IF ONLY PATRIARCHY EXPLAINED RAPE
AMAYA PERERA
The world's most gender-equal societies continue to report troubling levels of sexual violence. The contradiction raises an uncomfortable question: if equality alone cannot prevent violence, what must change in the way we understand power, entitlement and human behaviour? On a January night in 2015, two graduate students cycling through Stanford University noticed something disturbing near a dumpster. A young woman lay unconscious while a man sexually assaulted her. The students intervened. When the man attempted to escape, one pursued and restrained him while the other remained beside the woman until emergency services arrived. The woman was Chanel Miller. Her attacker, Brock Turner, a Stanford freshman and competitive swimmer, would later be convicted of three felony sexual-assault charges. His six-month jail sentence, of which he served three months, provoked international outrage and renewed questions about privilege, accountability and the treatment of sexual-assault survivors.
Yet beyond the courtroom, another question emerges from that night. Three young men encountered the same woman's vulnerability. One chose to exploit it. Two recognised an obligation to protect her. The distinction is unsettling because it exposes the limitations of our familiar explanations for sexual violence. We often attribute rape to patriarchy, male entitlement and the historical subordination of women. These are necessary conversations, grounded in centuries of inequality. But they do not entirely explain why individuals shaped by similar social environments can arrive at radically different moral decisions. Why does one person interpret vulnerability as an opportunity for domination while another recognizes it as a responsibility?
Patriarchy remains one of the most widely discussed explanations for violence against women, and with good reason. Throughout history, political, economic and domestic authority was concentrated overwhelmingly in male hands. Women were denied voting rights, excluded from professions, restricted in property ownership and subjected to legal systems that frequently treated marriage as a surrender of autonomy. Generations were raised within cultures that normalized male authority and expected female obedience. Although legislation has changed, cultural attitudes do not disappear as readily. Ideas about masculine dominance, sexual entitlement and women's obligations can persist in private relationships long after societies formally recognise equality.
Yet describing the historical distribution of power is not the same as explaining every individual act of violence. Sociologist Bonnie Fox raised this distinction in 1988, questioning approaches that treated patriarchy both as a description of male dominance and as a sufficient explanation for gendered behaviour. Understanding inequality requires examining social structures alongside individual circumstances and decisions. A society may perpetuate harmful expectations without every man becoming violent. Equally, a country may establish strong legal protections for women without eliminating coercion from intimate relationships. The challenge is to understand how structural influences translate into behavior, and why that translation differs so dramatically between individuals.
Few places illustrate this complexity more clearly than the Nordic countries. Iceland, Finland, Norway, Sweden and Denmark have long been regarded as international leaders in gender equality. Their policies support women's economic participation, political representation, education and independence. Parental-leave systems encourage fathers to participate in childcare, while social protections have helped reduce inequalities in employment and domestic responsibilities. These achievements are substantial, although equality remains an unfinished project. One might reasonably expect societies that have dismantled many traditional barriers facing women to experience considerably less sexual violence. Yet the available research presents a more complicated picture.
In 2016, researchers Enrique Gracia and Juan Merlo examined what became known as the Nordic paradox, the coexistence of comparatively high gender equality and high reported levels of intimate-partner violence against women. A European Union survey published in 2024, involving more than 114,000 women, reinforced concerns about the prevalence of violence. Across the EU, 30.7 percent of respondents reported experiencing physical violence or threats, sexual violence, or both during adulthood. In Denmark, the figure was 47.5 percent; in Sweden, 52.5 percent; and in Finland, 57.1 percent. These statistics are disturbing, particularly in societies widely celebrated for progressive gender policies.
However, such figures require careful interpretation. Survey responses are influenced by cultural attitudes, willingness to disclose abuse, questioning methods and differences in how experiences are understood. Higher reported prevalence does not automatically establish higher underlying rates of offending. Nor does it demonstrate that gender equality causes sexual violence. What these findings challenge is the assumption that institutional equality necessarily produces an immediate or proportionate reduction in abuse. A country may advance women's rights in public life while struggling to address violence occurring behind closed doors.
One possible explanation is that women in more gender-equal societies feel safer acknowledging and reporting abusive experiences. Financial independence, stronger institutional protections and greater awareness of personal rights may make it easier to recognise coercion and disclose violence. Conversely, women living in societies where domestic abuse remains heavily stigmatized may be less willing to discuss similar experiences. Researchers have attempted to investigate this possibility. A 2019 study comparing Swedish and Spanish women examined responses to questions describing specific acts of physical and sexual violence. Differences in how respondents understood those questions did not adequately explain the disparity. Swedish women continued to report substantially higher levels of intimate-partner violence than Spanish women.
These findings do not eliminate every possible influence of reporting practices or cultural differences. They do, however, suggest that greater willingness to disclose abuse cannot fully resolve the Nordic paradox. The uncomfortable possibility remains that social progress and persistent violence can coexist. A woman may possess economic independence, political representation and legal protection while remaining vulnerable to coercion within her relationship. Equality can be measured through legislation and employment statistics, yet remain absent from the private spaces where power is exercised without witnesses.
Another explanation concerns threatened masculinity. For some men, traditional understandings of manhood remain closely associated with dominance, financial authority and control. Women's growing independence may challenge these expectations. A partner who earns more, refuses intimacy or chooses to leave a relationship may be perceived as undermining an established hierarchy rather than exercising personal autonomy. Research into hostile sexism and masculinity threat suggests that certain individuals respond to perceived challenges with anger, coercive attitudes or greater acceptance of sexually aggressive behaviour. Yet these reactions are not inevitable consequences of equality. They are associated with particular beliefs and psychological vulnerabilities. Broader European research has found weak and inconsistent relationships between national gender-equality indicators and individual experiences of partner violence.
Sexual violence, moreover, does not emerge from a single psychological profile. Research has identified associations with hostile attitudes towards women, antisocial behaviour, coercive peer influences, acceptance of rape myths, substance misuse and experiences of childhood violence. These factors interact differently across individuals and circumstances. None inevitably produces an offender. Many people experience rejection, adversity or psychological distress without ever committing sexual violence. Understanding these distinctions is essential because prevention depends upon recognising the mechanisms through which harmful beliefs become harmful actions. A convenient explanation is not necessarily a complete one.
Perhaps the most revealing aspect of this discussion is the distance between equality guaranteed by society and power exercised within relationships. A woman may have the right to vote, earn independently, own property and leave a marriage. None of these protections automatically prevents a partner from attempting to control her movements, friendships, finances or body. Legal equality is indispensable, but it cannot independently transform every individual's attitudes towards intimacy and authority. Nor does equality mean that people possess identical power in every situation. Physical strength, financial dependence, social influence and emotional vulnerability can create imbalances. Such differences are not inherently abusive. What matters is how individuals respond when they possess an advantage.
An unconscious person cannot consent. Rejection does not become negotiable because someone feels humiliated. Marriage does not establish permanent sexual access, and intimacy does not diminish another person's bodily autonomy. These principles should be elementary, yet the persistence of sexual violence demonstrates the importance of teaching them explicitly. Young people are frequently told that men and women are equal. Far less attention is devoted to what equality requires when one person possesses immediate power over another. How should someone respond when desire is not reciprocated? How does one navigate rejection without retaliation, or anger without intimidation? These questions concern ordinary human experiences through which harmful attitudes can either be reinforced or challenged.
Encouragingly, research suggests that carefully designed educational interventions can influence behaviour. Coaching Boys into Men, a programme delivered through athletic coaches, encourages repeated conversations about consent, healthy relationships, nonviolence and bystander responsibility. A randomized trial involving 973 male athletes across 41 middle schools found that participants were more likely to intervene when witnessing abusive or disrespectful behaviour. Among participants who had dated, researchers also identified reductions in reported recent relationship abuse or sexual-violence perpetration. Another initiative, Green Dot, trains students to recognise potentially harmful situations and intervene safely. A five-year randomized trial involving 26 schools found reductions in sexual-violence perpetration, including an approximately 21 percent reduction by the fourth year of implementation.
These programmes are not universal solutions, but they demonstrate that prevention can move beyond awareness campaigns and general appeals for respect. Consent education must address coercion, manipulation, intoxication, unequal power, emotional pressure and the right to withdraw consent. Relationship education should teach young people how to manage conflict, accept rejection, recognise controlling behaviour and challenge harmful conduct among peers. Boys should not be approached as inevitable perpetrators, but as individuals capable of empathy, responsibility and moral judgement. Such education must operate alongside effective reporting mechanisms, survivor support and institutional accountability. Prevention and justice are complementary responsibilities.
Public debate frequently presents structural inequality and individual responsibility as competing explanations. Yet both are necessary. Social structures shape beliefs about gender, authority and entitlement. Families, institutions and peer groups influence which behaviours communities tolerate. Individuals ultimately remain responsible for their decisions. Gender equality must therefore extend beyond representation, legislation and economic participation to encompass the safety people experience in their everyday lives. A woman may be equal before the law and still be unsafe within her relationship. She may hold professional authority and remain vulnerable to sexual coercion. These realities do not diminish the achievements of gender equality. They reveal the work that remains beyond it.
The Stanford case returns us to the distinction with which this discussion began. One man encountered a woman who could not defend herself and committed an act of violence. Two others encountered the same circumstances and intervened. Responsibility for the assault belonged entirely to the perpetrator, just as the decision to intervene belonged to the witnesses. Their actions remind us that power alone does not determine behaviour. What matters is what individuals believe that power permits them to do.
Perhaps the question is not whether patriarchy explains rape. It explains important conditions that can enable sexual violence, but not every perpetrator, circumstance or act of resistance. The more urgent question is how societies can transform the attitudes, behaviours and institutions that allow such violence to continue.
A truly equal society is not simply one in which women possess the same rights as men, but one in which those rights are respected when nobody is watching, when rejection is uncomfortable and when another person's vulnerability presents an opportunity for harm. Ultimately, the measure of equality lies not only in how power is distributed publicly, but in how responsibly it is exercised privately. Until that understanding becomes part of how we educate, raise and hold one another accountable, the distance between equality and safety will remain painfully apparent.
