A Defence of Chivalry

There is a large body of thought these days which condemns chivalry as being an old-fashioned, outdated or even chauvinist practice. There are two major groups expressing opposition to chivalry: The first group is that kind of "modern man", typically quite young, who tend to say things like "If they want equality, let them have equality"; the second is, of course, feminists and independent women who view chivalry as suggesting that women are somehow weak and need male assistance.

Chivalry can certainly be taken too far, a fact I only recently realised through the rational argument (Hi, Jess), scolding (Hi, Tayla), and sometimes outright yelling (Hi, Hannah) of my friends. Taken thus too far, it can definitely be annoying, and can indeed be chauvinist.

Even chivalry in moderation can have its origin in a chauvinistic mindset. Certainly, the origin of chivalry as a formal code emerging in medieval Europe involved significant chauvinism: hence the "damsel in distress" archetype and other artifacts of that era.

But for me at least, chivalry has changed a lot since then. This post originally started out as an attempt to define some rules of chivalry, but it didn't take long before I realised that that's not even possible any more. Lists of rules are largely useless for defining standards of behaviour; the world has gotten far too complicated for that. Chivalry is a mindset, a way of thinking which naturally leads to a certain way of acting.

It's not, as feminists sometimes assume, about "protecting the weak," although protecting the genuinely weak is certainly an important part of it. It's about appreciating women as gifts - speaking as a Christian, gifts from God. And no, feminists, that does not mean that I think for a second that I somehow own the women in my life; it means that merely knowing them, merely having them in my life, is a gift.

Take the oft-cited practice of holding doors open. I will hold the door open for a lady as a basic action of politeness. That's chivalry. I hold the door for guys as well. That's a non-specifically-named facet of politeness. Same with helping people up; I'll offer a girl my hand to help her up out of chivalry. I'll offer to help a guy up as well, because it's polite. The only functional difference is how I hold my hand out. (For the record, I've had my offer of a hand up turned down by maybe five guys ever, and by girls maybe thirty, forty times last semester alone)

There are, of course, some less equal and therefore more controversial practices associated with chivalry. Take jackets, for example. I was fairly, uh, militant about giving cold girls my jacket last semester, until my friends eventually managed to correct me.

Let's leave out the fact that guys can metabolise faster and therefore will get cold slower, since I rather doubt most guys factor metabolic rates into their chivalry. Let's also leave out the fact that statistically guys weigh more and therefore will take longer to be affected by the cold, since, you know, it's statistics and therefore only marginally applicable to real life.

Ladies, if a guy offers you his jacket, he's demonstrating the fact that he appreciates you as a friend/girlfriend/family member of your choice/beautiful woman and he doesn't want you to be cold. Take it or leave it (I previously had a problem with letting people leave it, but I'm working on it). But for crying out loud, don't get annoyed at the guy for just offering; he's being nice, he's being polite. Turn it down if you want to, give him one chance to insist just to be polite, and then maybe consider getting annoyed.

The next controversial aspect of chivalry is the whole "protect girls from bad guys" thing. Ladies, just in case you don't know, guys are bastards. I know one guy who I'd be willing to bet has no bastardliness in him, and he's seriously exceptional. And guys understand guys; it stands to reason. We can read their intentions readily and we know how best to deal with them. It's never been about an assumption that you're somehow too weak to handle it yourself. It's just that, being girls, you aren't as well-equipped to deal with guys as we are, at least not in that facet of life. Thus, we're there to look out for you.

Yes, I do believe that it's my duty to protect my female friends. I also believe that it's my duty to protect my family, particularly my younger brother (although by now he's more than capable of protecting himself), and indeed all of my friends, male as well. It's just that with my male friends, being male myself, there are very few - if any - threats that they can't protect themselves against that I would be any help with.

Finally, we have the issue of "don't hit girls," or however it was phrased when it was taught to you. Now, I don't think I've ever heard anyone except the most hardcore feminists complain about that one, but I'm going to discuss it anyway.

The objective fact is that women are more often victims and less often perpetrators of gender-related violence. This is one reference. Yes, it's Wikipedia, but you're welcome to research more deeply if you have an issue with the statistics. Also note the statement in that article that some experts think that statistics of violence against men may be proportionally inflated due to increased reporting rates and the inclusion of self-defence against abusive boyfriends/husbands in the statistics.

Through some combination of male and female psychology (and endocrinology) and the fact that the "average man" is stronger than the "average woman", men are more likely to hit women than the other way around. Testosterone is a nasty thing, especially when combined with anger. The rule exists as a failsafe; its absoluteness is there specifically so that it can override heat-of-the-moment anger.

Obviously it can be taken too far. Guys, if you're being attacked by a serial killer who happens to be female, if you get the chance, drop her. It's common sense. The rule exists to stop actions in anger from going too far; that's all.

So yeah. Chivalry isn't about strong men protecting weak women: it's an aspect of the greater area of politeness and common decency which is important enough to us to give it a name of its own.

Please don't pitchfork me. Ciao.