Behind closed doors

During her interview on the Dutch television show Zomergasten, human rights lawyer Liesbeth Zegveld related a telling anecdote about her experience of sexual harassment. At the law firm where she worked, an Important Man could not keep his hands to himself, of which she was the victim. In the spur of the moment, she told a colleague about it. The colleague took action and the Important Man was made to leave.

So far so good. But as everything was handled behind closed doors, Zegveld was under the impression that she was the only one he had harassed. Only years later, after someone nominated the Important Man for an award, did it turn out (in Dutch)  that there were – of course – others.

This is a textbook case of one of the mechanisms that researcher Sara Ahmed describes in her book Complaint!: because complaints about transgressive behaviour are dealt with confidentially and behind closed doors, other people are often unaware that a complaint has been filed at all. The scale of the problem remains invisible to them. In fact, it can seem that there isn’t a problem at all.

By handling complaints confidentially, it can seem that there isn’t a problem at all

This gets worse when ‘solving’ a conflict includes the imposition of a non-disclosure agreement. And the Inspectorate of Education’s report on TU Delft pointed out that this happens here surprisingly often. I think it would be a good idea if the university would publish a yearly overview of the number of times that a non-disclosure agreement was imposed after a complaint or conflict. Retroactively. Listed by faculty. Then at least it would be clear how many situations there are every year that cannot bear the light of day. And it would be a good incentive to lower the number of incidents being swept under the carpet.

Based on interviews and her own experience, Ahmed’s book presents an extensive discussion of what happens at universities after complaints are filed about unacceptable behaviour: how the complaint and the complainant are often viewed as the problem, how people in positions of power who cause or are responsible for the lack of social safety claim that complaints and criticism are a danger to their safety (also a familiar phenomenon at TU Delft), how complainants often have to manage the progress of their complaints procedure themselves, how this repeatedly brings up trauma and takes a lot of energy, etcetera. Ahmed also shows why people often choose not to file a complaint despite having experienced something unacceptable.

Five stars. Complaint! gives a clear analysis of the concrete mechanisms that stand in the way of stopping transgressive behaviour and allow it to go unpunished. Ahmed also painstakingly lists all those little moments and expressions that jointly create a culture in which it is hard, or even impossible, to say something about it. And she shows how supervisors and colleagues, with the best of intentions, can be unwitting accomplices.

It is precisely the type of concrete analysis that is missing in everything that has so far been issued by TU Delft’s management in response to the Inspectorate’s findings.