Military deployment, masculinity and trauma: reviewing the connections.
Fox, John ; Pease, Bob
The impact of combat-related trauma upon military personnel has
long been a concern of psychological/psychiatric literature since at
least World War I (Wessely, 2006). While the psychological health
consequences of the Vietnam war are still being suffered by veterans, in
more recent years veterans returning from contemporary war zones,
including Bougainville, Cambodia, East Timor, Aceh, Iraq and Afghanistan
are demonstrating the same psychological costs of warfare. However, due
to the changing nature of warfare, the incidence of combat-related
trauma has extended beyond those directly involved in combat to those in
support roles. More recently, trauma has also been experienced by
personnel engaged in peacekeeping deployments, such as Somalia (Fontana,
2000), where, notwithstanding the different purpose of the deployment
and residual reliance on armed responses, the risk of combat and of
serious harm to military personnel is a central feature of their
deployment. Hence, it is referred to as "deployment trauma" in
this article so as to recognise its experience outside of combat.
Whilst the subject of attention for some time as "shell
shock," "war neurosis," "combat fatigue," and
"combat stress" within military contexts (Jones and Wesseley,
2003), it was only recently that deployment trauma was formally
recognised as sharing much in common with other forms of trauma. In
1980, in large part in response to the experiences of veterans of the
Vietnam War and advocacy on their behalf (Wesseley & Jones, 2004),
the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM)
introduced the new category of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
Prior to the Vietnam War, responses to deployment trauma had been
dominated by "forward psychiatry," which emphasised treatment
promixate to the field of combat (predominantly in the form of rest) and
the soldier's return to active duty in the interests of supporting
the war effort (Jones & Wesseley, 2003). Recovery was anticipated
and its delay suspect. Morgan (1994) has suggested that the lack of
public support for the war in Vietnam, together with the changing
character of the military since that time (including the higher
participation of women and of civilian personnel in combat and related
activities), enabled a broader view of deployment trauma to develop in
recent times. Since then the possibility of considering deployment
trauma as sharing much in common with other forms of trauma has emerged.
It is no longer the exclusive domain of the military. However, the
causes and appropriate responses to deployment trauma remain uncertain.
Most of the academic literature considering veterans'
experience of trauma has focused upon individual characteristics. Little
consideration appears to have been given to broader social influences,
especially the social construction of masculinity and the standards of
manhood and manliness it promotes. Because the armed forces are a
gendered male culture, ideas of manliness have long formed part of the
context within which deployment trauma was considered (Karner, 1994).
There are indications that these ideas about masculinity and manhood
continue to influence men's experiences of deployment trauma
(Wesley, 2006).
However, it is our argument that men's experiences of
deployment trauma is less well understood in the context of gender than
women's experience of violence-related trauma, in which the
significant influence of gender has been more widely recognised. For
example, a consideration and revision of ideas about traditional
femininities has been a long-standing and key feature of feminist
responses to women's experience of, and recovery from, the
traumatic experience of violence, namely sexual abuse, rape and domestic
violence (Brown, 2004, Brooks, 1990, Burstow, 2003, Humphreys, 2004).
UNDERSTANDING TRAUMA
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, as a framework for understanding
and interpreting deployment trauma, is highly contested in some of the
trauma literature (Burstow, 2003). It is generally considered to be
caused by the "impact of an extreme stressor critical incident on
an individual's psychological and biological functioning"
(American Psychiatric Association, quoted in Mejia, 2005, p. 30). Whilst
covering a range of experiences, these incidents typically involve
exposure to a traumatic event that involved actual or threatened injury
to a person with accompanying feelings of "intense fear,
helplessness or horror' (Burstow, 2003, p. 1296). It is primarily
concerned with the subjective experience of, and response to, those
events, including the experience of loss of control of self (Harney et
al., 1997; Calhoun & Tedeschi, 1999) which can be profound and
pervasive. Moreover, trauma involves more than disruption of one's
identity, but extends to the experience of, and assumptions about, the
world in which the person lives (Larrabee et al., 2003). These
assumptions are not those of the traumatized person alone, but are drawn
from, and shared with, a wider community. The disruption of an
individual's experience of trauma is thus not only a personal
event, but an intensely social event as well.
CONVENTIONAL APPROACHES TO THEORISING TRAUMA
Conventional approaches to deployment trauma, however, do not
appear to have considered the depth of the social character of the self,
and, thereby, trauma. This is in part because they tend to rely upon an
assumption that an individual person is substantially continuous and
largely comprehensible as a separate, independent entity. A person may
be stimulated or motivated by external factors, but remains the same
person regardless. His or her self is only profoundly changed by
external factors in extraordinary circumstances, and then usually
changed in the sense of the abnormal or dysfunctional.
In this view, trauma is one of the exceptional external factors
such that the focus of much research and practice is on the traumatic
event itself, on the particular, extraordinary, external influence and
not on other, much more everyday, influences. Understanding trauma then
becomes a search for the unusual. The contemporary interest in risk
factors, particularly previous experience of trauma reflects this focus
(Hourani et al., 2003 and Schnurr et al., 2004). This was one of the key
criticisms of the original definition of PTSD, with its emphasis on an
experience outside of the ordinary, made by those working within
critical theory, particularly those dealing with women's experience
of violence. Feminists successfully argued that the connections between
rape, abuse and domestic violence and gender, and their links with
long-standing and influential cultural norms, allowed the foundations of
these forms of violence to be treated as within "normal"
experience and thereby prevented their recognition as key contributors
to trauma (Brown, 2004; Burstow, 2003; Humphreys, 2004).
The specialised literature in relation to combat-related PTSD is a
prime example of the emphasis upon exceptional external influences.
Until recently, it tended to focus upon the nature and impact of the
particular encounter as the dominant aspect of the trauma. Moreover,
notwithstanding the current interest in prior events as influencing the
risk of combat trauma, the focus remains upon exceptional events and not
those practices and beliefs that might be broadly accepted and enacted.
The sharp divide drawn between a person and the
"external" environment, however, has substantial shortcomings,
as it fails to capture some of the key features of humanity. It fails to
capture the manner in which individuals resemble each other, adopt
similar practices, and experience similar treatment on the basis of some
common characteristic, such as race or gender. Moreover, it fails to
capture the intimate influence of those relationships, an influence so
deep as to blur the divide between the "internal" and
"external." Through its emphasis upon the exceptional, it
fails to perceive the connections between trauma and everyday
experience.
Each person is born into a way of life, a way of acting, of
speaking and thinking. Each person is born into an existing conversation
or discourse about how, for example, a man or a woman should act or feel
in particular circumstances. From this perspective, identity involves
the appropriation of available materials, terms and positions to narrate
a story about one's self (Pease, 1999). It is, from the outset,
intimately "external."
The reactions of different people to the same traumatizing event
may then be explained, to some degree, by reference to differences in
people's sense making about themselves, rather than to prior
events, which tends to be the focus in much "risk factor"
research. Each person will have different resources and restrictions
shaping how they experience and respond to trauma. Military personnel
will each serve in the midst of several ongoing conversations about what
it means to be a good or "normal" man. Whilst not all men on
military deployment experience trauma or difficulties in dealing with
it, their gender is a key part of who they are and a key determinant of
their strengths and weaknesses in relation to traumatic experiences.
TRAUMA AND THE FAILURE TO CONFORM TO MASCULINE IDEALS
Ideas about gender are one of the earliest and most pervasive
conversations a person participates in. Gender, as one of those
conversations, is not determined by a person's biology; it is not
simply dictated by their sex. Rather, it is learned, and varies between
different societies, and even over time within the one society.
There is an enormous volume of literature on men and masculinities.
Theoretical approaches have ranged from psychoanalytical (Frosh, 1994),
Jungian (Tacey, 1997) and sex role theories (Pleck, 1987) through to
materialist (Hearn, 1987) and discursive approaches (Edley and
Wetherell, 1997). In this article, we argue that gender and masculinity
are socially constructed throughout life. Following Connell (2000), we
believe it is most useful to understand masculinities as involving six
key dimensions:
1. Multiple masculinities arise from different cultures, different
historical periods and different social divisions.
2. Different positions are reflected in these multiple
masculinities in relation to power, with some forms of masculinity
hegemonic and dominant while other masculinities are marginalized and
subordinated.
3. Institutionalized masculinities are embedded in organisational
structures and in the wider culture, as well as being located within
individual men.
4. Embedded masculinities are represented physically in how men
engage with the world.
5. Masculinities are produced through the actions of individual
men.
6. Fluid masculinities change in relation to the reconstructive
efforts of progressive men in response to the changes in the wider
society.
Within this theoretical context, Connell (2001) identifies
hegemonic masculinity as the culturally dominant form of masculinity
that is manifested in a range of different settings. Such masculinity is
promoted as a desirable attainment for boys and young men to strive
towards. It is presented as heterosexual, aggressive, authoritative and
courageous (Connell, 2001). The manliness of men and boys is judged by
their ability to measure up to this idealised notion of masculinity.
This is even more so in relation to men in the military (Higate, 2003).
Connell's (2000) identification of forms of marginalized and
subordinate masculinities is also useful in understanding the
relationship between gender and its intersections with other dimensions of stratification such as class, race and sexuality. Connell uses these
concepts to illustrate how the diversity of masculinities is marked by
hierarchy and exclusion.
These ideas of masculinity, however, are also part of a larger
conversation, and cannot be fully understood independently of it. They
draw much of their meaning from their opposition to traditional models
of femininity, which form the other "half" of the
conversation. Here, too, there is an enormous volume of literature on
women and femininities documenting the manner in which ideas of a good
or "normal" woman emphasise dependence and relationships
(particularly as the provider of care or nurture) and hence emotional
expressiveness, together with vulnerability (including a lack of control
over her body and emotions) (McMahon, 1999; Pease, 1997).
Gender, mediated by other social divisions, thus frames one's
development and life experiences, as a person tends to be placed in
gendered circumstances and opportunities, such as the different sports
options that are promoted to boys, as distinct from girls. Gender is
also taught and enforced (Krugman, 1995). Boys are quickly, repetitively
and sternly taught that "sissies" and "cry-babies"
are not manly and that such emotionally expressive behaviour is only
appropriate to women. Shame plays a central role in this process (Mejia,
2005).
Growing up in the midst of, and conforming to, these ideas about
gender, a person incorporates a sense of manliness or femininity, but
does so from common resources and in the midst of expectations and
demands of continued compliance.
The long-standing or "traditional" Western conversation
about manliness or masculinity has several consistent features. Foremost
amongst these is an emphasis upon independence and self-sufficiency: of
mastery over one's body and external objects, and of proving
manliness by domination and control, even when that involves a high risk
of harm. In this, the use of aggression and violence is seen as a virtue
and as a particularly truthful test of manhood. Traditional ideas of
masculinity also involve an allied commitment to stoicism, to mastering
pain and limited emotional expression. The emphasis upon independence
also limits close relationships, whether as spouse or partner, or
parent, but allows a preference for the company or camaraderie of other
men (Levant, 1996; Mejia, 2005).
Given the expectations of traditional masculinity, trauma as a loss
of control over oneself can be seen as a failure in masculinity, a
failure to conform to one's self-conception and one's
expectations and assumptions about one's relationship with the
world. In particular, it is concerned with a man's response to
danger and violence (Karner, 1994; Mejia, 2005). For a man traumatized
by violence, there is a form of internal disintegration or rupture as a
central dimension of his identity is no longer attainable. Moreover,
what was a resource is no longer available. Not having acted as a man is
expected to, his ability to participate in that conversation about
manliness is compromised and uncertain--leaving a gap or emptiness in
his sense of self.
The contrast of traditional ideas of masculinity and femininity is
particularly relevant to a discussion of trauma as that experience has
long been treated as a feminine experience. A man experiencing trauma is
then, from the perspective of this conversation, seen to be exhibiting
feminine traits--as not being himself. More importantly, he becomes
subject to a conversation of which he should not be the object nor a
participant--a conversation about feminine behaviour. He becomes an
object of--and experiences--shame.
Trauma is then particularly social, as the man's identity is
formed and practiced with others who share the same expectations and the
same language. The man can no longer be himself, can no longer "be
a man" and can no longer hold himself out as complying with the
accepted expectations of manhood (Karner, 1994; Mejia, 2005). For a
veteran, this difficulty is further exacerbated by the manner in which
military training emphasises and exaggerates those expectations: unable
to fulfil the expectations of him as a man, the veteran is also unable
to fulfil those of a soldier, sailor or airman.
THE EXPERIENCE OF MILITARY TRAINING
Morgan (1994, p. 169) characterises military institutions as
"highly and strongly bounded:"
the very activities associated with the military life, ultimately
to do with the taking of life and the exposure to extreme physical
danger, serve to establish an almost unbridgeable gulf between the
world of the soldier and the world of the civilian.... No civilian,
it is argued repeatedly can ever really know what it is like.
The purpose of military training is to traverse that gulf, and, in
so doing, to ground a commitment to follow orders and continue to work
within one's unit in circumstances where, ordinarily, in face of
extreme risk, flight would be the logical alternative. It is to create
and maintain a "deep rooted and fierce pride in regiment, squadron
or ship" (Higate, 2000, p. 339)--a "group obligation of
service and sacrifice" (Weselley, 2006, pp. 283-284). It is to
promote the willing and systematic subordination of one's own
individual desires and interests to those of one's unit and,
ultimately, country.
In the same way that particular contexts emphasise some of the
conversations in which a person participates, military training, culture
and practices are said to exaggerate certain masculine features (Brooks,
1990; Brooks, 1991; Morgan, 1994). They change the balance of identity
and "make a man" (Higate, 2001, p. 452). This is often
described as a "stripping away process" (Karner, 1994, p.
100). That is, the stripping away of aspects of other relationships
comprising identity and intensifying the influence of ideas of
masculinity. Key features of traditional ideas of masculinity are
promoted, tested and celebrated, including the domination of one's
body and the external world, stoicism, a neglect of physical health,
limited emotional expression, and a preference for the company of men
(Brooks, 1990; Brooks, 1991; Higate, 2000). Mejia (2005, p. 34)
characterises the "primary function ... of the ideology of
masculinity [as having] ... been to confront particular aspects of human
biology and suppress them--to train individuals to disregard their
biological signals to run in fear or to cry in grief or pain."
Military training and culture adopts and enhances that conditioning in
order to prepare men for combat.
This exaggeration and continuity of traditional masculinities may
even be true of the military's efforts to prevent deployment
trauma. Wessely (2000, pp. 282-283) asserts that the orthodoxy
established within the military following the Second World War continues
to prevail--that men "fight for ... their buddies." This
suggests that the preference for the company of other men, a key
characteristic of traditional masculinities, is being promoted in
military training (Wessely, 2006).
The masculine emphasis upon control is also reflected in the
proposition "that breakdown could be avoided by better selection,
training, leadership and morale" in the military (Wessely, 2006, p.
273). Moreover, like any social identity, military identity is always an
achievement, something dependent upon conformity to others'
expectations and their acknowledgement. The centrality of performance
testing in the military, and the need to "measure up,"
heightens this dependence. It also heightens the vulnerability to and
influence of shame (Barrett, 1996, p. 141).
RESPONSES TO TRAUMA: THE LANGUAGE OF PTSD
The formal recognition of PTSD in the DSM provided a new and
helpful language for veterans and it recognised their legitimate claim
for assistance. The psychiatric/psychological category of post-traumatic
stress disorder provided a language that enabled the veterans to speak
of trauma (Karner, 1994), even while they found it unmanly to do SO.
Karner, in her unpublished 1994 doctoral thesis, Masculinity,
trauma and identity: Life narratives of Vietnam veterans with post
traumatic stress disorder, explored the influence of ideas of
masculinity or manliness on the experience of, and recovery from, combat
trauma. Through a series of interviews with Vietnam veterans being
treated for PTSD in a US Veterans Administration inpatient program, she
sought to find which "social resources" the men used to make
sense of their Vietnam experience. She explored these men's
experiences of childhood and adulthood before the Vietnam War, their
experience of service in Vietnam, and their experience of readjustment
on returning home (Karner, 1994).
Karner found that this language was particularly attractive to men
as it did not directly challenge traditional masculinities. PTSD
presents a trauma that is exceptional and overwhelming; a trauma that
one could not expect anyone to stoically absorb (Karner, 1994). It
places the fault outside the will or outside of the person's
capacity to dominate. Moreover, by stressing the uniqueness of the
combat experience and PTSD's relationship to it, this language gave
deployment trauma a "masculine aura" (Karner, 1994, p. 237). A
veteran could characterise his entry into therapy "because he had
become hypermasculine and not, as often attributed to women, because he
was mentally weak" (Karner, 1994, p. 216). A veteran could engage
in, for example, crying, ordinarily an "emasculating
activity," by beginning his narrative in the "masculine arena
... of war" (Karner, 1994, p. 216).
By treating deployment trauma in terms of health, the language of
PTSD provided the grounds upon which many men could seek and receive
help in a sympathetic and less shameful manner. It positioned the
traumatic event as so exceptional and overwhelming that no one could
expect to withstand it. However, this discourse may have also limited
what could be spoken about. One of the criticisms made of the language
of PTSD (and other mental health terms) is that it denied women the
capacity to speak consistently with their own experience (Burstow, 2003;
Humphreys, 2004). Perhaps reflecting this, Karner found that the
language of PTSD was not consistently applied by the veterans and
remained subordinate to their "master" gendered identity
(Karner, 1994, pp. 241-243). Karner (1994, p. 267) concluded that the
language of PTSD was not completely accepted "as few of the
veterans were able to accept so simplistic a view of themselves; indeed
... the veterans pondered their different selves and agonised over which
was their real identity. This ... appeared to be at the crux of their
emotional distress."
The language of PTSD may then be an incomplete response. It aptly
recognises the limitations on any human being's capacity to simply
"absorb" trauma, like any other externally inflicted injury,.
To a lesser degree, it also recognises the residual resilience or
potential to recover from that trauma. Within those limits, it provides
a necessary support. However, as Karner (1994) and Burstow (2003)
report, it still appears to leave men with a sense of failure and a lack
of confidence in their ability to proceed to control their lives. Whilst
Karner does not expressly make the point, the failure of the language
may lie in its focus on an experience that might aptly be described as
having been "unmanned," as having been unable to perform as a
hegemonic man is expected. It leaves the veteran in a paradoxical state.
It affirms, as Karner pointed out, the veteran's unique identity as
having engaged in the profoundly "manly" endeavour of combat,
as having engaged in the "ultimate test" of manhood, which few
men face. However, it also implicitly denies the merit of that
experience as it is founded on a demonstrated lack of those very
qualities that, in traditional terms, define a man.
The language category of PTSD, with its emphasis upon "intense
fear, helplessness or horror" (Burstow, 2003, p. 1296) and a
consequential inability to master oneself and one's circumstances,
may then leave many men ashamed and unable to speak as men. In the
absence of a new sense of self, in particular a new language of
masculinity, it may leave the male veteran without a vocabulary for
successful action or agency. It may leave the veteran with a language he
can no longer call his own. By not conforming to masculine ideals, the
language of PTSD assumes a pathology that undermines the intended return
to autonomy; it excludes the veteran's language of agency (this was
one of the critiques made by feminists, such as Burstow and Humphreys).
Defining trauma as a disorder and as a health condition situates the
"cure" in the abnormal, obscuring its roots in the traditional
ideas of masculinity. In this regard, the problems originally identified
by feminists with regard to the experience of women appear equally
relevant for men.
The concepts underlying PTSD fail to recognise that the old self
relied upon assumptions that have been profoundly disrupted through
trauma. This is precisely the point on which the feminist claims for a
more gender-sensitive approach turn. The concepts underlying PTSD fail
to recognise that the "excuse" they provide to men may still
impress upon them that they are not able to fully comply with the
expectations and ideals of hegemonic masculinity and traditional
manhood. It does not appear to recognise the depth to which this
failure, even if excusable, vitiates their sense of self and of ability.
In that event, it places the veterans in new territory without any road
map. Without a new idea of manliness, it would leave a veteran with no
clear sense of how to be and speak as a man.
FEMININITY AND TRAUMA
Whilst men's experience of trauma has largely been viewed
through a mental health lens, approaches to women's experience of
trauma have been broadened in the last few decades. In particular, the
links between femininity and trauma have been subject to extensive
consideration. The literature demonstrates the influence of the social
construction of gender on both the experience of trauma and effective
responses to it. In just the same way that men need a new language of
masculinity to respond to trauma, the development of new understandings
of femininity and of action in the world were central features of
responses to women traumatized by rape, abuse and domestic violence.
Given that femininity, in its various forms, is socially constructed and
acquired and enacted, the literature concerning women and trauma
explores gender-sensitive approaches to trauma that may well be relevant
to men's experience of, and response to, trauma.
Harvey (1996), one of the leading contributors to these approaches,
suggested that human psychology is best understood in the ecological
context of the traumatized person's community and in light of that
community's values, behaviours, skills and understandings. Three
sets of inter-related factors are taken into account under this model:
the person or persons involved in the trauma, the event or events
experienced, and the larger environment (Harvey, 1996). The experience
and impact of trauma and its longevity are profoundly shaped by the
interaction of those factors.
The ongoing experience of trauma also reflects what Harvey called
the "ecological fit," by which she meant the "quality and
helpfulness" of the relationship between the individual, her
broader environment and the therapeutic intervention (Harvey, 1996, p.
7). Harvey illustrated the key influence of gender-related expectations
on "ecological fit" through two hypothetical examples, both of
which were modelled on actual responses to the experience of rape. One
involved a woman who firmly believed in gender equality and was
supported by others with like beliefs; the other a woman who broadly
conformed to traditional ideas of femininity and lived in a community
that upheld that model. The latter woman experienced trauma of greater
severity and longevity given the unmitigated impact of shame and guilt,
amongst other influences (Harvey, 1996). In both instances the gendered
expectations around men's and women's conduct and the
different responses to the rape affected the woman's own
interpretation of the event and ability to seek assistance.
The potential relevance of Harvey's (1996) and Herman's
(1998) response to trauma for men is suggested by the central
significance of responses to violence for both men and women. Both
traditional ideas of masculinity and femininity involve expectations of
appropriate conduct in relation to the threat or experience of violence
and form key parts of the "environment." Men are expected to
be competent in violence and able to stoically and rationally respond to
it. Indeed, masculine standards place a high value on risk-seeking
behaviour, deliberately facing risk and successfully dominating it
(Levant, 1996). They constitute rites of passage to manhood. Whilst
evading or failing to dominate it are often treated as failures of
manhood. Women, however, are not expected to have such competency but,
rather, to react emotionally to it or indeed, to over-react and become
hysterical. Moreover, there are further expectations that a woman would
deliberately and carefully avoid any risk of violence. It is from this
expectation that the long-standing suspicion that women are responsible
for their rape arises. The inappropriate risking of, and response to,
violence can attract the censure and exile of shame for both men and
women.
MASCULINITY AND TRAUMA
The influence of gender, understood as a social construction and
enactment, upon men's experience of trauma has received
surprisingly little attention in the conventional psychological and
psychiatric literature, notwithstanding that the feminist literature
expressly borrowed from the literature concerning men's experience
of trauma. Herman described "hysteria [as] the combat neurosis of
the sex wars' (cited in Larrabee et al. 2003, pp. 361-362).
However, the exchange of ideas appears to have been largely one-way.
Brooks (1990, 1991), one of the writers to have expressly considered the
role of traditional masculinity in men's experience of trauma, drew
attention to the neglect of masculinity in regards to the mental health
of veterans and of their responses to deployment trauma.
The influence of ideas about masculinities has, however, informed
other areas, particularly family therapy, and has begun to shape
mainstream psychology and psychiatry. In 1996 Levant, then Clinical
Associate Professor Psychology, Department of Psychiatry, Cambridge
Hospital, Harvard Medical School, argued that a new gendered psychology
of men was urgently needed to address the psychological issues facing
men (Levant, 1996).
Krugman (1995) approached this new psychology through "gender
role theory" which, like a social constructionist approach, does
not treat gender as given or natural, but as socially constructed and
imposed on a child by others, such as parents and teachers. Gender role
theory, as applied to men, is founded on three ideas. The first is that
a significant proportion of men fail to conform to the role. The second
is that both acquiring and maintaining the role is itself traumatic. The
third is that conforming with the role has negative or dysfunctional
effects for both the man and others.
In this approach, the reason why a significant proportion of men do
not conform with the traditional masculine role is that this role sets
demands that few could meet. Moreover, acquiring these masculine
characteristics was seen to involve repeated experiences of shame, as
boys and young men are taught which of the human spectrum of behaviours
are acceptable in a man. Parents, teachers and others shame boys and men
"in the course of teaching them 'manliness'"
(Krugman, 1995, p. 109). Shame then works to hide and suppress troubling
aspects of men's selves, including the experience of vulnerability
(Krugman, p. 95).
Conforming to these ideas of traditional masculinity has other
costs. It overemphasises autonomy over connection and relation. Its
restrictions on emotional expression and disclosure may prevent an
effective response to shame--and to trauma (Krugman, 1995). Conforming
to ideas of traditional masculinity may thus be seen as preventing a
constructive response to trauma.
The "new psychology of men" Levant described included the
work of Brooks (1990; 1991; 1998), who also drew on gender role theory.
Brooks examined the relationship between traditional masculinities and
deployment trauma for Vietnam veterans. Like Levant, Brooks emphasised
the restrictions that follow from conforming with traditional ideas of
manliness.
Karner (1994) appears to be the only researcher who has focussed on
the relationship between combat trauma and masculinity in terms of a
self/social-narrative. She found that traditional masculinity was the
"master identity by which [the veterans] prefigure[d] and
interpret[ed] their lives" (Karner, 1994, p. 21) and that combat
was seen as the rite of passage to manhood. The veterans'
experience of military training had heightened this sense of
masculinity. In particular, it had given them a sense of invincibility and indestructibility.
However, their experience of combat had not matched this identity.
The veterans experienced helplessness, confusion, horror, disorientation and fragility in the face of the uncertainty and extremity of combat,
rather than the anticipated calm, confident, successful implementation
of their training. They also had contradictory experiences of power and
pleasure in violence (Karner, 1994). Finally, they also confronted women
and children as enemies, contrary to their expectations of protecting
them from other men. It was the combination of these contradictions of
vulnerability and moral ambiguity that produced a rupture in the
veterans' sense of self. It was this experience of the failure to
conform to their understanding of masculinity--with its demands that
they master potentially overwhelming personal threats as well as protect
the weak and innocent (which women and children were expected to
be)--that constituted the veterans' trauma, rather than the
traumatic events themselves. Their experience of the symptoms of PTSD,
such as intrusions, also "appeared to be more about ruptured images
of self than the horror of the event" (Karner, 1994, p. 244). For
those veterans, their contradictory experiences of their selves, as
young men, as soldiers, and as veterans in civilian life, rendered their
claims on masculinity suspect. Their experience "had not given them
any resources to narrate a 'good man' view of themselves"
(Karner, 1994, p. 261).
A GENDER-SENSITIVE RESPONSE TO TRAUMA
The work of Brooks, Karner, Krugman and Levant mark the beginning
of an engagement with the influence of masculinity on the experience of
deployment trauma. They suggest that gender may well be a central issue.
That engagement, however, has not yet extended to a consideration of the
critical scholarship on men and masculinities outlined by Connell (2000)
and others earlier in this article. Here, again, some indication of the
manner in which those diversities and difficulties might shape a
response to deployment trauma is suggested by the detailed literature
considering responses to trauma by women.
Karner's (1994) research and reflection, which explicitly drew
on Herman's (1992) and Harvey's (1992) approach to trauma,
suggest that veterans'understandings of masculinity are central to
the experience of, and recovery from, combat trauma. Her work, whilst it
does not expressly consider the suitability of the Herman's and
Harvey's approach, indicates that it may be relevant.
More recently, Mejia (2005), in considering trauma experienced by
men through sexual abuse, expressly advocated reliance upon a variation
of the Herman/Harvey approach. Like Levant and Brooks, Mejia argued that
the acquisition or learning of traditional masculinities was itself a
traumatic experience. Referring to research that finds male infants are
more "emotionally expressive" than female infants, Mejia
(2005, 32) argued that shame was "pervasively" and
traumatically used to reduce that range of expression and promote
conformity with traditional masculinity. That is, learning to be a man
also involved a dramatic loss or disruption of a boy's identity and
the experience of being forced into a new formation.
The restricting effect of acquiring the traditional masculine
identity is such that Mejia sees it as contributing equally to the
experience of trauma and necessitating a two dimensional process:
"(a) confronting masculinity and its legacies and (b) confronting
trauma and its legacies" (Mejia, 2005, p. 31). Like Levant and
Brooks, Mejia prioritised a reconstruction of masculinity on the basis
that one of the key effects of traditional masculinity, with its
emphasis on stoicism, was the restriction of those emotional responses
that are central to effectively responding to trauma. Mejia's
consideration of men's trauma in the context of sexual abuse
enabled her to draw on and develop Herman and Harvey's work on
trauma as growth, outlining a response that integrates key directions in
the literature.
ESTABLISHING SAFETY" DISCOVERING A NEW LANGUAGE
Herman's (1998) first stage in responding to trauma concerns
the establishment of safety. This gradual extension of control includes
an early engagement with the emotional difficulties being experienced by
the person. This approach is responsive to the person's immediate
needs and recognises that those needs will almost always have to be
addressed before less obvious, longer established issues and influences
can be addressed. This does not involve deferring dealing with issues of
traditional masculinity. As Mejia's (2005) use of
"dimension" suggests, the very process of establishing safety
can also relevantly address masculinity issues. Moreover, another body
of related literature concerning "trauma growth" and
"trauma wisdom" also supports this approach.
Conventional approaches refer to re-establishing safety, of
rebuilding or returning to behaviour consistent with the pre- trauma
view of the world and of the self. However, seeking to re-establish
safety assumes that the old understanding of the world and one's
behaviour in it were correct, and that the traumatized person's
ongoing apprehension of risk and danger is wrong or exaggerated
(Burstow, 2003). The emerging trauma wisdom/growth literature suggests
the opposite: that one's previous understandings of the world were
misplaced and that this error was revealed by the trauma.
This may be particularly true for men who identify with traditional
understandings of masculinity (Mejia, 2005). A veteran's experience
of trauma, particularly through a life-threatening experience,
contradicts his military training and the emphasis on invulnerability.
It makes it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to return to the
"old" self and the previous idea of being a man, as his
commitment to domination and control and to emotional stoicism are not
as credible as before.
The "trauma wisdom" or "trauma growth"
literature builds on these insights and contradictions. It holds that
learning or growth can follow trauma: having obtained a more accurate
understanding of the world, the person can learn more appropriate ways
in which to live within it. Post-traumatic growth "is not the
client returning to his or her pre-trauma levels of functioning, but
about the client going beyond" them (Joseph, 2004, p. 108). This
may frequently involve "going beyond" previous ideas about
masculinity. Calhoun and Tedeschi (1999, p. 79) suggest a definition of
"subtle strength" and thereby a different masculinity:
"Subtle strength ... is the strength of endurance, acceptance,
expressiveness, and support-seeking--tendencies that may have previously
been viewed as vulnerability."
This capacity for growth is not exceptional. Research suggests that
this capacity is a common attribute and is learned, rather than
inherited (Mejia, 2005). Resilience, as the capacity to grow following
trauma, is a product of environment, and varies with different
individuals' ecologies. Its varied development in different people
may also help explain the variation in incidence and experience of
trauma (Walsb, 2003).
The trauma wisdom/growth literature not only treats trauma as
giving access to more accurate understandings of the world, but also
treats the reactions to the symptoms of stress positively. Those
symptoms are then not pathologies, but considered as informed, sometimes
excessive, responses to a new awareness of threat; that is, as
"coping skills" (Burstow, 2003, p. 1295) and hence as a
strength to work from.
This trauma growth/wisdom literature suggests how the strategies
proposed by Mejia (2005) Harvey (1996) and Herman (1998) may be seen to
converge. In pursuing Herman's first stage of establishing safety,
a core characteristic of traditional and military masculinities must be
simultaneously dealt with. In Mejia's terms, they are both
"dimensions" of a common process. The experience of intrusions
and other stress symptoms is not simply a reaction to stress per se but
also a direct contradiction of the traditional/military
masculinity's expectation of consistent, comprehensive domination
of one's body and emotions. To experience these intrusions is to be
forced to confront those biological and psychological mechanisms that
are part of every human being's inheritance which are part of the
human conditioning to minimise and avoid significant bodily threats.
That is, the very conditioning that traditional and military
masculinities seek to supplant. The experience of trauma is the
regaining of this human wisdom of confronting the illusions of
comprehensive mastery and of traditional masculinities.
Addressing the uncontrolled responses to trauma provides the
threshold to engage with issues of masculinity and with the importance
of other relationships. Drawing on the insights of the "trauma
wisdom" literature, the intervention would then be less a process
seeking control of the kind previously experienced and more one of
understanding and accepting the limits of self-control, whilst
acknowledging the functionality and qualified appropriateness of the
trauma response as a means to managing risk (Nicki, 2001).
Trauma wisdom provides a starting point as it deals with
Herman's first priority of safety. It deals with the veteran's
most pressing need and preoccupation--securing some relief from the
repetitive, unmanly "symptoms" typical of PTSD, which Karner
(241-3) described as "jumping at noises, feeling fear, and
inability to sleep." Establishing a sense of control and safety,
however, also begins a process of reconsidering ideas about masculinity.
In doing so, the veteran begins to travel a path to developing new ways
of describing and explaining a key aspect of his self. It reduces the
experience of non-compliance with masculine ideals, and by reducing that
experience of shame enables the veteran to speak of his experience of
trauma and begins a new selfnarrative.
RETELLING THE STORY: DEVELOPING A NEW LANGUAGE
The next stage in Herman's (1998) approach is
"remembrance and mourning." That is, retelling the story so as
to "emotionally process" and integrate the traumatic events
into an increasingly coherent narrative. Central to this stage is
revisiting ideas and expectations about how one should have behaved in
response to the trauma. Here both Mejia (2005) and Herman (1998)
emphasise that this stage extends beyond the traumatic event itself to
the life experiences that taught the person how to expect to behave or
how a "good" man (or woman) should have behaved in the
circumstances.
This aspect of the trauma literature has much in common with the
trauma growth/wisdom literature: it re-examines the assumptions by which
the person previously lived, rather than trying to have the veteran
re-conform to them. In examining how he came to understand what it means
to be a man, the veteran is positioned to see that understanding as a
learning experience and that other ways might have been open to him.
That examination can also put the prior learning experiences into
context, showing how they suited particular circumstances, but did not
provide for others. It opens the possibility that the failure
experienced in responding
to the traumatic event was a failure in the model of manhood, and not
in the man.
This stage, however, would not solely consider the veteran's
ideas of masculinity. It would unavoidably involve other aspects of the
veteran's identity, as a person's gender is not experienced in
isolation from other aspects of identity and not all those aspects are
affected by trauma. Accessing and considering these other aspects can
also provide the veteran with access to sources of pride and strength in
addition to his or her gender identity.
Revisiting his personal journey into manhood and other key aspects
of identity will engage the veteran in the development of a new language
of masculinity and of self. It will enable him to work towards a new
sense of entitlement to speak and a new vocabulary within which to speak
and to overcome the sense of shame. This revisiting of the
veteran's experience of masculinity, particularly as that involved
relationships with significant others and intersections with other
aspects of his identity, will also help identify those who can support
the veteran in the final of stage of reconnecting with others.
CONCLUSION
Karner's (1994) research indicates the central influence of
understandings of traditional masculinity upon veterans' experience
of, and recovery from, combat trauma. Levant (1996), Brooks (1990) and
Mejia (2005) emphasise the obstacles that traditional understandings of
masculinity place upon a man's ability to respond to trauma.
Mejia's work, drawing on that of Harvey (1996) and Herman (1998),
together with the "trauma wisdom" or "trauma growth"
literature, suggest that the strategies developed to support women in
responding to trauma provide a framework within which to develop a
better response for men. However, further research is necessary to
determine whether similar conclusions can be drawn in relation to
veterans suffering deployment trauma.
In addition, none of the above writers directly explored the
veterans' awareness of, and attitudes towards, different ways of
understanding masculinity, which is integral to the Harvey/Herman/Mejia
intervention. In part, this reflected a tendency to adopt the
comprehensively negative, or pathologizing, approach to the
"symptoms" experienced by the veterans. The
Harvey/Herman/Mejia intervention, whilst accepting the problematic
impact of trauma symptoms, approaches them positively, as "trauma
wisdom" and that may provide an opening to recovery. If
"soldiering" and manliness are as strongly connected as
suggested by the literature and other research, then the response to
trauma proposed by Harvey, Herman and Meji may well be an essential
strategy to assist men to deal with deployment trauma.
DOI: 10.3149/jms.2001.16
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JOHN FOX (1) AND BOB PEASE (2)
(1) Lecturer in Social Work, School of Social Sciences and
Psychology, Victoria University.
(2) Chair of Social Work, School of Health and Social Development,
Deakin University.
Correspondence concerning this article should be sent to John Fox,
School of Social Sciences and Psychology, Victoria University, Footscray
Park Campus, PO Box 14428, Melbourne 8001, Australia. Email:
john.fox@vu.edu.au