First, there are areas where realms of experience are completely non-overlapping. For instance, I have no experience whatsoever in what it feels like to have a menstrual cycle and have no reason not to take a woman’s word for it. By contrast, I have extensive experience and knowledge of my male friends. On the basis of this experience and knowledge, I have a plausibility framework for their actions. If a woman comes to me with an accusation about one of them, I am unlikely just to trust her without asking several questions first. While a woman can experience interactions with my friends that I cannot, I am unlikely to allow her experience to override my experience without closer investigation. And this is not necessarily a bad thing: even though they need to be open to change and adjustment, it is healthy not to abandon our plausibility structures on the mere basis of another person’s say-so. Both of us have limited vantage points and experience: we need to triangulate between these to get a clearer sense of the character of the friend.
Second, this issue is exacerbated when women make claims about things that lie outside of their direct experience on the basis of that experience. For instance, in the post around which our first discussion here was built, Jen Wilkin wrote about the frustrating interactions that women can experience with male leaders in the Church. However, she did so by speaking about the way in which men perceive women. Clearly, Jen has no immediate experience of this, while I have had extensive experience of interacting with women as a man and am well acquainted with some of the difficulties that can exist on the other end of such interactions. On the basis of this experience (coupled with my close acquaintance with many pastors), I question certain of her suggestions about the perceptions that drive men’s treatment of women. I do this without needing to question her account of how it feels to be on the receiving end of such treatment, or the need of addressing it. The difference between trusting someone’s account of the facts of an interaction and trusting their interpretation of that interaction also can be immensely important here.
Third, the trust that Young’s article focuses upon is trust of women’s feelings. This goes deeper than trust of women’s reporting of events. It is rather about trusting a particular manner of experiencing, perceiving, processing, and responding to the world. It is less about the content of experience than it is about the form. Differences between the sexes can often play out on this most fundamental of levels, as our differing biochemistry and differing bodies give rise to differing tendencies in manners of being in the world (this radio show is an interesting series of accounts of how testosterone can play into this most basic character of experience), differences that can be exacerbated by gendered modes of socialization. While there is always much more that men and women share in common than what they do not, we are often insufficiently cognizant of the significance of such differences. The closest analogy here might be that of trusting neuroatypical persons’ accounts of their experience. While men and women can relate to much about the manners of experience of persons of the other sex (and, no, there isn’t one single sexed manner of experience for men and women, but there are, I believe, sexually-weighted tendencies), there will often be dimensions that will appear rather unusual to us, making it more likely that we will reserve judgment or find it difficult to trust perceptions on certain matters. This isn’t easily resolved, not least because not all manners of experiencing, perceiving, processing, and responding to the world are equally reliable in each and every context.
Finally, a note in response to Graham’s post, on the exegesis of Genesis 1-3 and 1 Timothy 2. I don’t believe Paul is misreading Genesis, although the proper application of it is a question for another day. A key to the Eden story is that, although both Adam and Eve came under it, only Adam directly received the commandment concerning the tree, before Eve was created (2:16-17). Note that when God refers to the commandment later, he addresses Adam alone and uses the singular ‘you’ throughout (3:11, 17). Eve could be deceived because the serpent played off information that the text suggests she received directly from God (3:1-2; cf. 1:29) against information that she only had second-hand from God through Adam (as with Hebrew reported speech more generally, Eve’s reporting of the commandment in 3:3, where the plural ‘you’ is used, should not just be presumed to be a de dicto rendering of God’s words: here it seems rather to be a declaration of God’s commandment for them revealed through the words spoken to Adam alone). Adam appears to have been close by while Eve was tempted (3:6), without intervening, increasing her confusion and the likelihood of her deception. Adam alone committed the trespass because he alone knowingly went against what God had said.
It should be noted that the deception of Eve by the serpent—and Adam!—introduces a theme of poetic justice that runs throughout the biblical text, where tyrants and unfaithful men are deceived by faithful women. Sarai deceives Pharaoh (Genesis 12:10-20) and Abimelech (Genesis 20). Rebekah deceives Abimelech (Genesis 26:1-11) and Isaac, who was about to go against God’s will and bless the wrong son (Genesis 27:1-29). Rachel deceives Laban (Genesis 31:19-35). The Hebrew midwives deceive Pharaoh (Exodus 1:15-22) and Moses’ mother, sister, and Pharaoh’s daughter all play a part in deceiving Pharaoh to secure Moses’ safety (Exodus 2:1-10). Rahab deceives the men of Jericho (Joshua 2). Jael deceives Sisera (Judges 4:17-22). Michal deceives Saul (1 Samuel 19:11-17). Esther deceives Haman (Esther 5-8).