During my teenage years, most girls grew their hair long, but nearly all the adult women had perms (permanent waves) and short hair. I do recall one woman in our church who had long hair swept up in a bun, and another who had what was then called an Eton Crop (a short bob), but most women, everywhere you went, had short hair in big loose curls — which went a bit flat and frizzy over time unless you carefully put it up in rollers overnight, as my mother did.
Church for us was a very social event. People were keenly aware of one another — what a person was would be noticed in every respect, their demeanour seen and assessed in detail.
Our congregation included a woman who I'll call Margaret Reilly, a pleasant, friendly person with a round, soft face and glasses. She maintained her hairstyle very successfully in the loose curls everyone was aiming for.
Then one Sunday morning she came to Parish Communion having had a haircut. Evidently she'd decided to try something new. The perm had gone. Now she had completely straight hair in a short bob, that definitely bucked the trend and looked startlingly severe by comparison with her usual style.
On our return home, as lunch preparation was underway, my mother said, "Do you think Margaret Reilly was doing penance for something?"
To which my father responded, "Well, it must have been something very bad."
That made us laugh. But a crucial element was that Margaret Reilly wasn't there. Yes, the joke was at her expense, but it was only within our own home, in the private conversation of our family. Neither of my parents would ever have passed comment on her appearance to other members of the church congregation, or in any other context beyond our family home. Certainly not to the woman herself. To have done any of these things would have been considered tasteless and discourteous.
Social media has exploded these social boundaries. Because my husband is a borough councillor, I occasionally (but carefully) read the comments on posts by or about the council, and I am every time shocked and disappointed by the ignorance, negativity and sour discourtesy there blatantly — even eagerly — displayed.
A confusion seems to have arisen about what is and is not private — or public. On one occasion a few years ago on a Facebook page for a Christian writers' group, I remonstrated with someone for posting something extremely rude and churlish about a Christian leader, saying I thought it better not to express such an opinion in public. As you might imagine, I got a very rude reply, to the effect that this (context) wasn't public, it was a private group. Yes, but a private group with 5000 members.
There's a political voice I may have mentioned before, Carl Benjamin, whose videos on YouTube I used to enjoy until I became weary of his relentless discourtesy and contempt toward women.
Today I noticed him online posting this:
Julie Bindel is a journalist whose work focuses on human rights abuses toward women and girls, campaigning against male violence. She has written two books on this topic. I haven't read her work but she is described online as a radical feminist. She has contributed pieces and been interviewed about the complexities arising from integrating people transitioning from male to female into shared facilities, and also about the rape gangs in English cities (I have read that she was one of the first to draw attention to these crimes).
Note Carl's comment at the top, as well as the image he is sharing.
I wondered how his followers might be responding.
Many were joking that they had taken the image to be of a man.
Here's a sample of some of the others:
As a heterosexual white man I can safely say no loss.
Clearly been given the blank all her life, and she's now double bitter lol
On behalf of all men, everywhere 'phew'!
The " one" who after 10 beers you still say no thanks to 
Because non of them are interested in her?
Und so weite.
There were, because Carl Benjamin is an intelligent person and has some serious-minded followers, other comments not stooping to these depths, either making jokes that weren't about sex or appearances, or added something actually thoughtful:
In the last few years she seemed to have moved over to the middle ground, I was actually interested in her opinions , shock horror !! It seemed the liberal line had moved too far and she saw it.
Misandry is on trend at the moment..
Finally, proper journalism.
This article is almost 20 years old. It would be interesting to see if her perspective has changed.
But what intrigued me was this blurring of public and private.
The original post was meant to be funny — and it was — but it was the same kind of funny as my parents' conversation about Margaret Reilly's hair; something you would say only at home. And why would you keep it private, say it only at home? Because to say such a thing publicly, encouraging ridicule, would mainly serve to put your own indiscretion and lack of refinement on display. It would reveal the deficiencies of your own upbringing; it would make your vulgarity very obvious. And it would be cruel.
Sometimes it's not the content of what you say, but the context of how and to whom you say it that makes all the difference.
English society is very, very classist. It is immediately clear to some English people what kind of upbringing and education a person has received who would put into the public sphere, for everyone to read, such implied mockery of an older woman, a dangled invitation to denigrate her as no longer sexually attractive.
The headline itself, of course, was not a quotation. It may or may not have fairly represented Julie Bindel's views. But if she does indeed hate men, that is yet another instance of a private opinion best kept that way. I imagine it is more likely a Guardian editor's summarised impression. I do think, incidentally, that it wouldn't be hard to gather sufficient evident to write a similar column called "Carl Benjamin hates women", and mount a similarly unprepossessing photograph of him at the top. I wonder if it would garner comments of similar tone? I think maybe not.
To digress a little, I remember when it became known in a congregation I was pastoring that I would be marrying my present husband. This was just under two years after the death of my second husband. A man in the congregation asked me, "Where are you finding all these men?" It was meant as a joke, and I found it funny — but I also noticed that he evidently didn't think they were finding me.
Now, to get back to the central point about what it is appropriate to say in public, I'm not sure that the lack of discretion (in Carl's post) is a moral issue as such. I think it may be more about manners — more an issue about being a gentleman than about being a saint, if you see what I mean.
Personally, I can well see why such a headline alongside such a photo would catch a man's eye and make him laugh. I can see why he might show it to his wife, and she would find the juxtaposition funny too.
But I think less of the man who shares it publicly, and invites all comers to laugh with him. That's not the way of an English gentleman, is it?
By contrast, this last week, I have listened at some length to Connor Tomlinson, a friend of Carl Benjamin, but one whom I have never known to denigrate women. I spent a while yesterday listening to him here, talking about the hideous phenomenon of the rape gangs disfiguring English towns and cities (that Julie Bindel has striven to bring to our attention), his fury and disgust and distress at what has been done to children and young women very apparent. That, by contrast, is a worthy use of the public space.
Knowing what to say in public and what to keep in the confines of your own trusted circle is a form of discernment that could only improve social media.
