Taking It Like A Man

When Norah Vincent decided to live as a man for eighteen months, what she learned took her by surprise.

As an American feminist – and lesbian – she expected to find out that the male sex were every bit as beastly as the legends of “patriarchy” proclaim.

So, she had her appearance radically altered: stuck artificial stubble on her chin: had her breasts flattened with a special sports bra: and went off into the world as a guy. She worked as a man: went to strip clubs with male buddies: took up male sports: even joined a monastery for a short time. She called herself “Ned” and was easily accepted in public life as a man.

And a man in New York, she found that it was often women who were the nasty sex. As a man she was constantly rebuffed and rejected by women, who showed casual arrogance and contempt. She discovered that the world, in general, is not particularly nice to males: the kindness, special treatment and even respect she had received as a woman quite disappeared.

She took other women on dates, and was bored rigid by the stream of trivial chatter to which she was subjected. “Listening to [some women},” she wrote, “was like undergoing a slow frontal lobotomy.”

By contrast, she found that men in groups were “remarkably warm and inclusive, and much more genuine than women”. Once a bloke shook hands with you as a buddy, Norah found, you were established as his mate.

She found that men together not only bonded well, but showed no prejudice towards others who were different. In all-male groups, there was a surprising - to her – lack of racism.

Ms Vincent concluded that men often have a tougher life than women, because society in less pleasant to them: although between chaps there is always that element of the “band of brothers”.

Useful research, which the lady is now publishing in a book – “Self-Made Man” – but any mother of sons could have told Norah all she has learned.

Contrary to what Tammy Wynette warbles – sometimes it’s hard to be a man. The mothers of sons can see all the difficulties that young men encounter: and that is why not all women buy the theory that the ills of the world are down to some wicked patriarchy.

For every female partisan who intones that “all men are rapists”, there are mothers – aye, and sisters and daughters, too – who respond, as in a chorus: “Oh no they’re not!” Talk to the mother of a man falsely accused of rape and you soon see the other side of the story.

There are plenty of women out there who loathe all this knee-jerk man-hating baloney that is so common in the public realm now – and is a particular feature of advertising.

There are plenty of women who know from their own family experiences that men can have it tough, and that some of the male practices we call “discrimination” are just bonding rituals to provide comfort in the jungle.

Norah Vincent has illustrated that truth with a real-life experience. She has done the world a favour.

And to be fair, many feminists do mature into this greater understanding of men’s lives and difficulties. Naomi Wolf’s latest book, The Tree House, has had a drubbing because of its apparently mushy appreciation of her father, his knowledge, love and wisdom. But having railed against “patriarchy”, Ms Wolf has come to acknowledge the contribution that men actually make to our lives.

And that is worth underlining. A friend sent me a witty round-robin e-mail last week about “Evening Classes for Men”: it drolly explained that there would be seminars on: “The Toilet Paper Roll – Doest It Change Itself?”: “Fundamental Differences Between the Laundry Hamper and the Floor”: “After Dinner Dishes – Can They Levitate and Fly Into the Kitchen Sink?”

All very waggish and sardonic: and indeed, many men seem to be hard-wired not to notice the necessity for loo rolls or other domestic concerns.

Yet every single labour-saving device that exists around the average home was invented by a man: the vacuum cleaner, the dishwasher, the micro-wave, the deep freeze: even the sodding kettle was crafted by men.

Which great bridge or viaduct, anywhere in the world, was designed by a woman?

What Norah Vincent discovered, essentially, was that men and women are good at different things. And that’s all right. And the much-demonised male sex also has a warm and generous side. So – for once - give the chaps a big hand all round, ladies.

IIrish Independent Magazine: 4 February 2006.