Reformas en la Secretaría de Estado o Papal

All of the above leads us back to the questions posed earlier - how would discussion of the social bond look if framed in explicitly feminist terms? How should we view Scheff’s initial notions of ‘reciprocal ratification’, and would this new perspective alter our understanding of the related ideas of social solidarity and alienation? How might we now view the women’s accounts of feelings of shame? Bear in mind Scheff’s description of the bond as depending upon “‘reciprocal ratification’ of each of the parties by the other as ‘legitimate participants’ in the relationship…reciprocal ratification of each other’s participation involves both feelings and actions of legitimation (1990, p.7). Note also that dominant contemporary understandings of heterosexual coupledom in this country, whatever the advances of feminism, are still based largely upon a series of unwritten and generally unspoken rules governing the performance of gendered identities (Gavey, 1992; Wilcox, 2006). In the main, these place men in the position of ‘controller’ and women in that of ‘controlled’; gendered relations of dominance and submission. In such a

patriarchal social context, based upon clearly gendered and unmistakably inequitable power relations, establishing legitimacy of participation within a heterosexual intimate relationship arguably makes the reciprocal ratification of positions of control and

controlled necessary if its participants are to conform to everyday conventions. From this perspective, social solidarity (a notion closely linked to maintenance of the status quo) and the preservation of ‘normal’ social bonds would become problematic without this reciprocal ratification (by both partners) of unequal and potentially oppressive power relations within the relationship.

So what do these comments mean in terms of the analysis of the participants accounts offered above? The main shift is that the bonds between those involved in abusive relationships come now to be seen as entirely functional and operating smoothly in the interests of social solidarity and preservation of the patriarchal status quo, at least as long as each party holds a similar understanding of the ‘proper’ performance of gendered identities. In these circumstances, each would understand and ratify the feelings and actions of the other in line with dominant understandings of their rights and

responsibilities as controller and controlled; their day-to-day interactions playing out in accordance with conventional understandings of gender identities, identities based largely upon relations of dominance and submission between men and women. From this

perspective the bonds formed within abusive relationships are revealed as extremely secure, rather than insecure and threatened. Solidarity becomes now to be expected, rather than surprising and in a way reminiscent of the earlier formulation of the

‘Stockholm Syndrome’, offers a glimmer of understanding of the seemingly inexplicable loyalty demonstrated, at least initially, by many victims (including a number of those participating in this study) towards their abusers. This sense of solidarity also goes some way towards deepening our understanding of the apparent ‘collusion’ of many victims of violence in their abuse. Secrecy around the abuse and protection of their abuser becomes understandable and an entirely rational expression of their primary connection to their abuser; the one with whom a secure social bond is something considered vital. Use of the concept of the social bond in a feminist context then clearly requires some development, especially in terms of providing more explicit acknowledgement and understanding of the workings of gendered power relations and the societal context within which these occur. This becomes most apparent in terms of the final element of Scheff’s bond – shame. As he notes, shame is described as resulting from some

awareness of inadequacy, worthlessness, failure, defect or the like. Yet failing an account of the social power relationships and discourses structuring social interaction, there is no way to explore in any depth where this awareness stems from. Against what measure is one judged – or judges oneself, to be inadequate? Against what standard is one seen to have failed? What measure of worthiness is in use here? How does an individual come to see themselves – or be seen by others, as defective? And, perhaps most importantly, whose interests are best served by the shameful experiences of intimate victimization? Hidden from view is anything other than a superficial understanding of the potential strains and conflicts involved in the management of the broad range of social bonds connecting the often disparate strands of each individual’s life. Equally as hidden are the ways in which a sense of shame can be generated by and in maintenance of these bonds.

In short, the manner in which (and why) shame comes into being is something Scheff presents as requiring little explanation. Shame is seen as natural, virtually inevitable in some circumstances, and certainly unproblematic and easily understandable in many instances. However, as the work of Norbert Elias (1978, 1982 & 1983) (work drawn on by Scheff) clearly demonstrates, shame is a far from natural and/or inherent human characteristic and is in fact entirely socially, culturally and historically contingent. His work traces the ways in which our understanding of shame (and how and why we should experience it) are socially and culturally constructed and dependant upon the distribution of power within social relationships, rather than a priori aspects of human behaviour. While the emotion most unmistakably social in genesis, shame is also the emotion that points out most sharply the painfully isolated nature of our individuality – a point largely overlooked by Scheff. In this case shame becomes not just the premier social emotion, as Scheff argues, but also the premier personal/individual emotion. It is the feeling that makes us most aware of our individual selves and of our personal/individual

responsibility for the behaviour/deportment/appearance of our individual bodies – a point emphasized in the work of Erving Goffman as discussed in chapter 3. As individuals we ostensibly have choices – albeit clearly socially mandated choices – and shame signals our failure to make the correct or appropriate choices. As individuals we choose, act, or fail to do either. It is as individuals that we are found wanting – but it is against purely social yardsticks that this failure is known and/or experienced.

In the case of abuse however, and most especially in relation to intimate abuse, these ‘yardsticks’ – and the emotional responses attached to any failure to ‘measure up’, cannot be left unquestioned. If shame (the emotional warning of bond threat) is a response to failure to adequately perform (conform to) purely socially constructed identities (wife/mother/woman/victim), and if rectifying this failure (or in Scheff’s terms,

‘readjusting behaviour’) involves acceptance of ongoing abuse (for example, returning to an abusive spouse to preserve the marital relationship), then to present shame as a vital and entirely normal response perpetuates a destructive status quo. Abuse remains an individual ‘problem’, best dealt with by individually or family focussed intervention,

with wider societal responsibility (as opposed to the provision of support and censure) avoided yet again. Virtually all necessity for challenge to the ways in which dominant discourses enable and perpetuate women’s victimization is masked once more.