual advances, then why is Pete McMartin attracted to you, HMMMM? Answer that! Sharks!

And that, my friends, is when it REALLY starts to get wacky.

Now, many women looking for work would take one look inside the door of the Shark Club and think “Not my kind of joint,” and walk the other way… Yet Bil did not do so. Even more oddly, she did not take issue with the fact that she was hired in the first place precisely because she was young, attractive and female.

It’s true; young, conventionally attractive, female people fucking dominate the job market. You can tell, because of how they tend to own all those Fortune 500 companies. Meanwhile, the older, baggier variety of white man cannot catch a break! Where are HIS tables to wait? HIS bars on which to dance for the salacious entertainment of drunk tourists? HIS bright orange hot pants? When will the tyranny of hot chicks finally be overthrown? WHEN, Pete McMartin asks you?!??

That is, once she was in the door, she took issue with one kind of discrimination, as she saw it, but had no problem with taking advantage of or was blind to another (and to me, worse) kind of discrimination in the service industry that got her in the door in the first place — the kind that discriminates in favour of beauty.



Yes, sexual harassment is nothing. Not compared to the kind of discrimination that the hot exercise! Behold its wondrous powers: Merely by being hot, Bil was hired, and gained the incomparable privilege of… being sexually harrassed? Which she said she didn’t want? And which was apparently upsetting enough for her to sue?

Let’s update the chain of logic here:

IF Karolina Bil objects to sexual harassment, AND Karolina Bil is attractive to Pete McMartin, AND other servers look like Karolina Bil, THEN Karolina Bil was not sexually harrassed, BECAUSE sexual harassment is awesome, AND a rare, much-coveted privilege, THEREFORE sharks.

Okay! I think that we are on the same page! It is a page in the book “HIGH OCTANE WACKY: The Gleebleflork Wonderthoughts of Pete McMartin, Dream Wizard,” granted, but whatever. Let us move on! To the rousing conclusion!