Discussion List for campus-based and allied personnel working to end gender-based violence on campus.

["Christopher Kilmartin" <>]

I wrote this parallel tale a little while ago to explore the gendered
assumptions behind the belief in regretful sex.  I've only read it
before one audience, who found it convincing, but I'm interested in if
you find the argument and the parallel compelling.  If you think it
might be helpful, feel free to use it.  (Warning: this is long-ish).

*Regretful Poker*: A Parallel Tale
Christopher Kilmartin

Barry is a typical suburban guy: married, father of two, a maintenance
worker for the county.  He likes to hunt, fish, and watch sports on
television.  His wife, Eva, is a nurse.  Even though they both make
decent salaries, the mortgage, their daughters* braces, and other
expenses sometimes make it difficult to make ends meet, and once in a
while, they find themselves carrying more credit card debt than is
comfortable.  They always make their payments but sometimes they have to
*borrow from Peter to pay Paul.*

Barry used to enjoy getting together with his buddies once a month for
a Friday night low-stakes poker game: dealer*s choice, no wild cards
allowed, three raise limit, maximum bet of one dollar.  If you had a
really bad night, you might lose $30; if you had a really good one, you
might win a little more than that.  It was really more of an excuse to
get together, tell some stories, and drink a few beers.

But after a few years, it became difficult to coordinate schedules,
with some of the men having to attend their children*s activities or
going away for the weekend.  At first they would miss a month or two and
then resurrect the game, but after a while, these Friday night meetings
became more and more seldom and eventually the game fell apart
completely.  Barry had not played poker in more than two years.

One Saturday afternoon, he drove his nine-year old daughter to her
soccer game.  Standing on the sideline, he began to chat with one of the
other dads, Frank, a local attorney.  At one point, the topic turned to
the renewed interest in poker, with Texas Hold-*em tournaments on
television and on line.  Barry mentioned to Drew that he used to be part
of a regular game and missed the fun of those once-a-month
get-togethers.  Drew replied that he has a regular game, in fact they
were meeting that night and only had four players coming.  There was
room for a fifth if Barry was interested.

A quick cell phone call to Eva confirmed that it wouldn*t disrupt any
of the family schedule for Barry to attend the game, and so he readily
accepted.  Drew gave him directions to the host*s house, they
exchanged cell phone numbers, and Barry began to look forward to the
evening.

After opening a beer and being introduced to the other players, Jamie,
Art, and Phil, they settled down in Art*s finished basement to start
the game.  Because he had a lot of experience at poker, Barry knew what
questions to ask before beginning.  What is the betting limit? -- $3, $5
on the last bet of each hand.  How many raises? -- 3, same as in
Barry*s old game.  Can the dealer call a wild card game? -- No,
that*s not true poker.  What*s the low hand in a high-low game? --
Ace, 2, 3, 4, 6.  What*s the ante? -- 50 cents?  Can you check and
raise? * no, you can only check and call.  Art spread the cards out
face down on the table and the players drew to see who would deal
first.

All the players seemed like nice guys, but they were cutthroat poker
players, betting the limit on the last bet when they had a sure thing,
not letting anyone see their cards if everyone folded, and throwing
around a lot of trash talk.  Nobody smiled.  This game had a
business-like atmosphere unlike the more friendly poker that Barry was
used to.  He found it a little intimidating but he thought of himself as
a competitive person, and so he would adjust to their style and
hopefully come home a winner.  And a couple more beers would help him
relax.

After a couple of hours, Art was winning big, Jamie was about even, and
Phil was doing pretty well.  The cards were not running well for Barry
or Frank that night.   And Barry had not really considered the
consequences of the higher betting limit.  By 9:00 he was down more than
$200, having only won two small pots at the beginning of the evening. 
By 10:00, his deficit had almost doubled, and the house rule was that
the game ends at 11:00 sharp.  Frank had lost a similar amount, but
Barry figured he probably makes three times more money, and he also knew
that Frank*s wife runs a successful business.  With only one child,
they probably had a lot of disposable income, and Frank, although he was
lamenting his bad luck, didn*t appear to be feeling the stress that
Barry felt.  Besides, Frank had mentioned that he had been the big
winner last month.

Barry began to worry about his credit card debt and what Eva would say
if he told her how much money he had lost.  He really needed to get
lucky during the end of the evening.  But he was all but out of cash and
Art had just suggested that they double the maximum bets for the last
hour of the game, saying that he was going to give Barry and Frank a
chance to get even.  The other players agreed * *It*s your house,
Art.  Host gets to make the rules.*  Barry realized that this meant he
could recover quicker by just winning a couple of hands, and so he did
what he had never even considered doing during a poker game: he wrote a
check.

The next hand was a game of Texas Hold-*em.  Barry*s two pair, aces
and queens, were beat by Phil*s three deuces, and the double stakes
resulted in Barry*s loss of another $60 on that hand alone.  And the
rest of the evening proceeded in similar fashion, with Barry frequently
having the second-best hand, which meant that he stayed in the betting
right to the end when others folded their hands and saved their money. 
He won the last pot of the night for $40, but all told he ended the
evening down more than $1000, an amount he could ill afford to lose.  He
begged for the game to continue but the house rules didn*t allow it.

Barry returned home dejected and a little panicked.  Eva was already in
bed and woke up just long enough to give him a little kiss and go back
to sleep.  Barry was awake for hours wondering what to do.  Eva asked
him the next morning how he had done, but he was too embarrassed to tell
her and said only that he*d lost a little.  He didn*t fill her in on
the details of the higher stakes and cutthroat style of the game.

Barry had engaged in what we might call *regretful gambling,* and
he was ashamed and embarrassed.  Moreover, Eva would find out about the
losses as soon as the bank statement to their joint checking account
arrived, and Barry knew that she would absolutely hit the roof.  And he
was angry at these guys, lying in bed and thinking, *Those bastards. 
I would love to get them back for this,* but at the same time, he knew
that all of this was his own fault -- he didn*t suspect anyone of
cheating.  He should have left the game as soon as he lost what he could
afford to lose.

What would you do in this situation?  Most people would sheepishly
admit their mistake, apologize to Eva, pick up some overtime hours, and
promise never again to gamble more money that they could afford to lose.
 A few might go back to the game the following month in an attempt to
recoup their losses.  

But, how many would walk into a police station and file a false report,
claiming that someone whom they had met that evening on a friendly basis
had robbed them?  How many would construct and rehearse a story so that
they could save face with their spouses and friends, and bring revenge
on someone for their own behavior?  How many people would they want to
tell about their serious error in judgment?  How many losers in a poker
game in which they lost control would sit through a trial and hope for a
conviction of someone who only did what the *victim* had agreed to? 
No, if Barry walked into a police station and said that he had been
robbed, it is overwhelmingly likely that he had been.  

And yet, when a woman reports that a man has raped her, she is often
met with skepticism by police, friends, and perhaps even her boyfriend
or husband.  After all, she had gone somewhere willingly with this man,
had a few drinks, maybe even agreed to kiss him.  She probably had
engaged in *regretful sex* and was filing the report to save face
with her boyfriend, get back at a man who had rejected her, repair her
moral standing in the eyes of family and friends.

None of the men in the poker game worried that the night*s big loser
would file a false report of robbery, and for good reason, because
almost nobody would.  So why would we believe that it is common for rape
victims to make false reports?  And so we need to ask ourselves this
question: Have I, or anyone I know, falsely accused someone of a serious
crime in order to save face or avoid the anger of my spouse, partner,
family, or friends?  If I did something that I was embarrassed or
ashamed about, would I tell strangers like the police about it?  Would I
even tell my best friend?  When people say that they have been robbed,
we believe them, and sexual assault complaints should be met with the
same response.
 
Parallels:

Anticipated a pleasurable encounter with someone he doesn*t know
well.
Committed to a lower level of the behavior (lower stakes; consensual
kissing) Asked to commit to a behavior that is more than anticipated
Was uncomfortable

Difference with acquaintance rape:

He did so willingly.  Wasn*t coerced, threatened, held down * had a
negative outcome to an anticipated positive experience.  

People don*t cry robbery after bad gambling any less often than they
cry rape after bad sex.


Christopher Kilmartin, Ph.D.
Professor of Psychology
University of Mary Washington
Fredericksburg, VA 22401
(540) 654-1562  FAX 540-654-1836
President-elect, APA Division 51
Society for the Psychological Study of
Men and Masculinity