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當傷害以愛為名：社會如何養出隱形的家庭怪物？人們如何擺脫精神虐待與親密關係暴力？
人們常提到黑街暗巷的危險，但事實上在每個國家裡，「家」對婦女而言，才是最危險的地方。
全球遭殺害的婦女中，有超過三分之二死於親密伴侶或家人之手。這些統計數據告訴我們一件幾乎無法克服的事──人們應該畏懼的，不是潛伏在黑暗中的怪獸，而是自己的所愛之人。
這是一本有關愛、施虐和權力的書，本書作者身為屢獲殊榮的澳洲知名調查記者，在書中揭露眾多男／女子遭受的家暴經驗，批判司法和社會支持系統失能之處，以及為何有時應該讓人信賴的機構與社會體系，竟反成為加害者的幫兇。
家暴不光只有肢體暴力，還包含情緒虐待、環境與金錢控管、人格貶損等方式，加害者善於利用其伴侶的愛、信任及隱私， 作為施虐、威脅與控制的藍圖。
家暴在社會劃開了一道極深的傷口，儘管人們開始注意到無所不在的家暴衝擊，卻極少追根溯源地探索傷害的開端，甚至經常向受害者展開一面充滿破洞的安全網。
作者在本書中不斷探詢與討論──誰是加害者？為何離開如此困難？我們對於成功案例的想像該是什麼？並深入剖析社會大眾譴責受害者的思考邏輯、有毒的男子氣概及難解的現況。
全球遭殺害的婦女中，有超過三分之二死於親密伴侶或家人之手。這些統計數據告訴我們一件幾乎無法克服的事──人們應該畏懼的，不是潛伏在黑暗中的怪獸，而是自己的所愛之人。
這是一本有關愛、施虐和權力的書，本書作者身為屢獲殊榮的澳洲知名調查記者，在書中揭露眾多男／女子遭受的家暴經驗，批判司法和社會支持系統失能之處，以及為何有時應該讓人信賴的機構與社會體系，竟反成為加害者的幫兇。
家暴不光只有肢體暴力，還包含情緒虐待、環境與金錢控管、人格貶損等方式，加害者善於利用其伴侶的愛、信任及隱私， 作為施虐、威脅與控制的藍圖。
家暴在社會劃開了一道極深的傷口，儘管人們開始注意到無所不在的家暴衝擊，卻極少追根溯源地探索傷害的開端，甚至經常向受害者展開一面充滿破洞的安全網。
作者在本書中不斷探詢與討論──誰是加害者？為何離開如此困難？我們對於成功案例的想像該是什麼？並深入剖析社會大眾譴責受害者的思考邏輯、有毒的男子氣概及難解的現況。
520 pages, Paperback
First published June 4, 2019
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April 14, 2020
Winner of the 2020 Stella Prize
Without a doubt, this is the most gut-wrenching book I have ever read, made even more harrowing by a particular story that is all over the news at the moment. I thought I knew about this problem, had seen the awareness campaigns, understood the key issues, but it turns out I had NO IDEA.
I had no idea about the scale and severity, the downright sadistic torture inflicted daily. Be warned, there is some extremely difficult content in this book. The descriptions of actual and threatened violence are shocking, necessarily so because shining light on these stories makes them harder to ignore.
I had no idea about the systemic enabling, the woeful inadequacy of governments, courts and police in dealing with the issue. Hill describes the absurdity of the Family Law courts as going ‘through the looking glass’; put another way it’s the hopeless, catch-22 irony of a witch trial—prove your innocence by drowning to death. The modern equivalent is proving you’re a fit parent by acceding to your children being put in harm’s way. You need only look at the news to see how badly the system is failing.
See What You Made Me Do is an eye-opening, enraging, profoundly necessary book, and one that I hope makes its way into as many hands as possible.
Without a doubt, this is the most gut-wrenching book I have ever read, made even more harrowing by a particular story that is all over the news at the moment. I thought I knew about this problem, had seen the awareness campaigns, understood the key issues, but it turns out I had NO IDEA.
I had no idea about the scale and severity, the downright sadistic torture inflicted daily. Be warned, there is some extremely difficult content in this book. The descriptions of actual and threatened violence are shocking, necessarily so because shining light on these stories makes them harder to ignore.
I had no idea about the systemic enabling, the woeful inadequacy of governments, courts and police in dealing with the issue. Hill describes the absurdity of the Family Law courts as going ‘through the looking glass’; put another way it’s the hopeless, catch-22 irony of a witch trial—prove your innocence by drowning to death. The modern equivalent is proving you’re a fit parent by acceding to your children being put in harm’s way. You need only look at the news to see how badly the system is failing.
See What You Made Me Do is an eye-opening, enraging, profoundly necessary book, and one that I hope makes its way into as many hands as possible.
Read
February 6, 2022I cannot overstate how incredibly important, well-researched and revolutionary this book is. I want all of you to read it!! A few take-aways:
‣The idea of female masochism stems from Freud and has been thoroughly debunked- he developed this theory after being ridiculed by the field for suggesting that hysteria was caused by trauma. Similarly, Stockholm Syndrome is a contentious label that has yet to be adequately verified empirically.
‣Bottom line: what may look like a victim's passivity is often a survival tactic masking subtle forms of resistance.
‣The causes of male-perpetrated abuse can be traced back to a combination of personal psychology and patriarchal norms. It's a mistake to create a false dichotomy between the two.
‣Abuse by men is caused not by a man who feels powerful but a man who feels a combination of entitlement to power and humiliation/shame.
‣The excuse of testosterone causing aggression has fallen apart the more we learn about testosterone - it is not an aggression hormone but a status-seeking hormone. The problem is that aggression has historically become the way that men prove their status - but when social norms change and other means of proving status dominate, testosterone levels rise with those actions instead.
‣Depending on the psychometric scales used men and women perpetrate abuse at either similar or vastly different rates. Nearly all the research indicating gender symmetry comes from the Conflict Tactics Scale, which provides no context for the actions committed - so an action in self-defense counts the same amount as an act of aggression, and a partner who pushes their partner away while the partner is trying to sexually assault them would be given a point while the assaulter would not be given a point.
‣Another difference arises between gendered rates of situational violence - occasional acts of violence without an underlying pattern of control, coercion or power- and coercive control/intimate terrorism, where the violence is part a consistent, deliberate pattern intended to debilitate, isolate and destroy the target. Situational violence is perpetrated at similar rates between men and women, but coercive control is perpetrated overwhelmingly by men.
‣Hill is very clear about the catastrophic mishandling of domestic violence cases by the police. Disbelief, apathy, minimization and inaction are the rule rather than the exception, stemming largely from officers' beliefs that victims could simply leave and end the abuse if they wanted to. Leaving is when women are the most likely to be murdered. When police dramatically restructure their response to domestic violence and hold perpetrators accountable, rates of perpetration are proven to decrease.
‣There is a direct link between the devastation of colonialism and present day abuse in Aboriginal communities, both because of the historic normalization of violence against Aboriginal women by white men and the lack of adequate community resources for Aboriginal men who have been traumatized themselves and go on to hurt their partners in response. A redirection of funding into community services in Aboriginal communities makes them dramatically healthier and safer.
‣The idea of female masochism stems from Freud and has been thoroughly debunked- he developed this theory after being ridiculed by the field for suggesting that hysteria was caused by trauma. Similarly, Stockholm Syndrome is a contentious label that has yet to be adequately verified empirically.
‣Bottom line: what may look like a victim's passivity is often a survival tactic masking subtle forms of resistance.
‣The causes of male-perpetrated abuse can be traced back to a combination of personal psychology and patriarchal norms. It's a mistake to create a false dichotomy between the two.
‣Abuse by men is caused not by a man who feels powerful but a man who feels a combination of entitlement to power and humiliation/shame.
‣The excuse of testosterone causing aggression has fallen apart the more we learn about testosterone - it is not an aggression hormone but a status-seeking hormone. The problem is that aggression has historically become the way that men prove their status - but when social norms change and other means of proving status dominate, testosterone levels rise with those actions instead.
‣Depending on the psychometric scales used men and women perpetrate abuse at either similar or vastly different rates. Nearly all the research indicating gender symmetry comes from the Conflict Tactics Scale, which provides no context for the actions committed - so an action in self-defense counts the same amount as an act of aggression, and a partner who pushes their partner away while the partner is trying to sexually assault them would be given a point while the assaulter would not be given a point.
‣Another difference arises between gendered rates of situational violence - occasional acts of violence without an underlying pattern of control, coercion or power- and coercive control/intimate terrorism, where the violence is part a consistent, deliberate pattern intended to debilitate, isolate and destroy the target. Situational violence is perpetrated at similar rates between men and women, but coercive control is perpetrated overwhelmingly by men.
‣Hill is very clear about the catastrophic mishandling of domestic violence cases by the police. Disbelief, apathy, minimization and inaction are the rule rather than the exception, stemming largely from officers' beliefs that victims could simply leave and end the abuse if they wanted to. Leaving is when women are the most likely to be murdered. When police dramatically restructure their response to domestic violence and hold perpetrators accountable, rates of perpetration are proven to decrease.
‣There is a direct link between the devastation of colonialism and present day abuse in Aboriginal communities, both because of the historic normalization of violence against Aboriginal women by white men and the lack of adequate community resources for Aboriginal men who have been traumatized themselves and go on to hurt their partners in response. A redirection of funding into community services in Aboriginal communities makes them dramatically healthier and safer.
February 14, 2020
Longlisted for the 2020 Stella Prize.
In the very first paragraph of the introduction, the brief statistics given have enough force to make you stop and reread them. In the office of Safe Steps, Victoria’s 24/7 family violence helpline, the phones, at their busiest time, ring every three minutes. THREE minutes! A woman will return to a violent abuser seven times before leaving, SEVEN times! These statistics are beyond alarming, they are a warning that should have been heeded long ago. This simply cannot go on.
Hill also says early on that she tries to use the term domestic abuse rather than domestic violence because in many cases there is no violence, but the mental abuse can be just as severe, just as destructive, in many cases more so. Hill also turns the question, “Why does she return to him again and again?” around to “Why does he abuse her again and again?”.
So, first paragraph of the introduction, the book has not even really begun, and the reader knows they are in for some horror stories, but stories that should be told, stories that may have the power to help change this dire situation. Knowledge is power, and the more people who know about these stories can only be a step in the right direction. Even if it is only a step, a step is progress.
I do not want to bog you down in a quagmire of statistics, but these statistics should be told, people need to know these statistics. Of the 87 thousand women killed in 2017, 30 thousand of them were by an intimate partner and 20 thousand a family member.
In Australia, a country that I am proud to call my home, one woman a week is killed by somebody she has been intimate with. Suddenly that proudness loses much of its lustre. How can this be happening? It shocked me to the core. Here is a frightening thought, while you are reading this a woman is being abused in some form, not just one woman, but many. Because for everyone we know about there are myriads of women who remain in the shadows living in fear.
And Hill points out there is no stereotypical abused woman. All women are affected, from all walks of life, it is not just the poor, the uneducated, the indigenous, it is everyone. One lady was a highly successful doctor who now lives on the poverty line because of legal fees in trying to keep her abusive husband away from their daughter. This is another form of abuse faced. Most times, the abuser controls the money in the relationship, threatening the abused with financial ruin if they try to leave. Court costs in legal battles, as with the doctor, can be astronomical, again resulting in bankruptcy. So physical abuse is only once side of a multi-faceted problem.
Hill also goes on to say that just as there is no stereotypical abused woman, there is also no stereotypical abusive man. They also come from all walks of life and have different reasons for abusing. From the insecure guy who is afraid that he is going to lose his partner, so he locks her away, denies her access to friends and money. To the coercive controller who enjoys the abuse, manipulates the abuse for more pleasure. Then you have the abuser who just wants to take everything he can from her and then leave a ruined, damaged life in the rear view mirror as he moves on to new prey.
There is no point in going into detail about any one particular story, or anecdote, it’s sufficient just to say that they are all horrific and are all completely different and happened to completely different people. But all the tales told contain the one dominant point. Fear! What it must be like to live your whole life, virtually every waking moment, in fear. This cannot go on.
However, it is not all doom and gloom, and progress is being made. Since 2014, there have been changes. There has been progress made in the legal system. In Queensland, in 2016, legislation was changed to make non-fatal strangulation punishable by up to seven years imprisonment. As strangulation is one of the more common and dangerous forms of physical abuse, this legislation made immediate impact, and in the following year almost 800 people were charged with it.
The two most potent weapons in combating this abuse are Awareness and a complete overhaul of the legal system. Change is being made in the legal system, but sentences need to be much harsher. Awareness needs to be pushed in all communities. You cannot fight something you cannot see.
For the sheer amount of work and research that Hill has done, and how she has brought all of this whole domestic abuse issue into the format of this book, and presented it in a structure that is compelling, informative, eye opening, and quite frankly, jaw dropping, I simply must give this book 5 stars. There is no denying that it is a distressing book, Hill manages to impart a personal feel to the book, and you will feel for these victims. I know that many people will be unable to read these horrendous stories but kudos to Hill for producing this book. And if it saves even one life it has all been worth it. 5 Stars. A worthy spot on the Stella longlist.
There is a link to the review on my blog which has an amazing podcast with Jess talking about the book and domestic violence. Please if you get the chance have a listen - https://www.collinsbookblog.com/post/...
In the very first paragraph of the introduction, the brief statistics given have enough force to make you stop and reread them. In the office of Safe Steps, Victoria’s 24/7 family violence helpline, the phones, at their busiest time, ring every three minutes. THREE minutes! A woman will return to a violent abuser seven times before leaving, SEVEN times! These statistics are beyond alarming, they are a warning that should have been heeded long ago. This simply cannot go on.
Hill also says early on that she tries to use the term domestic abuse rather than domestic violence because in many cases there is no violence, but the mental abuse can be just as severe, just as destructive, in many cases more so. Hill also turns the question, “Why does she return to him again and again?” around to “Why does he abuse her again and again?”.
So, first paragraph of the introduction, the book has not even really begun, and the reader knows they are in for some horror stories, but stories that should be told, stories that may have the power to help change this dire situation. Knowledge is power, and the more people who know about these stories can only be a step in the right direction. Even if it is only a step, a step is progress.
I do not want to bog you down in a quagmire of statistics, but these statistics should be told, people need to know these statistics. Of the 87 thousand women killed in 2017, 30 thousand of them were by an intimate partner and 20 thousand a family member.
In Australia, a country that I am proud to call my home, one woman a week is killed by somebody she has been intimate with. Suddenly that proudness loses much of its lustre. How can this be happening? It shocked me to the core. Here is a frightening thought, while you are reading this a woman is being abused in some form, not just one woman, but many. Because for everyone we know about there are myriads of women who remain in the shadows living in fear.
And Hill points out there is no stereotypical abused woman. All women are affected, from all walks of life, it is not just the poor, the uneducated, the indigenous, it is everyone. One lady was a highly successful doctor who now lives on the poverty line because of legal fees in trying to keep her abusive husband away from their daughter. This is another form of abuse faced. Most times, the abuser controls the money in the relationship, threatening the abused with financial ruin if they try to leave. Court costs in legal battles, as with the doctor, can be astronomical, again resulting in bankruptcy. So physical abuse is only once side of a multi-faceted problem.
Hill also goes on to say that just as there is no stereotypical abused woman, there is also no stereotypical abusive man. They also come from all walks of life and have different reasons for abusing. From the insecure guy who is afraid that he is going to lose his partner, so he locks her away, denies her access to friends and money. To the coercive controller who enjoys the abuse, manipulates the abuse for more pleasure. Then you have the abuser who just wants to take everything he can from her and then leave a ruined, damaged life in the rear view mirror as he moves on to new prey.
There is no point in going into detail about any one particular story, or anecdote, it’s sufficient just to say that they are all horrific and are all completely different and happened to completely different people. But all the tales told contain the one dominant point. Fear! What it must be like to live your whole life, virtually every waking moment, in fear. This cannot go on.
However, it is not all doom and gloom, and progress is being made. Since 2014, there have been changes. There has been progress made in the legal system. In Queensland, in 2016, legislation was changed to make non-fatal strangulation punishable by up to seven years imprisonment. As strangulation is one of the more common and dangerous forms of physical abuse, this legislation made immediate impact, and in the following year almost 800 people were charged with it.
The two most potent weapons in combating this abuse are Awareness and a complete overhaul of the legal system. Change is being made in the legal system, but sentences need to be much harsher. Awareness needs to be pushed in all communities. You cannot fight something you cannot see.
For the sheer amount of work and research that Hill has done, and how she has brought all of this whole domestic abuse issue into the format of this book, and presented it in a structure that is compelling, informative, eye opening, and quite frankly, jaw dropping, I simply must give this book 5 stars. There is no denying that it is a distressing book, Hill manages to impart a personal feel to the book, and you will feel for these victims. I know that many people will be unable to read these horrendous stories but kudos to Hill for producing this book. And if it saves even one life it has all been worth it. 5 Stars. A worthy spot on the Stella longlist.
There is a link to the review on my blog which has an amazing podcast with Jess talking about the book and domestic violence. Please if you get the chance have a listen - https://www.collinsbookblog.com/post/...
Read
July 14, 2020*** 2020 Winner of The Stella Prize ***
”...statistics tell us something that’s almost impossible to grapple with: it’s not the monster lurking in the dark women should fear, but the men they fall in love with…"
The above quote says it all.
I have to admit to being extremely reticent to read this book. I adore the Stella Prize (of which this was the 2020 winner), and make an effort to read as much of the shortlist as possible, as well as the winning book. But I kept shying away from this one. I put off reading it repeatedly. It’s only as I’ve had it on loan from the library for far too long (thanks Covid), and with the due date looming at the end of this month, I made one more attempt to read it.
This book deals with such tough subject matter. It’s factual. It’s difficult. It’s ugly. It’s unbelievable. It’s in your face. There is no sugar coating any of the detail or data contained in here. The cold, hard stats. Jess Hill has done an exceptional job with providing a journalistic approach to what is possibly still a somewhat taboo subject. Call it what you will, whether domestic abuse or domestic violence, it exists. In numbers far too large to ignore, and with implications for society which are sobering.
Some truly shocking facts from the introduction to the book:
* on average, women will return to an abusive partner seven times before leaving for good
* in every country around the world, the family home is the most dangerous place for women
* in Australia, a country of 25 million, one woman a week is killed by a man she’s been intimate with.
”This is a book about love, abuse and power. It’s about a phenomenon that flourishes in private and in public…”
Overall, abuse tends to be physical, ranging from threats and beatings, to broken bones and major injuries. Death. Sadly this is often the end result. But the violence is not confined to the body. It can also be verbal. Emotional. Psychological. Often a mix of each. Leaving the recipient living a life walking on eggshells and looking out for cues that could precipitate the next attack.
Rape. Matrimonial rape. Date rape. It is not ok. It is not acceptable. There are no excuses.
I cannot pretend to understand any of these actions. Especially the fear that the children of abusers live through. How can someone function and participate as a "normal" member of society, when they've been to hell and back, and unable to (try to) fight back. As for the people that can cold bloodedly murder their children, their own flesh and blood....Jesus wept.
Statistically, it is mainly women and children who suffer at the hands of abusers. Though this book also brings to light the less talked about fact that men can also be victims of domestic abuse, as can same-sex partnerships. These types of abuse tend to be less talked about due to the added “fear” of ridicule. And disbelief.
There’s an oft used quote from Margaret Atwood that has been included ”Men are afraid women will laugh at them, and women are afraid men will kill them.”* It’s one that I’ve never felt comfortable with. It brings to mind dark thoughts about what a scary place the world can be. The shadows lurking in corners. It seems that Ms. Atwood created this quote based on a survey she’d done amongst her students and friends. It’s a sobering thought.
”Why is it that men are so afraid of being laughed at?” asks Jess Hill. I have to say, I know plenty of women that have been laughed at by men...with not quite the same results.
Case histories, family histories of varying levels of humiliation and abuse are portrayed. Technical and psychological surveys are discussed, such as those used by captors on POWs in wartime. Stockholm syndrome is mentioned. All in an attempt to look into the mind of the abuser and what causes them to act the way they do. Is it power? A deep set anger or resentment? Shame? There are no simple answers.
It can be easy to judge someone else’s situation from the outside. ”Why didn’t she just leave?” is a question put forward in the book many times. And the answer is as varied and unique as the individuals living in purgatory on earth. This is no cut and dried answer. There are layers and layers of reasons why people stay with their abusers, in an untenable situation. Fear. Monetary dependence. Social need. Cultural embarrassment. Religious beliefs. Lack of support. “For the children”. And most sadly of all, love. Yes. So many still love their abuser, and think that they can change him (or her).
The book describes domestic abuse as an endemic, and that’s true. It is not biased against any particular postcode, age group, religious, educational or cultural background. It can be generational. A few of the chapters were dedicated to indigenous women, which added another layer of complexity to an already difficult problem.
The police and the courts do not have an easy time either. The legal system is clogged with an overload of cases. Repeat offenders. When police are called out to a domestic violence incident, it's one that they especially dread dealing with, as their hands are tied with how much they can help. The situation often remains unchanged. There are no winners.
I’m not adding a star rating for this book, as the subject matter goes way beyond that. I cannot pretend to have enjoyed reading this, much as I value its importance. There are pages I skimmed, as it was unbearable to read. It was extremely uncomfortable. I cannot imagine the toll this would have taken on Ms.Hill to write this. It’s a definite out-of-my-comfort-zone and I cannot-believe-this-is-real reading experience. This is a book that high schools should consider introducing to students, so that possibly future generations can somehow make a positive change and help stop the cycle of abuse. It’s not acceptable and it’s never ok.
There’s so much more I want to say, but my head is spinning.
There are helpline numbers at the end of the book for those living in Australia. Primarily 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732 and 1800RESPECT.org.au, which is the national sexual assault and domestic family violence and counselling service.
MensLineAustralia can be reached on 11300 789 978 for men experiencing abuse, or who are concerned about their own behaviour.
I urge anyone who needs help or knows someone who does, to contact a service in their state or territory. Likewise for any reviewers who may be reading this who reside overseas, please contact your local help centres. Reach out.
Trigger warnings
Graphic descriptions of violence, intimidation, humiliation and sexual references. Reality.
I’ll end this with some thoughts from one of my favourite writers, Matt Haig.
”Don’t let anyone or anything make you feel you aren’t enough.”
”Change doesn’t just happen by focusing on the place you want to escape. It happens by focusing on where you want to reach.”
* From doing some additional research while reading this book, I stumbled upon an absolutely eye opening and frightening article which was published way back in 1996. And the truly frightening thing? That it remains just as valid today, as when it was written.
http://www.pbs.org/kued/nosafeplace/a...
May 12, 2025
This book is a tour de force. Jess Hill methodically details all aspects of domestic abuse: victims, perpetrators, law enforcement, intersectionality, psychology, and solutions. With expertly woven investigative journalism and academic research, Hill provides a comprehensive treatise on this phenomenon, particularly within the Australian context. Domestic abuse, though pervasive, remains somewhat taboo. This book shatters that taboo and is a must-read. However, a trigger warning is necessary. The shocking depictions of physical and sexual violence are, in my opinion, essential for educating those fortunate enough to have not experienced this scourge on society.
I have recently worked on policies aimed at changing the behaviours of people who "use" domestic violence. "Perpetrator" is no longer the preferred terminology, as empirical evidence suggests it attaches stigma to those who use violence, making them less likely to engage in intervention programs. The efficacy of such programs remains equivocal. The key factor determining one’s prospect for change is motivation. However, even if someone wants to change, they may face personal barriers—such as cognitive impairments, trauma-based responses, or non-inclusive services. It is critical that programs are trauma-informed and grounded in intersectionality.
Most participants in intervention programs are court-mandated and often prioritised over voluntary referrals. Personal motivation to change is minimal in this cohort, leading to the squandering of taxpayer money. Voluntary referrals should be prioritised. Furthermore, when someone is mandated to attend an intervention program, their gendered attitudes toward violence have often already been cemented. Societal change is required, or recognising individuals at a young age who may use violence in the future and educating them accordingly. However, this second option raises several ethical questions, which are likely to supersede the safety of victim-survivors of violence.
I have recently worked on policies aimed at changing the behaviours of people who "use" domestic violence. "Perpetrator" is no longer the preferred terminology, as empirical evidence suggests it attaches stigma to those who use violence, making them less likely to engage in intervention programs. The efficacy of such programs remains equivocal. The key factor determining one’s prospect for change is motivation. However, even if someone wants to change, they may face personal barriers—such as cognitive impairments, trauma-based responses, or non-inclusive services. It is critical that programs are trauma-informed and grounded in intersectionality.
Most participants in intervention programs are court-mandated and often prioritised over voluntary referrals. Personal motivation to change is minimal in this cohort, leading to the squandering of taxpayer money. Voluntary referrals should be prioritised. Furthermore, when someone is mandated to attend an intervention program, their gendered attitudes toward violence have often already been cemented. Societal change is required, or recognising individuals at a young age who may use violence in the future and educating them accordingly. However, this second option raises several ethical questions, which are likely to supersede the safety of victim-survivors of violence.
July 21, 2020
I'm making it my personal mission to put this book into the hands of more Australian men. Young men, old men, queer men, family men, single men, "nice guys", all of them.
July 7, 2019
Jess Hill’s See What You Made Me Do is an unexpectedly page-turning read on the cruel and harrowing tragedy playing out in kitchens and bedrooms across Australia. What makes this powerful, though, is its sense of hope. As Jess writes, “Social problems often seem insurmountable, until they’re not.”
It's not an easy read, it’s an essential one. Sometimes I could hardly bear to read on – one story, in particular, kept me awake for the good part of a night and feeling dazed days after. Jess doesn’t flinch, at least on paper. I kept thinking as I read, how far did she have to go into the darkness to tell this story? But if we can’t truly look at the terror forcing these women and children to remain underground, what chance do we have of getting them out?
As someone who grew up amid some of that claustrophobic fear, it was Jess’s initial features for The Monthly and ABC’s Background Briefing that helped me see things in a different light and begin to understand. This book started as a six month investigation off the back of those stunning pieces of journalism, and metastasised into this book as Jess criss-crossed the country seeking to understand the scale of the issue.
She put everything into it. In fact, at a certain point a band of friends and journalists grouped together on a crowdfunding campaign to help her reach the finish line.
See What You Made Me Do deals with the toughest and most polarising of subject matter, yet never feels predetermined. Jess’s hunger to understand what’s going on, in cities, regional centres and on isolated properties, with white, migrant and Indigenous families, fuels this book. The exceptional writing and powerful stories put the focus squarely on this massive challenge facing Australia and Australians – and tables many tried and tested solutions.
It feels like a landmark. Please let’s hope and work to make sure that it is.
It's not an easy read, it’s an essential one. Sometimes I could hardly bear to read on – one story, in particular, kept me awake for the good part of a night and feeling dazed days after. Jess doesn’t flinch, at least on paper. I kept thinking as I read, how far did she have to go into the darkness to tell this story? But if we can’t truly look at the terror forcing these women and children to remain underground, what chance do we have of getting them out?
As someone who grew up amid some of that claustrophobic fear, it was Jess’s initial features for The Monthly and ABC’s Background Briefing that helped me see things in a different light and begin to understand. This book started as a six month investigation off the back of those stunning pieces of journalism, and metastasised into this book as Jess criss-crossed the country seeking to understand the scale of the issue.
She put everything into it. In fact, at a certain point a band of friends and journalists grouped together on a crowdfunding campaign to help her reach the finish line.
See What You Made Me Do deals with the toughest and most polarising of subject matter, yet never feels predetermined. Jess’s hunger to understand what’s going on, in cities, regional centres and on isolated properties, with white, migrant and Indigenous families, fuels this book. The exceptional writing and powerful stories put the focus squarely on this massive challenge facing Australia and Australians – and tables many tried and tested solutions.
It feels like a landmark. Please let’s hope and work to make sure that it is.
November 12, 2020
As a survivor of family violence, this book explained my own life back to me.
I did not understand coercive control before, and now that I do everything has fallen into place. I have never heard it explained until I read this book, and I've been reading feminist literature for 20 years.
This book gives us a language to understand a very nuanced and complex syndrome. Without language we have no voice. We're stuck in an endless, unexplainable vortex where no-one believes us. I didn't even believe myself. This book has helped me in the long process of believing in myself again.
The internalised self-doubt that comes from years of being gaslighted is the greatest injury in intimate violence.
I love this book. I love that she wrote it, that we read it, that we are talking about this problem. We are going to end generations of suffering by using the language Jess Hill has given us.
I did not understand coercive control before, and now that I do everything has fallen into place. I have never heard it explained until I read this book, and I've been reading feminist literature for 20 years.
This book gives us a language to understand a very nuanced and complex syndrome. Without language we have no voice. We're stuck in an endless, unexplainable vortex where no-one believes us. I didn't even believe myself. This book has helped me in the long process of believing in myself again.
The internalised self-doubt that comes from years of being gaslighted is the greatest injury in intimate violence.
I love this book. I love that she wrote it, that we read it, that we are talking about this problem. We are going to end generations of suffering by using the language Jess Hill has given us.
September 12, 2025
- “‘You must get so frustrated when you think a woman’s ready to leave and then she decides to go back,’ I say.
‘No,’ replies one phone counsellor pointedly. ‘I’m frustrated that even though he promised to stop, he chose to abuse her again.’”
- “Today[...] we know that the techniques common to domestic abuse match those used by practically anyone who trades in captivity: kidnappers, hostage-takers, pimps, cult leaders. What this reveals is that there is nothing uniquely weak, helpless or masochistic about victims of domestic abuse. Faced with the universal methods of coercive control, their responses are no different from those of trained soldiers.”
- “In many of these sickening scenarios, both the perpetrator and their victim were known to friends and families as friendly, regular people. As the American philosopher David Livingstone Smith stresses, ‘You don’t have to be a monster or a madman to dehumanise others. You just have to be an ordinary human being.’”
‘No,’ replies one phone counsellor pointedly. ‘I’m frustrated that even though he promised to stop, he chose to abuse her again.’”
- “Today[...] we know that the techniques common to domestic abuse match those used by practically anyone who trades in captivity: kidnappers, hostage-takers, pimps, cult leaders. What this reveals is that there is nothing uniquely weak, helpless or masochistic about victims of domestic abuse. Faced with the universal methods of coercive control, their responses are no different from those of trained soldiers.”
- “In many of these sickening scenarios, both the perpetrator and their victim were known to friends and families as friendly, regular people. As the American philosopher David Livingstone Smith stresses, ‘You don’t have to be a monster or a madman to dehumanise others. You just have to be an ordinary human being.’”
January 9, 2020
See What You Made Me Do is fucking enraging and harrowing and urgent and important. It’s a comprehensive, devastating examination of the causes, nature and impact of domestic abuse in Australia. It is also, crucially, incredibly readable and well-written, and ultimately hopeful about the potential for community-driven approaches to reduce family violence and domestic abuse. It deserves to be read widely, deeply, by politicians and policy-makers and sector workers and by EVERYONE – because domestic abuse is a society-wide problem that impacts us all, both reflecting and shaping our collective attitudes towards gender and violence. I fully expect to see this book on the Stella Prize longlist.
January 21, 2021
A very challenging topic is dealt with brilliantly in this read.
Domestic abuse, in all its horrific forms, is expertly discussed in this well-researched, hard-hitting and highly challenging non-fiction book. At times I was shocked by this book; knowing that it discusses the prevalence and severity of actual cases but each one led to me gaining more understanding and information. An exceptionally insightful work on a very prevalent societal issue.
It was certainly one of the most difficult books I have read, and I needed to read it in between other books, as at times, it was a little overwhelming. By far one of the most comprehensive books on the subject I have read. Cases are largely Australian but absolutely applicable globally. An insight into the things that go on behind the closed doors. There is so much to say about this book. If you are vaguely interested in what makes people do the things they do (victims and perpetrators), this is the read for you.
Daunting but it delivers great insight. A very comprehensive, educational book on the subject of domestic abuse.
Domestic abuse, in all its horrific forms, is expertly discussed in this well-researched, hard-hitting and highly challenging non-fiction book. At times I was shocked by this book; knowing that it discusses the prevalence and severity of actual cases but each one led to me gaining more understanding and information. An exceptionally insightful work on a very prevalent societal issue.
It was certainly one of the most difficult books I have read, and I needed to read it in between other books, as at times, it was a little overwhelming. By far one of the most comprehensive books on the subject I have read. Cases are largely Australian but absolutely applicable globally. An insight into the things that go on behind the closed doors. There is so much to say about this book. If you are vaguely interested in what makes people do the things they do (victims and perpetrators), this is the read for you.
Daunting but it delivers great insight. A very comprehensive, educational book on the subject of domestic abuse.
May 13, 2020
Every so often you come across a piece of writing that widens your eyes to the world you’re living in. Jess Hill’s searing expose of domestic abuse in contemporary Australia, is such a piece. For those working on the frontline of domestic abuse, the scale and severity of this national crisis wouldn't have come as a quite shock, but for readers like me, it was jaw-dropping.
Hill’s harrowing investigation comprehensively examines, with chilling insight, the cause and effect of the violence being done to our women. She puts faces and stories to staggering figures, not in an effort to gratuitously shock, but to capture the domestic terror happening every day in Australian homes. These insights are confronting, but need to be told.
Meticulously researched, compellingly argued and accessibly written, See What You Made Me Do is one of the most important books you’ll read this year.
Hill’s harrowing investigation comprehensively examines, with chilling insight, the cause and effect of the violence being done to our women. She puts faces and stories to staggering figures, not in an effort to gratuitously shock, but to capture the domestic terror happening every day in Australian homes. These insights are confronting, but need to be told.
Meticulously researched, compellingly argued and accessibly written, See What You Made Me Do is one of the most important books you’ll read this year.
December 5, 2019
How Leigh Sales won a Walkley for Any Ordinary Day over this I will never understand. It’s a very hard book to read but a harder book to ignore (and damn it must have been hard to write). We have a huge problem with domestic abuse in this country – it’s a national emergency and Jess Hill has done the work to show us what the abuse looks like in its various and chilling forms and what we can do about it. Essential reading
March 7, 2020
Excellent. Jess Hill brings logic & order to a devastating subject. She explores - with compassion & rigorous research - the factors causing domestic abuse (so-called as some of the worst examples are coercive control, not violence per se); how women resist & the forces they are up against. These include police culture, the family law system (this was the most shocking to me) & lack of housing. Urgent reform is needed.
A hugely important & compelling read.
A hugely important & compelling read.
September 22, 2019
Absolutely essential reading for everyone. It is tough to read but, as the author says, while it was hard for her to write the stories of women who have abused, their stories must be heard. I find this book disturbing, confronting, and incredibly enlightening. The suffering of women who experience domestic abuse, mostly from, men, is at a crisis in our country (Australia) and around the globe. The efforts that governments are making, while laudable, are not very effective. Something deep and lasting needs to be done. Don't make excuses for not reading this book. Get it. Read it. Act.
November 16, 2020
We talk a lot about the danger of dark alleys, but the truth is that in every country around the world the home is the most dangerous place for a woman.If you only ever read one book about domestic abuse, please make it this one. While I’d like everyone to read it, I think it should be mandatory for so many professions, including anyone involved in the judicial system, medicine, politics, teaching and counselling.
Domestic abuse is not just violence. It’s worse. It is a unique phenomenon, in which the perpetrator takes advantage of their partner’s love and trust and uses that person’s most intimate details - their deepest desires, shames and secrets - as a blueprint for their abuse.I thought I knew a lot about domestic abuse already. I’ve experienced it firsthand. I’ve read plenty of fiction and non-fiction books that talk about it. I have a psychology degree. I worked in a women’s refuge for a short time. Yet I learned so much from this book.
What should surprise us about domestic abuse is not that a woman can take a long time to leave, but that she has the mental fortitude to survive.When the author introduced Biderman’s ‘Chart of Coercion’, saying there are parallels between the experiences of returned prisoners of war and domestic abuse survivors, I admit I was a tad wary. Even as someone well versed in the experience of domestic abuse, I wasn’t sure how the two would or could line up. The way the author outlined the techniques, step by step, sucked me in though. It all made perfect sense and it was horrifying, but I was learning something new and I needed to find out more.
Accompanying extensive research are stories of people who have perpetrated and been victimised by domestic abuse. Prepare to brace yourself as you read these accounts as they are invariably brutal and heartbreaking, but please don’t bypass them, even though that would be easier. (Or else you risk missing out on aha! moments, like when emotional abuse is explained as someone bashing someone with their emotions instead of their fists.)
If you’ve experienced domestic abuse yourself, you will easily recognise the truth of these accounts. If you are fortunate enough to have made it this far without being impacted by this type of trauma, know that these stories are representative of so many people’s lives. Friends, family, neighbours …
I can’t imagine reading these accounts without having a visceral reaction and if you’re struggling to ‘witness’ them on the page, please be sure to practice self care. I don’t know if what helped me will apply to other readers but each time I came across something that was too difficult, I told myself that my discomfort wasn’t even in the same ball park as the horror of actually experiencing that firsthand.
The people who have told their stories have courage beyond my comprehension and I feel we owe it to them to not shy away from their words. It’s too easy to maintain the status quo; maybe what we all need is a wake up call to spur us into action.
There’s so much we still need to do. A recent Australian survey, conducted by White Ribbon, found that
Four in ten young men do not consider punching and hitting to constitute domestic violenceSource: The Sydney Morning Herald 25/10/2020
In NSW, Australia, coercive control is not even a criminal offence. Yet. Hopefully this will change, if proposed coercive control laws aren’t squished by the powers that be. You can find Women’s Safety NSW’s proposal here.
I want people to stop asking ‘Why does she stay?’ and start asking ‘Why does he do that?’Content warnings include mention of .
SURVIVOR, QUEENSLAND
Blog - https://schizanthusnerd.com
May 12, 2020
I don't even know where to begin with this book... by far, the most gut wrenching yet important book that I have ever, ever read. Prior to reading this book, I considered myself sympathetic and empathetic to victims of domestic abuse, although I'm embarrassed to admit that there was a small, niggling voice at the back of my mind saying... "why wouldn't this woman just leave her partner?" or "why would this woman stay with this man and put her kids at risk?". I feel awful admitting to this, but honestly this was a thought stream of mine. Never again will I think in this way. This book has taught me SO much, not just about Domestic Abuse, but about women, men, children, psychology, culture, law, charity, police, governance, the patriarchy... above all this book has opened my eyes to the way in which all these little steps and systems and attitudes feed into the complex web that is Domestic Abuse. This book is not purely focussed on the immediate victims of domestic abuse - it delves into the myriad of social and emotional influences which create an abuser. I cried for both the abused and the abusers whilst reading this book - a reaction that I did not anticipate. I can honestly say this book has changed my life, and the way I view the world. Whoever you are, no matter your sex, marital status, religious views or home country - read this book and be ready for an incredibly difficult yet profound journey.
July 21, 2019
Hard to read and not without a couple of flaws*, but an incredibly important book. Hill prioritises the voices of victims, negotiates the minefields of research and ideology reasonably well and calls for immediate action to reduce domestic abuse across society. It's clear that if we really put resources into the sector we could drastically reduce harm - hopefully this book helps to light a fire under government at all levels.
* I found the false equivalence between MRAs and their water-carriers like Mark Latham with unnamed 'extreme' feminists a bit weird, and I thought there were a few sections where Hill relied on the authority of her sources rather than really constructing convincing arguments, but these are both v minor issues in an otherwise astonishing book.
* I found the false equivalence between MRAs and their water-carriers like Mark Latham with unnamed 'extreme' feminists a bit weird, and I thought there were a few sections where Hill relied on the authority of her sources rather than really constructing convincing arguments, but these are both v minor issues in an otherwise astonishing book.
December 23, 2020
Trigger warnings: domestic abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, rape, death, murder, death of a child, sexual abuse of children, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, systemic racism towards ATSI populations.
Holy hell. This was absolutely brutal reading from start to finish but so, SO important. The statistics were horrifying. The stories were heartbreaking. The chapter on domestic and sexual abuse in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities was utterly horrendous, and the examination of how the word of children isn't believed or considered by the court system was literally the stuff of nightmares. And yet I'm incredibly glad I read it, and it should be compulsory reading.
Holy hell. This was absolutely brutal reading from start to finish but so, SO important. The statistics were horrifying. The stories were heartbreaking. The chapter on domestic and sexual abuse in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities was utterly horrendous, and the examination of how the word of children isn't believed or considered by the court system was literally the stuff of nightmares. And yet I'm incredibly glad I read it, and it should be compulsory reading.
July 2, 2020
Domestic abuse is a crisis of our times, and Hill answered the call with the best piece of investigative journalism in the past year. This is discomforting and infuriating and Hill writes unflinchingly.
May 8, 2020
‘This is a book about love, abuse and power.’
I wasn’t going to read this book. I added it to my list when it was short-listed for the 2020 Stella Prize, and started reading it after it was announced as the winner.
I wasn’t going to read this book: I’m wary of yet another book about domestic violence. What more needs to be said? Surely, we know what the problems are, surely it’s time to move beyond shock and horror?
But, although my expectations were low, I did read the book because I wanted to try to understand why it had been chosen for the Stella Prize.
And I am glad I read it. Why? Because this book goes beyond the statistics, looks at different ways in which control is exerted and (most importantly) looks at some of the ways in which behaviours might be changed.
I could write a long, detailed summary of what I read. But I won’t: Ms Hill’s research deserves to be read and thought about firsthand. I do have some reactions to share though. Firstly, this point leapt at me:
‘The feeling of shame is biological and psychological, and the way we react to it is gendered.’
To some this will be obvious, but to me (at least) it wasn’t. What does it mean? Chapter 4 discusses shame, and how (for some) a desire for intimacy and belonging can mutate into violence through shame. And men and women generally deal with shame differently. Much of what I read in this chapter makes sense.
And secondly: this point, about patriarchy:
‘Patriarchy is not just a system populated by men; it’s one we’ve all been raised in.’
Patriarchy is covered in Chapter 5, and I was drawn to an explanation of patriarchy as a dual system of power: ‘men’s power over women, and some men’s power over other men’.
What does this mean? Consider this as an obsession with control. And control is on a spectrum: at the extreme end there is violence, but very close to violence is the behaviour often exhibited by very powerful successful men. The impression of control is important.
I kept reading. Each chapter is important, but Chapter 11 is the one that gave me most hope.
There’s discussion of different models being applied which have reduced domestic abuse:
‘Courageous people around the country are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible and getting remarkable results.’
And that’s where I’ll leave it. With a mixture of concrete examples (Chapter 11) and hope.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
I wasn’t going to read this book. I added it to my list when it was short-listed for the 2020 Stella Prize, and started reading it after it was announced as the winner.
I wasn’t going to read this book: I’m wary of yet another book about domestic violence. What more needs to be said? Surely, we know what the problems are, surely it’s time to move beyond shock and horror?
But, although my expectations were low, I did read the book because I wanted to try to understand why it had been chosen for the Stella Prize.
And I am glad I read it. Why? Because this book goes beyond the statistics, looks at different ways in which control is exerted and (most importantly) looks at some of the ways in which behaviours might be changed.
I could write a long, detailed summary of what I read. But I won’t: Ms Hill’s research deserves to be read and thought about firsthand. I do have some reactions to share though. Firstly, this point leapt at me:
‘The feeling of shame is biological and psychological, and the way we react to it is gendered.’
To some this will be obvious, but to me (at least) it wasn’t. What does it mean? Chapter 4 discusses shame, and how (for some) a desire for intimacy and belonging can mutate into violence through shame. And men and women generally deal with shame differently. Much of what I read in this chapter makes sense.
And secondly: this point, about patriarchy:
‘Patriarchy is not just a system populated by men; it’s one we’ve all been raised in.’
Patriarchy is covered in Chapter 5, and I was drawn to an explanation of patriarchy as a dual system of power: ‘men’s power over women, and some men’s power over other men’.
What does this mean? Consider this as an obsession with control. And control is on a spectrum: at the extreme end there is violence, but very close to violence is the behaviour often exhibited by very powerful successful men. The impression of control is important.
I kept reading. Each chapter is important, but Chapter 11 is the one that gave me most hope.
There’s discussion of different models being applied which have reduced domestic abuse:
‘Courageous people around the country are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible and getting remarkable results.’
And that’s where I’ll leave it. With a mixture of concrete examples (Chapter 11) and hope.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
September 22, 2019
This should be mandatory reading for every human being.
February 9, 2020
This is an incredible body of research and personal stories of domestic abuse, coercive control, and the terrorism that is family and domestic violence in this country - it's tough, uncomfortable, horrifying reading. Powerful truths, and revelation after revelation of the pain and trauma going on every day in our homes.
Stories are shocking, but accessible because they are from people Jess has interviewed, spent time with, and connected to. You can feel that in the way she tells each story.
From statistics, to well known cases, to cases we should know. Insights into the family law court processes, stories of system failures, funding cuts, and the gendered lens of violence.
"We don't want to know that the same forces that so blissfully draw us together can also become our single greatest threat".
Researched and evidence based myth slaying. The revelation of the genesis of 'Stockholm syndrome', as one of many examples, is incredible - the lengths media go to to discredit women's stories. The systemic downplaying or blatant ignoring of the issue.
The stories around the experiences of children are particularly harrowing:
"Children raised amid domestic abuse exhibit the same hypervigilance as veterans exposed to combat".
This is a book that needs to get into the hands and minds of every person in a position of power, every person who makes funding, policy and process decisions. Not only does it outline the brutal truths of domestic abuse, it provides some actual solutions that have reduced domestic homicides.
Stories are shocking, but accessible because they are from people Jess has interviewed, spent time with, and connected to. You can feel that in the way she tells each story.
From statistics, to well known cases, to cases we should know. Insights into the family law court processes, stories of system failures, funding cuts, and the gendered lens of violence.
"We don't want to know that the same forces that so blissfully draw us together can also become our single greatest threat".
Researched and evidence based myth slaying. The revelation of the genesis of 'Stockholm syndrome', as one of many examples, is incredible - the lengths media go to to discredit women's stories. The systemic downplaying or blatant ignoring of the issue.
The stories around the experiences of children are particularly harrowing:
"Children raised amid domestic abuse exhibit the same hypervigilance as veterans exposed to combat".
This is a book that needs to get into the hands and minds of every person in a position of power, every person who makes funding, policy and process decisions. Not only does it outline the brutal truths of domestic abuse, it provides some actual solutions that have reduced domestic homicides.
February 23, 2022
4.5 stars. A very good, thought provoking, sad, tragic, investigative journalism non fiction book about domestic violence, mainly focusing on Australia in the last 10 to 20 years. The author comments on a variety of domestic violence issues. What makes someone become violent towards their partner. Women are much more likely to suffer serious injury or die. The effects on children living in a violent household are very negative. The examples provided are particularly disturbing.
There are a number of tragic examples provided where legal authorities fail to protect individuals suffering from the violence inflicted on them by their partner / parent(s). The author’s commentary on the background to the plight of Aboriginal woman is very interesting. The author writes about how different countries are having success in tackling domestic violence. For example, in Latin America female police stations are having a positive affect on reducing the incidence of domestic violence.
This book was first published in 2019 and won the 2020 Stella Prize.
There are a number of tragic examples provided where legal authorities fail to protect individuals suffering from the violence inflicted on them by their partner / parent(s). The author’s commentary on the background to the plight of Aboriginal woman is very interesting. The author writes about how different countries are having success in tackling domestic violence. For example, in Latin America female police stations are having a positive affect on reducing the incidence of domestic violence.
This book was first published in 2019 and won the 2020 Stella Prize.
June 23, 2020
Where to start with this book. If you haven't read it, do so. It is so easy to say "this is a book that everyone needs to read," but this truly is a book that everyone should read.
Jess Hill has not only examined the many, often fatal flaws we have in dealing with domestic violence, she tackles the much harder questions of what drives these (mostly) men to take their anger and frustration out on those they claim to love and what actually works in stopping it. Hill turns the question from Why does she stay to the more relevant question, why does he keep abusing her?
Her meticulous research looks at the many ways we fail women and children living in domestic violence situations - not just the police, but the courts, the medical system and the various levels of government. She examines how we fail victims by failing to provide real solutions not only for them, but for the perpetrators of the violence because let's be very clear here - we will not stop this epidemic until we are willing to deal with the cause and not just the symptom.
There are so many terrifying statistics in this book, but they are not dry. They are fleshed out with some heartbreaking stories. However they are all statistics we need to hear, we need to acknowledge and we need to change. Some of the most heartbreaking stories in this book are those when women seek help and it's denied or made almost impossible to access.
Hill also addresses the reality of women who are perpetrators. She examines it just as meticulously as the other issues she addresses. The big difference she found was that a victim of female violence (whether male or female) does not face the same danger once they leave the relationship. Hill could find no evidence of someone who had left a female perpetrator being killed by their abuser. Women who leave abusive men continue to live in fear of their lives and the lives of their children, quite often for the rest of their lives.
Of the 87 thousand women killed in 2017, 30 thousand of them were by an intimate partner and 20 thousand a family member. As I type this, on June 22, 2020, Australia has lost 26 women to violence. That is one a week. (Source: https://www.facebook.com/notes/destro...). One. A. Week. Even if you don't know who they are, I guarantee you know someone affected by domestic violence. This needs to stop, not only for the women and the children who are so often the victims, but the men who need to learn a better way. If you feel overwhelmed and not sure where to start, start by reading this book. Start by taking advantage of Jess Hill's willingness to do the hard work and research and read this book.
Jess Hill has not only examined the many, often fatal flaws we have in dealing with domestic violence, she tackles the much harder questions of what drives these (mostly) men to take their anger and frustration out on those they claim to love and what actually works in stopping it. Hill turns the question from Why does she stay to the more relevant question, why does he keep abusing her?
Her meticulous research looks at the many ways we fail women and children living in domestic violence situations - not just the police, but the courts, the medical system and the various levels of government. She examines how we fail victims by failing to provide real solutions not only for them, but for the perpetrators of the violence because let's be very clear here - we will not stop this epidemic until we are willing to deal with the cause and not just the symptom.
There are so many terrifying statistics in this book, but they are not dry. They are fleshed out with some heartbreaking stories. However they are all statistics we need to hear, we need to acknowledge and we need to change. Some of the most heartbreaking stories in this book are those when women seek help and it's denied or made almost impossible to access.
Hill also addresses the reality of women who are perpetrators. She examines it just as meticulously as the other issues she addresses. The big difference she found was that a victim of female violence (whether male or female) does not face the same danger once they leave the relationship. Hill could find no evidence of someone who had left a female perpetrator being killed by their abuser. Women who leave abusive men continue to live in fear of their lives and the lives of their children, quite often for the rest of their lives.
Of the 87 thousand women killed in 2017, 30 thousand of them were by an intimate partner and 20 thousand a family member. As I type this, on June 22, 2020, Australia has lost 26 women to violence. That is one a week. (Source: https://www.facebook.com/notes/destro...). One. A. Week. Even if you don't know who they are, I guarantee you know someone affected by domestic violence. This needs to stop, not only for the women and the children who are so often the victims, but the men who need to learn a better way. If you feel overwhelmed and not sure where to start, start by reading this book. Start by taking advantage of Jess Hill's willingness to do the hard work and research and read this book.
November 13, 2020
An in-depth and heartbreaking exploration into domestic violence in Australia (and other countries) and the systemic forces that allow it to continue. It was shocking to realise that the public health approach taken to domestic violence has been poorly planned, with an almost non-existent secondary/tertiary prevention approach. Hill sheds light on the gaping failures of the legal system, police approaches, government funding and prioritisation, healthcare workers and cultural attitudes. She brings readers an urge for a much-needed reformation in how Australia tackles domestic violence.
April 21, 2020
Excellent! 4.5 Stars
More review to come for this very confronting but exceptionally well written Stella Prize Winner. Everyone should read this very important work. This sort of understanding could well give us the reduction in family violence that our societies around the world require.
Borrowed from the library as an ebook. There are copious notes and an index at the end of the book. I'll be looking for a hard copy for my personal collection to look at the notes in more depth.
More review to come for this very confronting but exceptionally well written Stella Prize Winner. Everyone should read this very important work. This sort of understanding could well give us the reduction in family violence that our societies around the world require.
Borrowed from the library as an ebook. There are copious notes and an index at the end of the book. I'll be looking for a hard copy for my personal collection to look at the notes in more depth.
March 10, 2020
Absolutely essential reading.
May 23, 2020
I have been listening to a lot of audio books over the past six months or so; mostly memoirs by women musicians, which I have loved. Over the past couple of weeks though, I listened to this book: non-fiction of a different kind from memoir, but nevertheless, one that dives deep into the lives of women, and in some instances, as it happens, echoes some of the experiences of the women whose memoirs I read.
The description of this book that accompanies its GoodReads listing is, I believe, as accurate a summary as I could hope to write, so I will leave you to read it to get a sense of what the book is about and how meticulous is Hill's research, and unfliching her voice. Although not always literally so--I listened to the audio, read by the author, and there was more than one occasion when you could hear the emotion in her voice as she read some of the more harrowing stories of abuse against (mostly) women and children. Reading this book is hard; I can barely imagine what toll writing it may have extracted.
I have felt pretty well-informed about domestic abuse for a really long time now; since childhood, almost. I am fortunate to have never experienced it myself, but I have witnessed it, in the lives of people I know, in the screams of neighbours, and on one never-forgotten experience, in the broken eyes of a woman I came across on the street while walking to a friend's house. Her name was Linda, and when I turned the corner into her street, she was outside her house, tears and snot streaming down her face, as she attempted to gather up the belongings her partner was throwing out the front door. I stopped to see if I could help her, stopped because I couldn't simply walk past and leave her in the most acute distress I think I have ever witnessed. She said she was going to catch a flight and go to her parents' house. And then her partner came out of the house with a phone: it was her father, who proceeded to tell her the man who was so clearly what Hill describes as a coercive controller, who used the highs of intense romantic love (as Linda described it to me) and the depravity of sustained and unpredictable emotional assault, was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she didn't need to think she could come home to her parents. So she went back inside. "I couldn't leave the dogs, anyway," she told me.
Her partner, by the way, threatened me with a charge of loitering. He was a cop, he said, and he'd call his mates to come and arrest me. I stood my ground, and of course, no such thing happened. Linda dragged her belongings together and went back inside. I got myself to my friends' house around the corner, and collapsed in tears.
I have never forgotten Linda and in the 20 years since, whenever I have passed the house where she lived, I have wondered if she is OK, or if she is even still alive.
See What You Made Me Do is, I believe, essential reading. I said earlier that I feel like I am pretty well-informed about domestic violence-40 years of personal feminism will do that. But more than that, I remember decades ago, I am sure when we lived at Auburn, so I was less than 14, seeing TV programs, current affairs and so on, that addressed why women didn't leave abusive husbands. I read Anne Summers' Damned Whores and God's Police when I was in high school, and I guess I also probably picked up a lot from living my whole life in a church parsonage, where my parents dealt with all kinds of trauma in the lives of their parishioners and others who came to them for help, with compassion and empathy and a total lack of judgement. But even being as well-informed as I believe I mostly have been, Hill's book shocked me and shook my understanding of both the causes and contexts of domestic abuse, and the seeming intractibility of social and judicial attitudes and dealings with victims and perpetrators alike.
It is astonishing to me that people still don't get why women "just don't leave". We've known why for 50+ years. It is astonishing and deeply depressing to me that the belief that women and children routinely make up accusations of abuse (and I am talking about the entire spectrum of abuse here, from verbal and emotional to physical and sexual assault) is not a fringe one, but mainstream. I shouldn't be: the past few years have shown me how willing individuals and institutions are to somehow explain away the actions of men who murder their wives and children, their parents and pets, and to victim-blame, but to see these attitudes entrenched still, in 2020, in the judicial system, where women are still threatened with jail if they refuse to allow their child's abuser access... well, frankly, it left me shaken and distressed, as it should.
In particular, as a teacher and a life-long advocate through my work for children and young people, the chapters dedicated to the experience of children as victims and witnesses of domestic abuse, and the way the family court has more than enabled that abuse in direct contradiction of reports and recommendations from child protection workers, teachers, and family members, and ignored the agonised pleas from the children themselves, left me reeling. I geniunely assumed that at this point in history, the courts and judges would be better informed, but alas, they remain steadfast footsoldiers of the patriarchy, regardless of the lies spun by MRAs and the like.
One section will, I believe, stay with me always. In one of the chapters, dedicated to the impact of trauma on children throughout their lives, Hill writes about the coping mechanisms children develop in order to literally survive. One of these is disassociation: the child detaches themeselves from their body in order to survive the sexual and/or physical assult. As Hill so clearly describes, this mechanism works to survive the abuse, but it does not work when disassociation takes hold in the classroom, or elsewhere. I felt a chill at that point, because I have witnessed this in students, and although I have known enough to understand that the behaviour is not naughtiness, but something else altogether more concerning, to have it so plainly explained was kind of a life-changing moment.
Hill also spends a great deal of time exploring the circumstances of Indigenous victims and perpetrators, contextualising but never excusing abuse within centuries of colonisation, and the ongoing issue of Aboriginal incarceration rates and a policing and judicial system that is already heavily weighed against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. The revelation that Aboriginal women who have called for help in domestic abuse situations have then themselves been arrested for things like unpaid fines over an UNREGISTERED DOG should make everyone in this country deeply ashamed and angry. This chapter alone makes the book worth every penny and every award; crucially, Hill lets Aboriginal people speak for themselves, as indeed, she gives voice to many victims and even perpetrators, in the interests of looking for as complete an understanding as possible. She also from time to time admits to her own misunderstandings and prejudices, which is very effective in allowing the reader to re-assess their own without judgement.
Her analysis of the historical causes of not just abuse itself, but of social and legal attitudes towards it is crucial to a full understanding and an ability to find a way forward, and not simply collapse in helpless despair (which I confess I was tempted to do more than once). (The ongoing influence of the now-discredited child psychologist Richard Gardner, who was a paedophile apologist and who made up Parental Alienation Syndrome, made me shake with rage, and reminds me of the bastard who made up the study that claimed autism was caused by vaccines: both men have the blood of thousands of people on their hands as far as I am concerned.)
As I said, the book is meticulously researched, and Hill also addresses and challenges some orthodoxies even from survivor advocates, including feminist orthodoxies, in the interests of properly unpacking what the problem is, and how it can be addressed. The final chapter, where she examines cases where specific communities have successfully and significantly reduced domestic abuse is heartening, as is her reminder that Australia has in the past successfully addresses other deeply destructive social behaviours (drink driving and smoking), and that with courage and political will, the same can be done for domestic abuse (she also calls it domestic terrorism, and rightly so).
I absolutely urge everyone to read this book, with the caveat that victims of abuse and trauma themselves may find it re-traumatising. In particular, I wish every teacher in the country would read it, to gain fuller insight into why some children behave the way they do, to understand what we are up against as we try to care for children in our schools, with sometimes not a single idea of what they may be up against at home. As a part of our school's wellbeing team, I am privvy to more information than the average classroom teacher, and I am intensely proud and in admiration of the work my school does to support our students who have experienced and continue to experience all kinds of trauma, but so much more needs to be done, and so many more people (not just teachers) need not just to understand, but to have their assumptions and attitudes broken down and rebuilt from the ground up.
Perhaps we could start by all chipping in and sending a copy to our local members.
The description of this book that accompanies its GoodReads listing is, I believe, as accurate a summary as I could hope to write, so I will leave you to read it to get a sense of what the book is about and how meticulous is Hill's research, and unfliching her voice. Although not always literally so--I listened to the audio, read by the author, and there was more than one occasion when you could hear the emotion in her voice as she read some of the more harrowing stories of abuse against (mostly) women and children. Reading this book is hard; I can barely imagine what toll writing it may have extracted.
I have felt pretty well-informed about domestic abuse for a really long time now; since childhood, almost. I am fortunate to have never experienced it myself, but I have witnessed it, in the lives of people I know, in the screams of neighbours, and on one never-forgotten experience, in the broken eyes of a woman I came across on the street while walking to a friend's house. Her name was Linda, and when I turned the corner into her street, she was outside her house, tears and snot streaming down her face, as she attempted to gather up the belongings her partner was throwing out the front door. I stopped to see if I could help her, stopped because I couldn't simply walk past and leave her in the most acute distress I think I have ever witnessed. She said she was going to catch a flight and go to her parents' house. And then her partner came out of the house with a phone: it was her father, who proceeded to tell her the man who was so clearly what Hill describes as a coercive controller, who used the highs of intense romantic love (as Linda described it to me) and the depravity of sustained and unpredictable emotional assault, was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she didn't need to think she could come home to her parents. So she went back inside. "I couldn't leave the dogs, anyway," she told me.
Her partner, by the way, threatened me with a charge of loitering. He was a cop, he said, and he'd call his mates to come and arrest me. I stood my ground, and of course, no such thing happened. Linda dragged her belongings together and went back inside. I got myself to my friends' house around the corner, and collapsed in tears.
I have never forgotten Linda and in the 20 years since, whenever I have passed the house where she lived, I have wondered if she is OK, or if she is even still alive.
See What You Made Me Do is, I believe, essential reading. I said earlier that I feel like I am pretty well-informed about domestic violence-40 years of personal feminism will do that. But more than that, I remember decades ago, I am sure when we lived at Auburn, so I was less than 14, seeing TV programs, current affairs and so on, that addressed why women didn't leave abusive husbands. I read Anne Summers' Damned Whores and God's Police when I was in high school, and I guess I also probably picked up a lot from living my whole life in a church parsonage, where my parents dealt with all kinds of trauma in the lives of their parishioners and others who came to them for help, with compassion and empathy and a total lack of judgement. But even being as well-informed as I believe I mostly have been, Hill's book shocked me and shook my understanding of both the causes and contexts of domestic abuse, and the seeming intractibility of social and judicial attitudes and dealings with victims and perpetrators alike.
It is astonishing to me that people still don't get why women "just don't leave". We've known why for 50+ years. It is astonishing and deeply depressing to me that the belief that women and children routinely make up accusations of abuse (and I am talking about the entire spectrum of abuse here, from verbal and emotional to physical and sexual assault) is not a fringe one, but mainstream. I shouldn't be: the past few years have shown me how willing individuals and institutions are to somehow explain away the actions of men who murder their wives and children, their parents and pets, and to victim-blame, but to see these attitudes entrenched still, in 2020, in the judicial system, where women are still threatened with jail if they refuse to allow their child's abuser access... well, frankly, it left me shaken and distressed, as it should.
In particular, as a teacher and a life-long advocate through my work for children and young people, the chapters dedicated to the experience of children as victims and witnesses of domestic abuse, and the way the family court has more than enabled that abuse in direct contradiction of reports and recommendations from child protection workers, teachers, and family members, and ignored the agonised pleas from the children themselves, left me reeling. I geniunely assumed that at this point in history, the courts and judges would be better informed, but alas, they remain steadfast footsoldiers of the patriarchy, regardless of the lies spun by MRAs and the like.
One section will, I believe, stay with me always. In one of the chapters, dedicated to the impact of trauma on children throughout their lives, Hill writes about the coping mechanisms children develop in order to literally survive. One of these is disassociation: the child detaches themeselves from their body in order to survive the sexual and/or physical assult. As Hill so clearly describes, this mechanism works to survive the abuse, but it does not work when disassociation takes hold in the classroom, or elsewhere. I felt a chill at that point, because I have witnessed this in students, and although I have known enough to understand that the behaviour is not naughtiness, but something else altogether more concerning, to have it so plainly explained was kind of a life-changing moment.
Hill also spends a great deal of time exploring the circumstances of Indigenous victims and perpetrators, contextualising but never excusing abuse within centuries of colonisation, and the ongoing issue of Aboriginal incarceration rates and a policing and judicial system that is already heavily weighed against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. The revelation that Aboriginal women who have called for help in domestic abuse situations have then themselves been arrested for things like unpaid fines over an UNREGISTERED DOG should make everyone in this country deeply ashamed and angry. This chapter alone makes the book worth every penny and every award; crucially, Hill lets Aboriginal people speak for themselves, as indeed, she gives voice to many victims and even perpetrators, in the interests of looking for as complete an understanding as possible. She also from time to time admits to her own misunderstandings and prejudices, which is very effective in allowing the reader to re-assess their own without judgement.
Her analysis of the historical causes of not just abuse itself, but of social and legal attitudes towards it is crucial to a full understanding and an ability to find a way forward, and not simply collapse in helpless despair (which I confess I was tempted to do more than once). (The ongoing influence of the now-discredited child psychologist Richard Gardner, who was a paedophile apologist and who made up Parental Alienation Syndrome, made me shake with rage, and reminds me of the bastard who made up the study that claimed autism was caused by vaccines: both men have the blood of thousands of people on their hands as far as I am concerned.)
As I said, the book is meticulously researched, and Hill also addresses and challenges some orthodoxies even from survivor advocates, including feminist orthodoxies, in the interests of properly unpacking what the problem is, and how it can be addressed. The final chapter, where she examines cases where specific communities have successfully and significantly reduced domestic abuse is heartening, as is her reminder that Australia has in the past successfully addresses other deeply destructive social behaviours (drink driving and smoking), and that with courage and political will, the same can be done for domestic abuse (she also calls it domestic terrorism, and rightly so).
I absolutely urge everyone to read this book, with the caveat that victims of abuse and trauma themselves may find it re-traumatising. In particular, I wish every teacher in the country would read it, to gain fuller insight into why some children behave the way they do, to understand what we are up against as we try to care for children in our schools, with sometimes not a single idea of what they may be up against at home. As a part of our school's wellbeing team, I am privvy to more information than the average classroom teacher, and I am intensely proud and in admiration of the work my school does to support our students who have experienced and continue to experience all kinds of trauma, but so much more needs to be done, and so many more people (not just teachers) need not just to understand, but to have their assumptions and attitudes broken down and rebuilt from the ground up.
Perhaps we could start by all chipping in and sending a copy to our local members.
November 24, 2022
See What you Made me Do covers domestic abuse, starting with a more psychological focus and towards the second half focussed more on the politics and overall situation in Australia.
Both sections are quite hard reading, the author does not shy away from the worst stories and images of the subject. For a person interested in the general subject probably the first half is more valuable, as this tackles many of the psychological variables of domestic abuse, and also tackles very complex subjects like gender differences.
The second half is still valuable, and probably has some general applicability, but I think feels more specific and particular to Australia, nonetheless I felt it was a worthwhile read.
Both sections are quite hard reading, the author does not shy away from the worst stories and images of the subject. For a person interested in the general subject probably the first half is more valuable, as this tackles many of the psychological variables of domestic abuse, and also tackles very complex subjects like gender differences.
The second half is still valuable, and probably has some general applicability, but I think feels more specific and particular to Australia, nonetheless I felt it was a worthwhile read.
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