Little action where the need is greatSydney Morning HeraldSeptember 10 2004If we really want to protect victims of domestic violence, we need to start with the perpetrators, writes Adrienne Burgess.
When the domestic violence leaflet "Australia says no", published by the Office of the Status of Women, was stuffed into our letterboxes in June, something extraordinary happened. Though the leaflet was addressed to women, and the phone number of the national men's helpline, Mensline Australia, was tucked away at the back, the switchboard of that tiny organisation was jammed.
Operators were hard-pressed to respond to the flood of calls. What did the callers want? Requests for help to change violent behaviour nearly trebled. This isn't a new phenomenon. Mensline and behaviour-change programs hardly dare to advertise, since they know they'll be swamped by those wanting help.
In 1991, as part of a "Violence is Ugly" campaign, the Victorian Government placed six small newspaper advertisements and within three weeks more than 500 men had sought help. Another study found that just over half of men on behaviour-change programs had previously looked unsuccessfully for help, and that the balance hadn't known where to look, or felt too hopeless and ashamed to try. They often believed everyone else could cope and they must have something seriously wrong with them.
For the Mensline operators, a jammed switchboard wasn't the only problem: once callers got through, there were few services to refer them to. Addressing male violence in ordinary couple counselling can be dangerous since the violence often increases, so operators must refer to specialist services.
The Australian National Community Services Directory lists 408 services supporting women and children affected by family violence; yet even though a violent man is involved in almost every family the services see, male behaviour-change programs are rare: four in metropolitan NSW (three in the regions); five in metropolitan Queensland (nine regionally); three in metropolitan South Australia (three regionally); and three in Tasmania. Most provide only sporadic service.
We seem to have any number of schemes in place to treat the symptom, yet run a mile from treating the cause.
In Western Australia, the recent Freedom from Fear anti-violence media campaign claims to be "the first in Australia to focus primarily on perpetrators", although it has only limited back-up services.
Victoria, with 33 programs, has the beginnings of a service, although large areas are not serviced, many struggle with long waiting lists while others must charge fees that the poorer cannot hope to pay.
An innovative Family Violence Court is being set up, with some mandated programs, and there are programs within the criminal justice system. But only men in jail or on bail get to go on those, and they are a tiny percentage of the men who assault their partners. But other states are yet to follow Victoria's lead.
On any day, male-to-female violence takes place in one in 20 households. In almost 90 per cent of cases, children are witnesses. We also know that more than half of murders are perpetrated by an intimate partner, and that women are five times more likely to die this way than men.
Similarly, in women aged 15 to 44, violence from their partner is the leading contributor to death, disability and illness. We know that children who see parental violence not only suffer immeasurably but often grow up to repeat the cycle. And that the rate of child abuse and neglect in violent homes is 15 times greater than the national average, yet once parental violence stops, this reduces considerably.
Hiding women and children can save lives, but it does not stop men from behaving badly. With no challenge to their violence, and with no help, violent men may reconnect dangerously with their families the next week, or next month or next year - or move on to new households and behave violently there, too.
So why is there not a behaviour-change program attached to services that shelter or support hurt and frightened women and children? Reluctance to share resources is one issue; another is an ideological resistance to helping men. There is a belief that men "don't want to change" and, even if they do, they can't: that behaviour-change programs "don't work".
One by one, these are being revealed as myths. Not only is this kind of violence seriously aberrant - the vast majority of men do not behave as violent bullies within their families - but there is increasing evidence that behaviour-change programs can work, and work well.
When Lesley Laing, director of the Australian Domestic and Family Violence Clearinghouse, reviewed the evidence for their effectiveness last year, she found grounds for optimism. It suggested that men who stuck with such programs succeeded in avoiding violence.
Yet funding remains dire - a bit from the state governments, none from the Federal Government. Astonishingly, the Government's flagship Men and Family Relationships funding stream does not allow the money to be spent on work with violent men: this issue is specifically excluded from its remit.
As for the Labor Party, Mark Latham has announced he will "invest $33.1 million in mentoring over four years" - a temporary solution, if ever there was one. Not a cent, it seems, to tackle violence where it most hurts: in the fists of the fathers.
Adrienne Burgess is an international fatherhood consultant and the author of Fatherhood Reclaimed: the Making of the Modern Father (Vermilion, 1997).
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