Faced with figures like this, it is no surprise that White Ribbon Day elicits a mixture of enthusiasm and scepticism. The White Ribbon campaign aims to mobilise men and boys against violence against women and to promote gender equality and healthy relationships. At the grassroots, there is tremendous energy and interest in bringing violence against women to an end. At the same time, the grief and frustration caused by an epidemic of gendered violence can give rise to understandable feelings of hopelessness and pessimism. How, exactly, can men and boys prevent violence against women? There are now well-articulated strategies explaining what men and boys can do to support prevention efforts. We can be conscious of the privileges that accrue to men in a sexist society; challenge misogynist behaviour; let go of gender stereotypes; intervene when you see a friend or stranger acting inappropriately; share the load of housework and child-rearing; champion gender equality at home, at work and in the community. Prevention organisations such as Our Watch, White Ribbon and VicHealth are driving programs that aim to give men and boys the skills to create equitable relationships, communities and institutions.

If we want to engage men and boys in this work, then we need a clear answer to a more fundamental question, namely: Why? Why should men and boys take action to prevent violence against women? Simply telling men and boys that we have a “responsibility” to end violence can be heard in many different, and not necessarily constructive, ways. For some men, the call to responsibility harks back to a sexist chivalry in which men are duty-bound to protect the “weaker sex” or to “respect” women as paragons of moral purity. These attitudes only reinforce the gender inequality that drives violence against women. For others, this message generates a sense of guilt or collective shame that they reject with a turn to anti-feminist “men’s rights” discourse. Refusing to acknowledge the burden of men’s violence on women, and instead insisting that men are the “real victims” (of women, of feminism, of society), is one way of assuaging guilt. Guilt and shame are poor motivators for change. A few years ago, I was speaking to an Aboriginal educator about his work with men’s groups. I asked him how he got men to engage with the issue of violence against women. He said that he started every workshop by asking the men, “What kind of father do you want to be? What kind of husband? What kind of man do you want to be?” He went on to make a comment that has always stayed with me. I return to it again and again in my anti-violence work. He said, “I've seen the hardest, hardest, most brutal-looking men reduced to tears in that very moment because everybody, I think, wants to be good.”

No boy grows up aspiring to hurt the people he cares about. We all want to live in families and communities characterised by security, warmth and trust. However, violence destroys these relationships. Violence is not a strategy in which men win and women lose. With violence, everybody loses. The reason men and boys need to help prevent violence against women is very simple. For as long as this violence persists, it will continue to eat away at the relationships that sustain us and make our lives

meaningful. To end violence against women, we need to work with people where they are at: in communities and institutions where change is needed, and even wanted, but hasn’t yet taken place. This is challenging work, because it means engaging respectfully with diverse groups who have a range of views about gender relations and equality. However, it is by bringing men and boys into the conversation that we can understand what they want out of their lives, show how violence is an obstacle to achieving those dreams, and find non-violent solutions. The best way that men can help prevent gendered violence is to collaborate with women to build families and communities we are proud to be a part of: where violence and inequality has no place, and everyone wins.