How do we protect our children without demonising men?

The first challenge involves a fundamental shift in our thinking. It requires us to acknowledge that we are all potentially capable of inflicting serious hurt. The convenient thing about the stranger model is that it externalises responsibility. It makes it easy for us to point the finger at the mad, bad and dangerous.

I don’t wish to downplay the real and serious threat that paedophiles pose. I do, however, object to the simplistic portrayal of child sexual abuse in the media. I would prefer to see the howls of moral indignation replaced by an accurate understanding of the complexities and subtleties of the issue.

Consider the recent paedophile ‘outings’ in the UK. Not only do we have the media trumpeting their disgust and identifying known paedophiles under the protection of "the public’s right to know", but we also have really dumb journalists who don’t know the difference between a paedophile and a paediatrician. It’s a hell of a lot easier to daub paint on doors than it is to take either individual or collective responsibility for doing nothing when the next-door neighbour’s child is sexually abused by his or her father, step-father, uncle or grandfather. Then, it’s a case of ‘not my business’ or ‘not my problem’. And we still haven’t come to terms with the fact that it happens in even the most respectable families.

Unfortunately, taking responsibility requires effort. For me, it means that I have to recognise the tensions inherent in holding two potentially conflicting values. How do I balance my belief in personal liberty and the right to privacy with the belief that in some instances, I have the responsibility to intrude into the personal lives of others? Where is the line drawn? Is that line static, or does it move? The answers for me are: "It changes all the time and I have to make the effort to evaluate every new instance."

The second challenge lies in the way we currently view men. As a card-carrying feminist (which allows me to say these things), I think that we women have to make up our minds. Do we really want men to be active, loving parents to their children? Is it OK for a man to do some things, but not others? I think that we are giving men mixed messages. The first is about being involved with children. The second is about getting close, but not too close.

Recent times have seen an explosion in the numbers of separated or divorced dads who intend to be a presence in their children’s lives. Some of those are also very uneasy men who fear the spectre of allegations of abuse. The threat may be real or imagined, but the result is the same. They keep their distance, just to be on the safe side. And is this what we worked so hard for? Why is it OK for a woman to groom her children, to brush hair and take the fluff out of belly buttons, but not OK for a man to do the same thing?

I think the problem stems from the myth that only men are capable of inflicting sexual harm. Our illusions were shattered in the 60s when we had to come to terms with the fact that some women hurt their children. They burned their children with cigarettes and hot irons. They hit them with belt buckles. And they still do.

How could a good woman hurt her children? Easy, and for a number of reasons that have to do with power, economics and more often, personal experience as a victim.

Maybe it’s time to shatter our illusions again. Women, just like men, have sexually abused children. Social researchers are cautiously examining the phenomenon, and, as Renee Koonin suggested back in 1995, child sexual abuse by women is the last taboo.

Yes, it’s a fact that far more men than women sexually abuse children. But do we have to demonise them all? Scapegoating and stereotyping are easy, and very convenient.

The harder path, if we have the will, isn’t paved with yellow bricks and it isn’t black and white either. That path is innumerable shades of grey.