How radical accountability and abolitionist care can guide us away from systemic male violence

“Harm is political, and so is the antidote.”

Spoken by Meggan Baker at SLEEC’s launch event for their book Radical Accountability in a Messed Up World, these words underpinned every aspect of the hour-long conversation held at the Malcolm X Centre on 17th June. The discussion unpacked the systems that allow male violence to thrive, and the practical ways we can strip it from its normalised position in society.

Alongside founders of SLEEC (Survivors Leading Essential Education & Change) Meggan Baker and Bryony Ball, the panel discussion included Almas Talib from Abolitionist Healing and masculinities educator Lewis Wedlock. Guided by Yaz Brien, they explored how ongoing accountability and community care can dismantle patriarchal belief systems.

I was glad to see such a big turnout, and I was moved by the intense, emotional, and inspiring conversation that held space for survivors while imagining a new approach to accountability. Instead of punishing and ostracising, this approach instead interrogates men’s capacity for harm while treating accountability as an act of love – both for your community and for people you don’t know – where fear is dismantled and replaced with curiosity.

I’m a strong believer in non-punitive abolitionism, and being in this space showed just how powerful a new way of thinking can feel – but I did feel a little surprised to be hearing this perspective that opposed what I so often hear from women in my life: that there is no shame in punishing men for actions that cause extreme harm. And as somebody who benefits from male privilege, that perspective has shaped how I’ve grown into this world, and how I engage with people to avoid causing harm that I see so many AFAB (Assigned Female At Birth) people have experienced.

I guess without context, it can feel short-sighted, or perhaps too forgiving to seemingly ‘reduce’ how much we punish those who commit extreme male violence. “We are all struggling with deep rage,” Bryony Ball told us frankly at the event, while drawing stark comparisons between the Filton 4’s 26-year sentencing as terrorists and the zero convictions following the release of the Epstein files.

The book’s opening line reads, “This book is dedicated to all the women who have been murdered by men, and all the women who have lost years of their lives trying to hold men to account.” Living with the reality of systemic trauma means that attempting to move away from punishment, incarceration, revenge and cancel culture as answers is not easy, but this approach is designed to be a more effective solution for long-lasting change: by more vulnerably accessing men’s patriarchal minds.

SLEEC’s position is informed by abolitionism and a politics of compassion, the two of which are inextricable from one another. Abolitionism is built on the idea of love: non-punitive, radical love. But a punitive society is built around punishment – which, as Almas Talib emphasised, removes any incentive to admit harm.

Talib added that in a punitive society, “There are no models where you don’t lose.” This means we ignore the parts of ourselves that are pushed into the shadows, and when they’re neglected, we don’t learn how to hold or transform the potential of harm within them.

As someone who works with traumatised children, I found this perspective reassuring, as it aligns completely with the approach of therapeutic parenting. Punishment does not address the value system that births harmful behaviour. Understanding our emotions, needs and past experiences within the context of a wider society is what helps us grow into more conscious people.

Listen, repair, and take action. Without men learning that the patriarchy is at the root of male violence, systemic violence and unequal power dynamics won’t change. Accountability must become a practice, and to do this, men need to be able to access vulnerability and self-honesty, to hold up a mirror to their bias and look closely at their bad parts. Whether it’s an impulse to seek dominance, or downplaying female perspectives and genuine harm caused, feeling encouraged to look inward with compassionate honesty can help address deep-rooted patriarchal patterns.

Lewis Wedlock explained how easy it is for men to remove themselves from the idea of harm. Internally drawing a distinction between the ‘harmed’ and the ‘harmer,’ the ego can be quick to dismiss any idea that they themselves can be the perpetrator. They may think that they don’t look how they imagine a misogynist would look, or that they don’t cause the kind of harm that they see “real abusers” inflict.

I was raised as a boy, and still benefit from male privilege as an adult non-binary person. This conversation was important for me to hear: I feel guilty about the times in my adolescence when I acted inappropriately towards women, but I now view myself as ‘good,’ or even ‘reformed’ as I have since learned not to behave like that. I am no longer pushy or dismissive, and have developed a more intimate understanding of how to behave respectfully and maturely.

But SLEEC’s book invited me to consider aspects of male privilege that I hadn’t fully realised. “This book is for feminists, for those who give a shit,” Meggan and Bryony stated at the event. As it guides readers through the ways in which a patriarchal system increases male power and normalises violence against women, it shows how easy it is to obliviously contribute to this harmful system, even while ‘consciously’ working on being less misogynistic.

The standard for male accountability has largely been set by emotionally unavailable fathers and self-centred, emotionally inept men. The expectations put on men include feeling powerful, superior and unaffected; to never make mistakes means to never admit wrongdoing. These are systemic reasons behind a man’s capacity for self-accountability being poor.

So, really, it isn’t that noble or challenging to fix your behaviour within the constraints of your existing knowledge. I have done this: telling myself that not being a creep, being respectful, and actively centering female perspectives means that I’m free from the shackles of a patriarchal mind. I’m not. Even as a non-binary person, male privilege is part of who I am: how I view my achievements, what I accept as normal, and whose opinions I value more. It’s a part of my inner world that has always existed within a ubiquitously misogynistic reality, one where I’ve socially benefited from acting like a man.

And our inner worlds can quickly become small. If you convince yourself enough times that you’ve done the work, then it’s easy to never register the many deep-rooted ways in which you continue to perpetuate the patriarchy. Where have you prioritised men over women in your life? How have you personally contributed to women feeling unsafe? Do you think violence is part of being a man? These are some of the incredibly poignant questions asked in Radical Accountability in a Messed Up World that aim to encourage a more tangible, ongoing practice of accountability.

This is ego work that goes further than just checking yourself. It informs a new internal reality, informed by women’s perspectives and extensive research that the SLEEC book covers clearly and comprehensively.

Honestly, I sometimes wonder how much my own guilt has informed my being non-binary. How desperately I want to distance myself from the actions of a male society that acts with privilege and abuses that power. I remind myself that, no, being non-binary is much more of a deep alignment than a rejection. But the discussion at SLEEC’s event helped me realise why this feeling occasionally appears, and made me question how differently I would engage with my past behaviour if I had acted that way in a non-punitive society: one where I could explore these feelings intimately and openly, without fear of being ostracised.

I have actively faced my own wrongdoings. I’ve always believed that being transparent and making amends where appropriate is the right approach, but I’ve still held beliefs rooted in a punitive and ego-centric narrative. I tell myself I’m terrible for having done wrong, that I’m virtuous for apologising, that I’m brave for being self-aware, that I’m disciplined for correcting the behaviour. I attach these virtues to my decisions to change my actions and beliefs, but these have largely lived within my own understanding of right and wrong, informed by women in my life whose experiences I’ve heard, but without ever going deeper by reading feminist and activist literature to truly interrogate the roots of my actions. Radical Accountability in a Messed Up World revealed gaps in my understanding that I should have filled years ago.

The book also provides a clear approach to accountability. Broken down into four steps, each with a set of questions and prompts that trigger a truer sense of responsibility, the book demonstrates how attainable it is to live a life that’s more equitable, and more compassionate. As Meggan Baker explained at the event, “Radical accountability is one of the deepest forms of liberation.”

What Bryony Ball and Meggan Baker have achieved here is a triumph, providing a comprehensive handbook for men to address the deep-rooted manifestations of a patriarchal system that live within them. Although it’s painful that men aren’t building the way out, this inward work is how systems of male violence can be dismantled.

But the work doesn’t end there, as individuals. “You can’t hold someone to account if you’re not in community with them. The work of abolitionism is creating interconnected communities and mycelial networks who hold and genuinely love each other,” Almas explained at the event, emphasising that this is something to achieve collectively, without having to rely on a harmful system of policing.

“Abolitionism is a belief that something else is possible,” Almas continued. The speakers have hope: they see more people wanting to do the work than rejecting it. As Lewis Wedlock attests, men and boys are responding positively to this education, and their behaviour improves as a result of it.

A new world of gender equality is being shaped by survivors, activists and educators. As Lewis Wedlock put it, “On the other side of this is more connection than you could ever dream of.”