Is this new safety campaign a masterclass in ‘Gardasplaining’?

What are the things you remember to take with you before a night out? A wallet, phone and keys (if you’re a man)? Lipstick and a hat (if you’re a woman)?

Assuming that women need lippy over a wallet is just one misstep in the Garda Siochana’s utterly tone-deaf ad campaign.

It’s likely you’re familiar with the “Mind Yourself, Mind Your Stuff” campaign by now. (For men: “Wallet. Phone. Keys. The Only Thing You Don’t Have Is A Plan” or for women: “Lippy. Phone. Hat. The Only Thing You Don’t Have Is A Plan”.)

All told, it’s a masterclass in “Gardasplaining”: posters telling men and women that, along with not forgetting your “essentials”, you also mustn’t forget a bit of cop on.

According to An Garda Siochana’s statistics, one in four mobile phones were stolen between midnight and 4am. Late-night intoxication is a factor in 12 per cent of thefts from person, 19 per cent of robberies and 18 per cent of assaults. This latter statistic doesn’t specify whether they mean intoxication on the part of the victim or perpetrator, but read between the lines anyway. Have fun, but not too much fun. Stay sober, stay vigilant … or else.

Perhaps its heart is in the right place, but there are so many ways in which the Garda’s latest ad campaign is a gargantuan waste of time and resources.

Telling someone not to forget the threat of potential criminal activity is a bit like reminding a mum to not forget her kids on the school run. You’d be hard pressed to find a woman who doesn’t have a keen awareness of personal safety, for a start. For as long as I can remember, I’ve walked Dublin’s streets with keys positioned in my knuckles. I hear, and register, footsteps behind me. We don’t assume that every person walking behind us will assault us. We don’t think every man in our field of vision is a potential perpetrator. But still, we’re on high alert, constantly. Sometimes it works. Mostly, it doesn’t.

Some years ago, after a successful weekend of revelry at the Electric Picnic I decided – wellies and muddy tea dress still on – to pop to the local Tesco. On the way home, I encountered a man standing idle at a dark stairwell, and could feel the weight of his stare behind me, then his furtive footsteps edging closer. Instinct told me to hold back outside a pub, to let him pass, but no matter. He groped me from behind anyway, managing to grab me where Donald Trump would be proud, in a flash.

Before I knew it, I was in the back of a Garda car, whizzing through the area, the guards stopping every lone man with a hoodie, me crying as my frozen pizza melted to mush. The guards on patrol were brilliant, and handled a woman crying in the backseat about pizza with sensitivity. Weeks later, I went to the Garda station to report the incident. They were courteous, efficient and thorough, but a few questions hit a nerve.

“How short exactly was the dress? What else were you wearing?”

“Had you been drinking that day?”

“What do you mean exactly by ‘between the legs’?” (This enquiry went on for a while until I offered a demonstration).

Incidentally, a man in my area was arrested and charged some time later for a spate of assaults. His line of defence was that he “only grabbed her arse”. According to one court report, he said one of the women was “good-looking” and “seemed to catch my eye” so he went for her.

We all know that when it comes to assault, and especially when it comes to sexual assault, and even more especially when it comes to woman and sexual assault, that victim blaming is rife. We’re read enough court reports to conclude that for people, the victim of a crime is somehow not without blame herself. The process, in the main, is not best described as “victim-friendly”.

Certainly, I felt less confident about my chances of justice before I went into the Garda station that afternoon. It’s going to take some time, as a culture, to move away from the idea that people can help themselves, and lessen their chances of being a crime victim.

And for that matter, no man I know blithely assumes that he’s going to be impervious to crime, either (it’s worth pointing out that 2016 statistics show that 83 per cent of offenders in assault cases are male, and 70 per cent of assaults are male-on-male). Men are every bit, perhaps even more, vulnerable to crime.

I get it, in a way. Realistically, what Garda awareness campaign will ever appeal to the perpetrators’ good nature? When will we ever see “Stop Robbing!” or “Maybe Don’t Rape Someone”?

There are a myriad of reasons – psychological, financial, social – why people commit crimes. Asking them to stop and reconsider is probably similar to trying to get a glass of water from Niagara Falls. For a police force that wants to look involved and concerned, it’s easier to remind law-abiding citizens to be vigilant than tell a perpetrator to stop attacking, assaulting or raping.

But there’s something in the tone of this ad that really sticks in my craw. We know that victim blaming happens. Reminding us of that reality every day is ridiculous, and it completely underestimates how people, women especially, operate.

This latest bout of “Gardasplaining” feels condescending and utterly pointless. Next time, perhaps the money and considerable resources spent on trendy-looking ads like this could be spent on the down and dirty business of catching perpetrators.