Month: March 2024

Personal Violence v Structural Violence

by Urban Warrior Princess

This was part of my End-of-Module assessment during my second level of study with the Open University towards a BA (Hons) in Criminology & Psychology (Róisín Pitman, 2022)

(picture of Sara Reed, a vulnerable young woman who was needlessly incarcerated – she took her own life in 2016 – https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2017/jul/04/sarah-reed-mentally-ill-woman-died-in-cell-after-monitoring-was-reduced-inquest-hears )

Violence is physical harm inflicted by one individual on another. With reference to at least two blocks from the module, explain how the concept of structural violence takes us beyond this definition.

My police training in 1982 defined ‘assault’, interpersonal violence, as an attempt threat or offer, by some physical act, to inflict unlawful force upon another, with the apparent ability to carry it out. According to Tombs (2018), ‘structural violence’ takes us from the interpersonal to a phenomenon that affects people directly and indirectly, in mainly socio-economically deprived areas, lacking education and work opportunities and who receive unequal treatment due to their ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, societal or immigration status. Policies are created by the state which protect the powerful but control, and have power over, those of a lower social standing. Gilligan (1996) cited in Tombs (2018) claimed that there were increased death rates and disability suffered by the lowest classes which led to accepting this as a form of ‘violence.’ To illustrate this, examples will be used with regards to the inequality of the penal system in the cases of Sarah Reed and Lavinia Woodward; the powerlessness of a working-class environment in fighting big business (Sonae factory, Liverpool) and a crossover when personal violence also includes structural violence with regards to rough sleepers.

The cases of Sarah Reed and Lavinia Woodward appear similar. Both women were facing assault charges, had mental health issues but received very different outcomes due to structural violence. Lavinia Woodward, was a young white Oxford university medical student from an affluent family with homes in the UK and Europe and access to the best lawyers and, due to her drug addiction, access to private rehabilitation facilities. Sarah Reed was a young black woman from a deprived area, with mental health problems, due to the death of a child. While in a state mental health institution, she was sexually assaulted, but it was Sarah who was remanded to prison for defending herself. Placed in solitary confinement, her medication and visits withdrawn, she took her own life after three months (Rowe, 2021). It was Woodward who committed the most serious assault, stabbing a boyfriend. She was allowed bail, to leave the country, breached her bail conditions but was never incarcerated. She admitted the assault but walked away with probation from a sympathetic Judge. (Yorke, 2017).  Sarah received the most horrendous structural violence due to her working-class background, poverty and ethnicity and her unjust incarceration led to her death.

Another example of structural violence is when a whole community is structurally violated while the government portrayed the decision as being hugely beneficial to a poverty-stricken area. In 1999 the Liverpool ward of Kirkby, one of the poorest in the United Kingdom, were told by politicians that siting a wood particle board manufacturer within the community would boost the economy and create employment. Positioned a hundred metres from habitation, the Sonae factory caused problems from the beginning. Regular complaints  were made in relation to staff safety standards, incidences of fires, dust explosions and lack of monitoring of toxic fumes. The dust emanating from the towers settled on private property over two miles away and appeared to cause numerous health issues among the residents, especially from the carcinogen formaldehyde. The company received many prohibition notices and fines and despite three employees dying in two different incidents the authorities were reticent about finding blame. Due to Kirkby’s socially deprived area it was easier for the authorities to avoid objections before and during Sonae’s existence which ended in 2012 (Copson & Tombs, 2018).

Structural violence allows us to explore the state and their policies and laws that seek to control our lives rather than individual violence against the person. One area where there is crossover between individual violence and structural violence is when dealing with ‘rough sleepers. Due to the current economic hardships felt in society, there is an explosion of people who find themselves sleeping rough in public. Cooper (2016) cited in Tombs (2018) highlights the physical violence regularly suffered by rough sleepers including physical and sexual assault, verbal abuse and theft of what little they have or having their meagre belongings damaged. However, they also must contend with structural violence administered by the state such as the offence of vagrancy, taking discarded food from supermarket waste and fines for receiving money through begging; fines they can invariably not afford and therefore are entered into the prison system purely for being without home or habitation. (Cooper and Mc Culloch, 2017) cited in Tombs (2018). Many of these people have mental health issues that are compounded by incarceration.

In conclusion, the concept of structural violence takes us beyond the general understanding of violence; a physical assault by one or more persons on another. Structural violence can affect anyone, even if they are unaware that they are a victim. It can affect the more socio-economically deprived communities, other ethnicities, gender, members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and trans community (LGBTQ+), the disabled, homeless, mentally ill and immigrants who often feel abandoned by the state and treated less well than the more dominant and affluent demographics.

Structural violence against ethnic minorities was illustrated with the ill-treatment of Sarah Reed in Holloway prison while a rich white student effectively suffered few consequences for her violent actions. Sonae factory and its practices, in Kirkby, committed structural violence, not only on its employees but a whole community and finally one saw the crossover, from interpersonal violence, committed against the homeless by other humans, to the structural violence metered out by the state, by legal sanctions, against a vulnerable group of people.

References

Copson, L. and Tombs, S. (2021) ‘Exploring harms of the powerful’ [Video] DD212 Criminological theories and concepts. Week 24; Section 2. Available at

https://learn2.open.ac.uk/mod/oucontent/view.php?id=1750177&section=2

(Accessed 5 June 2022)

Rowe, A. (2021), ‘Self-inflicted deaths in prison’[Video] DD212 Criminological theories and concepts.  Week 3; Section 2. Available at

https://learn2.open.ac.uk/mod/oucontent/view.php?id=1750130&section=2

(Accessed 5 June 2022)

Tombs, S. (2018), ‘Structural violence’ in Cooper, V. and Phoenix, J. (eds) Criminological theories and concepts 2, Milton Keynes, The Open University, pp.243-271.

Yorke, H. (2017), ‘Lavinia Woodward: Oxford student ‘too bright’ for prison is spared jail for stabbing boyfriend’ [Online] The Telegraph. Telegraph Media Group.

Available at https://advance-lexis-com.libezproxy.open.ac.uk/document/index?crid=6e4ab3b4-ba42-4b70-be4d-989c81a29c02&pdpermalink=5a5e474a-18db-4ee7-98c3-d0f0910a01e0&pdmfid=1519360&pdisurlapi=true

(Accessed 5 June 2022)

RESPECT IS A TWO-WAY STREET

by Urban Warrior Princess

Respect is a Two Way Street

First published 3, December 2013 on Musings of an AikiBean Blogsport

There have been many instances where you hear on the news that someone has been assaulted on the street for not showing enough ‘respect’ to the assailant. Ah, this old fashioned word being used by some of the street dwellers because they believe that their mere presence on a street in their neighbourhood means that anyone passing through has to show a degree of deference to them for no other reason that they ‘demand’ it, neigh, expect it.

When I was growing up we learned respect from an early age; respect for one’s elders, respect for your teachers, respect for the police. This magical word ‘respect’ was used to show due deference to people with life experience, local standing or positions of authority. I was taught to give up my seat on a bus for an adult, not just an elderly or disabled passenger but any adult. All teachers at school were Sir or Miss, never John or Sarah. In many cases this tradition continued many years after leaving one’s alma mater. We didn’t question this life lesson given at the knee of our parents, it was just the way it was.

I have run a martial arts club since 1987 when I was a 1st Kyu. The reasoning behind this was that, as we had no black belt to take instruction from within the island, I would travel to the home of my English mentor on a regular basis and would be encouraged to begin teaching aikido classes to those that were happy to take instruction from a non-black belt. I didn’t even think about whether the students who trained with me in the early days respected me. I suppose in some way they must have, given that they kept coming back for more classes, but the idea that they somehow respected me, didn’t enter into my thoughts. I did however respect them greatly for giving me the chance to share my interpretation of aikido. Indeed I respect any person who walks through the dojo door to undertake instruction and the sharing of aikido practise with me. I am merely a student like them but one who is a little further along the path. After all, the word sensei means “person born before another” or “one who comes before”, which implies one who teaches based on wisdom gained from age and experience.

I have never asked for or expected any student in my dojo to call me ‘sensei’ or ‘kanchō’. My name is Roisin or Rosh. However, many students do refer to me by that title although I have never insisted upon it. They may have been schooled by other senior students to refer to me in that manner but it has never been a dojo ‘rule’. I leave it up to them.

When visiting instructors are on the tatame in my dojo I will personally always refer to them as ‘sensei’ whether they be senior or junior to me in grade as I think it is the right way to address them in front of my students. Respect is earned and should never be demanded.

There have been dojos that I have visited, not just aikido ones, where they appear to be trying to mimic the atmosphere of their interpretation of an austere style Japanese dojo in the way that everyone behaves and conducts their business. No talking, no explanations, often taking their interpretation of such a ‘dojo’ and ratcheting it up a notch or two. Some have even been known to change their names by deed poll to that of a Japanese family name just, in their eyes, to add to the authenticity. This is obviously in the minority but it does happen.

I have witnessed, in the past, a group of visiting martial arts (not Aikido) teachers in the bar of a local hotel deep in conversation when a new and enthusiastic student inadvertently entered their clique and proceeded to join in the conversation. Presumptuous; possibly, rude; probably, but if my opinion maybe he should have been quietly taken to one side by a senior student and reminded of what social etiquette dictates in those circumstances. Instead, the senior guy at the bar shouted at this poor unfortunate newbie in front of dozens of other people and commanded him to drop to the floor and ‘give me 20’ (ie twenty press ups, in a licensed bar, while wearing his best suit). The new student visibly reddened and quickly dropped to the floor where his utter humiliation was complete. This is not showing respect to your student. This was bullying and has no place in a dojo or in any social situation.

As a ‘sensei’, a person, a person perceived as possessing more life experience and wisdom that those that follow, you have a tremendous influence upon some peoples’ lives so be sure that you never abuse that privilege.

And remember, Respect is a Two Way Street. 

The Dojo is not the street

by Urban Warrior Princess

(This article was originally written on 11 January 2012 and appeared on ‘Musings of an AikiBean’ blog by Róisín Pitman)

A dojo is, to all intents and purposes a classroom, a place of enlightenment, somewhere to study your martial art, practise movement and technique and share your experience with others. However, the dojo is not the street.

No matter how many martial arts classes claim to teach ‘street self defence’ in essence you are usually getting a watered down version of the martial art offered by that particular school and paired with the instructors own belief on what is required outside the dojo in a ‘real life’ situation. There are many martial arts instructors throughout the world, who are highly skilled and proficient in their chosen art, who have never experienced the ‘fear’ and ‘danger’ of a REAL life violent altercation.

It amuses me somewhat, when visiting certain martial arts forums on the world wide web, when you read posts claiming that this martial art is ‘the best’ for combat and that martial art is no good because it is not ‘real’. You get phrases like ‘No holds barred’ and ‘no rules’ martial arts. If there is a combat area, ring or cage with a referee, then it is not, nor ever will be ‘no holds barred’. Even for this type of popular sport as in all MMA (mixed martial arts) contests there are rules that both fighters have to abide by. Often an opponent ‘taps out’ meaning that when a lock, choke or technique becomes unbearable they ‘tap’ to indicate to their opponent and the referee that they can no longer continue. The referee then stops the fight. Therefore, these types of contests are controlled by a third person ie the referee and are not a ‘no holds barred’ contest. If you take a ‘no holds barred’ contest literally, it will mean that the protagonists fight on until one is either incapacitated or killed; no holds barred means no rules. This would never happen in any organised sporting arena, especially in this litigation crazy health and safety era.

There are many martial arts that are competitive and therefore, during sparring or competition, the element of adrenaline is introduced to the equation. Being able to control the adrenaline flow during competition is paramount if you are to perform to your maximum potential. However, the adrenaline flow that pumps during a real altercation is what I would refer to as the ‘Fear Factor’. It is a natural reaction that heightens the senses and prepares the physical body for a ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ scenario. If you can control it then you will have more chance to react naturally and instinctively to such a situation. If that reaction is that you run away in the face of a potentially violent altercation then you have succeeded in avoiding confrontation. If you panic and start hyperventilating you may not be able to function in a normal physical or mental way. None of this can be re-created in the dojo, as it is impossible to introduce the element of reality. The dojo is a place of safety no matter how hard the sparring or training becomes.

In a competitive martial arts contest, even though the adrenaline of competition is flowing, each of the contestants know that the other will be conforming to the same set of rules as laid down by the organising body. On the street, you do not have that luxury, as physical altercations are wildly unpredictable and can include the use of weapons or ordinary objects adapted for use as weapons. There is also the possibility that there will be more than one assailant. The street has NO rules.

In an aikido dojo you practise movement, technique, breathing, internalisation and blending with a partner and all of these things assist us in our general health and wellbeing. Techniques are practised repeatedly in a ritualised format to help the student learn to eventually react to different movements without having to think; to have a clear mind under pressure, a state of Mushin. The only missing element in the dojo, in any dojo, is ‘reality’.

NB. – Róisín is a retired police officer and current professional door security supervisor and trainer. She regularly works on the door of pubs, clubs, the party boat, festivals and events and is a nationally qualified door security trainer, qualifying and requalifying Jersey’s door men and women.