Cover story

What lies beneath the mask? It’s often impossible to tell

The eyes – or so the saying goes – are a window into the soul. Well, perhaps they are. But it clearly takes a better woman (or man) than me to look into someone’s eyes and gaze right into their soul. As far as I am concerned, I can barely even discern anyone’s expression or mood by merely looking at their eyes.

And these days, with mask-wearing having become compulsory, that is all that you can see of anyone: their eyes. I have to confess that I find this rather disconcerting. Without being able to see someone’s mouth – whether it is turned up cheerily or downcast glumly – it is hard to tell whether someone is happy or not. Never has the expression ‘smiling eyes’ seemed more inappropriate when the truth is that you really can’t tell by someone’s eyes alone if they are smiling or not.

It turns out that all the visual clues that we rely upon during our social interactions depend less on the eyes, and more on the rest of the face. Is your nose crinkling up in disgust? Are your lips tightening with exasperation? Or have they risen ever so slightly in a sneer? Is your jaw relaxed or clenched with anger? It is all these non-verbal clues that we pick up on as we negotiate our way through the world.

But now that everyone we meet – except for the people in our own household – is masked, how on earth can we tell what they are feeling? And, equally importantly, how can they tell whether we are smiling or scowling underneath our masks?

Short answer to both questions is: no, we can’t. And that makes every social interaction that much trickier.

But the adaptable beings that we are, we have learnt our lessons from months of mask wearing and are now cued up with non-facial clues as we make our way through the world. I noticed this first when I went grocery shopping in my neighbourhood market. As I stopped and stepped aside on the pavement when I saw a man approaching from the opposite direction, he came to a halt and indicated with a sweeping gesture that I should pass first. I smiled my thanks before I realized that he couldn’t see that. So, as I passed him, I said ‘Thanks’ with a small bow that would have done a Japanese person proud.

For me, though, masks present another problem. I am ever so slightly deaf and over the years have developed the ability to lip read, which fills in the gaps that my hearing leaves. But now, with everyone’s lips masked, there is no way to glean that additional information. And it doesn’t help that masks end up muffling people’s voices even more. So, conversations have become more difficult to conduct, especially with people who are soft-spoken to begin with. Imagine my relief, then, when on my visit to my doctor, I saw him wearing a transparent face shield rather than a mask. Suddenly, I could understand every word he was saying. And, for a few minutes, I could feel like my old self.

It was on that hospital visit, though, that I realized that there are three kinds of mask wearers. The first group, in which I include myself, are those that put on their masks and leave them in place for the entire duration of the time they are outside. Then, there are those who seem to think that it’s fine to pull them down ever so often, sometimes to talk to their companion, at other times to have a sip of water, and so on. And then, there are those who seem to think that infections only enter through the mouth, so they can leave their noses bare, no problem at all. I find myself sorely tempted to tell them off, but then I think I am probably better off maintaining social distancing from morons like these.

Maybe as mask-wearing becomes a part of our lives – until they find a vaccine that all of us can take – people will become a little more aware of how best to use masks. And at the very least, they will stop touching the outside of their masks every few minutes to adjust it. I get particularly concerned when I see TV reporters doing this, because they are in a situation where there is a clear and present danger of contracting Covid 19. “Stop doing that!” I find myself yelling at the TV, like a batty old lady who can’t tell that the people on the other side of the screen can’t hear her.

It’s not all bad news, though. Wearing a mask means that I no longer need to bother with lipstick – which is a relief because I don’t know when I can next replenish my stock. On the flip side, my use of eyeliner and mascara – which I hardly ever used – has gone up exponentially!

So, while the eyes may not be a window to the soul, they are certainly proving to be key to my appearance. And even if you can’t tell, I am smiling with them as well.

  

Just say no

For a man to hear a ‘no’, a woman has to actually say it

No means no. That cannot be said often enough. No means no. 

But if you mean ‘no’ then it follows that you also have to say ‘no’. If you want someone to hear your ‘no’, then you need to say it out aloud. Non-verbal cues do not cut it. Nor do verbal cues. Nor does less than ‘enthusiastic’ participation. 

That’s because all of the above relies on someone else to receive a message that you have not actually articulated. It requires your sexual partners to intuitively pick up on a discomfort that you have not voiced. It enjoins them to be mind readers (trigger alert, all you ‘woke’ millennials!) even when they may not know you well enough to be able to read your mind.

And that is putting a lot of responsibility for your safety and well-being on the shoulders of someone else. 

Yes, I know, this is where a lot of you will pause reading to shoot off tweets asking me to stop ‘victim blaming’. To tell me that I am putting the onus on women not to get raped or sexually assaulted or abused instead of putting the men who rape, assault or abuse them on notice.

But no, I am not blaming the victim. Mostly because I don’t see women as disenfranchised victims with no agency of their own. I don’t see them as passive participants who have no control over what happens to them. And any movement, feminist or otherwise, that seeks to turn women into hapless creatures who cannot stand up for themselves, who cannot speak for themselves, does not have my support. 

As you can probably tell by now, this column was triggered (there’s that word again!) by the Aziz Ansari case. (No, I’m not going into that whole controversy; I’m sure you’re fully up to speed by now.) So, what I am writing about today applies only to urban, educated, emancipated, sexually-active women with jobs and lives of their own – like the woman, dubbed ‘Grace’ to grant her anonymity, who sought Ansari out and went on a date from hell with him.

I am on the side of the generational divide that does not believe Ansari’s awful sex moves amounted to sexual assault or even sexual abuse. And I have difficulty understanding my millennial friends who insist that ‘Grace’ was coerced by Ansari. Her own account of the evening, in my reading, suggests otherwise.

But what is clear to me is that in this age of Tinder, when casual hook-ups with people you barely know are the rule rather than the exception, women need to be empowered to navigate this sexual minefield instead of being infantilized and told that they bear no responsibility for their own actions.

It goes without saying that consent is essential in every such encounter and that it is the responsibility of men to ensure that they secure it before initiating any kind of sexual contact. (And yes, ‘enthusiastic’ consent is the very best.) But I balk at the thought of casting women as helpless creatures who cannot even say ‘no’ when they mean it.

Sex, like much else in human life, is about communicating your desires, your needs, and yes, your reservations. But if we want men to listen then we must also empower women to speak up so that they can be heard. Women need to be active participants with a voice in the proceedings, not passive objects to whom things happen without their having any control over it.

I have lost count of the number of women who have told me over the past week that women don’t say no because they are afraid of the consequences. As in, they may meet with violence or even death if they say no. And yes, that is true in some cases. 

But here’s where those ‘verbal’ and ‘non-verbal cues’ come in handy. It’s not just incumbent on men to pick up on these cues. It’s imperative that women read them as well. If you feel you’re not being listened to during your date, being rushed into things at a pace you are not comfortable with, then maybe you should say ‘no’ sooner rather than later. Split the bill, call a cab and get the hell out of there.

Most adult women have a well-honed instinct for sniffing out the bad boys from the good. Trust those instincts. They will stand you in good stead. And if that voice in your head is telling you this is not going to end well, then end it right then. 

Of course there will be times when men you thought were honourable and ‘safe’ will surprise you. When a ‘friend’ you have known for years will suddenly turn into a monster. We’ve all been there. It’s truly awful and hard to negotiate, especially when your ‘no’ is heard but not acknowledged. But to conflate sexual assault or even sexual abuse with bad or awkward sex does a disservice to both men and women.

Yes, there are many men out there in the dating pool who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Who will push, push, push, until you’re well into sexual assault territory. And it is often difficult to see them coming until you’re right there in bed with them.

But there are plenty of good guys too, who are primed to look for your consent. Sadly, very few of them are actual mind readers. Which is why it’s imperative to remember that for a man to hear a ‘no’, a woman has to actually say it.