Family Violence : Communication Processes [1 ed.] 9780791493830, 9780791493755

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Family Violence

SUNY

SERIES IN

COMMUNICATION STUDIES

Dudley D. Cahn, editor

FAMILY VIOLENCE Communication Processes

Edited by DUDLEY D. CAHN

SUNY P R E S S

Published by State University of New York Press, Albany © 2009 State University of New York All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. No part of this book may be stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher. For information, contact State University of New York Press, Albany, NY www.sunypress.edu Production by Marilyn P. Semerad Marketing by Michael Campochiaro Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Family violence : communication processes / edited by Dudley D. Cahn. p. cm. — (Suny series in communication studies) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-7914-9375-5 (hardcover : alk. paper) 1. Family violence— United States. 2. Communication in the family—United States. 3. Wife abuse— United States. 4. Child abuse—United States. 5. Dating violence—United States. I. Cahn, Dudley D. HQ809.3.U5F339 2009 362.82'92014—dc22 2008018958 10

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To Jessica and Daria Richards and Ethan and Kolby Karpinski

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Contents

List of Illustrations

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Preface

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Acknowledgments 1

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An Evolving Communication Perspective on Family Violence Dudley D. Cahn

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Part 1. Couples’ Violence 2

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Relational Control-Motivated Aggression: A Theoretical Framework for Identifying Various Types of Violent Couples Loreen N. Olson Making Sense of Abuse: Account Analyses of Male Batterers Teresa C. Sabourin Measuring Change in Attitudes Targeted by Batterer Intervention Programs Maria Elena Villar, Victoria Orrego-Dunleavy, and Joan Svaldi Farr Exploring the Communication of Men Revealing Abuse from Female Romantic Partners Jessica J. Eckstein

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CONTENTS

Seeing Family Violence Differently: Shifting Perspectives from Social Scientific to Rhetorical Suzanne M. Enck-Wanzer

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Part 2. Parent-Child Violence 7

A Communication Perspective on Physical Child Abuse Angela B. Swanson and Dudley D. Cahn

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Distinguishing Communication Behaviors of Mothers High and Low in Trait Verbal Aggression: A Qualitative Analysis of Mother-Child Playtime Interactions Felicia Roberts, Steven R. Wilson, Julie E. Delaney, and Jessica J. Rack

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Adolescent-to-Parent Abuse: Abused Parents’ Perceptions of the Meaning and Goals of Adolescents’ Verbal, Physical, and Emotional Abuse Nancy J. Brule

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10 Forgiving the Unforgivable? Processes of Forgiveness and Reconciliation after Episodes of Family Violence Ruth Anna Abigail

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List of Contributors

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Index

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Illustrations

Figures Figure 2.1

Preliminary Violent Couple Classification Scheme

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Figure 2.2

Violent Couple Typology

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Figure 6.1

Wheel of Power and Control

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Figure 10.1

Processes of Forgiveness and Reconciliation

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Figure 10.2

The Forgiveness-Reconciliation Loop

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Tables Table 1.1

Published Research Reports by Year

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Table 1.2

Published Essays by Year

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Table 1.3

Quantitative Research Reports (27)

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Table 1.4

Qualitative Research Reports (21)

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Table 1.5

Research Reports Publication Outlets

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Table 1.6

Essays Publication Outlets

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Table 3.1

Distribution of Strategies within Accounts by Participant

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Accounting Strategy Types Summary Table for Pretreatment

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Accounting Strategy Types Summary Table for Posttreatment

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Table 4.1

Subscale Descriptive Statistics

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Table 8.1

Descriptive Statistics for 8 Mother-Child Dyads

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Table 10.1

Forgiveness and Reconciliation Case Study

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Table 3.2 Table 3.3

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Preface

Americans live in one of the most affluent and educated countries in the world. With this privilege comes the expectation that inhabitants of such a culture will experience a desirable sense of well-being, comfort, and safety especially within the confines of their own homes; yet every 10 seconds a child is beaten, neglected, or molested at the hands of his or her own family members. Researchers have recognized that family or domestic violence in all its forms is an all too common problem in the United States. Because family violence is a multidisciplinary subject, researchers from sociology, psychology, communication, education, and other disciplines have helped further our understanding of the complexity of the subject. Of the many different approaches taken by all these different disciplines, the focus of this book is to examine communication processes that underlie family violence. Viewing family violence from a communication process perspective is useful because, as Leslie Baxter says, “interaction is the sine qua non of relationships; it is through communicative action that persons initiate, define, maintain, and terminate their social bonds” (1985, p. 245). Therefore, communication processes can reveal and explain a lot that goes on in violent families. About 13 years ago, Sally Lloyd and I published Family Violence from a Communication Perspective (1996). The purpose of the present book is to revisit the subject of the earlier one. My goal is to also cover couples, parent-child, and family relationships in general relying on both quantitative and qualitative research conducted by established, wellknown scholars in communication as well as newcomers to the discipline. I would like to take this opportunity to entice those interested in communication processes underlying family violence to read this volume.

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Acknowledgments

I begin by thanking Dr. Sally Lloyd, well-known scholar of family conflict and interpersonal violence, who first got me interested in the subject of family violence. Our discussions in the early 1990s were so stimulating that they resulted in our coediting my first book on family violence in 1996. I would also like to thank Dr. Angela Swanson for convincing me that it would be a good idea to explore the topic of “communication approaches to family violence: ten years later” to chart the developments that have taken place since I coedited the earlier book. In addition, I would like to thank the Minnesota Program Development, Inc., for granting permission to use Figure 6.1 in chapter 6 and the Journal of Family Communication for permission to use Figure 2.2 in chapter 2. Time being a scarce resource for those who contributed to this book, I would like to express my deepest thanks to the contributing authors for agreeing to work me into their overloaded schedules. Thanks to their efforts we know a lot more about the role communication plays in family violence. I do not want to forget to thank the partners and families who lent their support to those of us who were involved in this project.

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1 An Evolving Communication Perspective on Family Violence

DUDLEY D. CAHN

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or the past 20 years, researchers in the communication discipline have recognized that family or domestic violence in all its forms is an all too common problem in the United States. In this chapter’s review of the communication research on family violence, 1986 was the year that articles on family violence first appeared in communication journals (Harris, Gergen, & Lannamann, 1986; Hecht et al., 1986; Rancer, Baukus, & Amato, 1986).1 For almost a decade, Infante and his colleagues published a number of quantitative articles on married partners’ trait verbal aggression and lack of argumentation skills. Then, around 1995, a major turning point occurred as scholars began to publish qualitative studies of family abuse in communication journals (Sabourin & Stamp, 1995; Stamp & Sabourin, 1995). That year also ended a focus primarily on martial violence in the discipline and a broadening of interest in violence between other family members. Scholars in other disciplines studied the subject of family or domestic violence before researchers in the communication discipline, and they recognized, too, that family violence is a serious social problem. Ten years ago, Sally Lloyd and I pulled together scholars from psychology, sociology, family studies, and communication to provide a multidisciplinary view of communication approaches to the subject (Cahn & Lloyd, 1996). Back then, we also wanted to further the study of family violence from a communication perspective regardless of discipline of origin. We also wanted to help broaden the communication discipline’s repertoire that existed at that time of communication approaches to the study of family violence. 1

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Now over a decade later, many more researchers in communication departments have produced studies on family/domestic violence revealing a diversity of methods and useful findings. While family violence is a multidisciplinary subject, in this chapter I would like to focus solely on the communication discipline’s research, to compare the communication research since 1995 with the previous 10-year period, and to provide a comprehensive review of published work on family/domestic violence done by communication researchers over the past 20 years. To find these studies I relied primarily on Communication and Mass Media Complete, COMINDEX, and PsychInfo for articles and chapters in edited books published by communication scholars on the subject of family violence. I used key terms derived from the search engines ERIC and PsycInfo.2 As of January 31, 2007, my review of the published communication research studies and essays resulted in a total of 48 published quantitative and qualitative (QL) research reports and 17 general essays (i.e., position papers), which are listed in Tables 1.1 and 1.2.3 Because many more research reports and essays appeared after 1995 than before, I believe it is time to revisit the subject and compare the past decade of communication research with the previous one. My objective for this review was to examine trends in the communication scholarship over the past 20 years on family/domestic violence to see what changes have taken place with respect to the following research questions: 1. How do communication scholars define and measure family violence? 2. Which violent family member relationships have received the most attention by communication researchers? 3. What methodologies are used by communication scholars to obtain communication data on family violence? 4. What constitutes a “communication approach” to the study of family violence? 5. Which communication outlets publish the most research on family violence?

Review of the Communication Literature How Do Communication Scholars Define and Measure Family Violence? When communication researchers study family violence, they must identify and define the concept of ‘family violence’ to employ it as a cause or an effect in their research. With the exception of research on

3 TABLE 1.1 Published Research Reports by Year

Harris, L., Gergen, K. J., & Lannamann, J. W. (1986).—(married couple scenario)—CM Hecht, M. et al. (1986).—Parent-Child Violence—CE Rancer, A. S., Baukus, R A., & Amato, P. (1986).—Marital Violence—CRR Infante, D. A., Chandler, T., & Rudd, J. (1989).—Married Partner Violence— CM Infante, D. A., Sabourin, T. C., Rudd, J. E., & Shannon, E. A. (1990).— Married Partner—CQ Bayer, C. L., & Cegala, D. J. (1992).—Parent-Child Violence—WJC Cloven, D. H., & Roloff, M. E. (1993).—Romantic Partner (i.e., dating) Violence—CM Sabourin, T. C., Infante, D. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1993).—Marital Violence— HCR Beatty, M. J., Zelley, J. R., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1994).—Parent-Child (i.e., father-son)—CQ Infante, D. A., Myers, S. A., & Buerkel, R. A. (1994).—(aggressive family member scenario)—WJC Rudd, J. E., Burant, P. A., & Beatty, M. J. (1994).—Marital Violence—CRR Rudd, J. E., & Burant, P. A. (1995).—Marital Violence—CRR Sabourin, T. C. (1995).—Married/Cohab Violence—JACR Sabourin, T. C., & Stamp, G. H. (1995). QL: Marital Violence—CM Stamp, G. H., & Sabourin, T. C. (1995). QL: Married/Cohab Violence—JACR Beatty, M. J., Burant, P. A., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1996).—Parent-Child (i.e., father-son)—CQ Carey, C., & Mongeau, P. A. (1996).—Romantic Partner (i.e., dating) Violence—Chapter Hegde, R. S., (1996).—QL: Marital Violence—CS Petronio, S., et al. (1996).—QL: Parent-Child Violence (incest)—JACR Rogers, L. E., Casleton, A., & Lloyd, S. A. (1996).—Marital Violence— Chapter Martin, M., & Anderson, C. (1997),—Parent-Child—WJC Martin, M. M., Anderson, C. M., Burant, P. A., & Weber, K. (1997).—Sibling Violence—CQ Petronio, S., et al. (1997)—QL: Parent-Child Violence (incest)—WJC Rudd, J. E., Dobos, J. A., Vogl-Bauer, S., & Beatty, M. (1997). QL: Marital Violence—WSC Teven, J. J., Martin, M. M., & Neupauer, N. C. (1998). Sibling Violence—CR Varallo, S., Ray, E., & Ellis, B. (1998)—QL: Parent-Child Violence (incest)— JACR Ford, L., Ray, E., & Ellis, B. (1999).—QL: Parent-Child Violence (incest)— JACR (continued on next page)

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TABLE 1.1 (continued)

Kassing, Infante, Pearce, & Pyles (1999)—Parent Child Violence—CRR Wood, J. T. (2000). QL: Common Couple Violence—QRRC Olson, L. N. (2001).—QL: Common Couple Violence—SCA Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (2001).—Parent-Child Violence (i.e., motherchild)—Chapter Wood, J. T. (2001)—QL: Common Couple Violence—JSPR Ford, L., & Crabtree, R. (2002).—QL: Parent-Child Violence (incest)—WSC Noller, P., & Roberts, N. D. (2002).—Married/Cohab Violence—Chapter Olson, L. N. (2002a).—QL: Common Couple Violence—WJC Olson, L. N. (2002b).—QL: Common Couple Violence—CS Olson, L. N. (2002c).—Common Couple Violence—QRRC Olson, L. N., & Golish, T. D. (2002). QL: Common Couple Violence—SCJ Sillars, A. L., K. E., & Roberts, L. J. (2002).—Marital Violence—Chapter Montalbano-Phelps, L. L. (2003).—QL: Common Couple Violence—JFC Eckstein, N. J. (2004).—QL: Parent-Child (actually adolescent to parent violence)—WJC Olson, L. N. (2004b). QL: Common Couple Violence—WSC Olson, L. N., & Braithwaite, D. O. (2004). QL: Common Couple Violence— CS Wilson, S. R., Morgan, W. M., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., & Herman, A. (2004).— Parent-Child Violence (i.e., mother-child)—CM Wood, J. T. (2004)—QL: Common Couple Violence—JSPR Myers, S., & Goodboy, A. (2006)—Sibling Violence—CRR Roberto, A., Carlyle, K., & McClure, L. (2006)—Parent-Child Violence—CRR Wilson, S. R., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., Rack, J. J., & Herman, A. P. (2006)— Parent-Child Violence—JFC

family violence using a trait measure, many communication scholars defined and measured family violence the same as other researchers in sociology, family studies, and psychology. However, initially in the communication discipline, family violence was viewed more uniquely as trait verbal aggression. According to Infante and Wigley (1986), individuals’ trait verbal aggressiveness warranted study because of the harm it does to others’ self-concepts; sometimes it is more harmful and longer lasting than physical aggression. It can also escalate into physical violence. Infante and Wigley (1986) were the first to develop a measure of trait verbal aggressiveness. This measure was a unidimensional scale consisting of 20 items, 10 worded positively and 10 worded negatively (in general, across situations), and contained such items as: “When individuals are very stubborn, I use insults to soften the stubbornness. When individu-

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TABLE 1.2

Published Essays by Year Whitchurch & Pace (1993)—Married/Cohab Violence—Journal of Applied Communication Research West, J. (1995)—Married/Cohab Violence—Chapter Wilson, S., & Whipple, E. (1995)—Parent-Child—Chapter Aid-Ridder, L., & Jones, A. (1996)—Parent-Child—Chapter Cahn, D. (1996)—Family in General—Chapter Ray, E. (1996)—Incest—Chapter Roloff, M. (1996)—Family in General—Chapter Sabourin, T. (1996)—Married/Cohab Violence—Chapter West, J. (1996)—Married/Cohab Violence—Chapter Wilson, S. (1999)—Parent-Child—Research on Language and Social Interaction Ashcroft, C. (2000)—Married/Cohab Violence—Women & Language Wilson, S. (2000)—Parent-Child—Communication Theory Olson, L. (2004a)—Married/Cohab Violence—Journal of Family Communication Anderson, K., Umberson, D., & Elliott, S. (2004).—Family in General—Chapter Morgan, W., & Wilson, S. (2005)—Parent Child Violence—Chapter Cupach, W., & Olson, L. (2006)—Family in General—Chapter Wilson, S. (2006).—Parent-Child Violence—Communication Monographs

als insult me, I get a lot of pleasure out of really telling them off. When nothing seems to work . . . , I yell and scream.” What contributions have those researchers, who followed a “communicator personality trait approach,” made to the study of family violence? Much of their research has focused on establishing the validity of the trait verbal aggressiveness (VA) measure and correlating it with other constructs of interest to communication researchers. While other operational definitions had their roots in the first 10 years of communication research on the subject, it was not until after 1996 that they received more serious attention. Three different ways to operationally define family violence have since emerged, definitions consisting of (a) self-reports of aggression that are both verbal and physical, (b) designations by caregivers and authorities, and (c) self-reports of potential for violence. First, in recent years, some communication researchers viewed family violence as self-reported aggression that is both verbal/psychological and physical and used the relevant dimensions of the Conflict Tactics Scale (CTS; Straus 1990) (e.g., Olson & Golish, 2002) or simply asked people if they were in a violent relationship (e.g., Eckstein, 2004) or were victims of child sexual abuse (Ford, Ray, & Ellis, 1999). Second, some communication researchers accepted those designated as violent or as a victim of abuse by social workers at a shelter,

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judges connected with a court referral program, or therapists. Definitions such as this reflect a robust classification of “aggression, abuse, or violence” used by certain authorities such as police, judges, therapists, and social workers. Finally, other communication researchers viewed family violence as a self-reported potential for verbal and/or physical aggression. According to these researchers, family violence referred to psychological predispositions such as attributions, beliefs, attitudes, and other cognitions that lead to aggressive behavior. A few researchers have determined the propensity toward violent behavior (high risk for physical abuse, abuse potential) using relevant sections of the CTS (Cloven & Roloff, 1993), Dysfunctional Beliefs Assessment (Wilson & Whipple, 2001), or Child Abuse Inventory (CAP) (Wilson, Morgan, Hayes, Bylund, & Herman, 2004). Scores on these measures operationally defined potential verbal abusive or physically violent family members. Thus, the operational definitions communication researchers use for family violence have broadened in recent years from trait VA to self-reports of aggression that are both verbal/psychological and physical, external criteria as used by authorities and self-reports of potential for violence. Which Violent Family Member Relationships Received the Most Attention by Communication Researchers? If one does not give the matter much thought, family violence might seem like a unified subject. However, a closer look reveals that the literature, researchers, key concepts, and approaches vary according to which violent family members are involved. Studies are classified according to the type of violent family member relationship in Tables 1.1 and 1.2. While 3 studies appeared in the communication literature as early as 1986, it was not until Infante, Chandler-Sabourin, and Rudd published in 1989 their famous study of interspousal verbal aggression that research activity took off. Prior to 1996, 11 studies were undertaken on marital/cohabitation aggression, and only 3 studies on parent-child aggression and 1 on family members in general. After 1996, there was an increase in interest in marital/cohabitation/common couple violence with 17 studies reported, but nearly as many (15) were published on other family member relationships: 7 studies focused on parent-child violence along with 5 on incest and three on sibling verbal aggression. As reflected in Table 1.5, of the 15 essays, 6 discussed marital/cohabitation/common couple violence; however, 5 focused on parent-child violence, along with 1 on incest, and 3 on fam-

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ily members in general. Thus, during the past 10 years, communication scholars have moved on from solely studying violence between spouses and intimate partners to violence between other family members including incest. The broadening of family violence from marital/cohabitation partner abuse to other types of family members has added a greater variety of relational concepts to the study of family violence. For example, in the communication literature on cohabiting partner violence, researchers emphasize power, control, and dominance; submission and empowerment issues; gender inequality and oppression; communication and argumentation skills; anger; marital roles, and socialization; hegemonic social forces and victimization; verbal aggression, physical aggression, and battering; relationship (dis)satisfaction, love, and commitment; and relationship conflict. In contrast, the literature on parent-child violence emphasizes discipline and corporal punishment; authoritative, permissive, and authoritarian parenting styles; verbal aggression; physical aggression; parent-child communication; power, control, and parental authority; neglect; antisocial behavior and problem child; infant caregiver role; and in the case of child sexual abuse by other family members, communication researchers focus more on factors involving the disclosure process by incest survivors. Finally, in the communication literature on sibling violence, researchers study sibling rivalry and teasing. What Methodologies Are Used by Communication Scholars to Obtain Communication Data on Family Violence? In the broadest sense, the major methodologies used by communication scholars who are also social scientists are quantitative or qualitative. Of course, the two methodologies may be combined in a single study, but with few exceptions, they were clearly one or the other as shown in Tables 1.3 and 1.4. Initially, the primary method for obtaining data was quantitative. The quantitative method used measures such as rating scales to produce numerical data for statistical analysis. When communication researchers studied the role of communication in family violence, many identified and measured communication to employ it as an independent or dependent variable in their research. As an independent variable, communication was viewed as the stimulus or cause of family violence, such as the role of verbal aggression as a contributor to physical violence. As a dependent variable, communication was seen as the result or outcome of family violence, such as a “chilling effect” where an abused partner suffers in silence or a passive-aggressive response where she (or he) appears to acquiesce to the demands of the aggressor but later seeks help from

8 TABLE 1.3 Quantitative Research Reports (27)

Bayer, C. L., & Cegala, D. J. (1992).—Parent-Child Violence—WJC Beatty, M. J., Burant, P. A., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1996).—Parent-Child Violence (i.e., father-son)—CQ Beatty, M. J., Zelley, J. R., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1994).—Parent-Child Violence (i.e., father-son)—CQ Carey, Colleen, & Mongeau, Paul A. (1996).—Romantic Partner (i.e., dating) Violence—Chapter Cloven, D. H., & Roloff, M. E. (1993).—Romantic Partner (i.e., dating) Violence—CM Harris, L., Gergen, K. J., & Lannamann, J. W. (1986).—(married couple scenario)—CM Hecht, M. et al. (1986).—Parent-Child Violence—CE Infante, D. A., Chandler, T., & Rudd, J. (1989).—Married Partner Violence—CM Infante, D. A., Myers, S. A., & Buerkel, R. A. (1994).—(aggressive family member scenario)—WJC Infante, D. A., Sabourin, T. C., Rudd, J. E., & Shannon, E. A. (1990).—Married Partner Violence—CQ Kassing, J., Infante, D., Pearce, K., & Pyles, S. (1999)—Parent Child Violence— CRR Martin, M. & Anderson, C. (1997),—Parent-Child Violence—WJC Martin, M. M., Anderson, C. M., Burant, P. A., & Weber, K. (1997).—Sibling Violence—CQ Myers, S., & Goodboy, A. (2006)—Sibling Violence—CRR *Noller, P., & Roberts, N. D. (2002).—Married/Cohab Violence—Chapter Rancer, A. S., Baukus, R. A., & Amato, P. (1986).—Marital Violence—CRR Roberto, A., Carlyle, K., & McClure, L. (2006)—Parent-Child Violence—CRR Rogers, L. E., Casleton, A., & Lloyd, S. A. (1996).—Marital Violence—Chapter Rudd, J. E., & Burant, P. A. (1995).—Marital Violence—CRR Rudd, J. E., Burant, P. A., & Beatty, M. J. (1994).—Marital Violence—CRR Sabourin, T. C. (1995).—Married/Cohab Violence—JACR Sabourin, T. C., Infante, D. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1993).—Marital Violence—HCR *Sillars, A., Leonard, K. E., & Roberts, L. J. (2002).—Marital Violence—Chapter Teven, J. J., Martin, M. M., & Neupauer, N. C. (1998). Sibling Violence—CR Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (2001).—Parent-Child Violence (i.e., motherchild)—Chapter Wilson, S. R., Morgan, W. M., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., & Herman, A. (2004).—Parent-Child Violence (i.e., mother-child)—CM Wilson, S. R., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., Rack, J. J., & Herman, A. P. (2006)—ParentChild Violence—JFC *Although I classified them as primarily quantitative, these two studies were mixed in that they included both objective observers and subject interpretation of data.

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TABLE 1.4

Qualitative Research Reports (21) Eckstein, N. J. (2004).—Parent-Child Violence (actually adolescent to parent violence)—WJC Ford, L., & Crabtree, R. (2002).—Parent-Child Violence (incest)—WSC Ford, L., Ray, E., & Ellis, B. (1999).—Parent-Child Violence (incest)—JACR Hegde, R. S. (1996),—Marital Violence—CS Montalbano-Phelps, L. L. (2003).—Common Couple Violence—JFC Olson, L. N. (2001).—Common Couple Violence—SCA *Olson, L. N. (2002a).—Common Couple Violence—WJC Olson, L. N. (2002b).—Common Couple Violence—CS Oson, L. N. (2002c).—Common Couple Violence—QRRC Olson, L. N. (2004b). Common Couple Violence—WSC Olson, L. N., & Braithwaite, D. O. (2004). Common Couple Violence—CS Olson, L. N., & Golish, T. D. (2002). Common Couple Violence—SCJ Petronio, S., et al. (1996).—Parent-Child Violence (incest)—JACR Petronio, S., et al (1997)—Parent-Child Violence (incest)—WJC Rudd, J. E., Dobos, J. A., Vogl-Bauer, S., & Beatty, M. (1997). Marital Violence—WSC Sabourin, T. C., & Stamp, G. H. (1995). Marital Violence—CM Stamp, G. H., & Sabourin, T. C. (1995). Married/Cohab Violence—JACR Varallo, S., Ray, E. & Ellis, B. (1998)—Parent-Child Violence (incest)—JACR Wood, J. T. (2000). Romantic Partner Violence (i.e., Dating Violence)—QRRC Wood, J. T. (2001). Common Couple Violence—JSPR Wood, J. T. (2004). Common Couple Violence—JSPR *Although I classified it as primarily qualitative, this study included quantitative data.

the police and courts. Of the 48 published research reports, 27 were primarily quantitative. There were 13 quantitative articles and chapters published up to 1996, and 14 since then. Although the roots of the qualitative method are traceable to 1995, the method did not gain in popularity until after 1996. Of the total 21 qualitative studies published, only 2 were published prior to 1996 (both in 1995 by Sabourin & Stamp), and 19 have appeared in the communication literature since then. Thus, a change occurred around 1995–1996, which resulted in a shift away from solely quantitative research methods to a greater number of qualitative ones. The shift toward the qualitative method was important because it introduced data for interpretative analysis. Following this approach, researchers relied heavily on subjective data obtained by participant observation, unstructured interviewing, and narrative (stories, accounts)

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analysis. Aggression was perceived differently by victims, offenders, and outside/objective observers. By better understanding the phenomenology of aggression from each person’s own perspective, Stamp and Sabourin (1995) claimed that “those who work with abusive couples may be better equipped to create lasting change” (p. 285). What Constitutes a “Communication Approach” to the Study of Family Violence? Like other disciplines that study family violence, communication has more than one disciplinary approach that appeals to communication researchers. In addition to a split between qualitative and quantitative, there is also a tendency for communication researchers to prefer one disciplinary approach over the others. While the discipline emphasized a “communicator personality trait” approach during the first 10 years, the later 10-year period focused more on a “communication cognition approach” and a “communication interaction approach.” A “Communicator Personality Trait Approach.” What is a communicator personality trait approach to the study of family violence? According to this approach, members of the family are viewed as individual communicators, each endowed with a personality. A personality trait is tied to a particular set of beliefs (i.e., dogmatists are defined as closedminded persons who are unwilling to consider other sets of beliefs). Infante and Wigley (1986) explain that trait measures exist for studying many traits in communicators, such as assertiveness, argumentativeness, hostility, and verbal aggressiveness. Some of the earliest studies on family violence used a trait VA measure, which prevailed mostly from 1986 through 1996. The verbally aggressive personality desires or intends to dominate others by attacking the other’s self-concept and inflicting psychological pain. Trait VA is a subset of hostility, and like hostile people in general, the verbally aggressive person has learned to behave aggressively, but the trait lies latent until aroused. What contributions have those researchers who follow a communicator personality trait approach made to the study of family violence? Much of their research has focused on establishing the validity of the trait VA measure and correlating it with other constructs of interest to communication researchers. For example, when comparing the communication behavior of abusive couples to nonabusive, researchers found that physically violent spouses were in fact more verbally aggressive (as measured by the trait VA measure) than other spouses (Infante, Chandler, & Rudd, 1989; Infante, Sabourin, Rudd, & Shannon, 1990). More recently, Beatty and

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colleagues (1994) found that fathers who rated themselves high in trait VA also appeared verbally aggressive to their sons. In sum, many communication researchers who were interested in family violence published articles on trait VA, but the approach was popular for only about 10 years. Furthermore, none of the researchers developed a training program or manual for trait VA family members who want to improve their conflict and communication skills. However, researchers indicated that argumentation skills include recognizing controversial issues, advocating positions, and refuting positions of others. Thus, such individuals benefited from academic courses in argumentation and debate. A “Communication Cognition Approach.” In more recent years, researchers have adopted a “communication cognition approach” that focuses on the beliefs, perceptions, attributions, and other predispositions that serve as potential for violence. This cognitive approach has identified factors such as beliefs and attitudes, identified abusers’ violence prone predispositions, and described the mental beliefs and attributions needed to enable one to enact or avoid verbal and physical aggressiveness in communication situations. Initially, the verbal aggression research argued for a “communicator personality trait” conceptualization, in which the problematic behavior was traceable to the individual. Later there was a shift toward a “predisposition” conceptualization. According to the later view, there appears to be something in the family context that facilitates the expression of latent hostility. The family context and the latent hostility are contributing factors only when both are present at the same time. Other researchers have attempted to identify other predispositions. A few researchers determined the propensity toward violent behavior (high risk for physical abuse, abuse potential) using relevant sections of the CTS (Cloven & Roloff, 1993), dysfunctional beliefs assessment (Wilson & Whipple, 2001), or CAP (Wilson et al., 2004). Scores on these measures operationally define potential for verbal, psychological, or physical abuse, aggression, or violence. Using the qualitative approach, Stamp and Sabourin (1995) interviewed 15 abusive male spouses to better understand how they perceive themselves and their spouses and account for their abusive behavior. The men provided accounts for their behavior in the forms of justifications, excuses, denials, or efforts to minimize significance of their acts and blamed their wives for their abusive behavior. Meanwhile, the qualitative approach revealed that abused women also provide accounts for their mates’ behavior, but they dissociate the “real him” from his violent acts—that is, he was not being himself (Wood, 2000). In both cases,

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accounts provided by the partners reveal that abusers and their victims perceive the abusive acts differently but in ways that “justify” the abuse. More recently, Wilson and Whipple (2001) found patterns of attributions about a child’s behavior that result in dysfunctional child-rearing beliefs, which in turn automatically produce abusive responses to a child’s (mis)behavior. Later, Wilson and colleagues (2004) related mothers’ child abuse potential with the mother and child’s play behavior and found that children of high-risk mothers displayed higher levels of involvement combined with lower levels of cooperation compared to children of lower-risk mothers. This cognitive approach has identified factors such as beliefs and attributions, identified abusers’ violence prone predispositions, and described the mental beliefs and attributions needed to enable one to avoid verbal and physical aggressiveness in communication situations as a preventive method. A “Communication Interaction Approach.” A communication interaction perspective is useful for examining family relationships because “interaction is the sine qua non of relationships; it is through communicative action that persons initiate, define, maintain, and terminate their social bonds” (Baxter, 1985, p. 245). This explains why many communication scholars view the interaction between communicators as joint ventures and meaning as jointly created. Presumably, humans construct their reality and coordinate their actions by intentionally (or perceived as intentionally) using verbal and nonverbal symbols whose meanings are shared by one another. What constitutes a “communication interaction approach” to the study of family violence? Perhaps the study of “aggression rituals” by Harris, Gergen, and Lannamann (1986) best represents an application of this view of communication to the subject of family violence. The researchers describe violent domestic encounters as a process of “escalating antagonism” consisting of the following sequence involving family members A and B: “A violates a norm or rule; B orders A to cease his or her action; A reproaches B and fails to comply; B insults A; A threatens B; and B then attacks A physically” (p. 254). The interesting point about this sequence of antagonistic acts is that, according to the authors, they increase in intensity until “physical aggression is the proper or appropriate action” (p. 254). In other words, “aggression is not a voluntary act, but the necessary and lawful outcome of certain preconditions” or expectations that are normative in that they are seen as “socially required or obligatory” (pp. 254–55). They found that physical violence served as “a social marker or a punctuating device for a ritual ending” and under certain conditions was viewed as normal and appropriate (p. 263).

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However, while there may exist an understanding among many Americans that violence ends the escalating antagonistic episode for both parties, this is not the same as saying that physically violent behavior is the best way to resolve an escalating conflict. Communication competence is the ability to appropriately and effectively use verbal and nonverbal symbols within a given speech community (e.g., culture, family, or relationship). Symbols arouse meanings according to commonly shared conventions (e.g., rules, norms, and customs). Verbal and nonverbal communication is regulated by these social conventions that vary from one culture to another and that govern what is appropriate, expected, permissible, or prohibited in specific social contexts (Cahn, 1996). Appropriate communication avoids the violation of valued social conventions, whereas effective communication obtains valued goals or effects (Spitzberg, Canary, & Cupach, 1994). Because verbal abuse and physical violence in the family are considered inappropriate responses to conflict situations, communication researchers view abusive and violent acts as the dark side of communication and the abusers and violators as communicatively incompetent (Cahn, 1996). One implication of the communication interaction view of family violence is the emphasis it places on “sequencing” behaviors within communication patterns that differentiate violent from nonviolent family relationships. The qualitative approach has played an important role along with quantitative methods in describing violent behavior in abusive families. In 1995, Sabourin and Stamp compared the communication behavior of 10 couples with a history of abuse and that of 10 nonabusive couples. All the couples were asked to discuss their daily routines, and these conversations were recorded and content analyzed. The two groups of couples were found to vary along several dimensions, which revealed how the abusive couples differed from the nonabusive partners in the ways they managed dialectical tensions in their relationships. Olson (2002a) analyzed transcripts of interviews with 31 individuals who reported experiencing aggression with a spouse, cohabiting partner, or romantic partner during conflicts on the Conflict Tactics Scale (CTS). She found that common couple violence (CCV) was not a simple process, but rather three different types of patterns were identified: aggressive, violent, and abusive, each with its own unique pattern of violent behavior. Olson concluded that CCV is not a unitary construct as originally thought. For another recent example, while her research dealt with physical abuse of parents by adolescents, Eckstein (2004) found that the first episode of adolescent-to-parent abuse experience by parents was verbal abuse. Later, these adolescents progressed to more severe types of emotional or physical abuse. In sum, studies that take a communication interaction view of family violence have identified the phases, stages, or

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steps in the “sequencing” of behaviors within communication patterns that differentiate violent from nonviolent family relationships. When looking over the three approaches that constitute a communication approach to the study of family violence, it appears that the discipline emphasized a “communicator personality trait” approach during the first 10 years but during the following 10-year period focused more on predispositions toward family violence and communication interaction patterns that distinguish violent from nonviolent families. Which Communication Outlets Publish the Most Research on Family Violence? Tables 1.5 and 1.6 show the distribution of research studies and essays by communication publication and identify the publications by their full TABLE 1.5

Research Reports Publication Outlets Quantitative Pre1996 Chapter in Edited Book (Chapter) Communication Education (CE) Communication Monographs (CM) Communication Quarterly (CQ) Communication Reports (CR) Communication Research Reports (CRR) Communication Studies (CS) Human Communication Research (HCR) Journal of Applied Communication Research (JACR) Journal of Family Communication (JFC) Journal of Social and Personal Relationships (JSPR) Qualitative Research Reports in Communication (QRRC) Southern Communication Journal (SCJ) Speech Communication Annual (SCA) Western Journal of Communication (WJC) Women’s Studies in Communication (WSC) Totals

Post 1995

Qualitative Pre1996

Post 1995

5 1 3 2 3

1 2 1 3

1

3 1 1

1 1

3 1 2

2

1

13

14

2 1 1 3 3 2

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names. CM and CRR published the most research reports before 1996. A couple of articles also appeared in CQ, WJC, and JACR, with only one published in HCR and CE. However, after 1996, JACR, CRR, CS, WJC, and WSC published the most research studies, with a couple appearing in CQ, QRRC, and JSPR and only one in CR, JFC, SCJ, and CM. Altogether, 17 communication journals and at least 8 different edited books provided outlets for research reports and essays on family violence. Prior to 1996, there were 15 research reports, none in edited books, but since 1995 there were 33 research reports (a double increase) with 5 in edited books. As for essays, 3 appeared before 1996, with 2 in edited books and 1 in a journal (JACR). After 1995, 13 were published (a substantial increase), with 9 in edited books and 4 in journals. Thus, 1996 marked a significant year in the communication research literature resulting in a greater increase of published research reports and essays on family violence.

Conclusion The results of search engines and the examination of the references used in these articles and chapters identified a total of 48 research reports and 17 essays (i.e., position papers.) Over two-thirds of the research reports and essays appeared in the last 10 years. An examination of these studies revealed a number of changes that have taken place over the years in the study of family violence. My current review shows that research by communication scholars has gone in new directions since 1996. Back then, I defined family or domestic violence conceptually “as the ability to impose one’s will (i.e., wants, needs, or desires) on another person through the use of verbal or nonverbal acts, or both, done in a way that violates socially acceptable TABLE 1.6 Essays Publication Outlets

Chapter in Edited Book (Chapter) 11 (1995, 96, 01, 02, 04, 05, 06) Communication Monographs (CM) 1 (2006) Communication Theory (CT) 1 (2000) Journal of Applied Communication Research (JACR) 1 (1993) Journal of Family Communication (JFC) 1 (2004) Research on Language and Social Interaction 1 (1999) Women and Language 1 (2000)

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standards and carried out with the intention or the perceived intention of inflicting physical and/or psychological pain, injury, or suffering, or both” (Cahn, 1996, p. 6). This definition in fact appeared in a number of studies since that time. However, with the introduction of research into the discipline on the topic of incest, there is a need to broaden the definition and view of family violence to include the sexual exploitation of a relative of one’s own or of one’s significant other under 18 years of age. Therefore, I revise my earlier definition as follows: Family violence may be defined as imposing one’s will (i.e., wants, needs, or desires) on another family member through the use of verbal or nonverbal acts, or both, done in a way that violates socially acceptable standards that are either (1) carried out with the intention or the perceived intention of inflicting physical or psychological pain, injury, and/or suffering, or (2) in the case of incest, of sexually exploiting a relative of one’s own or of one’s significant other under 18 years of age. While this definition is conceptual, researchers have developed their own specific operational definitions of family verbal and physical violence, abuse, and incest. How do communication scholars operationally define and measure family violence? Initially, in the communication discipline, family violence was viewed as trait VA. The primary measuring instrument was a version of the trait VA measure created by Infante and Wigley in 1986. More recently, three additional ways to define family violence have emerged: definitions consisting of self-reports of aggression that are both verbal and physical such as the CTS, definitions consisting of external criteria as used by authorities and therapists, and definitions consisting of self-reports of potential for violence. Which violent family member relationships have received the most attention by communication researchers? Prior to 1996, most studies focused on marital/cohabitation aggression with a few dealing with aggression among parents and children, romantic (dating) partners, and family members in general. During the past 10 years, communication scholars have moved on from primarily studying spouses and intimate partners to focusing more on other types of family member relationships including child sexual abuse. The review shows that there is a need to study additional abusive relationships such as stepchild-parent and aging relatives. What methodologies are used by communication scholars to obtain communication data on family violence? Initially, the primary method for obtaining data was quantitative. However, a change occurred in 1995, which resulted in greater use of qualitative than quantitative research methods. I would advocate combining both qualitative and quantitative methodologies in a study to take advantage of the strengths of both approaches.

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What constitutes a “communication approach” to the study of family violence? Like other disciplines that study family violence, communication has more than one approach that appeals to communication researchers. In addition to a split between qualitative and quantitative, there is also a tendency for communication researchers to prefer a particular approach to communication behavior. Initially, they adhered primarily to a “communicator personality trait” conceptualization, in which the problematic behavior was traceable to the individual’s latent hostility. Later there was a shift toward a “communication cognition approach,” which has identified abusers’ violence prone predispositions and described the mental beliefs and attributions needed to enable one to enact or avoid verbal and physical aggressiveness in communication situations. Also, in recent years, communication researchers have adopted a “communication interaction approach” to the study of family violence. This latter approach has identified the phases, stages, or steps in the “sequencing” of behaviors within communication patterns that differentiate violent from nonviolent family relationships. In the future, I would hope that researchers can create measures that incorporate communication patterns such that abusive families can be identified and perhaps subdivided according to the type of abuse. Which communication outlets publish the most research on family violence? Altogether, 17 communication journals and at least 8 different edited books provided outlets for research reports and essays on family violence. Prior to 1996, there were 15 research reports, none in edited books, but since 1995 there are 33 research reports (a double increase) with 5 in edited books. As for essays, 3 appeared before 1996, with 2 in edited books and 1 in a journal (JACR). After 1995, 13 were published (a substantial increase), with 9 in edited books and 4 in journals. Thus, 1996 marked a significant year in the communication research literature resulting in a greater increase of published research reports and essays on family violence. Given that many studies were published by communication researchers after 1996, I decided that it is time to revisit the subject.

Notes 1. It appears from my review of the literature that the origin of interest by the communication discipline in the subject of family violence started when Teresa Chandler Sabourin and her colleagues presented a paper on marital violence at the International Communication Association’s conference in 1983. She went on to complete her dissertation on that topic and presented a paper at the Speech Communication Association Conference in 1986.

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2. To find relevant key words for family violence, I used the search engines ERIC and PsycInfo. Through them, I found that family was associated with domestic, spouse, martial, elder, and child. I added sibling after finding studies on that topic. I also added dating/courtship violence to the list of key terms because, according to Olson (2004b), patterns of spousal violence frequently start prior to marriage. I also found that violence was associated with such terms as abuse, battered, incest, and aggression. 3. I limited this review to research reports and essays published in communication journals or chapters in books edited by scholars associated with communication departments. This review excluded convention papers and published studies that were not written by communication faculty. I assumed that the editors of communication journals and edited communication books and their reviewers paid attention to the relevance of their accepted submissions to the study of communication as a discipline. Conversely, with the exception of the interdisciplinary Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, I did not include articles published in journals outside the communication discipline even when written by faculty associated with communication departments because I could not assume that the editors and their reviewers required a communication perspective from their contributors. JSPR is an exception in that communication faculty edit and review submissions from communication faculty. I did not include unpublished papers such as convention papers by communication faculty because many papers do not go through the same blind review process that guides publication in scholarly journals and edited books. The creators of communication research search engines have identified those scholarly journals that make up the communication discipline. Using the family and violence-relevant key words, I searched COMINDEX and Communication and Mass Media Complete for journal articles on the subject. I excluded from my search articles of interest primarily to our media colleagues on the effects of television, movies, or video games and articles of interest primarily to our journalism colleagues on the reporting of family violence in the media. My review did not include more general publications on “women” or on “abuse” unless either was identified in a family, marital, or parent-child context. Because relationships are culture bound, I did not include in my review articles on family violence in other cultures, with the exception of Hegde’s (1996) study that was one of the first in a series of similar qualitative studies on American women. I also excluded published book reviews. To find chapters in edited books contributed by scholars associated with communication departments, I used PsycInfo. I selected those chapters where the senior author of the contribution and the editor of the book were associated with a communication department or were members of a national communication association—namely, NCA or ICA. A search of PsycInfo for chapters in edited books produced 10 chapters contributed by scholars associated with communication departments. The senior author of the contribution and the editor of the book were associated with a communication department or were members of a national communication association (NCA, ICA). These chapters appeared in the following edited books:

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Socha and Stamp (1995), Cahn and Lloyd (1996), Ray (1996), Manusov and Harvey (2001), Noller and Feeney (2002), Vangelisti (2004), Kalbfleisch (2005), and Braithwaite and Baxter (2006)

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Wilson, S. R., (2006). First and second-order changes in a community’s response to a child abuse fatality. Communication Monographs, 73(4), 481–487. Wilson, S. R., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., Rack, J. J., & Herman, A. P. (2006). Mother’s trait verbal aggressiveness and child abuse potential. Journal of Family Communication, 6(4), 279–296. Wilson, S. R., Morgan, W. M., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., & Herman, A. (2004). Mothers’ child abuse potential as a predictor of maternal and child behaviors during play-time interactions. Communication Monographs, 71(4), 395–421. Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (1995). Communication, discipline, and physical child abuse. In T. J. Socha & G. H. Stamp, Parents, children, and communication: Frontiers of theory and research (pp. 299–317). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (2001). Attributions and regulative communication by parents participating in a community-based child physical abuse prevention program. In V. Manusov & J. H. Harvey (Eds). Attribution, communication behavior, and close relationships (pp. 227–247). New York: Cambridge University Press. Wood, J. T. (2000). “That wasn’t the real him”: Women’s dissociation of violence from the men who enact it. Qualitative Research Reports in Communication, 1, 1–7. Wood, J. T. (2001). The normalization of violence in heterosexual romantic relationships: Women’s narratives of love and violence. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 18(2), 239–261. Wood, J. T. (2004). Monsters and victims: Male felons’ accounts of intimate partner violence. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 21, 555–576.

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Couples’ Violence

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2 Relational Control-Motivated Aggression A Theoretical Framework for Identifying Various Types of Violent Couples

LOREEN N. OLSON

The stereotypical and most-studied violent relationship typically contains a male and female romantic dyad in which the male beats the woman severely and regularly, leaving her isolated and frightened for her life. This type of relationship is indeed horrific, far too common, warrants intervention, and demands society’s attention. For the past several decades, practitioners and scholars alike have dedicated their professional lives to understanding the dynamics involved in violent romantic relationships. As a result of this work, more is known about the psychological, sociological, communicative, clinical, legal, and public policy elements of relational violence. Yet important questions remain unanswered. As noted by Johnson and Ferraro (2000), one promising area for future development is the distinction among types of intimate relationships characterized by violence. Recognizing the variability that exists within this couple form is central to the theoretical and practical understanding of the subject area. Extant literature has demonstrated important distinctions between, for example, various forms of violence against women (Johnson, 1995); different types of batterers (e.g., Berns, Jacobson, & Gottman, 1999; Gottman et al., 1995; Jacobson & Gottman, 1998), couples who are maritally violent/distressed, nonviolent/distressed, and nonviolent/nondistressed (e.g., Anglin & HoltzworthMunroe, 1997; Clements, Holtzworth-Munroe, Schweinle, & Ickes, 27

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2007; Holtworth-Munroe, Stuart, Hutchinson, 1997; Jacobson et al., 1994); and men who are sexually violent only (as compared to those who are physically violent, Marshall & Holtzworth-Munroe, 2002). More specifically, through a series of studies, Holtworth-Munroe and colleagues (e.g., Holtzworth-Munroe & Meehan, 2004; HoltzworthMunroe, Meehan, Herron, Rehman, & Stuart, 2003) have identified a tripartite typology of men who are martially violent and found important differences between them. The distinctions appear to vary along two continua: antisociality and borderline personality features (Holtzworth-Munroe, 2000). The types of men have been labeled family-only batterers, dysphoric/borderline batterers, and generally violent/antisocial batterers (for a review, see Holtzworth-Munroe & Stuart, 1994). Admittedly, the previously noted typologies are not meant to be an exhaustive review of the literature on the topic. Instead, they are intended to provide a partial glimpse into the type of work being done. While these and other typologies have made a tremendous impact on the study of intimate partner violence, many of them are limited in their theoretical scope because they tend to define violent relationships primarily by the presence of physical aggression; to focus extensively on males’ use of aggression against their female partners (even more specifically on married men’s use of aggression); to highlight the role of the batterer’s psychopathology while downplaying some of the more situational, cultural, interactional, and dyadic processes; and to limit their theoretical positioning of control, a construct often acknowledged as being at the heart of enactment of violence in relationships. Thus, a broader, more comprehensive, and inclusive theory is needed in hopes of providing both a deeper and broader understanding of violent romantic relationships. As such, the purpose of this chapter is to summarize a new theory called “relational control-motivated aggression” (RCMA, Olson, 2004). This theory and its corresponding violent couple typology were empirically derived as a result of the aforementioned limitations in the extant typological theorizing and out of efforts to make sense of the interplay between control and aggression. After reviewing the early frameworks that led to the creation of RCMA, a summary of the theory and typology is presented.

Intimate Partner Violence: A Case for Multiple Perspectives Early Frameworks In his classic article, sociologist Michael Johnson (1995) was the first to articulate a dual perspective approach to the study of intimate partner

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violence as a way of making sense out of the contradictory findings within the literature at that point in time. Since his work has laid the groundwork for the important recognition of variability within relationships characterized by aggression, a brief summary of his arguments are presented next. Johnson (1995) originally noted that one perspective toward the study of domestic violence (the feminist perspective) came from a set of researchers who collected their data qualitatively from battered women who had come into contact with social service agencies or quantitatively from governmental crime statistics. Researchers conducting these studies often find that women are the primary victims of frequent, escalating, and severe violence. Johnson labeled the type of violence revealed by these studies as “patriarchal terrorism” (PT). PT was changed to “intimate terrorism” (IT) in later writings (e.g., Johnson & Ferrerro, 2000). Patriarchal terrorism, according to Johnson, is “a product of patriarchal traditions of men’s right to control their women [and] is a form of terroristic control of wives by their husbands that involves the systematic use of not only violence, but economic subordination, threats, isolation, and other control tactics” (p. 284). According to Johnson (1995), a second perspective, the family violence perspective, represents the work of researchers who conduct random, national surveys on family violence and measure the violence quantitatively. They find that men and women equally engage in “occasional” acts of violence that do not escalate or become more severe over time. According to Johnson, these national, quantitative surveys only reveal one form of interpersonal violence, labeled by him originally as “common couple violence” (CCV), which was defined as the “dynamic in which conflict occasionally gets ‘out of hand,’ leading usually to ‘minor’ forms of violence, and more rarely escalating into serious, sometimes even life-threatening, forms of violence” (Johnson, 1995, p. 285). CCV has since been changed to “situational couple violence” (Johnson, 2003). The net result of these different views of domestic violence is how their interpretive lens affects how power and control are managed within violent relationships. Johnson (1995) asserted that these two perspectives are tapping into different types of power and control found within violent behavior. Johnson argued that the type of violence in these types of relationships, “common couple violence,” is unlike the insidious pattern of control found within “patriarchal terrorism.” Instead, the common couple violence captured through survey sampling portrays a less systematic and pervasive pattern of control and is more indicative of a conflict that erupted. In other words, the violence is the result of incompetent communication or conflict that has gotten out of hand. Unlike patriarchal terrorists whose motivation is to control “their” wives by any

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means necessary, the need to establish control within common couple violence is limited to the conflict at hand and does not represent a “general intent to control one’s partner” (Johnson, 1995, p. 291). Current Framework More recently, Johnson (2001, 2006) used an existing data set from the 1970s to identify four couple types: intimate terrorism, violent resistant, mutual violent control, and situational couple violence. Control dynamics constitute core features of these couples. In fact, Johnson (2006) noted that the “distinction [between couples] lies in the degree of control present” (p. 1006). Specifically, Johnson (2001) noted that relational violence can or cannot be controlling and can be used by one or both partners. These classifications of control contribute to the definitions of each couple type. Mutual violent control couples are where both partners are violent and controlling. Violent resistant is where the partner is both violent and controlling and the “focal spouse” (research participant) is violent but not controlling. Noncontrolling violence where neither spouse is violent and controlling represents the relationships labeled as situational couple violence. Finally, intimate terrorism consists of relationships in which one partner is violent and controlling but the other is not. Empirical analyses have found at least partial support for Johnson’s couple types (e.g., Graham-Kevan & Archer, 2003; Kaukinen, 2004; Olson, 2002c).

Relational Control-Motivated Aggression Theory and Corresponding Typology of Violent Couples Theoretical Principles Building upon Johnson’s work, I (Olson, 2004) proposed the RCMA theory of intimate aggression and corresponding typology of violent couples that grew out of empirical work conducted (see Olson, 2000, 2002a, b, c). The inductively constructed theory and typology are mechanisms for theoretically organizing the role control plays in the use of violence in intimate relationships. Although Johnson’s (2001, 2006) more recent writings account for more variations of control than has past scholarship, a need for further conceptualization still remains. As such, RCMA theory is grounded in three primary principles. First, relational control dynamics are the core reasons why partners use aggression. Second, the construct of control is seen as multidimensional and enacted relationally. Third, the multidimensional properties of control become a mechanism for differentiating violent couples from one

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another. To follow is a detailed summary of the theory, the violent couple typology, and the ways in which they both can be used to advance the study of intimate violence. General Classification Scheme: Type and Frequency of Aggression As noted earlier, most research on domestic violence has tended to focus primarily on relationships characterized by physical aggression. Even the couple types identified by Johnson (1999) and empirically examined by others (e.g., Graham-Kevan & Archer, 2003) are defined as violent because of the presence of physically aggressive acts. Communication scholars (e.g., Rudd, Beatty, & Burant, 1994; Sabourin, Infante, & Rudd, 1993) have added verbal aggression to the study of these relationships, but many of these studies continue to sample abused/abusive individuals and, therefore, have examined the use of verbal aggression within relationships characterized by physical violence. Although abundant, the research on physically violent relationships has not made many attempts to theoretically account for differences in the type or frequency of the physical violence. Moreover, studies that examine other forms of abuse, such as emotional, psychological, and verbal, have tended to study these types of violence in isolation from one another or as a part of physically violent relationships (e.g., Cattaneo, 2007). In other words, relatively little is known about how all of these types of violence may coexist in a violent relationship or how they may serve to define relationships as violent in and of themselves (without the coexistence of physical aggression). The theory of RCMA is an attempt to take multiple types and varying frequencies of aggression into account. As such, the theoretical structure begins with a type and frequency of aggression hierarchical classification system. A concerted effort was given to acknowledging that various forms and frequencies of violence exist and become useful ways of differentiating violent couples from one another. Type of Aggression. Using the types of violence captured by the often used instrument to quantitatively study family violence—the Conflict Tactics Scale (CTS1, Straus, 1979)—as a point of reference, the RCMA theory accounts for four categories of violence. It is important to note that additional verbal and emotional/psychological forms of aggression not included in the CTS were added to these categories. Starting with the least severe form of violence, the category of low aggression includes “acts such as yelling, crying, refusing to talk, or stomping out of the room” (Olson, 2004, p. 214). The next level, moderate aggression, includes more psychologically harmful acts of verbal aggression (e.g.,

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insulting and swearing at the other partner) and noncontact displays of physical aggression (e.g., kicking or throwing objects). High aggression, the third category, includes even more severe psychologically harmful verbal aggression (e.g., belittling, personal attacks, condemnations of the others selfhood) and contact forms of physical aggression (e.g., pushing, shoving). Finally, the severe aggression category takes into account acts of severe verbal abuse (e.g., threats to the safety of the partner, children, or pets) and more harmful forms of physical violence (e.g., kicking, biting, raping, using a weapon, beating). Frequency of Aggression. As argued by Johnson (1995), per couple frequency of aggression is a notable way of accounting for differences between types of violent relationships. Because of this theoretical footing, it made sense that the RCMA theory also account for differences in the frequency of aggression within relationships characterized by violence. Thus, using Johnson’s (1995) data as a basis, four frequency-ofaggression levels were created. The annual category includes one to two acts of aggression per year. The monthly category, as the name suggests, accounts for as many as 1 act per month or 3 to 12 incidents per year; whereas the bimonthly grouping comprises as many as 2 acts per month or 13 to 24 acts per year. Finally, the weekly category is defined as one that includes aggressive acts that occur as frequently as once per week or at minimum 25 incidents per year. By combining type and frequency, the RCMA theory identifies four general violent couple types: combative, aggressive, violent, and abusive (see Figure 2.1). First, combative relationships are those that contain low levels of aggression and annual frequency. Aggressive relationships include moderate levels and monthly frequency; whereas violent couples experience high levels and bimonthly frequency. Finally, individuals in abusive relationships are hypothesized to experience extreme levels and weekly frequency of aggression. I would like to note that the 4 x 4 design implied by the types and frequencies described above would statistically result in 16 couple types. However, for the sake of brevity, the RCMA theory accounts for four general categories. Thus, the four couple types are seen as containing a fair amount of variance within them. The basic structure is an attempt to systematically account for the variety that obviously exists within and beyond each cell. Properties and Dimensions of Control Issues of power, control, and domination are inherent in many definitions of family or couple violence (Johnson, 1995, 2001; Yllo, 2005). For example, Cahn (1996) defined interpersonal violence as

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High

Abusive

Violent

Moderate Low

Aggression Severity

Severe

FIGURE 2.1 Preliminary Violent Couple Classification Scheme

Aggressive

Combative

Annual

Monthly

Bimonthly

Weekly

Aggression Frequency

[t]he ability to impose one’s will (i.e. wants, needs, or desires) on another person through the use of verbal or nonverbal acts or both, done in a way that violates socially acceptable standards and carried out with the intention or the perceived intention of inflicting physical or psychological pain, injury, or suffering or both. (p. 6)

Inherent in this definition is the assumption that the abuser’s intentional (perceived or real) purpose is to exercise power, control, or domination over the other. Moreover, the “power and control wheel” created by the Duluth batterers-education project and used by domestic violence shelters across the country is practical evidence of the role that control plays in these types of relationships (Pence & Paymar, 1993). Visually the model looks like a wheel with power and control at the center or hub. The hub is connected to physical and sexual violence on the outer circle via various “spokes” that represent different control tactics—intimidation, use of male privilege, coercion and threats, emotional abuse, minimization and denial, use of children, isolation, and economic abuse. According to Yllo (2005), the model “provides a valuable, concise framework for seeing the interconnections between violence and other forms of coercive control or control tactics (emphasis in original, p. 22).

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So, while scholars and practitioners acknowledge the key role that control plays in intimate partner violence, much of the academic literature on this topic has viewed the construct as unidimensional. The RCMA theory begins with the position that control is, indeed, at the heart of these types of relationships; however, Olson (2004) also argues that control is best viewed as a construct that contains three specific properties and corresponding dimensions. To follow is a description of the properties and dimensions of control followed by a summary of the violent couple typology that is the theoretical extension of the RCMA. Property of Ownership. According to the RCMA theory, control is something that can be owned by individuals in the relationship. The theory also hypothesizes that two dimensions of the ownership property exist: individual and dyadic. In other words, one individual in the relationship can possess the control, or both partners can. Thus, the relationship is considered symmetrical when both partners use control and complementary when only one person does. Property of Movement. In addition to viewing control as something that a partner could possess, the RCMA theory also posits that control can be seen as a dynamic construct that contains movement. The movement can happen in a couple of different ways (dimensions). First, the control could be fluid, alternating back and forth between partners, or, it could be stable, remaining relatively unchanged relationally. Property of Location. The final property recognized by the RCMA theory views control as something that consumes physical space as if it could assume an actual place or location within the relationship. There are two location dimensions: systemic and episodic. A systemic form of control includes instances when control is pervasive, seeping into all aspects of the couple’s interactional lives. However, control can be episodic or contained within the boundaries of specific types of interactions (aka episodes), such as conflict “episodes.”

Typology of Violent Intimate Relationships Building upon the general classification system of four violent couples previously noted (type and frequency of aggression), the properties and dimensions of control are combined in a 2 x 2 x 2 fashion, leading to the creation of a theoretically based typology of eight violent couple types. For the sake of clarification, it is important to note that because I am using terms that are often considered synonyms for violence, I capi-

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talize the labels when they refer to a particular violent couple type. Otherwise, violence (not capitalized) may be used as a synonym for aggression and abuse. At this point, it becomes helpful to divide the typology in half when discussing the different couple types—specifically, separating the Abusives and Violents from the Aggressives and Combatives. As indicated in Figure 2.2, this split represents a differentiation between the couples based upon the property of location—whether the fight for control is systemic or episodic. This property of control is perhaps the most fundamental to understanding how violent couples may vary from one another. When the Fight for Control Is Pervasive: The Abusives and the Violents The Abusives. Couples classified as Abusive represent the most violent of the relationships captured by the typology. Specifically, the RCMA FIGURE 2.2 Violent Couple Typology

Property of Ownership Property of Location Property of Movement Systemic Stable

Individual #1

#2 Abusive

Systemic Fluid

#3

Episodic Fluid

#5

Episodic Stable

#7

Dyadic

Mutually Abusive #4

Violent

Mutually Violent #6

Aggressive

Mutually Aggressive #8

Combative

Mutually Combative

From Journal of Family Communication, 2004 (4), p. 221 (www.informaworld. com).

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theory hypothesizes that these complementary relationships will contain extreme types and weekly frequency of aggression. There are two forms of Abusive couples captured by the typology. First, Abusive relationships will contain a pattern of control that is individual (ownership), stable (movement), and systemic (location). It is believed that this category is probably the closest to Johnson’s (2001, 2006) notion of an intimate terrorist whereby one partner has gained power over the other person in the relationship and exerts that power by controlling the submissive partner’s every move. The control within those classified as Mutually Abusive, the second couple within the Abusive category, will also be stable and systemic but dyadic—with both partners asserting themselves in a symmetrical fashion as they attempt to dominate the other. The relationship between the characters played by Kathaleen Turner and Michael Douglas in the film War of the Roses, is believed to be a perfect example of a mutually abusive one. Both partners are unrelenting in their attempt to control the other partner, and they will go to any violent means to reach that end state, perhaps even to the point of death as portrayed in the movie. Exemplar of an Abusive Relationship. Joshua, a man in his early 40s, met and dated his wife-to-be for approximately one and a half years prior to their marriage.1 According to Joshua, there were no confrontations during their courtship period. However, this quickly changed after they purchased a home and moved in together two weeks before the wedding. It was at this point that he began to witness to his fiancée’s “wild, aggressive mood swings.” In the beginning, he did not engage or respond to her aggression, rationalizing that nerves about the impending wedding caused her behavior. As a nonaggressive, nonconfrontational person, Joshua was shocked by her behavior but did not respond to it at first. He remarked, “it’s not an environment or circumstance that I was familiar with, so, at first, ah, it was just kinda do nothing. I’m, you know, I’m in shock from trying to figure out what in the hell is going on.” After the wedding, Joshua’s new wife’s sudden and severe outbursts did not change. Instead, they escalated in both severity and frequency. Joshua noted, “[Y]ou know, her reactions to the simplest things were just too severe, and it scared me. It freaked me out.” During these early months of the marriage, Joshua continued a nonconfrontational stance. He withdrew as a method of protection. In his words, “I get quiet in confrontations. Typically. I withdraw because that’s my way of protecting. I don’t engage the engager. The aggressor. I shut down. And, I become noncommunicative.” Unfortunately, Joshua’s withdrawal irritated his new wife, causing her to become even

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angrier, more confrontational, and verbally aggressive. As a result, their arguments continued to escalate in severity with Joshua retreating and his wife becoming more and more aggressive. Eventually, Joshua began to “mildly engage” her. Doing so, however, made the arguments even more severe and longer in length. In time, Joshua could no longer stand up to her. Joshua left his controlling wife after only seven short months of married life. His wife’s attempts to control the household and its members represented a systemic pattern of control that seeped beyond the boundaries of their conflicts. Their arguments continued to escalate, becoming more aggressive with each passing one. In addition, while Joshua attempted to assert control, he eventually backed down to her out of fear of what she could do to him. In other words, the control eventually stabilized with his wife emerging as the most powerful individual within the relationship. She had an ability to take him to places he had never before experienced emotionally. The rage he felt and the urge to hit her frightened him beyond imagination. This fear caused him to withdraw, first, emotionally and, finally, physically. He no longer could deal with the “emotional damage” that he was experiencing within this relationship and, therefore, left the marriage, his wife, home, and stepchildren, wishing he could “erase that nearly 2 years experience completely.”

As represented in Joshua’s story, the pattern of control within the Abusive couple type is representative of a complementary relationship in which one partner achieves a stable pattern of control and domination over the other. Mutually Abusives are similar except that both partners control and dominate the other in a symmetrical fashion. These relational control patterns are both constituted and reflected in their communication. Specifically, it is hypothesized that a variety of domineeringness and submissiveness patterns, including, for example, the chilling effect and high levels of complementarity or one-up/one-downs, will permeate the Abusive couples’ relational communication culture. Moreover, the communication within Mutually Abusive relationships is expected to include more nonsupport messages and dominant messages, such as one-up competitive symmetry. The Violents. The two couple types within this category, Violent and Mutually Violent, are hypothesized to experience high levels and bimonthly frequency of violence (Olson, 2004). Further, the control within the Violent couple type, specifically, is individual, fluid, and systemic, making it a complementary type of relationship. For example, one person may attempt to dominate the other partner and the entire

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relationship, but that control pattern is rather fluid, meaning that the attempts to control may be intermittent, met with resistance, and perhaps retaliatory in nature. Similarly, Mutually Violent relationships are characterized by fluid and systemic patterns of control, but rather than one person possessing the control, the ownership is dyadic, whereby both partners attempt to dominate the other’s every move in fluid, inconsistent, but symmetrical ways. These relationships are believed to be quite similar to the Abusives in that the fight for control seeps into all aspects of the romantic relationship (systemic), beyond particular conflict episodes. In addition to slightly less severe forms and lower amounts of aggression, however, these couples differ from Abusives with regards to how much the control fluctuates between partners. Specifically, the fluid nature of the control within these relationships makes them extremely volatile. As such, it is hypothesized that these relationships will be characterized by various forms of domineering and dominant patterns of communication, such as competitive symmetry and redundant control patterns. Exemplar of a Violent Relationship. Tammie, a college student when I interviewed her, had been involved in a dating relationship characterized by violence and dramatic power shifts. Her relationship was representative of others within the Violent Couple type. When I first met Tammie, she had been out of the relationship she was about to describe for approximately six months. However, her ability to recall the dynamics of this relationship underscored the drama that occurred within it. Her dating relationship began as most do—a lot of fun and little conflict. When she and her boyfriend first had disagreements, Tammie was quick to give in. Eventually, however, Tammie began to notice that she was backing down to her boyfriend, and he was attempting to control everything she said and did. Realizing she was doing this, Tammie started to challenge her boyfriend. He fought her attempts at control, causing her to submit once again. However, the roles fluctuated back and forth with Tammie being in the oneup, dominant position on occasion as well. Because of the fluid nature of the control, Tammie and her boyfriend broke up and got back together continuously over a 25-month period. Unfortunately, the fluid nature of the control maneuvers led to several aggressive encounters. One especially severe incident involved her boyfriend pinning her on the bed and putting a lighter to her face. Tammie described the encounter as follows: He was physically on top of me then and mmm, like kept pushing me down on the bed or something and wasn’t gonna

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let me, and I almost think he was like, it was like, mmm, almost like he was like torturing me because he was doing something to my arm, and I wouldn’t like cry, you know? And he wanted me to, he wanted to like hurt me or something. . . . I was trying to get him off of me and he’s so heavy, I was like God! And, I couldn’t get him off of me and mmm, and ah, he had a lighter at one point and he was like flicking it like right near my like face. Fortunately, Tammie got away from her boyfriend without being seriously hurt. However, according to Tammie, it became routine for her and her boyfriend to fight as they did in this one episode. Admittedly, Tammie reacted aggressively toward her boyfriend also, but, as so often happens in instances of female-initiated aggression, the violence was less severe in nature. Tammie explained, I started kind of fighting back with him. There were times where I would choose not to fight, like I just don’t want to fight this time and, but then when I did try to control things or when I tried to basically just voice what I, you know, what I wasn’t voicing before, then it would get to that high aggression where he was, you know, physically [aggressive]. For Tammie, these mutually violent acts were something that she “couldn’t stop” but didn’t know why. Luckily, she was able to distance herself just enough to end the relationship once and for all.

In sum, Violent relationships, like Tammie’s, are characterized by high levels of violence and bimonthly frequency. The fight for control for Violents (complementary relationships), specifically, is individual, fluid, and systemic. Individuals in these types of relationships both want and attempt to control the other in all that they do, making the fight for control rather fluid since both parties are fighting for it. Mutually Violents (symmetrical relationships) are similar except both individuals exercise their individual desire for control. As indicated in these two narratives, Abusive and Violent couples experience severe and frequent forms of aggression. Moreover, one or both partners seek to dominate and control all of the everyday actions of the other partner. Thus, the systemic nature of the control within these relationships is believed to represent a belief in the right to control another person and therefore viewed as a psychological construct that is more individual than relational or interaction based. As such, these forms of relationships are considered emotionally (and physically) dangerous to the individuals involved. Professional intervention is needed to

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eliminate the violence and better manage the relationship. In contrast, the next four violent couples represent categories in which the use of aggression is seen more as an inability to handle conflict constructively. When the Fight for Control Is Contained within Conflict Episodes: The Aggressives and Combatives The Aggressives. The RCMA theory postulates that the pattern of control within the complementary Aggressive couple type will be individual, fluid, and episodic. Once again, the only difference for the Mutually Aggressive type is that control is believed to be dyadic rather than individual, thereby making the latter a symmetrical relationship form. The aggression in these relationships is much less severe and less frequent than that occurring within the Abusive and Violent categories—specifically, moderate levels and monthly frequency are anticipated. It is believed that the aggression used in these relationships is the result of the mounting frustration built during a conflict that has gotten out of hand. Thus, the individuals in these relationships are more likely to be unable to successfully manage conflict than possess a general belief in the right to control another. The communication patterns employed by individuals in these types of relationships are also expected to reflect these control dynamics. Specifically, it is hypothesized that the individuals in Aggressive and Mutually Aggressive relationships will possess relatively healthy communication climates overall. The conflict, however, is expected to reflect unhealthy patterns such as distributive conflict styles and face-threatening compliance-gaining strategies. As a result of the individual partners’ inability to manage conflicts and the fluid nature of the control, these relationships will be chaotic at times—especially during conflict episodes. Hence, the aggression expressed can be rather intense (e.g., insults, swearing) and happen rather frequently (e.g., once per month). Heather’s relationship is an example of this couple type, namely, the Mutually Aggressive relationship that illustrates the dyadic struggle for control and the symmetrical escalating nature of their conflicts. Exemplar of a Mutually Aggressive Relationship. Heather and her husband had been married for approximately two years when I met her, but they had been together for a total of five years. The two of them had been through a lot together, including series of deep depressions and moves around the United States and abroad. According to Heather, their conflicts were very “analytical, very long discussions, very controlled, very normal” at the beginning of their relationship. As time went on, however, that changed. Their disagree-

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ments included “a lot of ignoring and, you know, sulking, and it turned more, you know, more violent, more physical.” Heather described several instances in which their conflicts escalated to the point where insults were often used to attack the other partner, and furniture was broken to prove a point. The violence was typically the result of Heather and her husband struggling for control during a particular conflict episode. No one partner dominated the relationship or the conflicts. Instead, they both attempted to gain compliance and win the arguments, often causing their disagreements to escalate out of control. Therefore, the control was dyadic and fluid, constantly shifting between the two of them. Additionally, their fights for control were episodic or contained within the boundaries of specific conflicts. Heather admitted that she and her husband both tried to control each other during their arguments, but beyond that, they exerted little control over each other. Referring to her husband’s attempt to control her on a day-to-day basis, Heather remarked, “He could care less. It just seems like when we argue he feels the need to be the one in control. But, otherwise, I don’t think he really cares.” Time seemed to have tempered them somewhat as well. According to Heather, she and her husband were not as volatile as they used to be.

Combatives. The final two couple types are Combative (complementary relationship) and Mutually Combative (symmetrical relationship). The aggression is the lowest of all of the couple types with low levels and yearly frequency anticipated. Control for both couples has stabilized, reflecting a stable property of movement and is either individual (Combative) or dyadic (Mutually Combative). Similar to the Aggressives, the control dynamics are also mostly negotiated within conflict episodes, hence the episodic dimension of the location property. The minor forms of aggression used by individuals within these relationships are expected to be the exception to the rule, rather than the norm. In fact, their communication will reflect general healthy patterns. Likewise, their conflicts, for the most part, will also be well managed. On occasion, however, one or both partners will use some aggression to win his/her point. Thus, some unhealthy forms of conflict resolution are expected to be used by these relational partners every once and awhile. Leslie’s relationship is an example of the Combative couple type. An Exemplar of a Combative Relationship. Leslie and her husband had been married for almost three years at the time of our interview. Their typical conflicts usually involved disputes over finances or their families. Included in these disagreements were heated discussions and

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maybe loud voices, but “not screaming.” However, Leslie described several instances in which she and her husband (or boyfriend at the time) experienced conflicts that were more aggressive in nature. But Leslie was very uncomfortable with this because she grew up in a family that would not allow voices to be raised. Leslie commented that “as soon as I raised my voice, to my mother, the discussion was over with.” In contrast, her husband’s family was much more verbally confrontative. Initially, Leslie was uneasy with her husband’s more confrontational tone with her and would attempt to get him to stop talking with her in such a way. She reflected, I’d say, “quit raising your voice at me.” And, he’d say, “this is not raising my voice. I’ll show you what’s raising my voice.” And, so, coming from a family that didn’t at all, and then from his family who did all the time (chuckles), you know, it was really hard. Because here I’m thinking, “[W]hy are you so mad?” You know? Why is he getting so upset about, I mean, granted we can talk about something heated without raising our voice, and to me, raising your voice is still getting heated up. Over time, Leslie admitted that she began to take on her husband’s aggressive tone; she would “try to match his voice.” As a result, their disagreements became slightly more aggressive during a particular phase of their relationship because of the escalating symmetry or series of one-up, one-up interactions. Importantly, the aggression Leslie and her husband primarily used was an increase in tone as opposed to name-calling, verbal insults, or physical contact. However, one particular episode was more severe than all others. Much to Leslie’s chagrin, she and her husband had been invited to his parents’ home for Easter. The fight erupted over locating a platter for the deviled eggs they were taking with them. To follow is an extended excerpt from Leslie’s description of this event, L: So, we’re, we, I’m sitting on the couch and he’s searching around the kitchen to find a platter. And, I’m like, “M [referring to husband], we’re running late. Let’s go.” I hate being late. So, I’m getting ticked off that we’re going to be late, cuz I want to get there as soon as we’re supposed to be there. Hopefully, everyone else is late, and we don’t have to, you know, spend as much time. Try to bail earlier if we’re there earlier, you know? So, he’s, he keeps digging around for something. It’s like, “I know we have a platter in here somewhere. Where is the platter?” I’m like, “let’s just take it over like that”—in the cartons that we got from Hy-

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Vee or whatever. “I can’t do that, that’s tacky. We at least need to put it on something nice. We just can’t take it over in this plastic.” I’m like, “they could care less. Let’s just take it, get out of here, and go.” Oh, one thing leads to another and it’s more, just digging around, and I’m saying, “just quit messing.” I mean, he’s throwing stuff, I mean, he’s pulling all this stuff out of my drawers, and, you know, digging through stuff and nothing’s, everything’s messy now. And, he won’t put it back. So, I’m getting ticked off because he’s destroying my kitchen, and he’s getting pissed off because I’m not helping. So, he starts yelling, and I’m like, “don’t yell at me.” And, I kept my voice down. And, I didn’t get loud. I: What was he yelling? L: “Help me! Help me! I need to find something. I can’t take this over.” I’m like, “they could care less. Let’s not worry about this. Let’s just go ahead and get this over with.” And, he continues to yell about not being able to find a platter. And, “I know we have a platter.” And, I’m like, “yeah, we do. But they’re packed. Everything’s packed. We’ve been living out of boxes for years. I’m not unpacking this stuff just for your parents.” “Oh, this is tacky. This is so tacky.” Well, (pause) it just, it just kept going until he raised his voice enough that I said, “forget it. I’m not going.” And, then all hell broke loose (chuckles). He threw the deviled eggs at the door (laughing). Deviled eggs went everywhere. I said, “now, I’m really not going.” And, I took N. [name of the dog] and went for a walk. This encounter represents several dynamics involved in Leslie’s relationship with her husband. First, this episode was a relationship-changing event for them because never before, or since, had their arguments included a physical display of anger. It was “unacceptable behavior” that both were unwilling to tolerate. According to Leslie, “it was really a breaking point for us, or, we really got through something and things have been totally different since then.” From this incident, Leslie and her husband were able to reconstruct how they handled their disagreements, no longer communicating in aggressive, confrontational ways. Second, the deviled-eggs episode also captured the way in which Leslie and her husband negotiated power and control in their relationships. To begin, any attempts at control were contained within the argument itself. According to Leslie, neither she nor her husband attempted to control the other in their day-to-day lives. Admittedly, however, they did occasionally exert control over the other during their arguments, depending upon the issue at hand. In addition, control was

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equally distributed between Leslie and her husband, and it had been stabilized over the course of their relationship. As a result, no one person dominated the other and no severe power struggles existed which caused the control to fluctuate from one party to the other.

In sum, the Violent Couple Typology accounts for eight types of couples who experience various levels and frequencies of aggression. In addition to the aggression, the couples are differentiated from one another by their use of control—namely, who owns it (ownership property), how much it fluctuates (movement property), and where it is most often enacted (location property). Communication patterns used by the individuals serve to both define the relationship type and reinforce the patterns of control contained within each type. As such, communication becomes an important vehicle for assessing the type of violent couple.

What’s Next for the Relational Control-Motivated Theory of Aggression? Now that a preliminary typology of violent couples has been inductively identified (via data from couples experiencing violence), testing its propositions (see Olson, 2004 for a formal set of propositions posed) and corresponding theoretical structure is paramount. At this point in time, support for the classification system is more than anecdotal as it is the original result of extensive qualitative data analysis. However, in an attempt to further test the theory’s formal propositions, a team of us is currently working on devising a valid and reliable measure that captures the various control dynamics of relationships. Once such a measure is created, the next step will be to test it on couples with a history of violence. The ultimate goal of this line of research is to theoretically and pragmatically identify various forms of violent couples in order to intervene appropriately. In order for relational aggression to truly be reduced, academics and mental health care providers must work together to tailor these interventions to the specific needs of the couples seeking assistance. A one-size-fits-all approach toward eradicating intimate partner violence is outdated.

Note 1. The exemplars presented here are adapted from those found in Olson (2000). The names have been changed to protect confidentiality.

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References Anglin, K., & Holtzworth-Munroe, A. (1997). Comparing the responses of maritally violent and nonviolent spouses to problematic marital and nonmarital situations: Are the skills deficits of physically aggressive husbands and wives global? Journal of Family Psychology, 11, 301. Berns, S. B., Jacobson, N. S., & Gottman, J. M. (1999). Demand/withdraw interaction patterns between different types of batterers and their spouses. Journal of Marital & Family Therapy, 25, 337–347. Cahn, D. D. (1996). Family violence from a communication perspective. In D. Cahn & S. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 1–19). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Cattaneo, L. B. (2007). Contributers to assessments of risk in intimate partner violence. How victims and professionals differ. Journal of Community Psychology, 35, 57–75. Clements, K., Holtworth-Munroe, A., Schweinle, W., & Ickes, W. (2007). Empathic accuracy of intimate partners in violent versus nonviolent relationships. Personal Relationships, 14, 369–388. Gottman, J. M., Jacobson, N. S., Rushe, R. H., Shortt, J.W., Babcok, J., La Taillade, J. J., & Waltz, J. (1995). The relationship between heart rate reactivity, emotionally aggressive behavior, and general violence in batterers. Journal of Family Psychology, 9, 227–248. Graham-Kevan, N., & Archer, J. (2003). Intimate terrorism and common couple violence: A test of Johnson’s predictions in four British samples. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 18, 1247–1270. Holtworth-Munroe, A. (2000). A typology of men who are violent toward their female partners: Making sense of the heterogeneity in husband violence. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 9, 140–143. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., & Meehan, J. (2004). Typologies of men who are maritally violent. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 19, 1369–1389. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., Meehan, J. C., Herron, K., Rehman, U., Stuart, G. (2003). Do subtypes of maritally violent men continue to differ over time? Journal of Consulting & Clinical Psychology, 71, 728. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., & Stuart, G. L. (1994) Typologies of male batterers: Three subtypes and the differences among them. Psychological Bulletin, 116, 479–497. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., Stuart, G., & Hutchinson, G. (1997). Violent versus nonviolent husbands: Differences in attachment patterns, dependency, and jealousy. Journal of Family Psychology, 11, 314–331. Jacobson, N. S., Gottman, J. M., Waltz, J., Rushe, R., Babcok, J., & HoltworthMunroe, A. (1994). Affect, verbal content, and psychophysiology in the arguments of couples with a violent husband. Journal of Consulting & Clinical Psychology, 62, 982–988.

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Johnson, M. P. (1995). Patriarchal terrorism and common couple violence: Two forms of violence against women. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57, 283–294. Johnson, M. P. (1999). Two types of violence against women in the family: Identifying patriarchal terrorism and common couple violence. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the National Council on Family Relations, Irvine, CA. Johnson, M. P. (2001). Conflict and control: Images of symmetry and asymmetry in domestic violence. In A. Booth, A. C. Crouter, & M. Clements (Eds.), Couples in conflict (pp. 95–104). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Johnson, M. P. (2003, November). Comments on Olson, Fine, and Lloyd: A dialectical approach to theorizing about violence between intimates. Paper presented at the Theory Construction and Research Methodology workshop at the annual meetings of the National Council on Family Relations, Vancouver, BC. Johnson, M. P. (2006). Conflict and control: Gender symmetry and asymmetry in domestic violence. Violence against women, 12, 1003–1018. Johnson, M. P., & Ferraro, K. J. (2000). Research on domestic violence in the 1990s: Making distinctions. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 62, 948–963. Kaukinen, C. (2004). Status compatibility, physical violence, and emotional abuse in intimate relationships. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 66, 452–471. Marshall, A. D., & Holtzworth-Munroe, A. (2002). Varying forms of husband sexual aggression: Predictors and subgroup differences. Journal of Family Psychology, 16, 286–296. Olson, L. N. (2000). Power, control, and communication: An analysis of aggressive, violent, and abusive couples. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Olson, L. N. (2002a). “As ugly and painful as it was, it was effective”: Individuals’ unique assessment of communication competence during aggressive conflict episodes. Communication Studies, 2, 171–188. Olson, L. N. (2002b). Compliance gaining strategies of individuals experiencing “common couple violence.” Qualitative Research Reports in Communication, 3, 7–14. Olson, L. N. (2002c). Exploring “common couple violence” in heterosexual romantic relationships. Western Journal of Communication, 66, 104–128. Olson, L. N. (2004). Relational control-motivated aggression: A theoreticallybased typology of intimate violence. Journal of Family Communication, 4, 209–233. Pence, E., & Paymar, M. (1993). Education groups for men who batter: The Duluth model. New York: Springer.

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Rudd, J. E., Beatty, M. J., & Burant, P. A. (1994). Battered women’s strategies as a function of argumentativeness and verbal aggression. Communication Research Reports, 11, 13–22. Sabourin, T. C., Infante, D. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1993). Verbal aggression in marriages: A comparison of violent, distressed but nonviolent, and nondistressed couples. Human Communication Research, 20, 245–267. Straus, M. A. (1979). Measuring intrafamily conflict and aggression. The Conflict Tactics Scale (CT). Journal of Marriage and the Family, 41, 75–88. Yllo, K. A. (2005). Through a feminist lens: Gender, diversity, and violence: Extending the feminist framework. In D. R. Loseke, R. J. Gelles, & M. M. Cavanaugh (Eds.), Current controversies on family violence (2nd ed., pp. 19–34). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

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3 Making Sense of Abuse Account Analyses of Male Batterers

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It is estimated that 5.3 million women annually are assaulted by their relational partner (2001, American Institute on Domestic Violence). The offenders are increasingly being arrested for their violent behavior and subsequently court ordered to batterer intervention programs (BIPs) that are designed to reduce or stop their violence. While these treatment programs vary in their approach (e.g., some are feminist, some cognitive-behavioral, and some based upon systems theory) nearly all have as a goal to educate men to recognize and accept responsibility for their abusive behavior, its impact upon others, and the need for change both cognitively and behaviorly (see, for example, Scott & Wolfe, 2003; Scott, 2004; and Silvergleid & Mankowski, 2006). To accomplish their goals, some BIPs offer individual and couple counseling, but the most common format is peer-group treatment. The BIPs also incorporate a host of techniques to change the batterer’s values, beliefs, and behaviors, with many emphasizing anger control and communication skills. Regardless of the approach, Browne (1993) maintains that there is a need to conduct comprehensive evaluations of these programs to ascertain their effectiveness as mechanisms for changing men who are violent to their partners. While BIPs are proliferating (there were 2 in 1975, 80 in 1981, over 200 in 1994, and hundreds today) (Scott & Wolfe, 2003), outcome measures to assess their effectiveness have not been consistently employed.

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Recidivism is measured through batterers’ own reports, spouses’ reports, and reports from outsiders (e.g., group facilitators, police records). While these reports deal most directly with cessation of abusive behavior, they do not necessarily indicate how the batterer’s thoughts and attitudes regarding his abuse have changed (see Villar, Orrego-Dunleavy, & Farr, 2009). In addition to measuring BIP success as stopping the abuse, it is also important to identify if, and how, the batterer’s underlying belief system or perception of reality has changed. The purpose of this study is to test a method for identifying changes in batterers’ perceptions before and after exposure to BIPs. As such, it relies upon and extends an earlier study by Stamp and Sabourin (1995), in which accounts from males enrolled in a BIP were examined. It also examines previous work on BIPs (Scott & Wolfe, 2000, 2003; Scott, 2004; Silvergleid & Mankowski, 2006), and several studies from communication scholars on victim and perpetrator accounts (Rudd, Dobos, Vogl-Bauer, & Beatty, 1997; Wood, 2004).

The Batterer’s Perspective on Abuse The abusive man tends to deny that he has a problem and place the blame for the incident on the victim when confronted with evidence (Wetzel & Ross, 1983). When forced to admit to the assault, the man will “minimize the extent of the aggression,” describing injuries that require hospitalization as a “light slap,” “a little push to get her out of the way,” or “holding her to keep her in control” (Waldo, 1987, p. 385). He often claims that it is only the first or second time something like this has ever occurred. When pressed for details about his abusive behavior, the male tends to become defensive, often denying that he has a problem and suggesting that it is the fault of the victim (Waldo, 1987). The abusive man depends on his mate so much that he stops viewing her as a separate human being with her own thoughts, feelings, and motivations (Waldo, 1987). Being arrested and tried for their abusive behavior forces abusive men to recognize that there is a problem in the relationship (Waldo, 1987). In treatment, men are shown that they are not in control of others’ behaviors and encouraged to accept responsibility for their own behavior (Waldo, 1987). Understanding issues related to control may lead to potential ways of reducing relationship violence. Holtzworth-Munroe (1992) asserts “that clinicians will need to challenge violent men’s explanations of their violence in order to help men recognize their need for help” (p. 168). If in reality the women play an active role in the abusive situation, then clinicians need to encourage women to reflect on that role including

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their misperceptions of the male as well as their underlying feelings of helplessness or powerlessness. More focus on both the explanations of their behaviors and how they represent their experience, as this study attempts to do, may help “provide access to better understanding the pathology of marital violence” (Stamp & Sabourin, 1995, p. 304). One of the primary goals of BIPs, besides reducing or eliminating abusive behaviors, is to get the abuser to take responsibility for his violent behavior. Thus, as part of the treatment, abusers are taught how to examine their intents, attitudes, and beliefs that underlie their behaviors. In the following section, I review the different approaches taken to measure the effectiveness of these programs.

Effectiveness of Treatment Programs Reducing physical violence does not necessarily “end the terror” that battered women feel (Hart, 1988) or stop “minor incidents” of violence (i.e., slapping, pushing, shoving) that still may lead to physical injury (Rosenbaum, 1988). Some programs evaluate success based upon ending severe violence, while others measure the end of threats and verbal abuse (Edleson & Tolman, 1992). Because of the expense of programs and lives at stake, it is important to find a way to determine what treatment programs work most effectively. None of the current evaluative methods stands out as highly reliable. Some of the critiques of current evaluative methods include difficulty obtaining reliable measures of recidivism, few published studies using control groups to establish a causal link between the treatment and outcomes, and a lack of uniformity across treatment programs (Palmer, Brown, & Barrera, 1992). The effectiveness of programs treating abusive men has traditionally been measured by recidivism, by comparisons of pre- and posttreatment personality test scores, and by comparisons of groups of men in treatment (Palmer et al., 1992). Recidivism rates are based on how many men return to their violent behavior after treatment. Many studies measure recidivism using men’s reports of their behavior (Deschner & McNeil, 1986). Purdy and Nickle (1981) conducted follow-up interviews 6 months after treatment with 170 males. They found that 59% reported a stop in physical abuse, and 14% reported that verbal abuse had ended. DeMaris and Jackson (1987) conducted a mail survey one year after treatment. Sixty-five percent of those completing the reports claimed that the abuse had ended. Halpern (1984) studied 70 males between 3 and 24 months after treatment. From self-report measures, they found that 85% of the treatment group reported an end in the physical abuse, while 82% of noncompleters reported the same.

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Unfortunately, evidence suggests that men tend to underreport their violent behavior (Jouriles & O’Leary, 1985; Szinovacz, 1983), while women tend to report considerably more violence (Gondolf, 1987; Jouriles & O’Leary, 1985). However, it is often difficult to obtain reports from victims (Edleson & Syers, 1989). Another option is using police reports to determine repeat offenses. Yet police data is not always made available to researchers (Palmer et al., 1992) and also tends to underreport the amount of abuse since they can only document incidents that have been reported (Edleson & Tolman, 1992). To illustrate this, one study actually found that men admitted to repeated acts of violence more often than what was indicated in police reports. Douglas and Perrin (1987) found that 80% of the men reported a stop in the abuse as compared to 85% reported in police data. Dutton (1986) also illustrates this discrepancy by comparing police reports to victim reports of cessation. With a sample of 100 subjects, it was found that from 6 months to 3 years after treatment, 84% of the victims reported an end to the abuse, while police reports indicated that the abuse ended in 96% of the relationships. Hamberger and Hastings (1986) conducted a follow-up on 71 subjects using a combination of personal reports, police reports and victim reports. They found that the abuse ended in 72% of the cases. However, police reports indicate only 47% of those who did not complete the program ended the abuse. Several researchers have studied men’s personality before and after treatment (Deschner, 1984; Hamberger & Hastings, 1988; Myers, 1986; Saunders & Hanusa, 1986). Palmer and colleagues (1992) measured depression levels and found that based on police reports recidivism rates were lower for men who initially tested high for depression. Using Gondolfs’ (1987) categorization of treatment responses—denial, behavioral change, and personal transformation—they suggested that those with high depression levels were “beyond denial” and therefore accepting some responsibility for their behavior. Hence high depression would indicate a willingness to change. In another study, levels of depression were reduced during and following treatment (Russell & Frohberg, 1995). Russell and Frohberg (1995) had both partners in an abusive situation complete the Conflict Tactics Scale (CTS) to measure the level of physical abuse and the Psychological Maltreatment of Women Scale (PMWS) to measure psychological abuse. They found a significant reduction in scores by both people in the relationship from pre- to postprogram. Edleson and colleagues (1985) studied 9 men 7 to 21 weeks after treatment using the CTS multiple baseline. Seventy-seven percent of the men reported an end to the abuse. Palmer and others (1992) found most of these studies were flawed because they contained no control group, deeming it impossible to con-

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clude that the treatment caused any of the changes in personality. The Palmer (1992) study used a control group to compare long-term outcomes of short-term treatment groups. The recidivism rates, according to police reports, were lower for those in treatment as compared to the control groups. They were unable to get a high response rate from the victims and had to depend on police reports despite their inherent flaws. Due to ethical constraints most researchers hesitate in creating a distinct control group, since this would mean a group does not receive treatment and might continue the abusive behavior. They instead form control groups from naturally occurring groups. For instance, a few studies compare men with high attendance to men with low attendance in the treatment programs (Gondolf, 1987, Hamberger & Hastings, 1988). However, attendance could be related to how motivated the men are to changing their behavior, and hence, the results are reflective of individual differences and not treatment effects (Palmer et al., 1992). Another method is to compare men who are courtreferred to treatment programs to others convicted of spousal abuse (Chen, Bersani, Myers, & Denton, 1989). This comparison is not reliable since judges are more likely to refer men who appear to be “good candidates” to treatment (Palmer et al., 1992). Again, the men in the treatment condition possess different traits prior to treatment than the control group. Another problem occurs when the follow-up is only on a small number of individuals, with the total number reached not reported (Edleson & Tolman, 1992). These results tend to be inflated since those that refused to respond or were not reached for follow-up are more likely to be abusive (DeMais & Jackson, 1987). Studies of Abusers Using Qualitative Methods Recently, a group of studies have been published that (Russell & Frohberg, 1995; Stamp & Sabourin, 1995; Scott & Wolfe, 2000; Wood, 2004; Silvergleid & Mankowski, 2006) use qualitative analysis of accounts of abusive men to understand how they perceive their abuse and/or the success of their treatment. Since a critical goal of treatment is to get the abuser to accept that he has a problem, to get him to make an adjustment in his thinking and behavior, and to change the relationship with his spouse (Waldo, 1987), then the BIP should also change the way the abuser talks about the relationship and the abuse. Qualitative measures can be used in order to avoid relying on personal accounts, police reports, and personality scores (Russell & Frohberg, 1995; Sabourin, 1995; Stamp & Sabourin, 1995, Scott & Wolfe, 2000; Wood, 2004). For example, Russell and Frohberg (1995) used Strauss and Corbin’s (1990) grounded theory method to examine responses from men who

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were contacted 3 to 8 months after treatment. This involved determining if “there was movement from the initial abusive beliefs in the central, superior and deserving self toward the beliefs in the connected, equal, and mutually engaged self” (Russell & Frohberg, 1995, p. 137). They found that the majority of men conceded to the suggestion that abusive beliefs lead to their abusive behavior, and although some changes had been made, they still had to make further changes. Of the 15, 2 continued to refuse the notion of change and still believed in their superiority over their partners. The rest described changes that had been noted by their partners also. In an earlier study by Stamp and Sabourin (l995), accounts gathered from 15 men engaged in BIPs were analyzed for attributions of self and other and accounting strategies. The rationale behind this study, as well as the current study, was to focus upon batterers’ own perceptions of reality (expressed in their accounts) to identify how they justify and reinforce their abusive behavior. As Stamp and Sabourin (1995) state, “one means to increase our understanding of why domestic violence occurs and how it remains covert is to examine abusers’ perceptions” (p. 285). Using a constant comparative method of analysis, Stamp and Sabourin (1995) discovered how attributional patterns were made, and more important for this study, because they allow us to identify degrees of responsibility for abusive behavior, how males accounted for their abuse using four different strategies: excuses, justifications, minimizations, and denial (p. 293). Borrowing from the work of Scott and Lyman (1968), excuses were defined as “accounts in which one admits the act in question is bad, wrong, or inappropriate but denies full responsibility” (p. 47). For instance, one man said “She ran up and pushed me and in the process I pushed her back, and as I pushed her, she fell down and took a nasty bump” (Stamp & Sabourin, 1995, p. 293). Through his accounting, the abuser creates distance between himself and the consequences of his actions (i.e., her falling down was the cause, not his pushing her). Justifications, “in which one accepts responsibility for the act in question but denies the pejorative quality associated with it” (Scott & Lyman, 1968, p. 48), were also common in the accounts from the Stamp and Sabourin (1995) study. In this instance, the abuse is described as innocuous and not really worthy of any attention. For example, one man said “and I smacked (at her) and I picked her up and I set her outside” (p. 294), as if she were a misbehaving pet or a pesty insect. As a version of reality, one can see how the justification allows the man to continue his abuse. Stamp and Sabourin (1995) also found that males minimized both the frequency and the severity of their abuse. The minimizing can be seen in the abusers’ language as follows: “I’ll slap her or something,” “I

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pushed her off of me,” and “I hit her and stuff” (p. 296). In describing his abusive incidents one participant corrected the interviewer and said, “Actually there was only one,” though it landed him in the BIP (p. 295). One function of minimization is to avoid culpability for any real damage and prevent the abuser from recognizing the impact of his abuse on his spouse. Similarly, denial, which was often used in the accounts, occurs when the use of violence is not even acknowledged. One man said that when the police told him that his wife said he hit her, he responded with, “Hit her? I did everything but hit her” (p. 296). Given the results of this study, it seems clear that male accounts of abuse are external reflections of their inner reality constructions. This is important to consider when planning intervention since the inner world, including thoughts, attitudes, feelings, and perceptions, can feed and reinforce abusive behavior patterns. However, unlike the abuse itself, which often has external manifestations, the inner change is more difficult to identify. Since the abuser’s language does provide clues to the inner reality, and how he remains distant from taking responsibility for his abuse, and since most BIPs recognize the need for the abuser to take responsibility for his abuse in order to create lasting change, further study of the language is warranted. While the current study is designed to build upon the findings from Stamp and Sabourin (1995), a few other studies will first be discussed to provide a comprehensive and updated view on male batterer studies. BIP Studies A recognition of the need for BIPs grew more slowly but on the heals of the proliferation of battering women shelters since 1970. As previously mentioned, “There are now hundreds of programs in the United States and Canada offering services specifically for men who batter their intimate partners” (Scott, 2004). These programs have different philosophical and political underpinnings, and accordingly, “criteria and implications of success are likely to differ according to the evaluation perspective” (Scott, p. 261). On the one hand, success defined from a feminist-based program would require changes in the system that feeds gender inequality. On the other hand, a systems-based BIP would emphasize the need for adoption of relational dynamics and patterns. Though these philosophies are perhaps academically useful, Scott and Wolfe (2000) report that “there is little evidence to support the usefulness of any of the above theories for predicting or promoting change in abusive behavior” (p. 828). To appreciate, then, from a practical viewpoint, how these BIPs are designed to create both external (behavioral) and internal (cognitive) change in the abuser, several current studies were examined.

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Scott and Wolfe (2003) tested a transtheoretical model (TTM) for predicting change in batterers. Through their work on BIPs, and the discussion of what makes for lasting change, Scott (2004) posits that “one of the most critical factors to recognize in this debate is the influence of men’s motivation/resistance to treatment and resulting attendance (p. 262). The TTM, then, was explicated as a way to classify batterers even prior to treatment. Thus, the first stage, or “pre-contemplation,” exists when the batterer does not recognize a problem or any need for change (Scott & Wolfe, 2003, p. 880). “Contemplation,” the next stage, occurs when the male acknowledges an intention to change, while “action,” the third stage, defines an individual who is actively engaging in change attempts (Scott & Wolfe, 2003, p. 880). The “maintenance” stage is where the batterers are “primarily concerned with retaining changes they have made” (p. 880). Rather than debating whether these change points represent continuous or discrete categories, Scott and Wolfe (2004) suggest that the underlying dimension to precontemplation, contemplation, action, and maintenance is the “readiness to change,” which “likely reflects a number of underlying constructs, including change motivation, efficacy, denial and openness to seeking help” (p. 880). To test this model, Scott and Wolfe (2004) examined self-report data from 119 males enrolled in a BIP. Included in their study was the variable “Responsibility for past abusive behavior” (p. 881), defined as “acknowledgment of his responsibility for his abusive behavior and the impact that behavior has had” (Scott & Wolfe, 2000, p. 832). This variable was operationalized in the 2004 study as the abuser’s degree of agreement with three statements attributing abuse to the situation, the relationship, and to himself. They also measured, pertinent to the testing of the TTM, readiness to change at 3 points in time: prior to treatment (T1), during treatment (T2), and after treatment (T3). The results showed that most change, for both readiness to change and taking responsibility for abuse, occurred between T1 and T2. Hence, the study adds a new dimension to the literature on BIPs, by recognizing the processual nature of change and taking time into account for a quasilongitudinal study. Two additional studies of BIPs have examined participants’ accounts of success in completing the programs and changing their abusive beliefs and behaviors (Scott & Wolfe, 2000; Silvergleid and Mankowski, 2006). Recognizing that there is an increase in the number of BIPs, based in part upon the “implementation of mandatory arrest policies for domestic violence,” Scott and Wolfe were interested in discovering the factors that accounted for success in males who had completed their programs (2000, p. 827). The need to understand the impact of BIPs is imperative, but

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“despite this growth in popularity, the efficacy of batterer treatment remains uncertain” (p. 879). With this in mind, Scott and Wolfe selected nine men “who were deemed by themselves, their counselors, and their partners as having been successful at changing their abusive behavior through treatment from January, l998 to July, 1999” (p. 830). Further, they conducted in-depth interviews to “elicit men’s personal stories of both how and why they made change in their abusive behavior” (p. 831). They coded the interview data to yield 20 different variables, including “responsibility for past abusive behavior.” This variable was tied with “empathy” as the most important and the most commonly cited change that resulted from the BIP. Acknowledging past abuse as an important factor in change is consistent with the goals of nearly all BIPs and also with the findings from other studies of male batterers (e.g., Stamp & Sabourin, 1995). To conclude, Scott and Wolfe (2000) state that “men who had successfully changed their abusive behavior displayed a great deal of honesty about and responsibility for their past abuse,” as well as having “the common experiences of being able to put aside denial and minimization for their abusive behavior” (p. 834). In a similar study, Silvergleid and Mankowski (2006) examined the accounts of nine men who were successful in completing their BIPs as a way to understand “what facilitates change in men who perpetrate domestic violence” and as a way to “aid the development of more effective BIPs” (p. 139). The program that they drew their participants from had the following stated as its first two goals: “a. Taking responsibility for one’s behavior and remaining accountable, b. understanding the effects of abuse” (pp. 142–43). All of the men who participated in the study cited the importance of self-awareness in their recovery from abuse. According to the authors, “They described the impact of becoming aware of the fact that they were abusive, that there was something wrong with the way they had been acting” (p. 153). As one participant stated, “If you don’t think you’ve been abusive or violent, then how can you fix it because you don’t think anything’s wrong” (p. 153). Each of the studies of successful BIP completers highlights the importance of becoming aware of and taking responsibility for their abusive behavior. Another study that considered how abusive men view their own behavior was conducted by Wood (2004). Rather than interviewing men in BIPs, Wood selected a sample of 22 males who were incarcerated as a result of their abuse. Part of the purpose of her study was to gain an understanding of abuse from the “insider’s view,” based upon the belief that “understanding violent men’s views of themselves and their actions is a necessary starting point for efforts at intervention and rehabilitation” (p. 558). To gain this understanding, Wood (2004) conducted in-depth interviews with the subjects, asking them to “think

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of a relationship in which you were violent toward a woman and tell me what happened” (p. 560). She used an “inductive analysis as informed by grounded theory” (p. 560) to identify emergent themes from the men’s stories. Of most relevance to the current study, Wood (2004) identified three categories of themes that characterized insiders’ accounts of intimate partner violence” (p. 561). These themes included justification, dissociations, and remorse. Importantly, though some of these themes reflect accounting behaviors found in studies of outsiders’ views of batterer episodes, Wood (2004) is careful to explain that from an insider’s view, these themes take on new meanings. As such, justification “includes themes that represent violence as reasonable or appropriate” (p. 561). The theme of dissociation includes expressions that “functioned to differentiate or disassociate participants from ‘real abusers’” (p. 561). Finally, remorse is described as a type of apology or regret that the participant engaged in abusive behavior. She found that justifications occurred frequently in all (22) of the accounts, dissociation occurred in many (17) accounts, and apology occurred in a bit more than half of the accounts (12). From these studies on male batterers, several findings have emerged. First, researchers agree that taking responsibility for past abusive behavior is necessary to create lasting change in the abuser. Whether looking at BIP goals, insiders’ views, or outsiders’ views, recognition and acknowledgment by the abuser are critical for success. In addition, the studies have collectively shown that using an interpretive, qualitative approach yields the kind of data that allows us to examine how the abuser perceives and constructs reality pertaining to his violence and recovery. Two of the studies in particular (Stamp & Sabourin, 1995; Wood, 2004) analyzed males’ accounting behaviors, the former applying an outsider interpretation, and the latter finding the insiders’ view.

Accounting Behavior One way to assess if the male abuser is likely to commit another violent act is to examine the way in which he accounts for his past actions. In order to understand the “meaning” of abuse, it is most illuminating to approach it from the perspective of the abusers as they reconstruct and make sense of the abusive episode. Scott and Lyman (1968) define an account as a “linguistic device employed whenever an action is subjected to evaluative inquiry” (p. 46). As described previously, Stamp and Sabourin (1995) found four accounting strategies to be prevalent in male batterers’ stories, includ-

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ing justification, minimization, denial, and excuses. These strategies vary in terms of the degree to which responsibility is denied, with denial itself as being the most extreme, followed by excuses, justifications, and minimizations. In a study of abused women’s narratives that identified how they accounted for their abuser’s violence, Rudd and others (1997) identified four common account types: refusals, excuses, justifications, and concessions (p. 50). For their study, they based definitions of these terms on Schonbach’s (1990) taxonomy, which is a refinement and expansion of the original Scott and Lyman (1968) model and McLaughlin, Cody, and O’Hair’s (1983) application of them to failure events. Accordingly, refusal includes “assertions that the failure event had never happened, or denials of involvement in the event or attributions of full responsibility to other persons, in addition to types of evasion or mystification” (Rudd et al., 1997, p. 50). Excuses are “accounts which admit the occurrence of a failure event or some involvement of the actor in it, but arguments are made in an effort to reduce causal responsibility” (p. 50). The category of justifications is where “actors accept causal responsibility for an event, but claim that it was acceptable or at least permissible under the circumstances” (p. 50). The final account type is concession, which is “admitting a violation of some expectation held by other, with an explicit or implicit statement of the actor’s full or partial responsibility for the failure event” (p. 50). Research Question The purpose of this study is to examine male batterers’ accounts as reflections of their attempts to come to terms with their failure events (i.e., abuse). The accounts are operationalized as both sense-making devices and as reflections of their growth in recognizing and owning responsibility for their abusive behavior following involvement in a BIP. To systematically analyze the content of the accounts, the study uses the taxonomy adopted by Rudd and colleagues (1997). It is believed that this version of account types best captures the depth and range of thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs about the abuse events. The major question addressed by this study is whether patterns of accounting behavior change after abusers have participated in the BIP. It is posited that such change would be indicative of change in the offenders’ own perspectives and understandings of their abuse, with concessions in particular indicating an acknowledgment of increased responsibility for abuse. The accounts were gathered through interviews to allow the abusive males latitude to describe their experiences in their own words. The study predicts that if the BIP has a positive impact (with

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respect to the goals of the BIP), the males will use fewer excuses, refusals, and justifications, and they will use more concessions in their post treatment accounts. In other words, their accounts will contain strategies that reflect ownership and accountability for abuse.

METHOD Participants A total of 104 males participated in this study. All participants were enrolled in a BIP that offers both educational and counseling services to abusive males. These participants, most of whom were court mandated for treatment, completed a twenty-hour educational/discussion group, meeting once each week for 4 weeks. The primary mission of this program was “to teach abusive males how to take responsibility for their actions; to examine and confront the values, beliefs and attitudes that contribute to violence against women; and to develop nonviolent alternatives to dealing with conflict” (AMEND Document 1, 1996). Prior to their exposure to the educational program, 62 males were interviewed and were asked to describe the episode of abuse that led to their involvement in the BIP. An additional 42 males were interviewed upon their completion of the program. These men were also asked to describe the incident that led to their involvement in the BIP. Because the participants were assigned to a number of small groups, and because the interviews were conducted by their BIP group facilitators over the course of a year, the resulting data does not allow for a matched comparison across the two samples. Instead, the data provides a general profile of pre-BIP accounting behaviors and post-BIP accounting behaviors. The data is used to draw comparisons across the two groups, rather than between specific individuals at two points in time. Participants in this study all live in a large Midwestern city in the United States and range in age from 20 to 60 years old, with a mean of 35. All participants were dating, living with, or married to the victim of the abuse. Education levels ranged from some high school to graduate school with the average participant being a high school graduate. Household income levels ranged from below $10,000 to $60,000 with a mean of $15,000 to $20,000. Procedures Participants were asked to describe the episode of abuse that led to their placement in the BIP. They were interviewed at the site of their BIP, by

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their respective group facilitator. The accounts produced during these interviews included information about the male’s perspective on why the abusive situation occurred, the nature and severity of the abuse, and other information about the relationship. Interviews lasted between 3 minutes and 20 seconds in length, to 14 minutes, and 30 seconds in length, with an average of 8 minutes and 40 seconds. Analysis After the interviews were completed, the men’s responses were transcribed and coded for account types (i.e., excuses, refusals, justifications, and concessions). Statements within the men’s turns at talk were the unit of analysis for establishing both frequency and type of account. While most turns contained only one or two accounting strategies, several contained as many as five strategies. A total of two coders were trained to classify statements made by the males in their accounts. Operational definitions for each category are based upon the studies by Stamp and Sabourin (1995) and Rudd and colleagues (1997). For the purposes of coding, concessions were identified as statements that contained acknowledgment of guilt, apologies, or offers of restitution. Excuses were coded as statements that admit failure but deny responsibility; refusals were coded as denials of guilt as well as denials that the abusive event occurred; and justifications were coded when responsibility was accepted in part but harmfulness was denied or minimized. In order to estimate the reliability of the classifications made by the two coders, intercoder agreement was calculated and found to be satisfactory (94%–99%). Results The male abusers’ accounts, as provided by the participants in this study, provided numerous examples of excuses, justifications, refusals, and concessions. As Table 3.1 shows, the total number of strategies identified within the 62 pre-BIP accounts was 111. The mean number of strategies was 1.79, with a range of 1–5 strategies per account. Within the post-BIP accounts, a total of 73 strategies emerged from the 42 accounts, with a mean of 1.73 strategies, and a range of 1–4 strategies. A summary of the percentages of the four strategy types (i.e., excuses, justifications, refusals, and concessions) identified in both BIP groups is reported in Tables 3.2 and 3.3. Excuses. Excuses are “accounts which admit the occurrence of a failure event or some involvement of the actor in it, but arguments are made in

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TABLE 3.1 Distribution of Strategies within Accounts by Participant

Distribution of Strategies Number of Strategies Used

Pretreatment Accounts

Posttreatment Accounts

1 2 3 4 5

n=31 n=18 n=9 n=3 n=1 x=1.79

n=22 n=11 n=7 n=2 x=1.73

TABLE 3.2 Accounting Strategy Types Summary Table for Pretreatment

Excuses Justifications Refusals Concessions

46.58% 23.64% 22.82% 6.96%

(52/111) (26/111) (25/111) (8/111)

TABLE 3.3 Accounting Strategy Types Summary Table for Posttreatment

Excuses Justifications Refusals Concessions

23.18% 32.60% 23.21% 21.01%

(17/73) (24/73) (17/73) (15/73)

an effort to reduce causal responsibility” (Rudd et al., 1997, p. 50). The men use excuses such as appeal to accident (i.e., “It was her fault”), appeal to defensibility (i.e., “I lost control”), appeal to biological drives (i.e., “I am a man”), and appeal to one’s own effort and concern before or during the failure event itself (i.e., “I’m the good guy”). Other forms of excuses include scapegoating (i.e., push off onto someone else), impairment/disability leading to action (i.e., drunk), and overwhelming circumstances (i.e., action as reaction to outside events). In the pretreatment group, 46.58% (52/111) of the statements used by participants were coded as excuses. In the posttreatment group,

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excuses occurred in 23.18% (17/73) of the coded statements. Thus, excuses were far more prevalent in the pretreatment group. Below are some examples of the types of excuses used during interviews. EXAMPLES: PRETREATMENT EXCUSES 1. “When I got out of the car she snatched both my kids out of my arms. So when she snatched them, I snatched her.” 2. “She just kept pushing my button, and I lost. I let my temper control me.” 3. “I guess I was in a situation where it was like a really new situation where it was like I wasn’t thinking right.” EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT EXCUSES 1. “[S]he kicked at me and being of instinct, when someone kicks at you, I grabbed her foot and pulled.” 2. “She then started choking me. Our friend pulled her hands off of me, and I was like, I got fed up at that point, I really lost my . . . kind of lost my mind.” 3. “Had some suds, and I believe that alcohol had a bit to do with it.” 4. “I was in a situation where we were driving on the road, and I was being subjected to some verbal humiliation. I couldn’t get her to stop, I was begging and pleading, and eventually I hit her, hit her right in the mouth.” 5. “You know, kind of like reflex, I just hit her in the back of the head, and she kind of passed out and whatever.” [Later] “And I think I snapped, like, I don’t know if it was before I started hitting her or just before, I just kind of lost it.” 6. “The two of us were out of control. I was out of control. And she didn’t think I was in control, I didn’t think she was in control. So we blamed each other for everything.” 7. “[S]he keeps dogging me down. Do you know what I’m saying? Putting me down all the time. I was under a lot of stress because, I mean, my job was closing down, and my car wasn’t working. I’m real stressed out, and I couldn’t, I just snapped.” 8. “I was drunk and have a little fight and misunderstanding, and I hit my woman, hit several times, and we had a beautiful fight. She hurt me.” Justification. Rudd and others (1997) define justification as an account in which “actors accept causal responsibility for an event, but claim that it was acceptable or at least permissible under the circumstances” (p. 50). For example, the male saw the victim’s behavior as justification for his use of force. Justifications are also used when one admits responsibility

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for an event but redefines its nature. For example, the serious may be defined as nonserious. The most typical justification involves retaliation to the partner’s use of violence (usually a more severe attack by the partner). Although violence was acknowledged, it was justifiable since they were only protecting themselves. Other examples of justifications include dissatisfaction with the partner/spouse (i.e., perceived inequity in terms of the male working harder or putting more into the relationship), a right to self-fulfillment (i.e., “its been a long time”), comparisons to the other’s similar misdeeds (i.e., “you do it too”), or jealously. They may also minimize the severity of offense, make appeals to one’s positive intention, make appeals to higher loyalties, conventionalize (i.e., “stating opinion” vs. “threat”), use normalization (i.e. “everyone does it”), deny injury (i.e., “nobody got hurt”), or deny the victim (i.e., “she was asking for it”). The third one is when the actor, feeling unfairly accused, may deny the failure event and/or the right of reproach. While this did not emerge as a new category, the category of justification/ redefinition was added to reflect the abuser’s minimization of the severity of the event. In the pretreatment group, 23.64% (26/111) of the coded responses were classified as justifications. In the posttreatment group, justifications were identified in 32.60% (24/73) of the coded statements. Thus, justifications were more frequent in the posttreatment group. Below are some examples of the types of justifications used during interviews: EXAMPLES: PRETREATMENT JUSTIFICATIONS 1. “So I think that is when she spit on me or whatever, but anyway I started smacking back.” “I went to grab her and try to stop her from throwing all this stuff at me.” 2. “She grabbed me. I grabbed her. She tried to choke me. I choked her, and that was it.” EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT JUSTIFICATIONS 1. “[S]he was hitting on me, and I just let her hit on me. And then she wasn’t listening to me, so I just started hitting her back.” [Later] “She’s in the kitchen, slammed down on two knives, and rushed at me with them. . . . But what I was doing was trying to prevent me from getting cut and preventing her from getting cut.” 2. “And she was pushing me and trying to drag me off the couch, so I pushed her.” 3. “[S]he took the clothes hanger and scratched me down my back with it. And I had got frustrated, and I turned around, and I struck her, and then I guess her mouth was bleeding or something.”

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4. “And I sat on the couch and controlled myself for the first part, you know, she threw my things out three separate times, and on the third time when she was going to the door I grabbed her by the back of her shirt, and I pulled her back in, so she wouldn’t throw my stuff out in the hallway.” 5. “But she kept coming, so I pushed her to keep her away from hitting me.” 6. “We got into it when she threw my son down on the bed, and that’s when I reacted verbally and pulled her off of him and pushed her up against a wall.” In some justifications, the nature of the event has been redefined so that the abuser admits to doing something that in turn leads to injury but fails to recognize that his action caused the injury. This is similar to Stamp and Sabourin’s (1995) classification of minimization. The abuser may minimize the amount (quantity) of violence in their relationship or the type of force used. Words such as punch or beat are not frequently used; less caustic euphemisms are used (i.e., “I hit her and stuff”). Qualifiers such as just and ambiguous terms such as “stuff” all minimize the violence as well. This type of justification was identified in the posttreatment cases only. Some examples are as follows: EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT JUSTIFICATIONS

WITH

MINIMIZATION

1. “She stood in front of the door, and I pushed her out of the way. She fell back, hit the wall.” 2. “[The police] saw that she had a bump on her head from her hitting the table, and they arrested me.” 3. “And when I pulled her foot she, they was course, the steps how they are made, and she hit her side and her back. And that was the main cause of everything.” 4. “I guess I just pushed a bit too hard, and she bumped against the couch, and she hit her head against the couch, and that’s when they came and got me.” Refusals. A refusal is indicated by “[a]ssertions that the failure event had never happened, or denials of involvement in the event or attributions of full responsibility to other persons, in addition to types of evasion or mystification” (Rudd et al., 1997, p. 50). In other words, the transgression is denied, guilt for the transgression is denied, or the victim is denied. In the pretreatment group, 22.82% (25/111) of the coded responses were classified as refusals. In the posttreatment group, refusals were identified in 23.21% (17/73) of the coded statements from men’s

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accounts. Thus, refusals accounted for approximately the same number of the total responses coded both pre- and posttreatment. Below are some examples of the types of refusals used during interviews: EXAMPLES: PRETREATMENT REFUSALS 1. “She lied upon me and said that I beat her up, and I don’t hit women.” 2. “So I still don’t believe I should be here.” 3. “I never hit her. I never abused her. All I did was try to back her off, restrain her, so I am not a lying person.” EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT REFUSALS 1. “[I]t wasn’t really domestic violence.” 2. “[S]he went down and told them that I hit her, which I didn’t. She’s the one who called me names, threatened me, this and that, you know.” 3. “We got into a verbal confrontation; it wasn’t physical or anything, just a verbal confrontation.” 4. “[T]hey said they took pictures that had red marks on her face. I don’t remember that.” 5. “So we was arguing. Nothing physical, just arguing.” 6. “I didn’t punch her or anything.” 7. “[W]ell she allegedly hit herself and she had a bruise on her face, saying I did it, which I didn’t touch her.” 8. “There wasn’t no bruises or nothing. There wasn’t nothing to show.” 9. “No, I never hit my wife. I’ve been married 22 years, never touched her.” Concessions. The concession is defined as “Admitting violation of some expectation held by other, with an explicit or implicit statement of the actor’s full or partial responsibility for the failure event” (Rudd et al., 1997, p. 50) Several degrees of concession were noted in the accounts. The most complete concession is one where the abuser fulfills at least two of these requirements: (1) admits to physical abuse; (2) offers an apology; (3) states his intent to change his behavior in the future. A less complete concession is one where the abuser admits to specific details of physical abuse but does not offer an apology or intent to change. At times this comes across as a “matter-of-fact” listing of events; he offers no excuses or justification of the behavior, just details. Another type of concession was found where the abuser shows remorse, but is unclear about what he is apologizing for: being in the situation to begin with, being drunk, the content of their verbal disagreement, the actual physical abuse, or being arrested.

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In the pretreatment group, concessions were identified in 6.96% (8/111) of the coded statements. As applied to the posttreatment accounts of abuse, 21.01% (15/73) of the responses were coded as concessions. Thus, concessions were far more frequent in the posttreatment accounts. The following contains examples of several types of concessions found in the abuse accounts: EXAMPLES: PRETREATMENT FULL CONCESSIONS 1. “The first one I admitted it. I was guilty, and I’ll admit to it. I felt bad for doing it.” 2. “I shouldn’t have grabbed a hold of her and pushed her down. . . . And I got mad, I should have just left.” EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT FULL CONCESSIONS 1. “I immediately was filled with guilt and shame and humiliation, and I realized right then that it was very likely that would be the end of my marriage and the end of my life as I knew it, which turned out to be true . . . I began calling local agencies to find out if there were projects or programs available for men who had engaged in domestic violence.” 2. “And there was a lot of nastiness said on both sides. And so I really am sorry about what I did. I could have said the right things. Things I know now, I didn’t know at the time . . . I guess you could call them decisions but they were reactions, I wouldn’t do now.” 3. “I totally apologized to her several times. I just, you know, I felt bad about it, and I don’t know. It was all a mistake. All it really was a mistake, all because of me.” [Describes assault] “And with that I voluntarily decided to seek counseling and a psychologist and completed Crossroads and the Amend, Phase I and II.” 4. “I wish it never did happen. If I wouldn’t have lost my temper and just got up and left when we first started arguing it wouldn’t never happen, I wouldn’t have been here, wouldn’t have been downtown. It never would have happened if I just got up and left.” EXAMPLES: POSTTREATMENT PARTIAL CONCESSIONS 1. “I walked out the door, grabbed her and tried to pull her back in the house.” 2. “And there was some swinging involved from both of us. It wasn’t just me. I didn’t control myself, and I got the better of her.” 3. “I’m not blameless in this, I pushed a lot of buttons I knew would really upset her.”

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4. “I picked her back up and we, it was like, we realized at that time what we was doing, you know what I mean? We shouldn’t be doing it, because, you know.”

Discussion This research applied a relatively unobtrusive measure, the account, to explore whether change occurred in males’ perceptions of their responsibility for abusive behavior following involvement in a BIP. It predicted that a sign of positive change would be an increase in concessions and a decrease in excuses, refusals, and justifications, following participation in the BIP. In general, the 104 accounts of abuse examined here reflect a trend toward perceiving more responsibility following treatment, as evidenced by both more concessions (which are defined as accepting responsibility) and more justifications (which admit responsibility but downplay severity). Also, the results tend to lend some tentative support for the attainment of the BIP goal to create awareness of responsibility for abusive behavior in that the males’ accounts contained fewer excuses (which deny responsibility for the abuse) following treatment. In support of the prediction that more concessions would be used after treatment, the percentage of posttreatment concessions was more than triple that of pretreatment concessions. To explain the results of the current study, a reflection on previously discussed literature is useful. This research illustrates a communication approach by focusing on communicators’ accounts to determine if change occurred in males’ perceptions of their responsibility for their abusive behavior before and after treatment. The results from this study extend upon the work of Stamp and Sabourin (1995) by elaborating upon their findings about male batterer accounting strategies. Further, it provides an illustration of how accounting behavior changes over time, specifically with respect to the abuser’s awareness of responsibility. In addition, the sample used in this study was considerably larger than the Stamp and Sabourin (1995) study, and in fact, larger than comparable studies conducted by Scott and Wolfe (2000), Silvergleid and Mankowski (2006), and Wood (2004). These studies used samples of 15 males, 9 males, 9 males, and 22 males, respectively. Unlike the previous studies, the current study did not contain the depth of information about each subject. However, by using the larger sample, this study lends some generalizability to the findings from the group of studies as a whole. Regardless, it is not known if the changes in accounts mean that change will occur in subsequent abusive behavior. Without such change,

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the BIPs have not achieved their most critical goal. Further, these results do not provide any evidence that a change in how the abuser perceives his responsibility at one point in time will persist into the future. Given that abuse is reinforced through long-standing individual and relational patterns, it is unlikely that a short-term exposure to new information from the BIP in and of itself will break the pattern of abuse. As such, the next logical step toward understanding the efficacy of BIPs would be to gather long-term data. The practicality of such data collection may prove challenging; however, the efforts are warranted. The results showed a general trend toward an increase in ownership of responsibility for abuse following treatment. In order to more fully understand how the male abusers’ understanding changed over the course of treatment, a more in-depth, contextual analysis of each account will be undertaken in future research. For this analysis, statements will be examined as part of the whole account, with the intent of discovering emergent narrative themes and metaphors.

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Schonbach, P. (1990). Account episodes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Scinovacz, M. 1983. Using couples’ data as a methodological tool: The case of marital violence. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 45, 633–643. Scott, K. L. (2004). Predictors of change among male batterers: Application of theories and review of empirical findings. Trauma, Violence, and Abuse, 5(3), 260–284. Scott, K. L., & Wolfe, D. A. (2000). Change among batterers: Examining men’s success Stories. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 15(8), 827–842. Scott, K. L., & Wolfe, D. A. (2003). Readiness to change as a predictor of outcomes in batterer treatment. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 71(5), 879–889. Scott, M. B., & Lyman, S. M. (1968). Accounts. American Psychological Review, 33, 45–62. Shields, N. M., & Hanneke, R. (1983). Attribution processes in violent relationships: Perceptions of violent husbands and their wives. Journal of Applied Social Psychology, 13, 515–527. Silvergleid, C. S., & Mankowski, E. S. (2006). How batterer intervention programs work: Participant and facilitator accounts of change. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 21(1), 139–159. Stamp, G. H., & Sabourin, T. C. (1995). Accounting for violence: An analysis of male spousal narratives. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 23, 284–307. Strauss, A., & Corbin, L. (1990). Basics of qualitative research: Grounded theory procedures and techniques. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Umberson, D., Anderson, K., Glick, J., & Shapiro, A. (1998). Domestic violence, personal control and gender. Journal of Marriage and Family, 60, 442–452. Ventura, C., Millholland, T., & Trujillo, D. (1994). Intervention for men who abuse women. Unpublished program manual, YWCA of Cincinnati, OH. Villar, M. E., Orrego-Dunleavy, V., & Farr, J. (2009). Measuring change in attitudes targeted by batterer intervention programs. In D. Cahn (Ed.), Family violence: Communication processes (pp. 73-87). Albany: State University of New York Press. Waldo, M. (1987). Also victims: Understanding and treating men arrested for spouse abuse. Journal of Counseling and Development, 65, 385–388. Wetzel, L., & Ross, M. A. (1983). Psychological and social ramifications of bartering: Observations leading to a counseling methodology for victims of domestic violence. Personnel and Guidance Journal, 61, 423–428. Wolf-Smith, L. H., & LaRossa, R. (1992). After he hits her. Family Relations, 41, 324–329.

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Wolfus, B., & Bierman, R. (1996). An evaluation of a group treatment for incarcerated male batterers. International Journal of Offender Therapy and Comparative Criminology, 40(4), 318–333. Wood, J. T. (2004). Monsters and victims: Male felons’ accounts of intimate partner violence. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 21(5), 555–576.

4 Measuring Change in Attitudes Targeted by Batterer Intervention Programs

MARIA ELENA VILLAR, VICTORIA ORREGO-DUNLEAVY, and JOAN SVALDI FARR

Batterer intervention programs (BIPs) have become a primary strategy for the prevention of intimate partner violence (IPV). BIPs are now part of virtually every jurisdiction in the United States, but research on their effectiveness is equivocal (Edleson, 1996; Gondolf, 1999; Geffner & Rosenbaum, 2001; Jackson et al., 2003). Proponents of BIP, including BIP group facilitators who have been involved in batterer treatment for decades, say that part of the problem is a lack of clarity regarding which outcomes to measure. Policy makers want to see changes in violence rates. However, this may not be the appropriate measure to evaluate an intervention that is primarily concerned with changing batterers’ attitudes and beliefs. To assess what really happens in BIP programs, there is a need to identify the attitudes and beliefs that BIP participants bring with them and how these change throughout the program. Due to their roots as a tool for accountability rather than treatment, BIPs are not grounded in behavioral or persuasion/communication theory. Rather, BIPs are primarily psychoeducational, largely based on the feminist perspective that a patriarchal ideology, which encourages men to control their partners, leads to domestic violence. This approach is known as the Duluth model (Pence & Paymar, 1993). In Florida, state-approved BIP interventions follow a model similar to the Duluth model, which focuses on resocializing men to recognize 73

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their role in the patriarchy and change their oppressive behaviors toward women. Florida has state standards indicating that the primary purpose of the program is to “hold batterers accountable, challenge their beliefs, and teach new skills that will facilitate changes in their behavior”(FL DCF, 2000, p. 5). The mandated methodology is a psychoeducational approach that “addresses abuse in both a personal and social context through gender-based expectations, beliefs, and attitudes” (p. 40). Interventions that focus on past experiences, unconscious motivations, trauma, psychopathology, or addiction as the cause of IPV are not permitted. Furthermore, communication enhancement, fair fighting, anger management, or impulse control, which lay primary causality on anger or poor impulse control, are also explicitly prohibited. Similarly, systems theory approaches that treat family violence as a mutually circular process are considered victim-blaming (FL DCF, 2000) and are also prohibited. These restrictions necessitate that BIPs be primarily educational and persuasive interventions that focus on cognitive change. The goals of Florida-accredited BIPs include changing beliefs about the causes and consequences of domestic violence; modifying attitudes and beliefs about provocation and responsibility; identifying the effects of distorted thinking on emotions and behavior; social and cultural supports for violence; and challenging stereotypical gender role expectations. A key factor is accountability or taking responsibility for violent behavior. Despite having a common, mandated methodology and content, BIPs in Florida are not “cookie-cutter” manualized interventions. Differences in facilitator training and style, group characteristics and motivations, appropriately result in a variety of approaches and areas of emphasis across individual groups. The attitudinal scale described in this chapter attempts to create a standard tool that applies to all BIP groups based on universal attitudinal goals, rather than on a specific BIP group method or style. There are several existing scales that have already operationalized some of the targeted attitudes. For example, the Attitudes Towards Women Scale (Spence & Helmreich, 1972) is used to assess sex-role attitudes about rights and responsibilities of women. Other domestic violence researchers have used the Mehrabian and Epstein Emotional Empathy Scale (1972); the Schwarzer and Jerusalem Generalized Self-Efficacy Scale (1995); the Conflict Resolution Styles Inventory-Partner (Kurdek, 1994), and/or the Thomas Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument (1974), among many others. In the process of developing a method to track attitude change in BIPS, these existing scales were considered, but facilitators and researchers ultimately rejected them. Some were not suited to the objectives of this study, since they measure reported behavior or behavioral intent—precisely what we set out not to do. Facilitators agreed that

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self-reported violent behavior would have little utility in the context of a court-mandated intervention with legal and law enforcement implications. Other measures were deemed undesirable by BIP facilitators because they are too lengthy, broad, or ambiguous, while others were too technical or would require a trained interviewer to administer. The purpose of this project was to create an evaluation tool that would measure what BIP facilitators considered to be their objectives, rather than larger, nonspecific constructs such as self-efficacy or empathy. The intent was to develop a scale that BIP facilitators were comfortable with and believed adequately represented what they were trying to achieve with their groups, namely, to influence participants’ attitudes through communication in the group.

Theoretical Factors Social Behavioral Approach to BIP A key theoretical underpinning of batterer treatment is social cognitive theory (SCT), which helps to understand how people acquire and maintain certain behavioral patterns (Bandura, 1986). Specifically, SCT has been used in psychology, public health, and violence research to design interventions for behavior change. For example, SCT predicts that people are socialized to internalize societal values and standards through interaction and communication and that these internalized values determine behavior. One of the key constructs of SCT is symbolizing, or the assumption that symbols serve as the mechanism for thought. For example, the symbol of manhood and the symbol of power are predominant themes in BIP content. The symbols of family and the future of children are also important symbols used to encourage positive attitude and behavior change. Forethought, self-reflection, and self-regulation are also key constructs of SCT. People’s beliefs or expectations about the outcomes of a behavior (more than actual outcomes), predict the likelihood that a behavior will be performed. Reflecting on past and future behavior is used in BIP to understand how certain attitudes and behavioral intentions are formed. Perpetrators of intimate partner violence frequently cite loss of control as an excuse to explain, if not justify, their violent behavior (Sabourin, 2009). In BIPs, participants are encouraged to think about expected outcomes before taking an action. Moreover, BIP facilitators encourage participants to explore their own moral standards and perceptions of self-efficacy as a way to motivate different decisions and different behavioral

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intent. Participants are led to see that they are in control of their own behavior and thus are accountable for it. These are examples of how social cognitive theory underlies the messages used in BIPs. Group facilitators use communication strategies to challenge beliefs and assumptions that influence behavioral patterns, in an attempt to change these patterns and replace them with nonviolent behavior. Thus, BIP interventions tend to see battering as the result of errors in thinking and apply cognitive restructuring strategies (Gondolf, 1991) to modify irrational or distorted attitudes and beliefs that influence the appraisal of a situation including strong emotional responses that lead to aggression (Stewart & Gabora-Roth, 2003). BIP facilitators use communication to build group cohesiveness, manage conflict, and moderate discussions, and they employ a range of persuasive and compliancegaining tactics to make participants look at themselves and their behavior in a different way. Therefore, the communication discipline has much to offer the study of violence prevention interventions. Communication Factors in BIP With few exceptions (See Cahn, 2009), intimate partner violence has received relatively little attention in the communication literature, but the foundation exists for further study. The discipline of communication has advanced the study of intimate relationships and how these relate to relational satisfaction and outcomes (e.g. Lloyd & Emery, 2000), as well as distress, conflict, power, and aggression between intimate partners (Olson, 2002; Babcock, Waltz, Jacobson, & Gottman, 1993; Richmond, McCroskey, & Roach, 1997; Holtzworth-Munroe, Smutzler, & Stuart, 1998; Feldman & Ridley, 2000). Discourse and narrative as a method to interpret, prevent, and possibly treat violence have also been explored within our discipline (Stamp & Sabourin, 1995; Rudd, Dobos, VoglBauer, & Beatty, 1997; Wood, 2001; Montalbano-Phelps, 2003). Much of the communication research on domestic violence has been done from the perspective of the victims, exploring how they perceive their victimization, why they stay in violent relationships, and how they get out of them (e.g., Gordon, Burton, & Porter, 2004; Burke, Denison, Gielen, McDonnell, & O’Campo, 2004). Research on perpetrators is lagging but growing. At the 2004 Annual Conference of the National Communication Association (NCA), Poole (2004) called attention to the moral dimension of conflict communication and the importance of promoting moral change along with skills change when intervening in any kind of conflict. This is a new focus in the treatment of batterers, which has traditionally viewed the problem from the perspective of interpersonal interactions and power. A study by Buttell (2003) measured the

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level of moral reasoning of men who had battered their intimate partner and found that batterers were using a level of moral reasoning that was two standard deviations below that of adults in general. This supports measuring changes in empathy, accountability, and moral reasoning as a possible outcome in BIP evaluations. Using communication to change how people think and behave is an audacious effort, and the link between the communication and the behavior change is often difficult to demonstrate. There are many determinants of behavior that could range from biological factors, personal trauma, substance abuse, and psychopathology to structural-environmental and cultural factors. BIP facilitators understand that one intervention is not a panacea for stopping violence and that it is unrealistic to expect that a violent person will cease to engage in violence against his or her partner after 6 months with the use of a communication intervention, without addressing the other underlying factors that contribute to violence and aggression. That is the challenge of demonstrating change among BIP participants. In this chapter we suggest the use of an attitude scale as an interim measure of program effectiveness based on the assumptions underlying BIP. With so many confounding factors, it may be most reasonable to evaluate changes in attitude before attributing changes in behavior to the intervention. Attitude Change as an Outcome Measure BIP groups work on the assumption that when certain attitudes that are theoretically associated with violence against intimate partners are changed the result will be a reduction in violent behavior. The intervention aims to change the attitudes, yet most BIP evaluations have measured the violent behaviors. Bowen and Gilchrist (2004) emphasize the importance of theory in the conceptualization of a batterer treatment program. They stress that program design must reflect valid assumptions about the nature of the target problem and present a feasible and logical approach to resolving it. “To date, few evaluations have examined the impact of treatment on the psychological characteristics that are hypothesized to be criminogenic needs (e.g., pro offending attitudes, anger, attitudes towards women, locus of control) and targeted by the programme” (Bowen & Gilchrist, 2004, p. 221). A 2001 study that considered attitudinal outcomes of a BIP found that group completion was associated with significant improvements on appraisal of social support, self-esteem, perceived stress, attitudes toward marriage and family, locus of control, and the perceived importance of affective expressions and communication (Tutty, Bidgood, Rothery, & Bidgood, 2001). A qualitative study of BIP participants who had successfully changed their behavior found that changes in acceptance of

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responsibility, self-awareness, gender attitudes, and empathy for others were the cognitive factors most responsible for the behavioral change (Gondolf & Hanneken, 1987). A recent study of attitude change among BIP participants found that after completing the program, participants reported more positive attitudes about their own abusive behavior and their beliefs about women (Schmidt et al., 2007). These findings support the premise that BIPs can change attitudes and that these changes may correlate with changes in violent behavior, but more research is needed. In addition to attitudes about violence and gender, motivation to change may be an important concept to measure, because it is a likely precursor to change. Levesque, Gelles, and Velicer (2000) found that offenders with low levels of motivation to change, as defined by the stages-ofchange (transtheoretical) model, were significantly less likely than highly motivated offenders to reduce violent behavior. In the study by Schmidt and others (2007), participants reported being more motivated to change their behavior when they became more aware of the negative effects of violence on their families. However, they still tended to attribute violence to external uncontrollable causes such as insecurity, jealousy, and alcohol and drug use. Thus, motivation to change and perceived ability to control their behavior (self-efficacy) may also be measurable outcomes. Despite the fact that BIP focuses on changing the attitudes associated with risk for violence against intimate partners, there is no generally accepted way to measure changes in these targeted attitudes. The following sections describe the development of a scale that addresses attitudes targeted in BIP. This study is part of a larger program of research that attempts to systematically analyze the attitudes and beliefs that BIP participants bring with them and how these attitudes and beliefs change throughout the treatment. The idea for a BIP-specific attitude scale came out of a request by the Miami-Dade County-based BIP program Family and Victim Services to conduct program outcome evaluation. Currently the only criterion for program completion is attendance; there are no objective standardized criteria for what constitutes “successful” completion. In a courtmandated BIP, there are legal and administrative hurdles before any kind of qualitative or quantitative measurement of success can be adopted. However, the first step is identifying a suitable outcome variable for measurement based on the goals and activities of BIP.

Development of BIP Attitude Scales In 2006, a group of Florida researchers and BIP facilitators got together to develop a new attitude measurement scale. Much of the information

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summarized up to this point in this chapter was presented to BIP facilitators to frame the deliberative process of defining focus areas for possible scales and scale items. Over 20 experienced, ethnically diverse, master’s-level therapists who work as BIP facilitators at the Miami-Dade County Family and Victim Services (FVS) participated in group interviews to give their perspectives on program evaluation needs and to provide their input on scale construction. Facilitators indicated that they usually document participants’ progress in clinical notes, which are not readily available for any kind of aggregate data analysis. They are subjective clinical assessments that would be difficult to compare across therapists without extensive training in standard coding. Furthermore, group facilitators recognize that what they, as clinicians, consider success may not be what is most relevant to law enforcement or the abused victims themselves. For example, they may identify a breakthrough in a changed attitude or deeper level of awareness such as realizing that their actions have consequences, but this is difficult to demonstrate to skeptical judges and probation officers. Equally important, facilitators may identify positive changes, but the victim could be experiencing continued violence. Facilitators agreed with previous assertions that using arrest as a measure of recidivism is not necessarily valid (Schmidt et al., 2007). They felt that tracking rearrest does not prove that there is no repeated violence; it only proves that there is no repeated arrest. While BIP evaluation studies suggest that most BIP participants are never rearrested, (Edleson & Grusznski, 1988; Gondolf, 1997) facilitators felt that this may be due to the negative experience with the criminal justice system rather than a fundamental change in attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors. Obtaining victim reports of repeated violence is difficult for both legal and ethical reasons. There are specific restrictions on communication between BIP providers and victims, and such communication may put the victim at increased risk. Given these challenges and all the factors that can confound measures of behavior, facilitators supported the idea that a measure of attitude and skill change would be the most appropriate measure of the effectiveness of their work. While all of this needs to be taken into account to assess program effectiveness, facilitators agreed that a standard tool to measure attitude change would be helpful. Scale Development Along with the input from facilitators, scale development took into account the findings and implications of current literature and existing BIP curricula. A literature and Internet search found a variety of different program descriptions that emphasized slightly different focus areas, although most overlapped with the content areas described above and required by the

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Florida Department of Children and Families. The interviewed facilitators reported working on a broad range of attitudinal goals and topics including the influence of peer and social networks, stressors related to immigration and minority status, intergenerational violence and trauma, and others. However, after analyzing the focus areas of existing curricula and BIP facilitator responses, 4 general areas or dimensions were identified as universal or present in virtually all BIP group content. These 4 dimensions are: (1) attitudes toward women; (2) attitudes toward partner conflict; (3) empathy & accountability; and (4) self-efficacy & motivation to change. The conceptual definitions of these dimensions are explained below. Attitudes toward women is one of the principal components of current BIP curricula. The theoretical underpinning of BIP is that intimate partner violence is the result of poor socialization that leads men to forcefully exert power and control over women. This was reported to be one of the primary themes of BIP. The Attitudes Toward Women (ATW) scale included 5 items: .

1. It is normal for people to have friends of the opposite sex. 2. A woman should have her own opinions even if her husband/ boyfriend disagrees with her. 3. Men should have the final say when making important decisions. People who are involved in serious relationships should not be too friendly with other people. 4. Men have a right to tell their girlfriend/wife how to spend money. 5. Problems between partners are caused when friends interfere in the relationship. Attitudes toward partner conflict refers to maladaptive attitudes, skills, and behaviors that lead to poor conflict resolution management. Although Florida standards prohibit focusing on conflict management and lack of anger control as a primary cause of domestic violence, BIP facilitators reported that these skill deficits nevertheless need to be addressed. There were 5 items in Attitudes Toward Conflict (ATC) scale: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

When I start fighting with my partner, it is difficult to stop. It is normal to scream at people when you are arguing. It is normal to call people names when you are arguing. When I get angry about something, I just ignore it. When I get angry, I take a time out before I respond.

Empathy and accountability is the batterers’ ability to understand the adverse effects of violence on the victim and to take responsibility for

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their actions. Many BIP participants initially see their situation as something beyond their control or something that happened to them, not something they caused through their own behavior. The Empathy and Accountability (E&A) scale had 7 items: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

This happened because my partner provoked me. My partner blew the situation out of proportion. This happened because I can’t control myself when I’m angry. This happened because I was drunk or high. It is my fault that this happened. It is my partner’s fault that this happened. I feel badly for hurting my partner (physically or emotionally).

Self-efficacy and motivation to change is increasingly recognized as an important factor in BIP outcome. BIP participants come into the groups with different baseline attitudes, psychopathologies, addiction issues, and levels of social support. These are likely to make a difference in their receptiveness to BIP content. One key factor is motivation to change behavior and self-efficacy, or the batterers’ belief that they can actually change their behavior. The 6 items in the Self-Efficacy/Motivation to Change (SE) scale follow: 1. I can act differently in situations like this. 2.This program can help me. 3. I can control myself when I am angry. 4. I can fight without screaming. 5. I can fight without hitting. 6. I can prevent incidents like this in the future. Once a consensus was reached as to the four key dimensions, individual items were drafted based on BIP participants’ attitudes and terminology reported by facilitators during the group interviews. Researchers and facilitators designed the initial draft of the survey, which contained 39 items. They then elicited input from a panel of experts, drafted a revised version, and distributed again for final feedback on wording. The final revised draft was pretested for readability and errors with 38 BIP participants. The instrument was pretested with the same population as the target respondents, BIP participants in Miami-Dade County. The analysis of the pretest results led to some changes in wording, order of questions, and response categories. The final revised scale was then translated into Spanish. The English and Spanish versions were used in the pilot test.

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Pilot Test Results The finalized instrument was pilot tested in 14 BIP groups (n=160). Facilitators explained that the survey was voluntary and anonymous, that responses would be used for validation of the instrument only and would not be reported to any court officials. The purpose of this pretest was not to measure change but to test the instrument for face validity and to assess the reliability of the scales, which were constructed empirically, based on facilitator input, program guidelines, and research on BIP. Participants ranged from 19 to 72 years in age and had been participating in the program between 1 and 20 weeks. The racial and ethnic composition of the sample was diverse, with 68% of the sample reporting their ethnicity as Hispanic and 30% reporting their race as black. Over half of the respondents (52.8%) were born outside of the United States, representing more than 21 different countries of origin. After reverse coding the appropriate items, the subscale scores were calculated based on the hypothesized categories: attitudes toward women, conflict resolution, empathy/accountability, and motivation/ self-efficacy. Higher scores (closer to 5) indicate less desirable attitudes, while lower scores (closer to 1) indicate more desirable attitudes. Respondents scored highest on empathy/accountability, with a mean score of 2.65. The dimension with the lowest mean score was motivation/self-efficacy (1.87). See Table 4.11 for scores on all 4 dimensions. All mean dimension scores were below the midpoint (3), indicating that attitudes among BIP participants are closer to the desirable extreme than the undesirable one. This may be due to social desirability. However, since this scale is intended to measure relative change rather than absolute change, this was not considered a problem. (Item frequencies and descriptive statistics can be found in Appendix C.) The reliability coefficients for each scale are lower than desired but not unexpected at this exploratory phase. TABLE 4.1 Subscale Descriptive Statistics

Subscales Attitudes Toward Women Conflict Resolution Self-Efficacy Accountability/Empathy * Cronbach's coefficient alpha.

Min.

Max.

Mean

StdDev

Reliability*

1 1 1 1

4.1 5 5 5

2.35 2.42 1.87 2.65

0.83 1.00 0.70 0.80

.83 .45 .52 .55

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An exploratory factor analysis was conducted to assess the extent to which the subscale items vary together according to the four hypothesized factors. The SPSS factor analysis function was used, first to extract four factors, in order to evaluate whether the items varied according to the hypothesized dimensions. Next, a factor analysis was conducted on each individual subscale to determine how many of the expected items loaded into a single factor. Items with factor loadings greater than or approaching 0.6 in the hypothesized factor were considered adequate. The scales for attitudes toward women and empathy/accountability were strong, with almost all items loading at or above 0.6. Half of the items in the self-efficacy scale loaded as expected, and the attitudes towards conflict scale performed poorly, with only one of the items loading in the expected scale. The scale reliability scores and the factor analysis indicated that the scale required further examination to identify the most appropriate measure of attitudes with the least number of questions. Next Steps and Other Considerations Using the data from this pilot test and continued consultation with BIP facilitators and other experts, the scale has been slightly modified and tested for measuring change before and after BIP participation. The purpose of describing scale items in this chapter is not to promote the use of the scale, since it is still under development. Rather, the goal is to share the theoretical and methodological process of developing and justifying the use of an attitudinal scale as an outcome measure for BIPs. Before recommending the use of a particular scale for standardized BIP evaluation, researchers and policy makers must consider several important factors. Developing a scale for a particular subgroup (such as BIP participants) provides opportunities to consider unique characteristics of the population. Social desirability is always a concern when dealing with a court-mandated population, because they may not trust assurances of confidentiality from the researchers and fear that responses may find their way to a judge ruling on their case. This should not be taken lightly for two important reasons. First, lack of trust in the confidentiality of responses will result in invalid data that will misinform decision making. Second, it is our responsibility as researchers to minimize risk for the subjects in our studies. If there is any possibility that attitudes reported in a scale could cause subjects to incriminate themselves before a court, it is our responsibility to inform them of this risk. In this case we were able to collect anonymous data through an agreement with the BIP provider agency.

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Another important consideration, particularly in an ethnically diverse location such as Miami-Dade County, is the impact of culture on attitudes toward women, violence, conflict communication, and institutions (Cai & Fink, 2002; Galanti, 2003; Vandello & Cohen, 2003; Caetano & Cunradi, 2003). In some cases, culture may be a risk factor, but it may also be a protective factor. For example, Jones (2002) reported that there are understudied culturally related protective factors such as religion, self-esteem, and family supports that serve as social controls for reducing certain types of abusive behaviors. All of this is likely to impact on preexisting attitudes, perceptions of social desirability, resistance to persuasive attempts, and persistence of attitude change. This raises interesting questions about the effect of standardized intervention programs among all ethnic groups and the need for culturally competent research that considers cultural factors in BIP outcomes. Yet another consideration is the issue of a mandated cognitive behavioral intervention as a catalyst for true attitude change versus a tool for compliance gaining. This project is part of an ongoing program of research, which includes qualitative research to assess beliefs and perceptions about what actually happens in BIP groups. Qualitative indepth interviews are being conducted to explore whether BIP is seen as a mechanism of persuasion by changing problematic attitudes or whether the mechanism of action is induced behavior change through teaching acceptable cultural norms and fear appeals based on the potential for legal consequences. The findings may have implications on the applicability of this scale which attempts to measure attitudes as the primary outcome of BIP. The scale development process and pilot study described in this chapter exemplify the need for communication research and intervention studies in applied real-world problems facing society today. A lot of faith is placed on cognitive behavioral interventions to change people’s violent behaviors, and this impacts many social systems, including the legal system and individual family systems. This experience illustrates the importance of real-world real-time collaboration between behavioral practitioners and communication researchers to shape programs and policy.

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Gondolf, E. W., & Hanneken, J. (1987). The gender warrior: Reformed batterers on abuse, treatment and change. Journal of Family Violence, 2, 177–191. Gordon, K. C., Burton, S., & Porter, L. (2004). The role of forgiveness: Predicting women in domestic violence shelters intentions to return to their partners. Journal of Family Psychology, 18, 331–338. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., Smutzler, N., & Stuart, G. L. (1998). Demand and withdraw communication among couples experiencing husband violence. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 66(5), 731–743. Jackson, S., Feder, L., Forde, D. R., Davis, R. D., Maxwell, C. D., Davis, R. C., & Taylor, B. G. (2003). Batterer intervention programs: Where do we go from here? U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, National Institute of Justice. Jones, N. G. (2002). A study of the influence of protective factors as a resource to African American males in traditional batterers’ interventions. Journal of Health and Social Policy, 16(1–2), 169–183. Kurdek, L. A. (1994). Conflict resolution styles in gay, lesbian, heterosexual nonparent, and heterosexual parent couples. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 56, 705–722. Levesque, D. A., Gelles, R. J., & Velicer, W. F. (2000). Development and validation of a stages of change measure for men in batterer treatment. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 24(2), 175–199. Lloyd, S. A., & Emery, B..C. (2000). The context and dynamics of intimate aggression against women. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 17, 513–522. Mehrabian, A., & Epstein, N. (l972). A measure of emotional empathy. Journal of Personality, 40, 525–543. Montalbano-Phelps, L. L. (2003). Discourse of survival: Building families free of unhealthy relationships. Journal of Family Communication, 3(3), 149–177. Olson, L. N. (2002). Exploring “common couple violence” in heterosexual romantic relationships. Western Journal of Communication, 66(1), 104–128. Pence, E., & Paymar, M. (1993). Education groups for men who batter: The Duluth model. New York: Springer. Poole, M. S. (November, 2004). Moving forward/looking back: The contributions of communication research to the field of peace and conflict. Panel presentation at NCA Annual Conference, Chicago, IL. Richmond, V. P., McCroskey, J. C., & Roach, K. D. (1997). Communication and decision-making styles, power base usage, and satisfaction in marital dyads. Communication Quarterly, 45(4), 410–426. Rudd, J. E., Dobos, J. A., Vogl-Bauer, S., & Beatty, M. J. (1997). Women’s narrative accounts of recent abusive episodes. Women’s Studies in Communication, 20(1), 45–58.

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Sabourin, T. C. (2009). Making sense of abuse: Account analyses of male batterers. In D. Cahn (Ed.), Family violence: Communication processes (pp. 49–72). Albany: State University of New York Press. Schmidt, M., Kolodinsky, J., Carsten, G., Schmidt, F., Larson, M., & MacLachlan, C. (2007). Short term change in attitude and motivating factors to change abusive behavior of male batterers after participating in a group intervention program based on the pro-feminist and cognitive-behavioral approach. Journal of Family Violence, 22(2), 91–100. Schwarzer, R., & Jerusalem, M. (1995). Generalized self-efficacy scale. In J. Weinman, S. Wright, & M. Johnston (Eds.), Measures in health psychology: A user’s portfolio. Causal and control beliefs (pp. 35–37). Windsor, UK: NFER-NELSON. Spence, J. T., & Helmreich, R. L. (1972). The attitudes toward women scale: An objective instrument to measure attitudes toward the rights and roles of women in contemporary society. JSAS Catalog of Selected Documents in Psychology, 2, 66. (Ms. No. 153). Stamp, G. H., & Sabourin, T. (1995). Accounting for violence: An analysis of male spousal narratives. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 23, 284–307. Stewart, L., and Gabora-Roth, N. (2003). What works in the treatment of family violence in correctional populations: Issues and directions, part I. Journal of Community Corrections (Winter), 13–18. Thomas, K. W., & Kilmann, R. H. (1974). Thomas-Kilmann conflict mode instrument. Tuxedo, NY: XICOM. Tutty, L. M., Bidgood, B. A., Rothery, M. A., & Bidgood, P. (2001). An evaluation of men’s batterer treatment groups. Research on Social Work Practice, 11(6), 645–670. Vandello, J. A., & Cohen, D. (2003). Male honor and female fidelity: Implicit cultural scripts that perpetuate domestic violence. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 84(5), 997–1010. Wood, J. T. (2001). The normalization of violence in heterosexual romantic relationships: Women’s narratives of love and violence. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 18(2), 239–261.

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5 Exploring the Communication of Men Revealing Abuse from Female Romantic Partners

JESSICA J. ECKSTEIN

Relational violence has been studied in a variety of interpersonal contexts, but spousal abuse is typically viewed from a femalevictim perspective. Indeed, the terms wife abuse, spouse abuse, and marital violence are often interchanged for the term family violence (Dutton, 2006). Women’s victimization has necessarily garnered attention in the arenas of research and intervention (Campbell et al., 2003; Walker, 2000), but far less research has been devoted to the male-victim perspective. Further, clinical application of the research on men’s victimization is virtually nonexistent, particularly in the field of communication research. The victimization of men by female partners is typically reported as a byproduct of studies examining female victims and may be ignored for a variety of reasons, including methodological and political goals (Loseke & Kurz, 2005; Morrow & Hawxhurst, 1989; Straus, 2005). With this in mind, the current chapter adds to the comparatively small body of work by exploring the area of abused men. Certainly, violence perpetrated by women may consist of a variety of behaviors. Women may be retaliating in self-defense (e.g., man hits woman, so woman hits man back). Women may also overreciprocate the violence perpetrated against them (e.g., man slaps woman, so woman stabs or shoots man). These types of violent behavior perpetrated by women are distinct from abuse solely initiated by women with intent to control or dominate their partners. It is this latter type of violence (intimate terrorism, 89

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as characterized by Johnson, 1995) that was examined in the reports of men in this chapter. Although controversial for reasons of measurement, politics, and government funding, the finding that women initiate and perpetrate partner violence as often as or more often than men has been documented in numerous studies (Katz, Washington-Kuffel, & Coblentz, 2002; Langhinrichsen-Rohling, Neidig, & Thorn, 1995 to name a few; Fiebert, 2006 provides an extensive overview of studies with similar results). This finding is not an attempt to prove outcomes of violence against men are always equal to outcomes of violence against women, but it does bring to the forefront the fact that men are indeed victims of femaleinitiated abuse. A strong connection exists between abuse victimization and negative health outcomes. Physical and psychological violence may result in diminished physical well-being (Campbell, 2002), mental health (Hines & Malley-Morrison, 2001), or both (Campbell & Lewandowski, 1997). For men abused by female partners, derogatory social consequences to their victimization may intensify negative physical and mental health outcomes. The destructive reactions men receive when disclosing their abuse and the lack of assistance from typically supportive sources may be detrimental not only to their interpersonal well-being but to their overall health as well. It thus becomes important to assess the experiences of abused men. Further examination of the characteristics surrounding the disclosure and social interactions of men abused by female partners may shed light on how to help these victims. Abusive behavior may occur as a result of escalating and/or cyclical interactions (Walker, 2000). Cahn (1996) claimed that identifiable and predictable interaction patterns underlie abusive events. Whatever the root of abuse, the communicative aspects of this phenomenon are inherently involved in its occurrence—both from a disclosure perspective (to outsiders) and from the perceptual interpretations of the abused men themselves. Published analyses of the experiences of abused men are scarce in academia, particularly within the field of communication. Nonacademic anecdotes often provide the sole outlet for these men’s voices (George, 2003). With that in mind, the study presented in this chapter sought to remedy the paucity of information by examining the communicative characteristics surrounding men’s victimization. There is evidence that intimate violence against men exists (Fiebert, 2006). Additionally, there are reasons to believe that this violence is underreported, as will be shown. Therefore, by drawing from the established theoretical backgrounds on masculinity, abuse, and stigmatized identities, the overarching goal of this research was to examine the communicative characteristics of disclosure from men abused by female, romantic partners. This chapter commences by first briefly presenting

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the history of research on this type of abuse (more thorough histories can be found by George, 2002, 2003; Migliaccio, 2001). Theoretical explanations for a lack of societal acknowledgment are also explored by revealing qualitative trends from a study of the disclosive practices of battered men. This is followed by direct application of the results to the daily, lived experiences of these men.

History and Culture Violence perpetrated by and against men and women may possess commonalities, but the historical and cultural implications of abused men may make their abuse—and perhaps the disclosure of that abuse—an entirely different issue. Abuse victims need—for psychological, physical, and emotional reasons—to be able to disclose their abuse (Levendosky et al., 2004). Thus, it is important to study the characteristics surrounding the social interactions abused men experience when disclosing the existence of their abuse and to compare those actual practices to current theories of communication stigma and disclosure. Psychological distress has been reported from men receiving emotional and physical abuse in their heterosexual dating relationships (Simonelli & Ingram, 1998). One would imagine men would want to alleviate this distress through disclosure or support-seeking behaviors. But the forces causing men to be silenced may outweigh the negative impacts of hiding the abuse. In addition to the fact that there are very few organizations to help abused men, there may be additional, culturally ingrained reasons for not seeking support. A thorough understanding of this phenomenon is informed by cultural norms, the communication barriers of masculinity and stigma, and privacy management and face considerations. One cannot ignore the fact that the violence committed by women against men in personal relationships may be historically and culturally situated (see George, 2002).

Cultural Influence The fact exists that underreporting of abuse, by both sexes, does occur (Sarantakos, 1999). Historically, men abused by their female partners were ostracized and often physically expelled from their communities (George, 2003). In Western society today, cultural justifications may still influence the disclosure practices of men abused by women. For example, men who are the victims of partner violence often view abusive behavior as expected (Margolin, 1987) and may be generally more

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reluctant to acknowledge abuse from their partners than are female victims (McNeely & Robinson-Simpson, 1987). Often, battered men are judged under the assumption that they should stay with their abusive partner (Harris & Cook, 1994). Men may thus avoid disclosing their abuse because of their commitment to marriage (Lupri, 1990), sincere apologies by their partner after the abuse, psychological dependency within the relationship (Pagelow, 1984), monetary responsibility for leaving, maintenance of child custody and protection (Eckstein, 2007; Steinmetz, 1977–78), negative responses from officials when attempting to file complaints (Langley & Levy, 1977), and disclosure of the abuse producing social embarrassment (Flynn, 1990). Abused men may excuse their aggressors, and that justification may be reinforced at a societal level, particularly when the aggressor is a woman (Lloyd & Emery, 2000). Blaming the male victim for his abuse is likely, as men are perceived as having the ability to defend themselves (Carney, Buttell, & Dutton, 2007). Men failing to uphold traditional conceptualizations of masculinity are designated to inferior positions in society; this designation may result in limited provision of support and health resources (Courtenay, 2000; Migliaccio, 2001). As a result, the reasons men do not enact communicative practices to aid in their abuse recovery must be explored.

Practical Barriers to Communication Surrounding Abuse Members of stigmatized groups, as abused men are argued to be, “develop shared understandings of the dominant view of their stigmatized status in society” based on “prior experiences” and “exposure to the dominant culture” (Major & O’Brien, 2005, p. 399). Thus, men abused by female partners may understand their victimization in terms of cultural norms of masculinity and stigma. Masculinity One factor not typically associated with abused women is the culturally ingrained aspect of masculinity, often defined by its opposite; a man is not a woman (Doyle, 1995; Kimmel, 1996). Western culture constructs masculinity as directly contrasted with femininity (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005). The historical relationship between the sexes may define current-day roles. Masculinity may be comprised of stoicism, independence, and expected dominance over others (Migliaccio, 2001). Going outside this expectation “has a more negative cultural meaning for men than it has for women—which means, in turn, that male gender-bound-

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ary-crossers are much more culturally stigmatized than female-boundary-crossers” (Bem, 1993, pp. 149–50). Conceptualized in this fashion, masculinity may enforce barriers for men seeking to disclose their abuse. If individuals who disclose to others have reported greater health, happiness, and self-esteem than individuals who did not disclose their problems (Veroff, Douvan, & Kulka, 1981), it would seem intuitive that abused men would want to gain this benefit as well. As purported by Migliaccio (2001), the three reasons men do not disclose or seek support involve (1) self-reliance, suggesting men should not request help, (2) stoicism, necessitating “suppression of a whole range of human needs, aims, feelings and forms of expression” (Kaufman, 1992, p. 37), and (3) maintaining perceptions of relational control, possibly an attempt to mask feelings of inadequacy. Certainly, a man’s perceived lack of power in an abusive situation would affect his disclosing of victimization (Sarantakos, 1999). Therefore, men are viewed as deviant and not as likely to receive support, when they venture outside the norm of selfreliant, stoic, controlling masculinity (Migliaccio, 2001). Stigma A second barrier to productive communication for men appears to be the stigma associated not only with abuse but with being an abused man in particular. Goffman (1959) proposed that humans in social settings naturally group individuals according to attributes; the patterned actions in each categorization provide a basis for social norms. As a result, stigma is contextual and relationship-specific. Stigmas do not reside in individuals but socially with others who determine stigmatized identities (Major & O’Brien, 2005). Thus, the culture in which one resides may determine one’s assignation to stigmatized groups. Intimate abuse, assuming the signs—physical and psychological—are hidden from outside others, may be an example of what Goffman (1963) identified as individual character deficit stigma or what Frable, Platt, and Hoey (1998) conceptualize as concealable stigma. Discreditable (Goffman, 1963) individuals may have the most difficulty finding similar others, due to the fact that their status is not readily observable. In their study of stigmatized identities, Frable and others (1998) found those with concealable stigmas to feel less positively about themselves and to be more depressed and anxious than both control groups with no stigma and conspicuously stigmatized groups. One way stigmatized individuals may cope with threats to their identity is to simply withdraw from potentially negative situations (Major & O’Brien, 2005). Men may therefore find it easier to maintain an abusive status quo than to deal with managing the possible rejection and negative outcomes disclosure entails for them.

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Discussions of stigmatized individuals must also include consideration of identity management. Stigmatized identities of men become especially salient when examining their disclosures. One form of stigmatized identity management of particular interest to this study was that of information management (Goffman, 1963). This aspect of identity management is salient on a communication level; information surrounding abuse may be disclosed or hidden. Questions involved in information management of stigma include, to whom and how does one disclose, and how are those communicative decisions made? Information management by stigmatized individuals sheds light on general communicative interactions. Communication scholars can benefit from this application, involving not only the tensions involved in social interactions but also the face, display, and disclosure rules surrounding communication episodes. Therefore, based on notions of information management with stigmatized identities, the following research questions were set forth: (1a) If they decide to reveal their abuse, to whom do men abused by female partners initially disclose? (1b) What factors influence these men’s initial decisions to disclose?

Privacy Management and Face Considerations Surrounding Revelations of Abuse Disclosing personal information, particularly when that information is detrimental to self, as in the case of abuse victims, has been shown to provide catharsis and may result in reception of tangible and emotional support (Cramer, 1990). In addition to information management as a tool to cope with stigma, abused men must handle a variety of communication factors including negotiating the face concerns inherent with vulnerable disclosures. Disclosure of a problem first necessitates relational trust (Steel, 1991). Victims of a traumatic experience need to simultaneously feel heard, validated, and safe. Often, however, revealing such experiences makes the discloser vulnerable (Petronio, Flores, & Hecht, 1997; Petronio, Reeder, Hecht, & Ros-Mendoza, 1996). It is a difficult tradeoff and may influence the types of strategies abused men use to communicate their victimization to others. Abused men must first consider possible negative outcomes in vulnerable or uncertain social interactions (Petronio, 2000). When given a choice, individuals often choose to disclose when they expect support and solidarity from an individual (Bishop, 1996). Disclosers’ evaluations of recipients’ personalities may be influenced by predicted reactions to the information, perceptions of trust between the recipient and discloser (Hosman & Tardy, 1980), and even

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the recipient’s mood at the time of the interaction (Barbee, 1990). As a result, both current and past relationship dynamics play a role in the interaction. Perceptions must exist that the listener is in a position to offer support; these perceptions may be formed from signals in the interaction. The management of the interaction thus becomes situationally important. Cues in the immediate scenario may influence individuals’ responses to stigmatizing situations (Major & O’Brien, 2005). It is therefore imperative to view the interaction by looking at the face concerns in disclosive episodes. A privacy management perspective (Petronio, 2002) assists in providing explanations of disclosive events. The possibility of losing face may influence the choices men make when disclosing (Berger, 1997), especially if outcomes of that disclosure have large societal implications (such as revictimization through social stigma). Initial work on boundary management involved the examination of self-disclosure patterns from children who were the victims of sexual abuse (Petronio et al., 1997; Petronio et al., 1996). The concepts applied in those studies contribute to present understandings of abusive relationships and the privacy management issues inherent therein. According to current perspectives of privacy management, individuals use varied criteria to determine access to private information. Personal boundaries are protected from intentional or unintentional invasion via these conditions (Petronio, 2002). Male victims must therefore choose specific strategies to implement when disclosing their abuse. Cutrona, Suhr, and MacFarlane (1990) noted that disclosure can involve emotional demonstrations and expressions of doubt or complaining about situational management. Exploring the circumstances surrounding abused men’s disclosures allows for identification of face concerns and privacy management issues that exist among a particular understudied population. Therefore, the following research questions were also addressed: (2a) What specific communication strategies do men report using to disclose their abuse? (2b) What are the outcomes men report receiving from initial disclosure episodes? (2c) What type of impact do the outcomes of these men’s disclosures have on their future decisions to disclose?

Methods Participants Solicitations to participate in telephone interviews were posted online in forum discussions, chat groups, and message boards devoted to topics including male abuse, family violence, and family conflict. Men were

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recruited who viewed themselves as presently in or formerly a part of an abusive, romantic relationship with a woman. As a result of this procedure, 28 men participated in interviews. They ranged in age from 28 to 58 years old, with an average age of 45.8 years old (SD = 8.72). The current relational status of the majority of men was either single (n = 15) or remarried (n = 10). Three of the men in this study were still in relationships with their abusers. All men’s relationships with their abuser—past or present—were that of marriage or extended cohabitation. The average relationship length of men no longer in relationships with their abusers was 4.41 years, ranging from 3 months to 16 years in duration (SD = 3.93). For men no longer in a relationship with their abuser, the relationship ended an average of 6.54 years prior to participation in the study (SD = 4.81). For men who were still with their abusers at the time of the interview, the average length of their relationship was going on 9 years (SD = 4.93). The majority of men had completed some level of college or specialty degree (n = 24) and worked in white-collar careers (n = 22). The characteristics of the men interviewed in this study resonated as surprisingly similar to demographics reported by men calling a domestic abuse help line tailored to men (Hines, Brown, & Dunning, 2007), which may speak to the potential ability of these narratives to capture the experiences of men similarly abused. All of the men in this sample fit characteristics of abusive relationships identified as intimate terrorism (Johnson & Leone, 2005). In other words, the relationships reported by these men were characterized by experiences of coercive control from their female partners in the form of both physical (e.g., punching, beaten with objects such as bats and kitchen pots, stabbed) and psychological abuse, often experienced in extreme forms (e.g., held at gunpoint, having children taken from them, controlled access to all financial resources). Interviews The interviews ranged from 29 minutes to 1.5 hours (M = 57.82 minutes, SD = 16.24). The interviews were conducted via telephone due to geographical constraints. To locate a sufficient sample of men willing to be interviewed concerning their abuse, it was necessary to extend the call for participants across the United States. Audiotapes were transcribed verbatim and resulted in close to 200 single-spaced pages of pure men’s talk (eliminating researcher questions and nonfluencies). Embracing a grounded theory approach including the utilization of the constant comparative method (Glaser & Strauss, 1967), data were content analyzed for category formation, fit, refit, and emergent fit (Glaser, 1978). More

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specifically, the narrative of each man was examined separately, noting emergent themes. This was followed by comparison to the data from other men’s narratives, constantly noting minor discrepancies and consistencies among the participants; from this step emerged an initial list of categories. Finally, data were rechecked after the master category list was completed to ensure consistency of themes and to find any competing explanatory categories amid the results (Miles & Huberman, 1994). The exploratory nature of this study contributed in large part to the implementation of open-coding strategies, followed by application of the theoretical perspectives through axial coding (Strauss & Corbin, 1990). This type of analysis contributes to future critical perspectives of theoretical interpretation in the results. Saturation was achieved very early in the study (by the third and fourth interviews) with common themes being repeated and no new concepts emerging (Leininger, 1994), minimizing discriminant data among men to very little, if any, as will be shown in the results. To support both the many convergent themes and the few divergent themes revealed, exemplars from the narratives are given in the results to follow. To recheck the consistency and accuracy of the men’s responses, a random portion of the men were sent their completed transcriptions and asked to notify the researcher of discrepancies in their reports. Responses from all the men in this randomized subsample confirmed the accuracy of the data as both conceptually intended and accurately recorded.

Interpretation and Discussion of Findings Although some of the men’s disclosures ultimately resulted in receiving aid for their abuse, all interactions labeled as “the first time I disclosed the abuse” were said by the men to be approached with the sole goal of “revealing” the information. Contemplating Disclosure to Whom Question 1a was asked to discover the initial source of men’s disclosure regarding their abuse. As may be expected in an atmosphere of stigmatizing relations, all of these men’s initial disclosures of their abuse were made to individuals with whom they had an established relationship, predominantly close friends and family members not residing in the abusive household. Prominently discussed were personal characteristics of the person/s to whom they disclosed. Consistent with past research (Steel, 1991), being able to identify a discloser recipient was contingent on the men’s feelings of both trust and respect for the person to whom

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they disclosed. Respect for the recipient of the disclosure was necessary in that the men felt a need to simultaneously respect any feedback, opinions, or advice they received. I was looking for somebody to tell me that I wasn’t insane, that I wasn’t a horrible person who was causing this woman to do all these terrible things to me, you know? And there was an older guy; he had been around. He’s like an elder. And I would share like different things that were going on. You know, if something was wrong. There were a couple of the older men, who we all belonged to the same labor union. And I would call them. If there became like a dilemma, I would always call them first. And see what they said. They were older, they were married, you know, I would just try to use their experiences.

In addition to respect for the listening party, perceptions of a close and satisfying relationship were perceived as necessary for disclosure. It is likely that disclosing to these individuals would occur for the men due to relationship-specific reasons (Derlega, Winstead, & Folk-Barron, 2000), as tendencies exist to disclose to those who are not only liked (Dindia, 2000) but also trusted (Petronio et al., 1996). Men’s past encounters with disclosure recipients, perceptions of their shared relationship quality, and ultimately anticipated responses may be excellent predictors of a willingness to disclose sensitive information (Greene & Serovich, 1995). In turn, and following from theories of information management of stigmatized identities (Goffman, 1963), decisions to disclose to certain individuals are accompanied by varied choices surrounding the type of communication used to reveal this private information. The men here noted that they initially considered formal organizations, such as legal or domestic violence industries, as outlets for disclosure and support due to a “respect for authority” and a “trust in the system.” However, every man (n = 20) who initially considered these formal institutions for the above reasons claimed these components were nonexistent for them after they experienced “the system,” detailed in the subsequent discussion. Contemplating If and How The second component of the first research question (1b) sought to discover factors influencing how and why men initially chose to disclose their abuse. Most of the men mentioned disclosing for the benefit of emotional release.

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You know men don’t really have a big, usually, men don’t develop these big social support mechanisms of conversationally talking about emotions, and one of ’em was a guy I work with. And it was just kinda, the question kind of, you know, I guess there’s a little pressure to get it out of you to talk to someone. One of the things I realized was that holding in when you feel slighted, and not being honest about emotions, more or less. I think that would be the worst. About not being honest with myself when something hurts emotionally. To say it hurts. And you gotta find some way of letting it out.

The advantages of self-disclosure have been established in past research. These benefits include better overall physical health and higher levels of happiness and self-esteem (Veroff et al., 1981), which may be particularly salient to stigmatized individuals (Frable et al., 1998). Additional reasons those with stigmatized identities may disclose include relational development and social control (Yep, 2000), both also previously mentioned as inherent constructs of masculinity (Migliaccio, 2001). However, when the topic of the disclosure itself deals with a relationship problem such as abuse, these factors may influence the likelihood of disclosure, due to the possibility of losing perceived relational control. When that happens, the typically researched outcomes of disclosure appear to differ for this particular group of stigmatized individuals. A key feature in literature on masculinity is that of maintaining a semblance of relational control (Migliaccio, 2001). For men in abusive relationships, the desire to disclose the problem and thus gain the previously mentioned benefits appears secondary to their primary goal of maintaining a relationship in which they have invested (Lupri, 1990). Pertinent to relational maintenance is also the existence of face concerns when dealing with outside others. Many of the men (n = 21) in this study reported concerns that individuals outside the relationship would view them as less masculine if they were unable to maintain relationships with their wives or girlfriends. Reporting desires to save face is consistent with research demonstrating relational power and interpersonal control as implicit concepts in outward demonstrations of masculinity (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005; Sarantakos, 1999). Illustrating these ideas of outsiders’ perceptions and stigmatized identities, men referenced their abusive situations: But I’m kind of an old fashioned guy. And this shouldn’t happen. And in my mind, everything that happens to the family is my fault, you know. Good or bad. You know, so it’s a real old-fashioned macho type attitude, but there it is.

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I think I didn’t speak out because we as men are supposed to take it, if that makes sense. I mean, we are supposed to be the strong ones in the world or whatever. You know, that’s, it’s either, we deserve it because we [men as a whole] caused so much abuse in the past, or you know, not something that we’d talk about.

These culturally ingrained notions of a traditionally acceptable masculine identity often stand in direct contrast to the reality of private, lived relations for these men. Having been told to “be a man,” abused men’s perceptions are of a public that has no desire to embrace deviation from that admonition. Dissimilar others are silenced and relegated to a private sphere—the precise location in which these men are demasculinized. Oppression of certain groups may be influenced by the manner in which privacy is characterized by a culture. Private relations are determined by power dynamics; this fact alone speaks to the “need to expand our thinking about power to look at the ways that the notions of equality and impartiality imparted to ‘public’ communication have marginalized and excluded many groups, perspectives and voices” (Cooks, 2000, p. 210). One man spoke of years of traumatic experiences from his wife, but then stated: The cultural background that I come from, it’s just the kind of thing where we don’t want to reveal these things to the outside world. We keep everything inside. . . . You have to be careful what you say to people. They’re gonna judge you, without even knowing them. The more you explain something, the worse it’s gonna sound.

Therefore, societal tools of control and norm maintenance appear to mandate that abused men, who deviate from norms of appropriate discourse or who make culturally induced private problems into public matters, be forced, through communicative regulation, back into the obscurity of their hidden worlds. These societal tools and the idea of masculine identity maintenance thus contribute to our understanding of the factors influencing men’s initial decisions to disclose. In conjunction with the constructs influencing disclosure, the strategies these men choose to implement if and when they do disclose may be similarly affected. Enacting Disclosing Enacting Strategies. The second research question (2a) sought to discover the communicative strategies men reported using to disclose their abuse. The abused men in this study frequently mentioned using simple

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disclosure as a tool to gauge, based on received reactions, whether to pursue support from the targeted individual or to seek help elsewhere. As one man stated, I think these things [abusive relationships] are no longer the responsibility, or at least seen as the responsibility of the individual doing them. And when I bring it up from the other side, being a male, um, people just don’t want to hear it. But I do try to mention, if as nothing else, to put my feelers out to see if it happens to other people, um, to see if there’s any empathy.

Often, incremental disclosure has been used as a communicative strategy or tool to monitor responses when disclosing sensitive information (Petronio et al., 1996). When deciding how and if to disclose, individuals have considered expected interactional outcomes and the nature of the information (i.e., taboo versus commonly discussed topics) (Petronio, 2002). The expectations associated with disclosing abuse may be influenced by men’s previous revealing experiences. It is on this past feedback to revelations of their abuse that men appear to predicate future decisions. Enacting Outcomes. Exploring the reported outcomes of these men’s initial disclosure attempts (2b), it was found that first attempts to divulge were met with a variety of responses. Men felt their disclosures were met with both supportive and denigrating reactions. Supportive reactions were characterized by the men as fulfilling the basic interpersonal expectations outlined above (i.e., relational trust and respect for the disclosure recipient). When men did disclose to family or close friends, they tended to receive support in the form of emotional understanding, advice, and assistance to leave the abusive partner. However, that support was typically offered only after the men initiated separation from their spouses themselves, and in some cases leaving one’s partner was a condition of support offered by family members. This desire to have men deal with their own relational problems speaks to the cultural expectation of keeping private realms under the domain of individuals, even when it is detrimental to those parties (Cooks, 2000). In most cases (n = 26), the reactions the men received on disclosing were not positive. As discussed earlier, blaming the male victim is likely when men are perceived to have the ability to defend themselves. As one man responded, when asked who was the first person he told about his victimization, My marriage counselor, who told me, which put the fear of God into me, “What did you do to make her hit you?” And that really made me realize that I’ve gotta be very judicious about how I approach this.

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Another man who sought support from a marriage counselor stated: What would happen is I’d go in with injuries, with bandages on, on crutches. And the counselors would say, this one time in particular, I’d gone in, when she had cut my throat. And I went in, and the counselor said, “Oh my, you must have had such a bad week!” She was talking to my wife. “Oh, [wife’s name] you must’ve had such a bad week that you would act out in this way, you know? Let’s take care of you.” What would happen is, I would talk about what would happen, and she’d be sitting in the corner crying. And then it would reverse as soon as we got out the door. I’d be the one crying, and she’d be raising hell that it was exposed. So yeah, years of counseling that did absolutely no good.

However, it should be noted that not every man had negative reactions from counselors. An exception, one man noted, Yeah, I had convinced her after she’d stabbed me that we’d go to couple counseling, so we went to couple counseling. And we were there three sessions; the third session was you know, about my wife or whatever, and about 30 minutes into it, the counselor kept telling her, “You know, you need to listen. You’re blaming everything on him. We’re here to talk about you and what you’ve done wrong.” And she [wife] basically looked at my counselor and said, “You’re a fucking quack,” and looked at me and said, “We’re leaving.”

Two sources of particularly prevalent and caustically negative reactions to these men’s disclosures were the legal system and law enforcement communities. While individuals experienced denigrating reactions from other realms (i.e., colleagues, domestic violence workers, counselors), none of them carried the authority of these two spheres. In half of all cases (n = 14), an abusive incident necessitated calling the police (and thus, disclosing what had happened). When police arrived, some of the men (n = 5), bleeding from the abuse, were detained or even arrested until the abusive woman became calm and the situation was thus “deescalated.” After the police came, she wanted to take the car, wanted to take our son. And the cops are telling her, “You can do that. You can do anything you want.” And I’m going no, no, no. And the cops are just telling me to shut up. So since the cop wasn’t going to help me out, she was determined she was gonna go. I stood in front of the driver-side door of our car and I just stood there, stood my ground. And she came right up to me, with our son in her left hand. And she began to raise her fists, punching me in the face, in the chest, kneed me in the groin.

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She started slapping, scratching, all that other kind of stuff. And the police officers just watched the entire thing. And I just took it. I didn’t lay one hand on her. The minute I got my hand up to block her third punch to my face, both cops came up out of their police unit, walked toward me with their hands on their nightsticks, looking right at me. They’re not looking at her. And so I knew that they were thinking that since I raised my hand up to block, that I was gonna retaliate. The minute I did that they were gonna approach me. So I put my hand back down, took about three steps back, and then she pushed me and I landed on my backside. And then I just walked away. And I started weeping. Right there. I just started crying. I couldn’t believe what had just taken place with those two police officers there. The cops didn’t leave until she got into the car and drove off with my son.

Such experiences were not unique to the men in this sample. Other instances of men being arrested when their wives abused them without reciprocation have been documented in previous research (Stacey, Hazelwood, & Shupe, 1994). Enacting Future Contemplation. The final component to the second research question (2c) sought to explore whether the outcomes of disclosure affected future revelation attempts. When the outcomes were supportive, consistent with research on other stigmatized groups, expectations of positive reciprocity to the disclosure served to enhance the interpersonal relationship through perceptions of increasing intimacy (Yep, 2000). Interestingly, when men viewed the person to whom they disclosed as nonresponsive or otherwise neutral (but not negative), they were unsatisfied with the encounter. These neutral interactions of disclosure attempts received the same unenthusiastic reactions from the men as did the negatively valenced, denigrating interactions. I went to my pastor, was my very first thing. What a waste of time! I mean, I went to him and explained what was going on. We were good friends. And I sat in his backyard. And it was like, oh, what should I say? It’s like when you talk to a friend and they just listen. And that’s it. You know, it was like, I talked to him several times, and it didn’t really help. But anyhow, I don’t hold that against him. Or maybe I do. Not sure. But his advice during, before, and after was relatively worthless.

It may be that this lack of responsiveness from the initially trusted party not only influenced perceptions of future disclosures but also threatened the men’s identities and sense of security in the interaction. When support, even in the form of listening, was not present, the men may have felt a

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need to hide their own needs and negative feelings from these neutral individuals, to avoid further perceptions of burdening or scaring off current members of their social network (Silver, Wortman, & Crofton, 1990). However, and in most cases (n = 20), the negative reactions received upon revealing their victimization silenced the men. Additionally, they were also less likely to pursue disclosure with other, future parties. The overwhelming majority of men (n = 27) in this sample who disclosed to the legal community, comprised of domestic violence workers, counselors, attorneys, and police enforcement, received either denial of assistance or negative behavior (i.e., derogatory comments or incarceration) in response to their disclosure. Eight men interviewed went out of their way to mention their wives’ careers, which out of the 28 couples included 3 women working in the domestic violence industry, 3 police officers, and 2 attorneys. In the interviews, members of the domestic violence community and police officers were said to overtly deny support (i.e., counseling or medical attention) to these men. As one man stated, “The cure is worse than the disease.” Denial of the existence of the problem was an outcome men received from a variety of sources—family members, attorneys, and police officers—but primarily from individuals outside a close, personal relationship with the man. It could be that societal maintenance of masculinity as a construct of power results in deviant men being accused of failure (Migliaccio, 2001). Thus, blaming abused men was also mentioned as a byproduct of disclosure to counselors or workers in the domestic violence community. Formal organizations typically considered receptive to disclosures of abuse were no longer an option for these men and appeared to influence and reinforce their decisions to hide the information, subsequently revealing their abuse only to close relational others or not at all. The outcomes of disclosure for these men were thus varied in valence and consequence to their identities and their future decisions to disclose. The men remarked that their interactions with these sources of potential support influenced later disclosure decisions to such an extent that disclosure was postponed for years, in many cases, if they revealed the information at all. Half of the men interviewed in this study said they would be extremely cautious to whom they disclosed or sought support from today. Particularly, those within the legal system or the domestic violence industry were considered “off-limits” for these men. It gave me a lot of skepticism about a lot of things. I used to respect the law and authority. I mean, being in the military for 20 years, I understand how authority works. I understand the value of respect. I understand the value of honesty. And having been exposed to a system where

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I know that I was honest and she was not, but she was given the credibility of being the honest one of the two, you can’t help but internalize that and come up with a less than positive outlook on a lot of things.

The other half of participants felt they would have no problem disclosing their abuse to anyone. However, the men’s desires to “get the information [about men being abused] out there” through formal research did not extend to their tendency to seek personal support from or disclose to the above outlets themselves. Disclosure by the men is resonant with the coping strategies implemented by individuals who feel the results of negative stereotyping or discrimination (Major & O’Brien, 2005). As with other stigmatized identities, disclosure management involves a balance of weighing stigma against lost support by failing to disclose (Cline & McKenzie, 2000). Men in abusive relationships may find it easier to maintain an abusive status quo than to deal with managing possible rejection and the negative privacy outcomes disclosure entails for them. Ultimately, men abused by female partners must manage a variety of decisions when choosing if, how, and to whom to disclose their victimization. The men in this sample reported a variety of strategies to enact disclosure. Men experienced primarily negative or denigrating outcomes associated with their disclosure to public sources and in some cases experienced positive support outcomes when disclosing to those in personal relationships. The outcomes initially experienced influenced the men’s future decisions to disclose to similar sources, or to disclose at all.

Application and Future Concerns The “more difficult the problem, the less important the surface representation and the more important it is to understand the underlying principles” (Shapiro, 2002, p. 493). The findings presented here paint a picture of behind-the-scenes interactions, the underlying communicative principles, of abused men’s disclosures and demonstrate important practical implications. For example, knowing the experiences other men have encountered when revealing their abuse can inform abuse victims’ decisions about whether to disclose and to whom, serving personal privacy-protection functions. The results reported in this chapter provide theoretically based, exploratory evidence of the phenomenon of abused men, often accounted solely through nonacademic anecdotes. The findings presented here lend credence to the notion that men who are abused by their female partners may encounter unique barriers when communicating their experiences to others. The challenges these men face suggest

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that the otherwise theoretical issues of stigmatized identity, hegemonic masculinity, and communicative disclosure strategy have very real implications for these men. Although generalizability is limited, the descriptive nature of this research design allows for greater depth of information on individual experiences and may be an important first step in research of this kind. Additionally, the recruitment procedures involved in this study involved their own set of limitations. Posting the call for participants online limits those without access to a computer and additionally selects those men who have typically already sought out a type of support online through their chosen forum. However, because this study does not attempt to generalize beyond the findings, the results remain important and intriguing. Men who lack knowledge about their situation have only cultural views to inform their identity constructions. “Culture affects the way women and men understand domestic violence and its ramifications; thus, it is important to explore how cultural nuances may influence how women and men . . . determine norms and values” in their relationships, especially in cases of abuse (Few & Rosen, 2005, p. 268). This research is exploratory in nature and sets a foundation for further complex questions to emerge from the findings. For example, the characteristics of effective support providers for stigmatized individuals, and abused men in particular, will need to be investigated further, as certain types of support have been regarded as more desirable from some providers than others (Taylor, Falke, Shoptaw, & Lichtman, 1986). Such findings also contribute to the design of support interventions, particularly for stigmatized individuals. As in the case of other stigmatized identities (e.g., HIV-infected, Yep, 2000), careful research on the factors affecting the disclosures of abused men may provide specific advice to be implemented in counseling for these victims. Additionally, this research provides valuable insights for clinicians working with abused men or couples where an abused man has yet to be identified and/or validated. Sensitivity to face concerns and implementation of a privacy management perspective (i.e., through concepts such as ‘incremental disclosure’) may assist counselors in dealing with men reporting, or not explicitly reporting, abuse. Observed in regard to abused women, “the conflation of privacy and publicity” in abusive experiences “complicates the decision to disclose and conditions the ways in which abuse is conceptualized” (Dieckmann, 2000, p. 286). Merely disseminating research on this phenomenon may help remedy the lack of credible, scholarly information on men’s abuse so that communication scholars can participate in changing individuals’ perceptions of this type of victimization—in both academic research and, in turn, popular literature. The information obtained contributes to an understanding of the

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diversity of abuse victims with the ultimate goal of lessening the stigma associated with men who seek support for female-initiated abuse, benefiting both the participants and others like them. It “may be possible to draw on the cohesive power that stigma apparently generates” to spur recruitment for both future research and for men seeking support (Davison, Pennebaker, & Dickerson, 2000, p. 216). Until we discover more clearly what abused men encounter when they seek support, and what they view as helpful in a support context, we cannot begin to offer help to these individuals, nor can we be absolutely certain that our current theories of disclosure apply to this particular population. The research presented in this chapter provides initial efforts in that direction.

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Kimmel, M. (1996). Manhood in America. New York: Free Press. Langhinrichsen-Rohling, J., Neidig, P., & Thorn, G. (1995). Violent marriages: Gender differences in levels of current violence and past abuse. Journal of Family Violence, 10, 159–176. Langley, R., & Levy, R. C. (1977). Wife-beating: The silent crisis. New York: Dutton. Leininger, M. (1994). Evaluation criteria and critique of qualitative research studies. In J. M. Morse (Ed.), Critical issues in qualitative research methods (pp. 95–115). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Levendosky, A. A., Bogat, G. A., Theran, S. A., Trotter, J. S., von Eye, A., & Davidson, W. S. (2004). The social networks of women experiencing domestic violence. American Journal of Community Psychology, 34, 95–109. Lloyd, S. A., & Emery, B. C. (2000). The context and dynamics of intimate aggression against women. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 17, 503–521. Loseke, D. R., & Kurz, D. (2005). Men’s violence toward women is a serious social problem. In D. R. Loseke, R. J. Gelles, & M. M. Cavanaugh (Eds.), Current controversies in family violence (2nd ed.) (pp. 79–95). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lupri, E. (1990). Hidden in the home: The dialectics of conjugal violence—the case Canada. Kolner Zeitschrift fur Soziologie und Sozialpsychologie, 42, 479–501. Major, B., & O’Brien, L. T. (2005). The social psychology of stigma. Annual Review of Psychology, 56, 393–421. Margolin, G. (1987). The multiple forms of aggressiveness between marital partners: How do we identify them? Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 13, 77–84. McNeely, R. L., & Robinson-Simpson, G. (1987). The truth about domestic violence: A falsely framed issue. Social Work, 32, 485–490. Migliaccio, T. A. (2001). Marginalizing the battered male. The Journal of Men’s Studies, 9, 205–226. Miles, M. B., & Huberman, A. M. (1994). Qualitative data analysis: An expanded sourcebook (2nd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Morrow, S. L., & Hawxhurst, D. M. (1989). Lesbian partner abuse: Implications for therapists. Journal of Counselling and Development, 68, 58–62. Pagelow, M. D. (1984). Family violence. New York: Praeger. Petronio, S. (2000). The boundaries of privacy: Praxis of everyday life. In S. Petronio (Ed.), Balancing the secrets of private disclosures (pp. 37–49). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum.

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Petronio, S. (2002). Boundaries of privacy: Dialectics of disclosure. Albany: State University of New York Press. Petronio, S., Flores, L. A., & Hecht, M. L. (1997). Locating the voice of logic: Disclosure discourse of sexual abuse. Western Journal of Communication, 61, 101–113. Petronio, S., Reeder, H. M., Hecht, M. L., & Ros-Mendoza, T. M. (1996). Disclosure of sexual abuse by children and adolescents. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 24, 181–199. Sarantakos, S. (1999). Husband abuse: Fact or fiction? Australian Journal of Social Issues, 34, 231–252. Shapiro, M. A. (2002). Generalizability in communication research. Human Communication Research, 28, 491–500. Silver, R. C., Wortman, C. B., & Crofton, C. (1990). The role of coping in support provision: The self-presentational dilemma of victims of life crises. In B. R. Sarason, I. G. Sarason, & G. R. Pierce (Eds.), Social support: An interactional view (pp. 397–426). New York: Wiley. Simonelli, C. J., & Ingram, K. M. (1998). Psychological distress among men experiencing physical and emotional abuse in heterosexual dating relationships. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, December, 667–681. Stacey, W. A., Hazelwood, L., & Shupe, A. (1994). The violent couple. Westport, CT: Praeger. Steel, J. L. (1991). Interpersonal correlates of trust and self-disclosure. Psychological Reports, 68, 1319–1320. Steinmetz, S. K. (1977–78). The battered husband syndrome. Victimology: An International Journal, 2, 499–509. Strauss, A., & Corbin, J. (1990). Basics of qualitative research: Grounded theory procedures and techniques. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Straus, M. A. (2005). Women’s violence toward men is a serious social problem. In D. R. Loseke, R. J. Gelles, & M. M. Cavanaugh (Eds.), Current controversies in family violence (2nd ed.) (pp. 55–77). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Taylor, S. E., Falke, R. L., Shoptaw, S. J., & Lichtman, R. R. (1986). Social support, support groups, and the cancer patient. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 54, 608–615. Veroff, J., Douvan, E., & Kulka, R. A. (1981). The inner American: A self-portrait from 1957 to 1976. New York: Basic Books. Walker, L. E. A. (2000). The battered woman syndrome (2nd ed.). New York: Springer. Yep, G. A. (2000). Disclosure of HIV infection in interpersonal relationships: A communication boundary management approach. In S. Petronio (Ed.), Balancing the secrets of private disclosures (pp. 83–96). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum.

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6 Seeing Family Violence Differently Shifting Perspectives from Social Scientific to Rhetorical

SUZANNE M. ENCK-WANZER

Historically, the problem of “domestic violence” has crystallized as a social ill that pits men against women and government/policy against private interests. Questions over whether such abuses should be considered a family problem, feminist issue, or crime against the state have divided those who, presumably, want to help victims. To be sure, communication scholars stand uniquely poised to provide a variety of perspectives on how to understand intimate violence and, in turn, ameliorate harmful relationships. As is clearly expounded upon in other chapters of this collection, communication research from a social science perspective (e.g., interpersonal communication, family communication, and group/conflict communication) has been building slowly since the mid-1980s. For example, as Cahn (2009) reviews the literature on family/domestic violence from a communication perspective, he finds that there have been 65 studies (qualitative, quantitative, and position papers) printed since 1986 in communication journals and books edited by communication scholars. As Cahn concludes, three trends tended to dominate communication approaches to the study of family violence during the past 20 years—“communicator personality trait approach” (e.g., Infante & Wigley, 1986; Infante, Chandler, & Rudd, 1989; Beatty, Zelley, Dobos, & Rudd, 1994), “communication cognition approach” (e.g., Cloven & Roloff, 1993; Wilson & Whipple, 2001; Stamp & Sabourin, 113

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1995), and “communication interaction approach” (e.g., Harris, Gergen, & Lannamann, 1986; Spitzberg, Canary, & Cupach, 1994; Olson, 2002). Though this review leaves out analyses from a rhetorical perspective, it is consistent in scope with others writing about family/domestic violence from a social scientific communication perspective. To social scientists especially, Cahn’s review is likely helpful in both breadth and scope. Specifically, his review is instructive in at least two important ways. First, Cahn provides a baseline analysis and collection of studies that take, primarily, social scientific approaches to communication research (e.g., surveys, interviews, quantitative analyses). Second, and most pertinent to my contribution to this project, his overview of articles studying “family/domestic violence from a communication perspective” performs a particular articulation of what it means to study domestic violence from a communication perspective. The range of research pinpointed by Cahn (and [re]circulated in most of the essays reviewed) takes as a starting point the quest to “solve” intimate abuse at the microunit of individuals, couples, and families. Although many of these articles acknowledge that partner violence is embedded in and affected by broader systems of power and privilege, the guiding assumption seems to be that social hierarchies and broader systems of injustice can be circumvented via better communication skills. Specifically, this research subsumes domestic violence (power and control of one partner by another) under the more generalized umbrella term of family violence (conflating it with a range of interpersonal relationships). It is this nearly exclusive focus on individual behaviors that most concerns me. Without doubt, improved communication competency is a laudable goal and one that likely improves most interpersonal relationships. What I want to suggest in this chapter though is that studies taking as their unit of analysis the individual/couple/family with a focus on skills/aptitudes/cognitions run the risk of reproducing the very mechanisms of power and control that already nurture a broader public culture that is (perhaps unwittingly) complicit with violence against women and children. In 1979, Dobash and Dobash articulated at least one significant problem with approaching battery as a family dysfunction in that it sends a clear message regarding pathology and treatment to victims: victims must cure themselves (or at least seek a cure!). Social scientific perspectives, like all perspectives identifying communicative deficiencies, work within what Kenneth Burke would call “terministic screens.” Terministic screens are the terms or vocabulary we use as a result of our occupations (broadly considered), which constitute a kind of screen that directs our attention to particular aspects of reality rather than others. In particular, Burke (1978) suggests, “Even if any given terminology is a reflection of reality, by its very nature as a termi-

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nology it must be a selection of reality; and to this extent it must function also as a deflection of reality” (p. 45). Attentiveness to the rhetorical dimensions of family violence, paying particular attention to distinctions between “family violence” and “domestic violence”—a distinction that seems to be currently deflected by social science perspectives—can, I contend, help flesh out a fuller understanding of “domestic violence from a communication perspective.” In positioning this project within the realm of rhetoric, I follow the lead of scholars like Greene (1998) and Charland (1987) who argue for a critical attitude that appreciates the constitutive function of rhetoric. Approached from this attitude, Greene argues that “representational logics of speech are conceptualized less as a curtain to be pulled back in order to reveal a more primordial reality, but as a form of reality that ‘brings forth’ a subject in both political and aesthetic senses” (p. 24; see also Black, 1970). This power to name, define, legitimize, and call into reality cannot be overstated; as Wood (1992) suggests, “naming is perhaps the fundamental symbolic act” (p. 352). Or, as Spender (1990) emphasizes, “[l]anguage itself is not neutral. It is not merely a vehicle which carries ideas. It is itself a shaper of ideas, it is the programme for mental activity” (p. 103). Thus, a rhetorical perspective on violence takes as its object of analysis the circulation of public discourse about “domestic violence,” seeking to explain how metaphors, tropes, and narratives function socially to enable and constrain public understandings and (re)actions. Such a perspective seeks to reveal underlying psychological (what Burke would call “motives”), cultural, and social factors at work behind messages, in this case, abusive ones. I do not mean to suggest that rhetorical and social scientific perspectives are necessarily at odds with each other or even that each perspective can so cleanly be parsed out into distinctive methodological approaches (i.e., there is no singular rhetorical or social scientific perspective). What can come into focus when the terministic screen is shifted from the microlevel of individual/couple/family to the macrolevel of U.S. public culture is an appreciation for the ways in which accounts of violence (including the very questions we ask as researchers) are framed by and within a range of cultural texts that represent intimate abuse. So powerful is the constitutive function of competing (and complementary) textual fragments that research from any perspective is enabled and constrained by the “realities” created in the shared meanings of these texts. Complicating simplified notions of domestic violence as necessitating (and being limited to) private and discrete instances of physical/verbal assaults, a fuller appreciation of this problem requires a frame capable of recognizing more fully, for example, emotional and sexual violations, economic oppression, the abuse of male privilege, and the effects of narrow policy-making and

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activist efforts. Furthermore, this shift needs to take as meaningful questions of terminology as they serve to frame all subsequent (and retrospective) considerations of the problem. Toward this end, I address three research questions as they relate to studying domestic violence from a communication perspective. As I hope to make clear in the pages that follow, the focus of this chapter is recovering more robust frameworks of analysis vis-à-vis intimate gendered abuse.1 First, in what ways do the terministic screens informing social scientific approaches to domestic violence skew research results and restrict the range of possible responses to domestic violence as a social problem? Second, in what ways can a rhetorical perspective reveal the role(s) of systematic power and control that buttress a cultural complicity in intimate violence? And finally, how might communication researchers incorporate broader critical rhetorical insights into their approaches to researching intimate violence?

How a Social Science Perspective Frames Domestic Violence The charge of thinking about domestic violence from a communication perspective sounds deceptively straightforward. Given that “communication” is defined by Cahn and Lloyd (1996), in the preface to their book, Family Violence from a Communication Perspective, as a “tool partners use to create, perpetuate, and redefine their relationship,” any operational definition of family violence from a communication perspective would seem to involve the study of discretely measurable (or reportable) acts of aggression (p. viii). Indeed, in surveying much of the literature cited by Cahn (2009), quantitative and qualitative studies alike seek to demonstrate how breakdowns in (often already poor) communication skills exhibit themselves and, in turn, can be used to explain and prevent abuse within the familial unit. What becomes immediately clear in surveying this research is that scholars, attempting to locate the “missing link” of healthy relationships, overly narrow the field by emphasizing trait attributes and purporting to measure aggressive behaviors in discrete units (either episodes, acts, or cognitions). The trait studied most frequently by communication scholars tends to be operationalized as “verbal aggression” (e.g., Chandler, 1986; Deturck, 1987; Goldstein & Rosenbaum, 1985; Infante et al., 1989; Straus & Gelles, 1986). Based largely on Bandura’s (1973) influential conclusion that humans resort to physical force when they lack the requisite social skills necessary to communicate effectively their needs, many scholars of intimate violence examine verbal aggression as a poor social skill and precursor to more significant violence (typically physical

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breeches). Infante and Wigley (1986) define “verbal aggression,” quite basically, as an attack on a person’s self-concept. Normally differentiated from “argumentation” or “argumentativeness,” most who attempt to identify this trait suggest quite convincingly that individuals with low conflict management skills are most likely to resort to attacks on their partner’s self-concept. Posited in negative correlation to argumentative skills and feelings of confidence in disputes, verbal aggressiveness has been studied as both a form of abuse and precursor to physical violence that cuts across sex lines, deployed by men and women alike. It is no doubt the case that individuals who exhibit poor communication and conflict skills mirror broader societal challenges in effectively communicating their needs and anxieties. However, to extend that such traits are at the foundation of violence within intimate relationships is to deflect substantial research offered by disciplines ranging from sociology and psychology to legal studies (in particular feminist jurisprudence) and political theory. Olson (2004) suggests quite appropriately that an attentiveness to aggression and control as traits positions these behaviors “as unitary phenomena, experienced in the same way by all violent couples” (p. 210). Though such a conclusion might be, in itself, too sweeping of all who pursue trait research agendas, Olson cites Johnson’s (1995) distinction between “intimate terrorism” and “situational couple violence” as a helpful clarification of one central argument I want to make here: Traitbased communication research deflects the power dynamics at play that make Johnson’s situational couple violence, or episodic violence (ranging from verbal aggressiveness to physical assaults), qualitatively different from domestic violence (intimate terrorism) as a system of power and control embedded within broader social structures of hierarchical difference (see also Johnson, 2003; Johnson & Leone, 2005). I return to this type of differentiation below; but for the time being, I mark this distinction as helpful in illustrating the shortcomings of studying violent or aggressive traits as discrete and measurable, as devoid of institutional support. Taken to its logical conclusion, a focus on individual traits, especially when condensed to communicative skills/competencies, offers a framework that identifies key moments or episodic violence that, if erased from the relationship, ought to leave behind a partnership devoid of abuse. While many of the researchers surveyed in Cahn’s chapter may well assume a probabilistic relationship between traits and actions, this is not always clear. In fact, when alternate causalities or correlative possibilities (e.g., legal systems and class structures) are not explored in the literature, we stand to lose the probabilistic tenor of such research. As is suggested throughout this chapter, a broader concern with the relationship between communication and structures/discourses of power could help scholars avoid such inferences.

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Such an expectation, according to Whitchurch and Pace (1993), is shortsighted because, as they insist, any studies that would lead us to “intervening in violent spouses’ skills without attending to the relational, patterned aspects of their marriage is limited in its potential for long-term change” (p. 97). Or, to put this differently, we offer no real hope for ending widespread cycles of domestic violence unless we demonstrate an appreciation for the complicating factors of intimate relationships that might make simply behaving well and communicating competently not enough. Certainly, I could be accused of overstating the findings of trait analyses; but given the potential for practitioners and others working in domestic violence prevention/treatment to use our insights, we must be ever vigilant to caution against such interpretations. Whitchurch and Pace (1993) point also to the problematic conflation of communication behaviors (measured in skills) and psychological constructs (measured in predispositions). While I would not want to draw too bright of a dividing line between what is communication and what is psychology, Whitchurch and Pace highlight a secondary shortcoming of this type of terministic screen—chiefly, that trait analyses tend to ignore (or at least significantly reduce) the relational dynamics of the individuals involved. Their answer to this problem is the introduction of the “transactional perspective on interspousal violence” that takes as its unit of analysis the intimate (marital) couple by researching violence in a broader context of the multiple and overlapping aspects of violent intimate relationships (p. 97). Their work does draw into conversation the necessity of being attentive to relational context; however, the unit of measure continues to be the microcosm of the individual relationship. This continued focus on discrete and measurable units of space, time, and people further entrenches social scientific models into a paradigm that necessarily deflects broader socioeconomic-politicalmaterial culture, which lies beyond the scope of such analyses. To better understand the stakes involved in assuming domestic violence can be measured in discrete events or actions, a turn to the Domestic Abuse Intervention Project in Duluth, Minnesota (also referred to as the “Duluth project”), might be helpful. Created by victims’ advocates and survivors of abusive relationships together, the now widely distributed wheel of power and control depicts the range of hostilities often inflicted upon women by abusive partners (See Figure 6.1). Specifically, according to its creators, this model “illustrates that violence is part of a pattern of behaviors rather than isolated incidents of abuse or cyclical explosions of pent-up anger, frustration, or painful feelings” (Pence & Paymar, 1993). Physical assaults, if present at all, only have communicative meaning when taken into consideration viz-à-viz the broader sociopolitical system that makes physical abuse of one adult by another a viable (and highly efficient!) mechanism for control.

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FIGURE 6.1 Wheel of Power and Control

IOLENCE

V AL C I USING COERCION YS AND THREATS PH

Making and/or carrying out threats to do something to hurt her • threatening to leave her, to commit suicide, to report her to welUSING fare • making her ECONOMIC drop charges • makABUSE ing her do illegal Preventing her from getting things. or keeping a job • making her ask for money • giving her an allowance • taking her money • not letting her know about or have access to family income.

USING MALE PRIVILEGE Treating her like a servant • making all the big decisions • acting like the “master of the castle” • being the one to define men’s and women’s roles.

Making her afraid by using looks, actions, gestures • smashing things • destroying her property • abusing pets • displaying weapons.

USING EMOTIONAL ABUSE

POWER AND CONTROL

USING CHILDREN

Making her feel guilty about the children • using the children to relay messages • using visitation to harass her • threatening to take the children away.

PH YS ICA L

USING INTIMIDATION

SE XU AL

MINIMIZING, DENYING AND BLAMING

Putting her down • making her feel bad about herself • calling her names • making her think she’s crazy • playing mind games • humiliating her • making her feel guilty

USING ISOLATION Controlling what she does, who she sees and talks to, what she reads, where she goes • limiting her outside involvement • using jealousy to justify actions.

Making light of the abuse and not taking her concerns about it seriously • saying the abuse didn’t happen • shifting responsibility for abusive behavior • saying she caused it.

VIOLENCE

L UA X SE

Source: Minnesota Program Development, Inc.

When understood within broader cycles of privilege, apologies, stagnation, threats, and assaults, linear models of conflict and trait management fall short of accounting adequately for such a messy system of power and control. Additionally, if we situate these cycles within the immanent social structures that support such threats and acts of abuse, it becomes clear that linear models are not equipped to take into account the interconnected matrices of emotion, reason, and material oppression that mark most experiences of intimate abuse. In the end, it is not just an issue of resisting specific behaviors of aggression but also of understanding the

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broader matrix of relationships that empower (indeed, naturalize) such behaviors and attitudes as acceptable and normal. Duluth’s wheel of power and control illustrates an important distinction between the myriad behaviors that might coalesce to support relationships marked by domestic violence. This model, though relevant in certain ways to other familial relationships, speaks specifically to violence within intimate, heterosexual relationships. Whereas the focus of this book is on family violence, communication scholars quite often use the term interchangeably with domestic violence. Though I address the histories of these two terms more fully later in this chapter, Johnson’s (1995) previously mentioned distinction between intimate terrorism and situational couple violence becomes salient here. Intimate terrorism is one metaphor deployed by activists and scholars alike to draw attention to the extreme suffering from abuse and unrelenting, internalized sense of fear associated with being the victim of domination. Part of what lends this terminology weight is that it points to the lack of individual sovereignty that too frequently marks the experiences of women within families in the U.S. context. Situational couple violence, on the flipside, assumes relatively autonomous and equal partners involved in the relationship. Though situational couple violence may exist for some couples/families, this framework of analysis cannot adequately attend to the broader system(s) of power and control that underlie essential mental, psychological, and emotional aspects of domestic violence. In the case of domestic violence, it is only by illuminating the fundamental inequalities that fall along lines of identity (e.g., gender, sex, sexuality) that we might grasp the crux of what renders intimate abuse so effective.

A Methodological Shift As indicated previously, the point of departure from others in this collection is based on a different appreciation of the term communication. Just as I would not presume that there is one methodological approach to social scientific research, there is similarly no monolithic rhetorical methodology. As suggested above, rhetorical projects span a wide breadth of examining metaphors, tropes, figures of speech, visual imagery, social movements, arguments, and bodies as both claim and evidence. What connects such research methodologically is attentiveness to the symbolic foundations of communication and the suasive nature of human discourse, widely conceived. In surveying the social scientific communication research of domestic violence from the past decade, there seems to be a commonly held presumption that language and gestures can be measured in a more-or-

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less instrumental fashion. Obviously, as we are able to coexist in a world with other people, there is a level of assumed communicative transparency necessary in day-to-day living. “[T]he ultimate origins of language [and in turn, thought],” Burke notes, “seem to me as mysterious as the origins of the universe itself. . . . But once an animal comes into being . . . the various tribal idioms are unquestionably developed by their use as instruments in the tribe’s way of living” (1978, p. 44). Where I would challenge research seeking to interpret behaviors and/or statements as being equated with ‘domestic violence,’ or even ‘family violence,’ is in the implicit presumption that we can extract abusive moments from a fuller social context. While, for example, a social scientific approach might assume that interviewing individuals about their experiences of abuse can render reliable conclusions regarding domestic violence, what I want to suggest is that such research is limited inevitably by bracketing, in intentional and unintentional ways, the broader systems of meaning within which individuals are always already embedded before even beginning to interpret their own experiences. At the very least, a rhetorical perspective would be ever mindful that naming, defining, and questioning are all, at their core, interpretive acts. In any given moment of naming the problem or identifying the communicative acts to study, we (society broadly and, to be sure, as communication scholars) employ judgment regarding what counts and what gets counted. If, as McKerrow (1989) insists, “Naming is the central symbolic act of a nominalist rhetoric” (p. 105), a rhetorical perspective reminds us to be aware of the discursive nature of our own research. This is not to suggest that social scientific scholars pick at random their terms; but terminology (given its sheer consistency across social science scholarship) seems to be taken for granted in the literature. These implications go beyond concerns of validity or reliability, but as our research and hermeneutics are bound by the vocabularies imagined within our public culture, the conclusions we draw are equally embedded in systems of symbols that affect both victims and abusers. Ivie (1993) suggests, Knowledge constructed from a rhetorical perspective is about the symbols that organize our lives, some of which empower one gender more than another, while others selectively privilege war over peace, white over black, freedom over tyranny, etc. How these symbols construct communicable contents with significant consequences for the way we conduct our lives is the essence of our discipline’s interest. (no page)

Thus, in examining domestic violence from a communication perspective, the language and symbols we use to engage our research have implications

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that go far beyond the immediate conclusions of a given study. Certainly, any number of terminologies might be called into question—domestic violence, family violence, intimate abuse, gendered violence, wife battery, and partner abuse. Similarly, from a rhetorical perspective, we might analyze visual evidence as well (e.g., photos of bruised faces, cinematic portrayals of violence, educational diagrams). Depending on the scope of a study, different terminologies and imagery would likely stand at the core and demand various degrees of scrutiny. Regardless of parameters or immediate purpose, terminologies and terministic screens matter, and we ought to be more explicit in marking choices in our scholarship. There are a variety of communication scholars publishing on issues of violence from a rhetorical perspective (most of which, given Cahn’s understanding of “communication,” are lacking from his review). In particular, a number of scholars who analyze texts dealing with rape in U.S. public culture offer strong models of research of gendered violence more generally. Those analyses take as their site of investigation news coverage of famous rape trials and legal decisions (e.g., Bevacqua, 2000; Cuklanz, 1995; Picart, 2003) and representations of rape in popular cultural texts such as television and movies (e.g., Cuklanz, 2000; Horeck, 2004; Projansky, 2001). More particularly, Meyers (1994, 1997, 2004) studies newspaper stories about domestic violence from a rhetorical vantage. Demonstrating with great attention to detail and clarity, Meyers analyzes underlying assumptions about race, class, and gender as they relate to systems of power and control invested strongly in maintaining cohesion of the familial unit. What does shifting our perspective toward a rhetorical sensibility get us? First and foremost, I would suggest that it helps to encourage us all to move away from using terminologies as if they were interchangeable; most directly in line with my research is the broader social tendency to fall back on uneasy (or perhaps far too easy) slippage between ‘family violence’ and ‘domestic violence.’ Second, this perspective demands that we question what sorts of evidence stand in as support for distinct arguments and different argument fields (e.g., law, medicine, popular culture). Third, a rhetorical perspective offers lenses for examining the linkages cementing together various cultural narratives of abuse (what Ivie calls our “rhetorical architecture”) that provide a scaffolding upon which we build other arguments, assumptions, and conclusions.

Avoiding Reproducing a World of Gendered Violence as Researchers With these three suggestions in hand—separating out our terminologies, analyzing the types and thresholds of evidence necessary in (often over-

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lapping) argument fields, and scrutinizing the broader rhetorical architecture supporting our sociocultural frameworks for understanding intimate abuse—I want to move forward to think through the implications of this paradigm shift. To begin, the question of the prevalence and prevention of abuse is an empirical one but one that depends largely on political and social definition. In a legal sense, according to the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges, “domestic violence,” for example, is meant to refer to one or more of the following acts by a family or household member, but does not include acts of self-defense: (a) Attempting to cause or causing physical harm to another family or household member; (b) Placing a family or household member in fear of physical harm; or (c) Causing a family or household member to engage involuntarily in sexual activity by force, threat of force, or duress. (Barnes, 1998, p. 1)

When described as a matter of juridical interest, the focus remains on the act (or threat) of physical assault between individuals connected through familial bonds—to be sure, this is where most previously identified communication researchers seek to contribute. And I would suggest, given the cyclical nature of narratives, definitions such as this one inform equally popular and scholarly perceptions of the problem. Many scholars and activists who work closely with victims of abuse define “domestic violence” more specifically in line with the Duluth model as “any behavior that is intended to control and subjugate another human being through the use of fear, humiliation, and verbal or physical assaults. . . . It is the systematic persecution of one partner by another” (Berry, 1995, p. 1). Loseke (1992) follows this up by insisting that domestic violence ought to be understood as a “phenomenon crossing all demographic lines which involves men as offenders who intend to do harm and women as victims who do not create their victimization” (p. 16). This shift to view domestic violence as involving men, doing harm to women, is one that draws a critical eye toward the broader system of gender/sex inequities that make possible the likelihood of such intimate abuse in the first place. These definitions also trouble the presumed equality between two otherwise consenting adults. Though this definition is markedly heteronormative, Loseke’s insistence that we understand ‘domestic violence’ as “an evaluative, not a behavioral term” is compelling (1992, p. 16). In other words, rather than understanding ‘domestic violence’ as being measurable in instances of abuse (verbal aggression or physical abuse), a deeper understanding of gendered systems of power and control is necessary to help to elucidate the reality that for some who live in abusive relationships, overt

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aggression or assaults might appear to be quite minimal. Further, Loseke’s definition reminds us of Johnson’s point (and a point that ought to be of interest to those who are social scientifically inclined): even if we take out of the equation much of what ought to be understood more broadly as domestic violence or intimate terrorism, there continues to be individuals with equally poor conflict skills and high levels of aggression. In these cases, research and suggestions for improving these relationships might be productive. But, in these cases, we are not necessarily talking about the cycle of power and control that the Duluth model identifies as “domestic violence.” In attempting to better comprehend ‘domestic violence’ as an evaluative term, what can be attended to are the constructions of domestic violence that invite narrow caricatures of victims and abusers and, consequently, prescribe codes of “appropriate” responses confined primarily to the private realms of naïve conflict mediation or labeling individuals (abusers and victims alike) as pathological. It is the cultural production of understanding that takes place between the margins of identifying the public phenomena of domestic violence and rendering it a vocabulary of singular, isolated events (and the accompanying social implications of this move) that would be fruitful venues for research from a communication perspective. A widening of perspectives regarding what “counts” as (and gets “counted” as) domestic violence is important on a variety of levels. Certainly, as Schneider (2004) argues, “contested sources of knowledge about battering highlight the deeply political nature of descriptive stakes” (p. 27). When thinking through these stakes in describing and labeling domestic violence, I take seriously the question of terminology. Schneider suggests that the initial shift from the term ‘wife abuse’ to ‘domestic violence’ in the 1970s represented a moment of social paradigm shifting as it was meant to highlight a larger system of violence against women—violence that superseded (and did not even necessitate) specific acts of physical abuse. Additionally, taking the focus from the/a “wife” (a universalizing heteronormative subject position) to the “domestic” space was intended initially to problematize the “private sphere” of the home, thought by many feminist theorists to represent an enormous barrier to women’s parity in the public sphere and equality in the confines of intimate relationships (see also Ashcraft, 2000; Schechter, 1982). Furthermore, although a similar moment of linguistic invention was evident with the introduction of ‘family violence’ into the social lexicon in the 1980s, this shift signified a move to highlight the ways in which multiple forms of violence within families functioned as manifestations of hierarchical power and control (e.g., against wives, children, or aging

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parents). Unfortunately, such shifts in terminology did little to challenge meaningfully the cultural understandings of disproportionate power relations and, significantly, undercut critiques of widespread misogyny implicit in an attentiveness to gender. I would suggest that much of the social scientific research, with its emphasis on family violence (e.g., incest, elderly abuse, child abuse, as well as intimate partners) dilutes the rhetorical power of ‘domestic violence’ as a term with a distinct lineage of usage, deployment, and attentiveness to gender disparities. Certainly, the power of ‘family violence’ as a site of investigation is in the ironic disjuncture between the words family and violence. Burke would suggest that such a perspective by incongruity, wherein the terminology we use encourages a mental stretching to place concepts together, is useful in jarring the human conscience. Conjoining terms ‘family violence’ into one concept highlights the disjuncture between what we expect from families within a U.S. public culture and where we expect to locate violence. While some might insist that ‘family violence’ is useful in that it allows us to encompass violence between different family member relationships (e.g., siblings, parent-child, husband-wife), I would contend that what the term offers by way of generalization, it loses vis-à-vis specificity regarding widespread gendered disparities. Hedge (1996) critiques quite forcefully, for example, the “typical societal response to wife battering [which] has been to downplay its gravity by naming it as a family problem” (p. 307). “This apolitical naming,” continues Hedge, “has had serious repercussions for women’s safety and overall disempowerment” (p. 307; see also Pagelow, 1981) The disjunction of pairing ‘violence’ and ‘family’ reinforces problematic expectations of family as a social construction that limits women more than it does men. Also, this move equates victims in a way that especially damaging to women’s autonomy (e.g., positioning women as children). Although the term ‘family’ is often romanticized in U.S. public culture as being a key site for nurturance and compassion, the history of this concept does not bear out this nostalgia. Grounding one side of the Western investment in the nuclear family is a Rousseau-inspired ideal of paternalistic men wanting only to care for their families and expecting in return a supportive home environment. This model is based theoretically in essentialized assumptions of what is natural for women (i.e., the need to have and care for children) and natural for men (i.e., to be nurtured by women). Okin argues that such fantasies of tranquil family life traditionally posit familial balance upon the fulcrum of strict gender divisions; if women refuse to be full-time mothers and caregivers under this logic, men would refuse fatherhood because they would no longer receive what they expect from the family and, in turn, have no commitment to it (1989, p. 35).

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Pointing to “family” as the idealized unit in need of cleansing relies on expectations that families be rooted in some deep and abiding sense of affection and loyalty, ignoring the hierarchical foundations of the Western family. Built upon unequal relationships, the family unit is rife with potential for abusing power; but what is rarely seen in using the term ‘family violence,’ is the fact that the hierarchies themselves enact a sort of psychological violence that, in turn, makes other forms of abuse all the more likely and perpetual. In taking as the naturalized starting point “the family,” social science scholarship has little hope to escape this bind. Importantly, if we are attempting to untangle intimate abuse from a communication perspective, we ought to acknowledge overlapping systems of power that enable violence (e.g., gender, age, ability) in ways that are often complementary but by no means identical. So, while it may be “easy” to imagine how parents might wield unequal power over their children or adults might abuse their vulnerable, elderly parents, it becomes more difficult to see the underlying disparities between men and women. Thus, with regard to abuse between intimate partners, one aspect of partner violence that must always remain centered is the question of how we theorize human agency. Research that focuses on aggressive traits, violent behaviors, and poor communicative coping skills (See, for example, Olson & Braithwaite, 2004) seems to assume problematically a social equality between men and women that can be fixed via better instrumental skills. As researchers, we must be vigilant in not assuming that all adults are treated equally—especially when those adults are cast socially as “partners.” Within a deeply gendered public culture, studying violence between intimates ought to take at its foundation a skepticism of the familial unit as a site likely to perpetuate hierarchical divisions of labor, affection, and responsibilities. As Meyers (1997) points out, the language used by those who are thought to be “neutral” or uninvested works alongside hegemonic culture in reinforcing particular notions of how the world (does and ought to) work. So, for example, when positioned as equal disputants, social scientific studies suggest equal abilities to quash abusive actions or restrict personal behaviors that might “provoke” a violent response. Similarly, if we look to the broader rhetorical architecture of our society, we find an investment in certain narrative forms that reinforce such gendered notions. As Meyers (1997) finds in examining news accounts of abuse, written often in passive sentence structures, depictions of the violent scenes most often discuss abuse that “has happened” and assaults that “women experienced.” This neutral, passive starting approach explains rather than judges, suggests two sides rather than disparity. A shift in emphasis might bring more sharply into focus the fact that communication aptitudes and conflict skills do not develop in neu-

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tral environments and cannot be cleanly studied in definitive episodes of abuse or tranquility. This shift acknowledges discourse as being capable of either exacerbating victimization or helping to bridge the human divide; thus, an analysis of domestic violence from a rhetorical perspective needs to emphasize the attitudinizing of symbolic discourse—the realities created for those who seek understanding through paradigms of discourse.

Recommendations for Communication Researchers For researchers more inclined toward social scientific perspectives on researching intimate violence from a communication perspective, what I have offered here might seem unsatisfying in terms of the “so now what?” factor. There are a number of recommendations that emerge from thinking of this research from a rhetorical perspective that bear mentioning here. First, and perhaps most obviously, researchers of all methodological persuasions need to recognize more acutely the power of their language choices to constitute meaning and have consequences. Seeking a way to theorize our scholarship as a critical practice, McKerrow (1987) posits that scholars are performers and, as performers, recognition of scholarship as a rhetoric in its own right is important to challenging cultures of domination. If, as McKerrow demands, critics ought to see scholarship as contributing to the rhetorical cultures in which we live, I would propose that this call applies especially to those of us studying something as thorny and threatening (literally, life threatening) as gendered violence. If the power to name violence, as suggested above, is the power to define the terrain of speculation and to always attitudinize in some direction, then this is a power we ought to wield with extreme care. Ashcraft, studying this very question of terminologies of domestic violence, suggests measured “experimentation” with linguistic options (2000, p. 9). Ashcraft explicitly offers four terms—domestic dodging, domestic distortion, domestic neglect, and domestic domination—that provide an added level of specificity and nuance to her discussions of intimate abuse. While I am not necessarily wedded to these specific terms, her impulse for stretching our vocabulary options, for using language in such a way so as to call attention to the disjuncture between the ‘domestic’ and the ‘violence,’ is what I would encourage in future research. A second recommendation comes also at the level of situating and framing our research. As I indicated earlier, emphases on the individualized, localized instances of abuse as the unit of analysis blurs wider intersecting matrices of power. In fact, focusing solely on the communication

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skills or transactions of discrete couples (or even broader family units) runs the risk of assuming that all abuse is created equal, that all transactions or skills can be better learned and thus improved upon. To illustrate this point, take, for example, research seeking to study verbal aggression. As noted above, such research presently conceptualizes this term as an “attack on the self-concept of another, . . . used when skills for dealing constructively with social conflict are lacking” (Infante, Sabourin, Rudd, & Shannon, 1990; Infante & Rancer, 1982). Understanding verbal aggression as being rooted in a lack of “social conflict skills,” renders domestic violence as emerging primarily from a relationship marred by poor communication skills rather than a context always already fraught with systemic inequality. Given this sort of trait/behavior definition, both men and women are equally likely to engage in verbal aggression (in fact, most studies demonstrate a relative equal likelihood) and, by extension, engage in domestic violence. Such slippage is dangerous as it has the potential to relegate all abusive instances as equal. I would counter that while women certainly engage in violent acts, behaviors, and cognitions, such instances are not buttressed by a broader matrix of power and control at the social level that would be necessary to embolden a cycle of power and control rendering a partner immobile. Although such instances of aggression are surely unfavorable and ought to be addressed, instances of abuse are not the equivalent of domestic violence. Similarly, there are just as certainly instances of men who assault (or otherwise denigrate women) and cases of “mutual battery” that would not fit the broader matrix of “power and control” discussed throughout. The recommendation, then, is to recognize that part of the power of our research is the power to define what we take to be indicators (necessary or not) of broader social problems (e.g., domestic violence). Especially in light of the slippage between ‘domestic violence’ and ‘family violence,’ when we say we are researching “family violence from a communication perspective,” we run the risk of others (scholars and lay people alike) using our conclusions in such a way so as to undermine broader sociological connections to power and identity. Finally, on the topic of power and identity, there remains one recommendation that warrants attentiveness by all who research and respond to domestic violence. Throughout this chapter, I attempted to mark instances where my presumptions were based in a heterosexual context. Indeed, in all of the social scientific communication research surveyed by Cahn (2009), the base unit of analysis is the heterosexual couple (primarily the marital couple). Though the heterosexual context holds particular power dynamics unique to opposite-sex partners (e.g., the (ab)use of male societal privilege, a higher likelihood of having chil-

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dren to use in threats), there are power dynamics that mark just as vigorously same-sex couplings. Threats of “outing,” fear of homophobic police and justice systems, and pervasive shame regarding an already scrutinized sexuality are just a few of the added dimensions in studying domestic violence in homosexual relationships. Similarly, power dynamics related to race, ethnicity, ability, and class all function in ways that are too complex to address here but also too important to ignore in communication research generally. This chapter is meant to provide an opening into a broader conversation. While recognizing the value of social scientific research for assisting, for example, individuals with poor esteem and communication skills, such research has seemingly few resources to analyze the broader public culture in which individuals, couples, and families are embedded. Embodying a richer appreciation for rhetorical perspectives in all communication research would help scholars ensure that we are cognizant of the power of our terminologies and research questions. Ultimately, in addition to improving the human condition at the microlevel of couples and families, we might rightly imagine our role as attempting to reduce reliance on the very rhetorical architecture that supports the hierarchies currently in place to support familial violence in all of its iterations. In the end, both perspectives are needed if we are to continue trying to understand family/domestic/intimate violence from a communication perspective.

Note 1. The use of the term gendered here illustrates an attempt to be more inclusive of queer partnerships as reports of same-sex intimate abuse are increasingly on the rise. Although both partners may identify as the same sex, gendered relationships intersect in myriad fashions, often not aligning easily with constructions of sex and sexuality.

References Ashcraft, C. (2000). Naming knowledge: A language for reconstructing domestic violence and systemic gender inequity. Women & Language, 23(1), 3–11. Bandura, A. (1973). Aggression: A social learning analysis. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Barnes, P. G. (Ed.). (1998). Domestic violence: From a private matter to a federal offense. New York: Garland.

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Beatty, M. J., Zelley, J. R., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1994). Fathers’ trait verbal aggressiveness and argumentativeness as predictors of adult sons’ perceptions of fathers’ sarcasm, criticism, and verbal aggressiveness. Communication Quarterly, 42(4), 407–415. Berry, D. B. (1995). The domestic violence sourcebook. Los Angeles: Lowell House. Bevacqua, M. (2000). Rape on the public agenda. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Black, E. (1970). The second persona. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 56(2), 109–119. Burke, K. (1978). Language as symbolic action: Essays on life, literature, and method. Berkeley: University of California Press. Cahn, D. D. (2009). An evolving communication perspective on family violence. In D. Cahn (Ed.), Family Violence: Communication Processes (pp. 1–24). Albany: State University of New York Press. Cahn, D. & Lloyd, S. (Eds.). (1996). Family violence from a communication perspective. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Chandler, T. (1986). A profile of interaction in acute battering incidents. Doctoral dissertation, Purdue University, 1986. Dissertation Abstracts International, 47. Charland, M. (1987). Constitutive rhetoric: The case of the peuple quebecois. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 73(2), 133–150. Cloven, D. H., & Roloff, M. E. (1993). The chilling effect of aggressive potential on the expression of complaints in intimate relationships. Communication Monographs, 60(3), 199–219. Cuklanz, L. M. (1995). Rape on trial: How the mass media construct legal reform and social change. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Cuklanz, L. M. (2000). Rape on prime time: Television, masculinity, and sexual violence. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Deturck, R. J. (1987). When communication fails: Physical aggression as compliance-gaining strategy. Communication Monographs, 54(1), 106–112. Dobash, R. E., & Dobash, R. (1979). Violence against women. New York: Free Press. Goldstein, D., & Rosenbaum, A. (1985). An evaluation of self-esteem of maritally violent men. Family Relations, 34(3), 425–428. Greene, R. W. (1998). The aesthetic turn and the rhetorical perspective on argumentation. Argumentation and Advocacy, 35(1), 19–29. Harris, L., Gergen, K. J., & Lannamann, J. W. (1986). Aggression rituals. Communication Monographs, 53(3), 252–265. Hegde, R. S. (1996). Narratives of silence: Rethinking gender, agency, and power from the communication experiences of battered women in South India. Communication Studies, 47(4), 303–317.

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Horeck, T. (2004). Public rape: Representations of violation in fiction and film. London: Routledge. Infante, D. A., & Rancer, A. S. (1982). A conceptualization and measure of argumentativeness. Journal of Personality Assessment, 46(1), 72–80. Infante, D. A., & Wigley, C. J. (1986). Verbal aggressiveness: An interpersonal model and measure. Communication Monographs, 53(1), 61–69. Infante, D. A., Chandler, T., & Rudd, J. (1989). Test of an argumentative skill deficiency model on interspousal violence. Communication Monographs, 56(2), 163–177. Infante, D. A., Sabourin, T. C., Rudd, J. E., & Shannon, E. A. (1990). Verbal aggression in violent and nonviolent marital disputes. Communication Quarterly, 38(4), 361–371. Ivie, R. L. (1993). Where are we headed? Quarterly Journal of Speech, 79(4). Johnson, M. P. (1995). Patriarchal terrorism and common couple violence: Two forms of violence against women. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 57(2), 283–294. Johnson, M. P. (2003). Intimate terrorism and common couple violence. Journal of Interpersonal Violence, 18(11), 1247–1270. Johnson, M. P., and Leone, J. M. (2005). The differential effects of intimate terrorism and situational couple violence. Journal of Family Issues, 26(3), 322–349. Loseke, D. R. (1992). The battered woman and shelters: The social construction of wife abuse. New York: State University of New York Press. McKerrow, R. E. (1989). Critical rhetoric: Theory and praxis. Communication Monographs, 56(2), 91–111. Meyers, M. (1994). News of battering. Journal of Communication, 44(2), 47–63. Meyers, M. (1997). News coverage of violence against women: Engendering blame. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Meyers, M. (2004). African American women and violence: Gender, race, and class in the news. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 21(2), 95–118. Okin, S. M. (1989). Justice, gender, and the family. New York: Basic Books. Olson, L. N. (2002). Exploring “common couple violence” in heterosexual romantic relationships. Western Journal of Communication, 66(1), 104–128. Olson, L. N. (2004). The role of voice in the (re)construction of a battered woman’s identity: An autoethnography of one woman’s experiences of abuse. Women’s Studies in Communication, 27(1), 1–33. Olson, L. N., & Braithwaite, D. O. (2004). “If you hit me again, I’ll hit you back”: Conflict management strategies of individuals experiencing aggression during conflicts. Communication Studies, 55(2), 271–285.

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Pagelow, M. D. (1981). Woman-battering: Victims and their experience. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Pence, E., & Paymar, M. (1993). Domestic violence information manual: The Duluth domestic abuse intervention project. Springer Publishing Co., Inc. [accessed July 24 2003]. Available from http://www.eurowrc.org/05.education/education_en/12.edu_en.htm#1.1. Picart, C. J. K. (2003). Rhetorically reconfiguring victimhood and agency: The violence against women act’s civil rights clause. Rhetoric and Public Affairs, 6(1), 87–126. Projansky, S. (2001). Watching rape: Film and television in postfeminist culture. New York: New York University Press. Schechter, S. (1982). Women and male violence: The visions and struggles of the battered women’s movement. Boston: South End. Schneider, E. M. (2000). Battered women and feminist lawmaking. New Haven: Yale University Press. Spender, D. (1990). Excerpts from man made language. In D. Cameron (Ed.), The feminist critique of language (pp. 102–110). London: Routledge. Spitzberg, B. H., Canary, D., & Cupach, W. R. (1994). A competence-based approach to the study of interpersonal conflict. In D. D. Cahn (Ed.), Conflict in personal relationships (pp. 183–202). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Stamp, G. H., & Sabourin, T. C. (1995). Accounting for violence: An analysis of male spousal abuse narratives. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 23(4), 284–307. Straus, M. A., & Gelles, R. J. (1986). Societal change and change in family violence from 1975 to 1985 as revealed in two national surveys. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 48, 465–479. Straus, M., Gelles, R., & Steinmetz, S. (1977). Behind closed doors: Violence in the American family. New York: Anchor Books. Whitchurch, G., & Pace, J. L. (1993). Communication skills training and interspousal violence. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 21(1), 96–102. Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (2001). Attributions and regulative communication by parents participating in a community-based child physical abuse prevention program. In V. Manusov & J. H. Harvey (Eds.), Attribution, communication behavior, and close relationships (pp. 227–247). New York: Cambridge University Press. Wood, J. T. (1992). Telling our stories: Narratives as a basis for theorizing sexual harassment. Journal of Applied Communication Research, 20(4), 349–363.

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7 A Communication Perspective on Physical Child Abuse

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urrent research suggests that communication processes are associated with family violence (Cahn, 2009). Whitchurch and Constantine (1993) support this finding claiming that—when studying a complex phenomenon such as family violence—a communication perspective enables researchers to simultaneously examine an entire set of interrelated behaviors as opposed to looking at isolated factors individually. In other words, approaching family violence from a communication perspective allows researchers to consider a range of different and sometimes contradictory theories or explanations of abuse by coalescing them into a holistic understanding of child abuse (Ade-Ridder & Jones, 1996). The purpose of this chapter is to advance a communication perspective for the study of physical child abuse. Specifically, in this chapter, we: (1) describe the prevalence of physical child abuse, (2) advocate for approaching family violence from a communication perspective, and (3) suggest how certain patterns of family communication and physical child abuse may be associated with one another.

Prevalence of Physical Child Abuse Americans live in one of the most affluent and educated countries in the world. With this privilege comes the expectation that inhabitants of such a culture will experience a desirable sense of well-being, comfort, and

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safety especially within the confines of their own homes; yet every ten seconds an American child is physically abused at the hands of his or her own family members. In this chapter, physical child abuse is defined as an act carried out by at least one family member with the intention, or the perceived intention, of causing pain or injury to a child regardless of whether or not the act results in injury. The acts referenced here range from causing slight pain (e.g., a slap) to severe pain (e.g., death). Child abuse reports in the United States have maintained a steady growth for the past 10 years, with the total number of reports nationwide increasing 54% since 1987 (Peddle, Wang, Diaz, & Reid, 2002). In 1999, an estimated 3,244,000 children were reported to Child Protective Services (CPS) as victims of some form of child maltreatment (62% neglect, 25% physical, 7% sexual, 3% emotional) (National Center on Child Abuse and Neglect, 1992; Peddle et al., 2000). Almost 30% of these individuals had been severely beaten by a parent (i.e., kicked; punched; hit with a fist, a belt, or some other object). If spanking is included in this definition, then almost 95% of the parents in the United States have abused a child by using spanking as a form of punishment (Straus, 2001, 2005; Straus & Gelles, 1990). In the United States, homicides occur more often among family members than between strangers (Fox & Zawitz, 2000). In 2000, CPS confirmed that almost 2,000 children were murdered by their parents; 54% of these deaths were due to physical abuse, and 43% resulted from neglect. Along these same lines, homicides between strangers account for less than 15% of all homicides, and 60% of murder victims are related to their assailants (Petrie & Garner, 1990). Considering the fact that many cases of abuse are never observed or reported, it is likely that many of the current statistics grossly underestimate actual rates of abuse (Segrin & Flora, 2005). Empirical studies show that at least half of all physical child abuse cases are not reported, regardless of legal mandate (Warner & Hansen, 1994). Underreporting can be attributed to ambiguous definitions; fear of retaliation by the perpetrator; ignorance of the law; beliefs that the child will not benefit from the report; the age and sex of the perpetrator, victim, and observer; and beliefs about families by all individuals involved in the reporting process (Steinmetz, 1999). The first child abuse case in 1873 concerned 8-year-old Mary Ellen Wilson who was found seriously beaten, malnourished, and chained to her bed (Crosson-Tower, 2002). The public outcry from Mary Ellen’s case led to the establishment of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in 1874 (Pagelow, 1984). Decades later, in 1962, pediatrician Henry C. Kempe and his colleagues published the now famous article entitled “The Battered-Child Syndrome” (Kempe, Silverman, Steele,

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Droegemueller & Silver, 1962) and marked the beginning of a new social movement toward protecting children from abuse. In 1974, 100 years after Mary Ellen’s case, Congress enacted the Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act, which provided federal funding to states that passed laws requiring professionals to report suspected cases of child abuse (Pagelow, 1984). At the same time—in lieu of the history, consequences, and statistical trends regarding physical child abuse—society continues to deny the overwhelming presence of violence within American families. Understandably, it is difficult for anyone to accept that the family is the most violent social institution in our society (Straus & Gelles, 1986, 1990). It is easier to view the family as being relatively immune from violence, a place where loving people provide sustenance and care, a place composed of individuals engaging in the exchange of affection and emotional support (Steinmetz, 1977). Thus, child abuse itself can hardly be considered a new phenomenon. What is new is that this behavior is no longer socially acceptable (Ade-Ridder & Jones, 1996).

A Communication Approach to Family Violence A communication perspective allows researchers to identify and understand the maladaptive patterns of behavior that previous researchers claim are closely linked to physical child abuse. For example, research shows that abusive parents do not normally strike their children at random (Wilson, 1999). Instead, abusive incidents reflect patterns of persistent positive and negative parent-child interaction that develop over the course of daily interaction (Wilson, 1999). In this way, it can be argued that family interaction is the primary precursor to abusive parent-child episodes (Infante, Chandler, & Rudd, 1989; Olson et al., 1983). In addition, researchers contend that, in some cases, abuse functions as a form of conflict resolution in that it serves to “complete” a failed, verbal, parent-child interaction (Davis, 1996; Wilson, 1999). In other cases, abuse allows the parent(s) to establish relational control over their children (Davis, 1996). In both of these cases, the abuse frequently becomes an inherent aspect of the patterns of communication in the parent-child relationship—patterns that are extremely resistant to change (Roloff, 1996; Wilson & Whipple, 1995). A communication approach to physical child abuse essentially advances the notion that there are identifiable and even predictable social patterns underlying the abuse (Cahn, 2009, 1996; Gelles, 1996). Communication scholars embrace this assumption by considering violence an event that happens within a social matrix of recurring transactions that

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occur among all members of the family. These transactions serve as predictable and identifiable communication patterns that can be traced back to contingency histories located within the family. In this way, a communication perspective has the unique potential of revealing and differentiating between particular patterns of family interaction that may or may not be characterized by abuse. For many communication scholars, child abuse is considered dysfunctional communication or what Spitzberg and Cupach (1984) refer to as “incompetent communication.” While a competent communicator is someone who utilizes verbal and nonverbal symbols both appropriately (i.e., by not violating social norms) and effectively (i.e., by obtaining goals), an incompetent communicator is an individual who is not able to obtain his or her goals effectively (e.g., child compliance) and who violates social norms through the use of inappropriate communication (e.g., abuse) in order to achieve those goals (Spitzberg, 1994; Spitzberg, Canary, & Cupach, 1994). In this way, a communication perspective views abusers as communicatively incompetent and considers abusive actions as the dark side of communication (Lloyd, 1991). According to Planalp (1993), it is theoretically and pragmatically important to focus our attention on communication topics within the “dark side,” as these unpleasant topics encompass a range of understudied and meaningful phenomena that occur in all types of relationships, including seemingly healthy ones. In the past, some communication scholars, who focused primarily on interspousal conflict, have overlooked physical child abuse, an unfortunate oversight that contributed to a narrow view of interaction processes within families. For example, Planalp (1993, p. 7) states, “If we believe in the importance of studying communication for producing healthy patterns of interaction, we almost have to believe in its power to produce unhealthy patterns, and perhaps to change unhealthy to healthy ones.” Bandura (1973) argued that unskilled communicators are more apt to use physical force than those who are skilled (Sabourin & Stamp, 1995). One of the specific skill deficiencies established empirically by communication scholars is the deficiency in argumentation. People who use verbal aggression lack sound argumentation skills. When they cannot achieve their goals (i.e., get their way), they resort to violence. Without positive, effective verbal skills the victim of a verbally aggressive attack might defend himself with an attack as frustration mounts (Infante et al., 1989). Violence within families has also been associated with deficits in other types of communication skills such as a lack of problem-solving and positive negotiation skills (Sabourin, Infante, & Rudd, 1993). Prospective longitudinal studies find that physically abusive parents

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exhibit poor impulse control and antisocial behavior (Pianta, Egeland, & Erickson, 1989). Lacking communication skills that would enable parents to calm hurt feelings or create compromise, parents may find that their conflicts with children escalate in frequency or severity. However, because violence emerges in an interactive context, a deficiency in communication skills is only part of the communication problem (Langhinrichsen-Rohling, Smutzler, & Vivian, 1994). Verbal aggression is a catalyst because of a norm of reciprocity (e.g., Infante et al., 1989). One act leads to another, with escalating intensity, until aggression is likely (Berkowitz, 1983). The idea that an act of verbal aggression stimulates a verbally aggressive reply appears consistent with Levenson and Gottman’s finding (1983) that distressed marital couples, on high-conflict topics, reciprocate negative affect. The interrelatedness of a couple’s level of negative arousal may be an indication that the individuals have become locked into a pattern of destructive interaction (Levensen & Gottman, 1983). Such a feeling of being locked into a communication pattern may characterize reciprocity in verbal aggression. Results of observational studies indicate that one of the most significant and consistent interaction patterns found in abusive families is a disproportionate expression of negative or aversive behavior toward other family members (Lorber, Felton, & Reid, 1984; Whipple & Webster-Stratton, 1991). These negative and aversive behaviors include yelling, threatening, arguing, commanding, and the reciprocation of negative behavior (Wolfe, 1985). Family violence by nature involves social relationships and social behaviors, making an interactional-level theory appropriate for explaining the types and forms of family violence that occur most frequently (Miller & Knudsen, 1999). Wilson and Whipple (1995) argue that “physical child abuse is an interactional event that arises out of communication patterns that occur during discipline episodes” (p. 301). In fact, many scholars contend that face-to-face interaction is almost always the precursor for episodes of child abuse, arguing that parents do not strike out at random but rather at recognizable moments that unfold as part of a larger ongoing conversation (Davis, 1996). These recognizable moments reflect interactive patterns that are galvanized within the relationship. In other words, during parent-child interactions coercive efforts gradually emerge over time, creating a rigid pattern of negative, polarized interaction between family members in which abuse emerges as a response to unsuccessful verbal interactions (Wilson & Whipple, 1995). The abuse then becomes embedded in any seemingly related type of interaction (Holtzworth-Munroe, Smutzler, & Stuart, 1998). As a result, the abuse reflects persistent patterns of positive and negative parenting behaviors that occur over time.

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Comparisons of abusive families with other distressed (but nonabusive) families reveal that abusive families are not necessarily unique in their patterns of family conflict in that some nonabusing distressed families also exhibit higher rates of aversive exchanges and proportionately more negative than positive behavior (Lorber et al., 1984). It appears to be the relative absence of positive interactions that differentiates members of abusive families from matched, nonabusive families rather than the dramatic display of open conflict and aggression (Wolfe, 1985). Family members may learn to minimize their interactions in general in an effort to avoid conflict, since minor conflict can quickly develop into physically abusive episodes. Unfortunately, avoiding interaction carries with it the denial of prosocial, desirable exchanges that could serve to reverse or attenuate expectations of conflict. In this way, it is not only the violence itself that is damaging but rather, the experience of living in a family environment with the possibility that it could happen again that impairs family functioning (Cahn & Lloyd, 1996). However, in spite of these pleas and the aforementioned advantages that a communication perspective offers for understanding abuse, we believe that family communication scholars have not yet done enough to uncover the types of family communication patterns that include or characterize abusive and nonabusive families, nor do they understand as much as they should about how families with abusive relationships communicate within those relationships. It is our opinion that related studies are limited in that they only measure instances of abuse or aggression and do not provide insight on patterns of family communication. Moreover, the few studies that address communication measure broader family communication patterns without including conflict and violence as key factors. Additionally, there are no direct empirical investigations regarding the linkages that may exist between communication and the structure of family life for those in abusive relationships. Traditionally abusive families are identified either by external authority figures (e.g., judges, therapists, police; see Cahn, 2009) or by the self-reported (e.g., using CTS/trait VA measures) occurrence of aggressive acts by family members themselves. What is needed is a classification system or measure of family communication patterns that includes a description of the extent to which these patterns manifest aggression or a predisposition for aggression between family members. In other words, there is a need for communication researchers to determine if there are particular patterns of family communication (i.e., measurable family types) that are more closely associated with the reported presence of physical child abuse. As a step toward this goal, we consulted three bodies of literature: (1) parenting research, which has found that families reliably display

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certain communication-related behaviors that can be used to differentiate between abusive families and nonabusive families; (2) communication research, which has identified abusive and nonabusive communication behavior, and (3) family communication research, which has identified family types based on their patterns of communication. A synthesis of these three bodies of research reveals that particular parenting behaviors associated with abuse are also associated with particular family communication patterns. Thus, we should be able to link the parenting research with the family communication research to advocate that particular family types—discerned by their patterns of communication—are more likely to be associated with abuse. One reason that child abuse was not seen as a social problem for many years is the relationship of discipline or punishment with parenting. Multiple child-rearing sources from antiquity to the 18th century recommended the beating of children as an effective and primary method of socialization (De Mause, 1988). In Radbill’s words: “The maltreatment of children has been justified for many centuries by the belief that severe physical punishment was necessary either to maintain discipline, to transmit educational ideas, to please certain gods, or to expel evil spirits” (1980, p. 3). Two theories on family communication patterns offer possibilities for studying the role of communication, conflict, and violence in abusive families. They are parenting styles and family communication types.

Parenting Styles A significant line of research related to parenting stems from Baumrind’s (1971) classic study of parenting style and child competence has identified the following four styles of parenting: • Authoritative (i.e., democratic) parents are described as demanding, but also as supportive and responsive and are regarded as the most effective for socializing competent and content children. • Permissive parents tend to offer minimal support and nurturance and exercise little control. • Authoritarian parents are highly demanding and controlling, but are also rejecting and unresponsive. • Neglecting parents are described as detached and indifferent. Existing research on parenting styles reveals two styles that are relevant for understanding child maltreatment: (1) a permissive style, which consists of an overall lack of involvement, nurturance, warmth,

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control, and child monitoring, and (2) an authoritarian style, which involves a high amount of punitiveness, restrictiveness, coercion, and control and a low amount of warmth and support. The first style—permissive—is linked to child neglect. The second style—authoritarian—is linked to child abuse (Baumrind, 1991; Macoby & Martin, 1983). Clinical research indicates that physically abusive parenting is the destructive extreme of authoritarian parenting (LaRossa & Wolf, 1985). Specifically, authoritarian parents place inappropriate and sometimes unrealistic demands on their child and are, at the same time, unresponsive to their child’s needs. Authoritarian parents exhibit an insensitivity to the child’s level of ability, interest, or needs that may impair the child’s self-esteem or motivation, as illustrated by a parent who offers a young child very little direction or feedback while expecting the child to complete a difficult task. These parents express the lowest levels of affection, empathy, and support for their children; hence, they have little positive emotional rapport with their children (Baumrind, 1995). Authoritarian parents value obedience as an end in itself. They rely heavily on power-assertive techniques and expect compliance, loyalty, and perfection from their child and employ any means necessary to ensure this compliance. These parents favor punitive measures to control the child’s will. They believe in and promote respect for authority, for order, and for tradition and they argue that the child should accept their word without explanation. Authoritarian parents are the least likely to offer an explanation to their child when attempting to alter their child’s behavior. Furthermore, they discourage expressions of disagreement by the child. Both authoritarian and abusive parents hold rigid and inflexible expectations for their child’s behavior and utilize controlling behaviors uniformly, rather than adapting their own behavior to the situation (Wilson & Whipple, 2001). During conflict episodes, authoritarian parents discourage child input and expect complete obedience on the basis of parental authority alone. These parents typically discourage verbal responses or reasoning from their child and are unlikely to change their demands should their child appeal for such change. Authoritarian parents engage in a mixture of conflict-promoting and conflict-inhibiting behaviors. They use relatively high levels of power assertion techniques and are responsive; however, they are most often inconsistent in their use of such techniques. Jaffe (1997) argues that authoritarian parents are more rejecting and practice ineffective and harsh methods of discipline. Children in these households are essentially taught by their parents to resort to force in situations of mutually escalating conflict. The issue then, is that communication researchers should combine parenting styles with conflict and violence scales to create a more com-

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prehensive family typology. While parenting styles offer possibilities for the study of conflict and violence among family members, one wonders if parents adhere to one style or use a variety over their parenting years or vary their styles with different children as the family grows in size. Moreover, what happens when parents manifest different styles? Also, the idea of style suggests that the parent intends to undertake actions that may or may not be perceived by the child. How does the child see him- or herself in relation to parents and other siblings? The following approach tries to incorporate more of the family dynamics to include the parent’s and child’s understanding of them.

Family Communication Patterns Family communication research has found that families can be classified into four different family types (i.e., a family typology) based on their underlying communication patterns (Fitzpatrick & Ritchie, 1994). The connection between family communication patterns and parenting styles is that many of the underlying communication patterns in the family typology overlap considerably with the communication-related behaviors in the parenting research. Thus, the communication-related behaviors associated with physical child abuse in the parenting literature may be integrated with the literature on family communication patterns in an attempt to differentiate between abusive and nonabusive family types in the family typology. Fitzpatrick and Ritchie believe that families develop identifiable communication patterns that facilitate family functioning. These patterns of communication become the framework through which the family interprets both itself and the world around it (Meadowcroft & Fitzpatrick, 1988). Specifically, Fitzpatrick and Ritchie describe the family communication environment as a set of family norms reflecting a particular orientation to family interaction both toward other people (i.e., conformity orientation) and toward objects and ideas (i.e., conversation orientation). These two dimensions contribute to the underlying processes from which family communication patterns emerge. The interaction of these two orientations produces four family types: pluralistic, protective, consensual, and laissez-faire. Pluralistic Families Families labeled as “pluralistic” are characterized by high levels of conversation and low levels of conformity. This combination creates an open and unrestrained family environment in which all family members

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feel free discussing a broad range of topics. Such an unrestricted communication climate fosters the communication competence of all family members, especially children. Children are encouraged to spontaneously express their ideas, feelings, and beliefs without fear of being judged or criticized. As a result, children in these families learn to value family conversations and, at the same time, develop into independent and autonomous thinkers, which only further serves to advance their already well-practiced communication skills. Pluralistic parents tend to be more democratic in that they do not feel a need to control or force their children to comply with their own opinions or to make all of their children’s decisions for them. These parents are more willing to accept their children’s opinions and to let them participate equally in family decision-making situations (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 2002a). Protective Families Family communication patterns in a protective family differ markedly from those in a pluralistic family. Communication in protective families is characterized by an emphasis on obedience to parental authority (high conformity orientation) and by little concern for conceptual matters or for open communication within the family (low conversation orientation). In protective families, communication is a means to enforce family norms as opposed to exchanging ideas (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 2002a). Parents believe they should make all of the decisions for their family and their children, and they see little reason for explaining or justifying these decisions (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 2002a). In turn, children learn that there is little value in family conversation. Children also come to distrust their own decision-making abilities, having minimal practice within the family context. In fact, decisions in these families are typically made without consulting the children at all. As a result, children are not well prepared for dealing with outside pressures and are easily persuaded by individuals outside of their family regardless of the arguments or reasoning provided by these individuals (Fitzpatrick & Ritchie, 1994). Protective parents value obedience as an end in and of itself. Protective parents expect compliance and loyalty from their children. They believe in and promote respect for authority, order, and tradition and argue that children should accept their word without any explanation (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 2002a). These parents are the least likely to provide reasons when attempting to gain child compliance, offering only minimal verbal justifications for their actions (e.g., “Because I said so”). Consensual Families Consensual families are high in both conversation orientation and in conformity orientation. As a result, these families experience a tension

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between pressure to maintain the existing hierarchy within the family and an interest in open communication and exploring alternative ideas (Fitzpatrick, 1994; Ritchie & Fitzpatrick, 1990). Parents in consensual families are interested in their children’s perspectives, but—as parents— they believe they should be making the decisions for the family and for their children. They resolve this tension by listening to their children while, at the same time, explaining their decisions with the hope that their children will understand the reasoning behind their decisions. Children in consensual families learn to value family conversation and to adopt their parents’ values and beliefs but have the freedom to escape into fantasy if necessary. In consensual families, conflict is generally regarded as negative and harmful, but because unresolved conflict is considered a threat to the family, family members will engage in conflict resolution (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 1997). Conflict about unimportant issues, however, is generally avoided in lieu of preserving family harmony. Because consensual families tend to avoid conflict and to perceive it negatively, conflict sometimes leads to verbal aggressiveness. This is because initiating and engaging in conflict are seen as violations of the rules of family relationships. This is also because certain family members periodically feel that their individual concerns are not adequately addressed by the family (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 1997). Overall, the practice of open communication in consensual families enables them to effectively manage conflict and successfully resolve issues before they become destructive patterns of interactions (Koerner & Fitzpatrick, 2002c). Laissez-faire Families Laissez-faire families are low in both conversation orientation and in conformity orientation. These families are described as having infrequent, detached interactions among family members that cover a limited range of topics. Children learn that there is little value in family conversation because interactions are emotionally unrewarding. Most members of laissez-faire families are emotionally divorced from their families. Because members of laissez-faire families value neither conformity nor communication very much, they do not experience their families as constraining their individual interests, so conflicts are rare. Laissez-faire parents believe that all family members should be able to make their own decisions, but unlike pluralistic parents they do not really have an interest in these decisions or their outcomes, nor do they value communicating about these decisions with their children. Because they do not receive much parental support in making decisions, children in these families end up questioning their decision-making ability

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and constantly experiencing internal conflict over daily choices they face. These children are also more influenced by social groups outside of their family. Laissez-faire families tend to be headed by what Fitzpatrick and Ritchie (1994) refer to as “the mixed-couple type.” The family environment associated with a mixed couple is described as inconsistent in that couples display differences in gender roles, family norms, and family expectations. Children do not experience effective conflict resolution as couples typically have opposing and ineffective conflict resolution styles. Conflicts often go unresolved, and family members do not support each other during conflicts. Since parents do not engage in conversation or conflict resolution very often, they do not provide models of effective conversational skills or conflict resolution for their children. The overall lack of family interaction hinders the communication competence of all family members, especially the children. How do issues of conflict and violent behavior factor into different family communication types? Specifically, we argue that certain family types are more likely to be associated with the presence of child abuse than other family types. This argument is based on existing research, which demonstrates that particular parenting behaviors associated with particular styles of parent-child interaction can reliably differentiate between abusive and nonabusive families. Pluralistic families are described as open, cooperative, democratic, and supportive and demonstrate a high degree of positive parent-child interactions while promoting independence and autonomy of family members. Parents are yielding, flexible, and skilled in child-rearing. Communicatively competent family members are able to resolve conflicts utilizing effective argumentation skills devoid of verbal aggressiveness. Additionally, power is evenly distributed across gender and generational boundaries creating a nonthreatening environment for those who are typically the least powerful (e.g., women and children). As a result, it seems reasonable to suggest that pluralistic families would not be associated with abusive parent-child relationships considering how different pluralistic parents are from parents previously identified as abusive. In other words, the family communication environment in a pluralistic family should not be associated with the presence of child abuse as the communicative behaviors underlying these families have not been previously linked to abusive families. Previous research attempting to establish a link between child-rearing characteristics and child abuse overwhelmingly identifies the characteristics that are present in protective families; whereas, the characteristics inherent in pluralistic families are more closely linked with optimal family functioning and communication competence. As such, it seems

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reasonable to hypothesize that the patterns of communication that are characteristic of protective families are more likely to be associated with physical child abuse than the communication patterns that characterize pluralistic families. The nature of consensual families makes it difficult to predict whether or not this type of family communication environment will be associated with child abuse. Consensual families value conformity and view differences in values and opinions as disloyal, but they also value family conversations where these differences are aired. Often, however, differences are not expressed for fear of seeming disloyal, which creates frustration that can lead to verbal aggressiveness. It would seem that whether or not this family type experiences child abuse would depend largely on the communication competence of individual members and the family’s latitude of acceptance regarding differences among family members’ feelings and beliefs. It could be the case, in some families, that having a high conversation orientation outweighs the high conformity orientation enough to offset feelings of disloyalty. Or it could be the case that the family values conformity more than open dialogue, which would create a different environment entirely. There is a range of variables to consider including, but not limited to, topic of conversation, gender and age of children, and relationship quality. Given the limited information about laissez-faire families, it is difficult to determine whether or not these families would be associated with child abuse. To some extent, it seems as if laissez-faire family members are too emotionally and physically detached from their family to be involved in the intense interactions characteristic of abusive episodes. However, it might be the case that a parent is able to abuse because he or she is emotionally detached from his or her child. Similarly, it could also be the case that because a family has experienced abuse over a long period of time, members in the family have become detached and uninvolved. It also seems that laissez-faire families are more likely to be characterized by neglect as opposed to abuse as laissez-faire parents resemble Baumrind’s (1971) permissive parenting style, which has previously been associated with child neglect. Nevertheless, as is true with consensual families, there are too many unknown variables to hypothesize whether or not there will be a relationship between laissez-faire families and child abuse. In sum, the literature reveals that conflict and violence may be associated more with some family types than with others. Researchers who are interested in conducting research on family types could add conflict and violence scales to existing measures to see if child abuse is in fact more closely associated with some patterns of communication than with others. This approach is followed presently by Olson (2002) in her qualitative study of common couple violence (CCV), where she found that rela-

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tional patterns of power and control among couples is associated with different levels of violence and the initiation and reciprocity of aggression in the relationship. Specifically, couples experiencing CCV can be characterized as either aggressive, violent, or abusive based on the interplay among reciprocity, power, control, and level of aggression in their relationship. An aggressive type is different from the violent type because the aggression is substantially lower, and there is no struggle for power over one another. That is, the relationship is democratic. The violent type conforms to a dyadic/symmetrical pattern with each partner vying for sole control, a power struggle, resulting in reciprocated acts of violence. The abusive type conforms to a domineering-submissive communication pattern and shows high amounts of verbal abuse, including physical violence in some cases, which is not reciprocated. The main discovery is the idea that violent couples vary with regard to how aggressive behaviors are enacted and reciprocated. In a similar fashion, researchers could combine measures of family communication types with scales that differentiate the amount and nature of aggression, violence, or abuse. New family types may emerge from this analysis in which one type may experience no aggression, violence, or abuse; another type may experience primarily aggression; another type may experience primarily violence; and finally, a third type may experience primarily abuse. In conclusion, although some interpersonal communication research exists, family communication scholars have not looked at the types of family communication patterns that characterize abusive and nonabusive families, nor do they understand how families with abusive relationships communicate within those relationships (Sabourin & Stamp, 1995). Moreover, there are no direct empirical investigations regarding the linkages that may exist between communication and the structure of family life for those in abusive relationships. As a result, examining communication in abusive relationships seems critical to furthering our understanding of family relationships in general and of the role that communication plays in such relationships (Sabourin & Stamp, 1995). We propose that future family communication research include efforts to develop measures that include conflict and violent behavior among family members.

References Ade-Ridder, L., & Jones, A. R. (1996). Home is where the hell is: An introduction to violence against children from a communication perspective. In D. D. Cahn & S. A. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 59–84). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

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Anderson, K. L., Umberson, D., & Elliott, S. (2004). Violence and abuse in families. In A. Vangelisti (Ed.), Handbook of family communication (pp. 629–646). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Bandura, A. (1973). Aggression: A social learning analysis. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Baumrind, D. (1971). Harmonious parents and their preschool children. Developmental Psychology, 4, 99–102. Baumrind, D. (1991). Parenting styles and adolescent development. In J. BrooksGunn, R. Lerner, & A. C. Petersen (Eds.), The encyclopedia on adolescence (pp. 746–758). New York: Garland. Baumrind, D. (1995). Child maltreatment and optimal caregiving social contexts. New York: Garland. Berkowitz, L. (1983). Aversively stimulated aggression: Some parallels and differences in research with animals and humans. American Psychologist, 38, 1135–1144. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979). The ecology of human development: Experiments by nature and design. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Cahn, D. D. (1996). Family violence from a communication perspective. In D. D. Cahn & S. A. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 1–19). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Cahn, D. (2009). An evolving communication perspective on family violence. In D. Cahn (Ed.) Family violence: Communication processes (pp. 1–24). Albany: State University of New York Press. Campbell, J. C., Kub, J., Belknap, R. A., & Templin, T. N. (1997). Predictors of depression in battered women. Violence against Women, 3, 271–293. Crosson-Tower, C. (2002). Understanding child abuse and neglect. Boston: Allyn & Bacon. Davis, P. W. (1996). Threats of corporal punishment as verbal aggression: A naturalistic study. Child Abuse and Neglect, 20, 289–304. De Mause, L. (1988). The history of childhood: The untold story of child abuse. New York: Peter Bedrick Books. Donohue, B., Miller, E., Van Hasselt, V. B., & Hersen, M. (1998). Ecological treatment of child abuse. In V. B. Van Hasselt & M. Hersen (Eds.), Sourcebook of psychological treatment manuals for children and adolescents (pp. 203–278). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Ellison, C., & Sherkat, D. (1993). Obedience and autonomy: Religion and parental values reconsidered. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 32, 313–329. Fitzpatrick, M. A. (1994). Relational dimensions instrument. In R. Rubin, P. Palmgreen, & H. E. Syphor (Eds.), Communication Research Messages (pp. 314–341). New York: Guilford.

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Fitzpatrick, M. A., & Koerner, A. F. (1996). Family communication schemata and social functions of communication. Paper presented at the International Research Colloquium on Communication Research, Moscow, Russia. Fitzpatrick, M. A., & Ritchie, D. L. (1994). Communication schemata within the family: Multiple perspectives on family interaction. Human Communication Research, 20, 275–301. Gelles, R. J. (1996). The book of David: How preserving families can cost children’s lives. New York: Basic Books. Gelles, R. J. (1997). Intimate violence in families. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Holtzworth-Munroe, A., Smutzler, N., & Stuart, G. L. (1998). Demand and withdraw communication among couples experiencing husband violence. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 66, 731–743. Infante, D. A., Chandler, T. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1989). Test of an argumentative skill deficiency model of interpersonal violence. Communication Monographs, 56, 163–175. Jaffe, M. L. (1997). Understanding parenting (2nd ed). Needham Heights, MA: Allyn & Bacon. Kempe, C. H., Silverman, F. M., Steele, B., Droegemueller, W., & Silver, H. R. (1962). The battered child syndrome. Journal of the American Medical Association, 181, 17–24. Koerner, A. F., & Fitzpatrick, M. A. (1997). Family type and conflict: The impact of conversation orientation and conformity orientation on conflict in the family. Communication Studies, 48, 59–78. Koerner, A. F., & Fitzpatrick, M. A. (2002a). Toward a theory of family communication. Communication Theory, 12, 70–91. Koerner, A. F., & Fitzpatrick, M. A. (2002b). You never leave your family in a fight: The impact of families of origins on conflict-behavior in romantic relationships. Communication Studies, 53, 234–251. Langhinrichsen-Rohling, J., Smutzler, N., & Vivian, D. (1994). Positivity in marriage: The role of discord and physical aggression against wives. Journal of Marriage and Family, 56, 69–79. LaRossa, R., & Wolf, J. H. (1985). On qualitative family research. Journal of Marriage and Family, 47, 531–541. Levenson, R. W., & Gottman, J. M. (1983). Marital interaction: Physiological linkage and affective exchange. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 45, 587–597. Lloyd, S. A. (1991). The dark side of courtship: Violence and sexual exploitation. Family Relations, 40, 14–20. Lloyd, S. A., & Emery, B. C. (1993). Abuse in the family: An ecological, lifecycle perspective. In T. H. Brubaker (Ed.), Family relations: Challenges for the future. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

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Lorber, R., Felton, D. K., & Reid, J. B. (1984). A social learning approach to the reduction of coercive process in child abuse families: A molecular analysis. Advances in Behavior Research & Therapy, 6, 29–45. McLeod, J. M., & Chafee, S. H. (1973). Interpersonal approaches to communication research. American Behavioral Scientist, 16, 469–499. Meadowcroft, J. M., & Fitzpatrick, M. A. (1988). Theories of family communication: Toward a merger of intersubjectivity and mutual influence processes. In R. P. Hawkins, J. M. Wiemann, & S. Pingree (Eds.), Advancing communication science: Merging mass and interpersonal processes (pp. 253–275). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Miller, J. L., & Knudsen, D. D. (1999). Family abuse and violence. In M. B. Sussman, S. K. Steinmetz, & G. W. Peterson (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (pp. 705–741). New York: Plenum. National Research Council. (1993). Understanding child abuse and neglect: Panel on research on child abuse and neglect. Washington, DC: National Academy. Olson, D. H., McCubbin, H. I., Barnes, H. L., Larsen, A. S., Muxen, M. J., & Wilson, M. (1983). Families, what makes them work? Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Olson, L. N. (2002). Exploring “common couple violence” in heterosexual romantic relationships. Western Journal of Communication, 66(1), 104–128. Pagelow, M. D. (1984). Family violence. New York: Praeger. Parke, R., & Collmer, C. (1975). Child Abuse: An interdisciplinary analysis. In E. M. Hetherington (Ed.), Review of child developmental research (vol. 5, pp. 509–590). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Peddle, N., Wang, C. T., Diaz, J., & Reid, R. (2002). Current trends in child abuse prevention and fatalities: The 2000 Fifty State Survey. Chicago, IL: National Center on Child Abuse Prevention Research. Pianta, R., Egeland, B., & Erickson, M. F. (1989). The antecedents of maltreatment: Results of the mother-child interaction research project. In D. S. Cicchetti & V. Carlson (Eds.), Child maltreatment: Theory and research on the causes and consequences of child abuse and neglect (pp. 203–253). New York: Cambridge University Press. Planalp, S. (1993). Communication, cognition, and emotion. Communication Monographs, 60, 3–10. Radbill, S. (1980). A history of child abuse and infanticide. In C. H. Kempe & R. Helfer (Eds.), The battered child (pp. 3–20). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Ritchie, D. L., & Fitzpatrick, M. A. (1990). Family communication patterns: Measuring interpersonal perceptions of interpersonal relationships. Communication Research, 17, 523–544.

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Roloff, M. E. (1996). The catalyst hypothesis: Conditions under which coercive communication leads to physical aggression. In D. D. Cahn & S. A. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 20–36). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Sabourin, T. C., Infante, D. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1993). Verbal aggression in marriage: A comparison of violent, distressed but nonviolent, and non-distressed couples. Human Communication Research, 20, 245–267. Sabourin, T. C., & Stamp, G. H. (1995). Communication and the experience of dialectical tensions in family life: An examination of abusive and non-abusive families. Communication Monographs, 62, 213–242. Snell, J. E., Rosenwald, R. J., & Robey, A. (1964). The wife beater’s wife: A study of family interaction. Archives of General Psychiatry, 11, 107–113. Spitzberg, B. H. (1994). The dark side of interpersonal communication. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Spitzberg, B. H., Canary, D. J., & Cupach, W. R. (1994). A competence-based approach to the study of interpersonal conflict. In D. D. Cahn (Ed.), Conflict in intimate relationships (pp. 183–202). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Spitzberg, B. H., & Cupach, W. (1984). Interpersonal communication competence. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Steinmetz, S. K. (1977). The cycle of violence: Assertive, aggressive, and abusive family interaction. New York: Praeger. Steinmetz, S. K. (1999). Adolescence in contemporary families. In M. B. Sussman, S. K. Steinmetz, & G. W. Peterson (Eds.), Handbook of marriage and the family (pp. 307–326). New York: Plenum. Straus, M. A. (2001). Beating the devil out of them: Corporal punishment in American families and its effect on children. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction. Straus, M. A. (2005). Corporal punishment of children in theoretical perspective. New Haven: Yale University Press. Straus, M. A., & Gelles, R. J. (Eds.). (1986). Societal changes and family violence from 1976 to 1985 as revealed by two national surveys. Journal of Marriage and Family, 48, 465–479. Straus, M. A., & Gelles, R. J. (Eds.). (1990). Physical violence in American families: Risk factors and adaptations to violence in 8,145 families. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction. Warner, J. E., & Hansen, D. J. (1994). The identification and reporting of physical abuse by physicians: A review and implications for research. Child Abuse & Neglect, 18, 11–25. Whipple, E. E., & Webster-Stratton, C. (1991). The role of stress in physically abusive families. Child Abuse and Neglect, 15, 279–291.

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Whitchurch, G. G., & Constantine, L. L. (1993). Systems theory. In P. G. Boss, W. J. Doherty, R. LaRossa, W. R. Schumm, & S. K. Steinmetz, (Eds.), Sourcebook of family theories and methods: A contextual approach (pp. 325–352). New York: Plenum. Wilson, S. R. (1999). Child physical abuse: The relevance of language and social interaction research. Research on Language and Social Interaction, 32, 173–184. Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (1995). Communication, discipline, and physical child abuse. In T. J. Socha & G. H. Stamp (Eds.), Parents, children, and communication: Frontiers of theory and research (pp. 299–317). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Wilson, S. R., & Whipple, E. E. (2001). Attributions and regulative communication by parents participating in a community-based child physical abuse prevention program. In V. Manusov & J. H. Harvey (Eds.), Attribution, communication behavior, and close relationships (pp. 227–247). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Wolfe, D. A. (1985). Child abusive parents: An empirical review and analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 97, 462–482.

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8 Distinguishing Communication Behaviors of Mothers High and Low in Trait Verbal Aggression A Qualitative Analysis of Mother-Child Playtime Interactions

FELICIA ROBERTS, STEVEN R. WILSON, JULIE E. DELANEY, and JESSICA J. RACK

Parent-to-child maltreatment includes a wide range of problematic parenting practices such as physical and verbal aggression, neglect, and sexual abuse. (See Chapter 1 of this book.) In this chapter we focus on verbal aggression (VA), defined by Vissing, Straus, Gelles, and Harrop (1991) as a symbolic act (i.e., either verbal or nonverbal) which, whether active or passive, is intended—or perceived as intended—to cause psychological pain. Vissing and Bailey (1996) emphasize the complexity of VA because it is associated with both intent and behavioral outcomes. In the Communication discipline, verbally aggressive behavior has been distinguished from argumentative behavior by “the locus of attack,” in that aggressive behavior attacks the self-concept rather than the ideas or positions advanced by another person (Infante & Rancer, 1996). Trait verbal aggression, in turn, is the tendency to enact such behavior when differences or disagreements arise (Infante & Wigley, 1986). Verbal aggression is commonly viewed as a catalyst for physically abusive behavior (Roloff, 1996), but it may be as harmful as physical 155

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abuse (Ade-Ridder & Jones, 1996). In the domain of child development, verbally aggressive acts can be particularly injurious by negatively affecting a child’s psychosocial development. Although no causal link has been demonstrated, an association has been found between parents’ self-reports (during telephone interviews) of verbally aggressive behavior and negative psychosocial outcomes for their children (Vissing et al., 1991). Research also suggests that even in situations that do not elicit explicitly aggressive messages, parental trait VA is associated with a broad range of less than optimal parenting practices. For example, parents high in trait VA report employing an authoritarian rather than an authoritative style of parenting (Bayer & Cegala, 1992), possess less appropriate and effective plans for responding to child resistance (Beatty, Burant, Dobos, & Rudd, 1996), and use corporal punishment more frequently than parents who score low on trait VA measures (Kassing et al., 1999; Roberto, Carlyle, & McClure, 2006). Although we can define with some confidence what constitutes verbally aggressive behavior, and may indeed be able to correlate it with other parental traits and types of outcomes for children, it is difficult to study VA as it naturally emerges. When observation times are relatively long, differences in negative parental behavior may emerge (e.g., Bousha & Twentyman, 1984; see also Wilson, Shi, Tirmenstein, Norris, & Rack, 2006 for a metaanalysis). However, observation of verbal aggression alone cannot provide a more generalized view of common communication behaviors that may characterize parents at risk for verbal aggression. If we wish to better understand this phenomenon in its full scope as a communication phenomenon, in the interest of providing education to reduce the risk of children’s exposure to parental verbal aggression, then communication indicators besides overt verbal aggression may be helpful as entry points for prevention. Self-reports of verbal aggression using standard scales (e.g., Infante & Wigley, 1986; Straus, Hamby, Finkelhor, Moore, & Runyan, 1998) in tandem with observational study may help us better ascertain whether the disposition to verbal aggressiveness is indicated in other sorts of communicative behaviors. The current study aims to explore that possibility by posing the following question: Are there interactional patterns that are common to verbally aggressive parents that may not be aggressive per se but that might be indicators of trait verbal aggressiveness? In this chapter we address this question by first describing and justifying our approach in the background section, then by detailing our qualitative methodology, and finally by providing results in terms of communication patterns as exemplified in a series of transcribed excerpts from eight mother-child playtime interactions.

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The excerpts presented here are not intended as proof of differences in frequency of behaviors; those frequency differences are analyzed elsewhere and in terms of the larger sample from which the interactions for the current study were drawn (Wilson, Roberts, Rack, & Delaney, 2008). The excerpts provide, instead, the sort of qualitative detail that allows us to fill in and explain a central finding from the larger study about frequency differences in mothers’ directing behavior. The current follow-up study allows us to compare and contrast the mothers with the highest and lowest VA scores so that we can examine similarities and differences in the ways that the same speech act (e.g., directing) may embody and project different courses of action (e.g., controlling an activity vs. supporting an activity).

Background The central concern of this study is to explore whether mothers with an apparent predisposition to verbal aggression (as measured through a selfreport measure; Infante & Wigley, 1986) exhibit communication orientations that are different from comparison mothers, even during short, nonconflictual play periods. We approached this problem by analyzing videotaped interactions of mothers and children playing together in a controlled setting. These interactions were collected as part of a larger study, which is fully described elsewhere (Wilson, Morgan, Hayes, Bylund, & Herman, 2004; Wilson et al., 2008). The analysis presented here is a qualitative examination of a subset (n = 8) of these naturalistic instances of mother-child interaction (each lasting about 12 minutes). The larger study (Wilson et al., in press) examined, among other relationships, the relationship between maternal self-reported scores of trait VA and coded observations of playtime behaviors. Observers were masked to trait VA scores. Overall, mothers as a group (n = 40) exhibited virtually no verbally aggressive behavior. That is, less than 1% of the 6second intervals (of a 12-minute interaction) coded for a range of 21 behaviors had an instance of child criticism. However, in terms of other common parental behaviors, mothers’ trait VA scores were positively associated (r = .48) with the frequency with which they used directives, defined as attempts to alter their child’s behavior (e.g., commands, suggestions). This finding, while provocative, is not easily extended in a practical manner: all parents regularly direct their children’s activities, whether cooperative or not. This raises the question of whether the rate of directing is a sufficient indicator of verbal aggression or whether the higher rate of commands and suggestions is actually tapping some underlying disposition toward interaction with the child or the task or both.

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In a similar vein, Sabourin and Stamp (1995) developed a procedure for examining adult couples (with and without a history of abuse) by asking them to talk to each other about their typical day. These interviews were conducted in the couples’ homes with the researcher present to occasionally probe. In this way, the couples engaged in near natural conversations, which were then subject to detailed analysis. The description of the day’s routine, “a seemingly innocuous chore,” nonetheless evoked a “degree of animosity . . . in the abusive couples [that was] particularly pronounced” (p. 237). The mother-child playtime activities examined for the current study, while presumably fun and innocuous, nonetheless elicit interaction patterns that may well be normal for these moms and kids and that provide more accessible material for developing approaches to intervention.

Method Participants For the current analysis, we examined 8 of the 40 mother-child dyads from a larger study of whether mothers’ potential for verbal and physical aggression was evident behaviorally during short playtime interactions (Wilson et al., 2004; Wilson et al., 2008). The mothers were recruited from one of two social service agencies in a large North American city to participate in a study of communication and parenting. Mothers were paid $50 for participating. The subset of 8 dyads was chosen based on the mothers’ trait VA score. Specifically, the 4 mothers from the larger sample who scored the highest on Infante and Wigley’s (1986) VA scale and the 4 who scored the lowest were selected for this qualitative analysis. By choosing the extreme ends of the scale (4 mothers in each category) we hoped to capture more easily any qualitative distinctions in the interactions that go beyond just rates of directing. (Henceforth, the shorthand “high VA” and “low VA” mother is used to indicate the two categories we created of those mothers scoring highest or lowest on the trait VA scale.) As would be expected, the average score on the VA scale of the 4 high VA mothers (M = 36.25, SD = 1.71) was substantially higher than that of the 4 low VA mothers (M = 10.25, SD = 0.50), Cohen’s d = 20.63. Additionally, these high VA mothers issued, on average, directives in 70% of the 6-second segments in their play period, as compared to only 27% for the low VA mothers. Table 8.1 presents demographic descriptive statistics for the 8 mother-child dyads. The 2 groups of mothers in the subsets for this

10 10 11 10

38 34 37 36

Latina AA AA AA

AA AA Mixed AA

Mom Ethnicity*

29 21 23 29

31 58** 21 43

Mom Age

24 15 16 18

17 N/A 15 39

Age 1st Birth

15 10 14 12

13 13 12 15

# Years Education

*Ethnicity is self-reported. **This is the child’s grandmother; she has sole custody of the child.

2 31 38 41

Low VA

6 18 21 24

High VA

Dyad #

Trait VA Score

1 2 3 5

6 3 4 1

# Kids Parenting

TABLE 8.1 Descriptive Statistics for 8 Mother-Child Dyads

5 6 5 8

5 6 3 4

Child Age

Male Female Female Male

Male Male Male Male

Child Sex

159

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study are similar in terms of race/ethnicity and education, though the 4 high VA mothers are, on average, older (and were older when they gave birth to their first child). These mothers are also parenting slightly more children as compared to the 4 low VA mothers. However, in the larger sample, after controlling for mother’s race/ethnicity, education, marital status, number of children, and age at birth of first child as well as child age and sex, maternal trait VA scores still predicted rates of maternal directing as well as child cooperation in the larger data set (Wilson et al., 2008). The 4 high VA mothers all happened to bring sons to participate with them in the study, whereas 2 of the low VA mothers came with sons, and 2 arrived with daughters. The children of high VA mothers also are slightly younger than those of low VA mothers. In terms of sex of the child in the dyad, mothers in the larger study who interacted with sons (M = .42) issued directives in more of their 6-second units, on average, as compared to mothers who interacted with daughters (M = .29), t (38) = 2.19, p < .05, Cohen’s d = .71. However, the partial correlation between maternal trait VA scores and rates of maternal directing, controlling for the effect of child sex, was r (36) = .47, p < .01; this is virtually identical to the zero-order correlation, r (38) = .48, p < .01. These results clearly indicate, therefore, that the relationship between maternal trait VA scores and directing is not influenced by child sex. Thus, we were confident that the difference in sexes of the children represented in the high vs. low VA subgroups was not a significant factor in the play interactions we analyzed. Procedures All participants completed a 10-minute play period with one of their children (who was between the ages of 3 and 8 years old) and a cleanup session (approximately 2 minutes). Playtime was videotaped in a conference room at the social service agency where the mothers and children received services. A box with five types of toys appropriate to the range of possible ages (e.g., puzzles of different types, drawing materials, building blocks, a shape sorter) was set on a blanket in the middle of the room, and mothers were told that they and their children could play with any or all of the toys in any order that they wished. The only constraint was that the mothers should make sure that she and her child stayed on the blanket to be within range of the video camera. During the 10-minute play period, researchers waited in a hallway outside of the room and observed the play period on a monitor; mothers and children were aware that they were being observed. At the 10minute mark, one researcher knocked on and opened the door and said,

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“It’s time to clean up” before closing the door again. Mothers had been instructed, when that signal occurred, to put all of the toys back in the box and to make sure that their child helped. The clean-up period varied somewhat in length, but averaged just over 2 minutes. Following the play period, mothers were interviewed and completed a demographic questionnaire and several measures including Infante and Wigley’s (1986) trait VA scale. Trait VA scores were derived for each mother by summing each mother’s responses to the 10 negatively worded items from the VA scale. Levine and colleagues (2004) recommend using only the negatively worded items based on prior research suggesting that two dimensions underlie the scale; their conclusion is that only the negatively worded items (e.g., “When individuals are very stubborn, I use insults to soften their stubbornness”) actually tap the propensity for verbal aggressiveness as originally intended (see Beatty, Rudd, & Valencic, 1999; Levine et al., 2004). Data Analysis Because this was intended as a descriptive study, we did not enter the analytic process looking for evidence to confirm specific hypotheses regarding how the groups might differ in their predispositions toward parent-child interaction. The conclusions we draw are the outcome of the repeated observation and detailed transcription of recorded materials, not an interpretation of those materials guided by particular theoretical framework. Each of the eight videotaped interactions (each approximately 12 minutes) initially was roughly transcribed by the authors. Each author was responsible for transcribing two of the videotapes: one in the high VA category and one in the low VA category. Since the authors had been working with the materials for several months, they were not masked to these VA categories. Through this transcription process, which itself is a first level of analysis (Roberts, 2008), the authors were alert to contrasts and similarities between the videotaped play periods. Analysis proceeded with authors bringing their assessment and description of both unique and similar behaviors to the research group; these assessments were then scrutinized by the whole group through repeated viewings and the detailing and correction of transcriptions. Based on this process, the authors developed a list of verbal and nonverbal sequences (actions) that tended to occur within each category (high or low VA tapes). Once this set of actions was available, researchers returned to the task of looking for behaviors or sequence types across the categories: “low VA” tapes were inspected for instances of “high VA” behavior, and vice versa. The underlying assumption was

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always that all mothers in the sample might well engage in all types of activities. Thus, researcher efforts were directed at finding where the two groups overlapped and where they were distinct. For example, the provisional category of “mother initiates activity” initially emerged from observation of high VA dyads; there was a stronger tendency for this to occur in those interactions. However, in working through all eight videotapes, it was clear (and expected) that low VA mothers also choose activities. It actually became these points of overlap that continued to drive the analysis presented here. The examination of core activities that occur in both high and low VA dyads, but that are enacted in qualitatively different ways, became the research focus. For the final analysis, the first author retranscribed all instances drawing on the analytic and technical framework of conversation analysis (Sacks, Schegloff, & Jefferson, 1974). This approach constrains the researcher from introducing intuitions into the analysis, the emphasis instead being on “strict and parsimonious structuralism” (Levinson, 1983, p. 295). It is an agnostic approach, designed to allow for patterns of interaction to emerge, not simply from the analyst’s viewpoint, but from the orientations and behaviors of the participants within the interaction.

Results High and low VA mothers displayed different orientations to playtime activities with their children. Although it was quite rare that either group of mothers enacted explicitly verbally aggressive behavior, high VA mothers treated the game-focused activities as tasks to be accomplished, tending to control the choice of activity and the manner in which it is played. In contrast, mothers low in trait VA tended to work synchronously with or in support of their child’s playful pursuits; their verbal and nonverbal action was primarily in the service of advancing the play itself. The basis for drawing this distinction and its implications is developed in the following analysis. The excerpts presented here are examples of behaviors that were common across the 8 interactions examined. We have chosen to juxtapose instances that provide clear contrasts and have organized them under general headings of mother-initiated versus child-initiated activity. This distinction is important because it takes into account the fact that in a play setting both mothers and children can make proposals or bids (vocally or nonvocally) to pursue a particular activity. Qualitative differences emerged in both cases: during mother-initiated activities, high versus low VA mothers varied in the degree to which they controlled how the child engaged with the activity; during child-initiated activities,

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high versus low VA mothers varied in whether they supported (or not) the development of that play activity. The excerpts presented here provide the clearest instances of these contrasts, but we are by no means presenting all available instances given constraints of the space and the printed medium. Additionally, we present examples from different dyads to show that the contrasts we emphasize are not unique to a particular mother but are repeated or contrasted across dyads. In the transcribed excerpts participant names have been changed to pseudonyms; nonverbal actions are described in the right hand column. Transcription symbols are explained in Appendix A. Mother-Initiated Activity In excerpts 1 and 2 (following) we present contrasting cases in which a high VA and a low VA mother initiate activities with their children. The aim here is to demonstrate how commands and suggestions (e.g., directives) are in the service of different activities. In both situations the mother initiates an activity, moving to control the direction of the play, but the low VA mother (excerpt 2) initiates an age-appropriate playful form of competition (a race to put together puzzles). In contrast, the high VA mother directs the child to leave the activity he is engaged in (he became “distracted” by another toy) and return to the one they had started together (assembling shape blocks). Excerpt 1 exemplifies the lack of adjustment to the child’s choice of activity that was common in high VA mothers’ interactions with their children.1 EXCERPT 1 (DYAD 6) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

M: Come on let’s put this back together then you can play with that. I want you to do this first.= Come on. (3.0) C reaches for blue piece. C: (a one) C’s hand grazes green piece. M: >No, that don’t have nothing to M picks up green piece. do with it.< M: Look.= M’s left arm comes up under child’s right and pushes it back. M: =This is what you gotta do. M: You gotta take the shape, C: Yeah. M: and put it where it belo:ngs.=Come on.

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The mother’s initial inclusively formulated suggestion (“let’s put this back together”) is reformulated and upgraded into a simple declarative (lines 1–2) as she explicitly indicates a personal desire for the child to first finish the prior project (“I want you to do this first”). During the brief silence (line 4) and vocalization (line 5) the child is reaching for one of the shape blocks, apparently moving to comply. As he reaches, however, he brushes against another block, causing it to roll slightly. The mother treats this move as correctable: In line 7 she begins by saying “No, that has nothing to do with it,” and then proposes that he watch her do the task. During this verbal rejection of his move to return to the play they had been engaged in, the mother also moves her arm up under the child’s and pushes the child’s arm back (lines 9–11). We characterize this as “physical negative touch” (PNT) as defined by Borrego and colleagues (2004): “any physical touch that is intended to be antagonistic, aversive, hurtful, or restrictive of the . . . child’s activity” (p. 899). The child’s arm goes up in a high arc, possibly indicating a forceful touch, and he moves his arm out of the mother’s trajectory toward the block. In contrast to excerpt 1, in the following (excerpt 2) a low VA mother also takes control of the play period using commands and suggestions, but this mother is setting up and running a puzzle race between herself and her child. The interaction is a fun competition, evidenced by the laughter and giggling. EXCERPT 2 (DYAD 38) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

M: Okay let[‘s have a race. C: [Wait.Wait. M: We’re gonna have a race.

C finishing a puzzle. M hands child another puzzle.

(1.0) M: Do the other- (.) M and child tip puzzles. Momma do this. D[on’t cheat, C reaches for puzzle piece. C: [heh heh M: don’t cheat.On your ma[r:ks, C: [oops. heh heh M: get ready, (0.2) M: You cheat. C poised to place piece. C: heh heh heh heh [heh heh M: [$On your mar:k, get ready,$ get set C: heh heh heh M: Go.

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This low VA mother uses several commands and strong affirmative formulations (e.g., lines 1, 3, 6, 8). In fact, in terms of frequency within this short excerpt, she actually uses more commands than the high VA mother in dyad 6 (above). In addition, the formulations are similar: the low VA mother also initially uses the polite, inclusive form (“Let’s . . .”) in suggesting the race (line 1) and then reformulates this (line 3) into an upgraded, stronger declarative statement (“We’re gonna have a race.”). However, beyond this initial similarity, the additional commands in this excerpt are formulaic for the initiation of a race (e.g., get ready, get set, on your mark, go, etc.), and others are common in playful competition (e.g., don’t cheat). Thus, while this low VA mother is also clearly controlling the play in formulating how she wants the activity to proceed, she is using this kind of language to organize a form of fun or friendly competition. The child is apparently enjoying the anticipation of the race as evidenced by the laughter that begins at line 9 and continues as the race unfolds (lines 11, 15, 18). The distinction between the high VA and the low VA mother’s approaches to organizing activities in this setting is consistent with a distinction noted across interactions: While both high and low VA mothers direct their children and may try to control their children’s activities, for low VA mothers, the play is treated as play, not as a task to be accomplished. The low VA mother in this segment presents a challenge (and a form of teasing) that her child seems to enjoy. The high VA mother (excerpt 1) is simply insisting on a course of activity, one that the child has not been particularly successful at or engaged with. A similar contrast is illustrated in excerpts 3 and 4. In 3, a high VA mother verbally and nonverbally attempts to alter the child’s course of action (toward involvement with other toys). This occurs at the outset of the play period when the mother has chosen a shape sorter for them to play with, but the child is not particularly interested and keeps trying to return to the box of toys. EXCERPT 3 (DYAD 21) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

M: >Come here let mommy show you .
Come right here= Put it right here.
< ___  (.) (1.0) =

Falling, “final” intonation as at the end of a sentence Continuing, “comma” intonation as in speaking a list Rising intonation Sound stretch; usually elongation of a vowel Louder than surrounding talk Reduced volume between these signs Faster speech between these signs (underline) Stressed element Speech between these signs is hearable as higher in pitch Untimed “micropause” (less than half of a second) Timed pause, represented in seconds Talk that is latched, quick continuation; no space or overlap between the utterances [ Marks onset of overlap (hyphen) Speaker cuts off own speech ( ) Transcriber doubt ((sniff)) Untranscribed sound $ (dollar sign) Talk between these signs is with a “smile voice”

Notes 1. We are not suggesting that there is something inappropriate about asking a child to complete an activity or that every bid for new play by the child

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should be followed by the parent. We are simply noting that this high VA mother insists on completion of the prior activity and, more important, that she is impatient with the child’s attempt to get back into the game. 2. We acknowledge that true play is a relative term. Play takes on different forms between parents and children, between children, and so on. The forms of play we see in this publicly viewed laboratory setting may not even be the forms of play mothers and children engage in at home. We therefore use ‘true play’ in terms of the present context only, not in the sense of some actual or truest form of play.

References Ade-Ridder, L., & Jones, A.R. (1996). Home is where the hell is: An introduction to violence against children from a communication perspective. In D. Cahn & S. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 59–84). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Bayer, C., & Cegala, D. (1992). Trait verbal aggressiveness and argumentativeness: Relations with parenting style. Western Journal of Communication, 56, 301–310. Beatty, M. J., Burant, P. A., Dobos, J. A., & Rudd, J. E. (1996). Trait verbal aggressiveness and the appropriateness and effectiveness of fathers’ interaction plans. Communication Quarterly, 44, 1–15. Beatty, M. J., Rudd, J. E., & Valencic, K. M. (1999). A re-examination of the verbal aggressiveness scale: One factor or two? Communication Research Reports, 16, 10–17. Borrego, J., Timmer, S. G., Urquiza, A. J., & Follett, W. C. (2004). Physically abusive mothers’ responses following episodes of child noncompliance and compliance. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 72, 897–903. Bousha, D. M., & Twentyman, C. T. (1984). Mother-child interactional style in abuse, neglect, and control groups: Naturalistic observations in the home. Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 93, 1984. Cahn, D. (2009). An evolving communication perspective on family violence. In D. Cahn (Ed.), Family violence: Communication processes (pp. 1–24). Albany: State University of New York Press. Eyberg, S. N. (2005). Tailoring and adapting parent-child interaction therapy to new populations. Education & Treatment of Children, 28, 197–201. Infante, D. A., & Rancer, A. S. (1996). Argumentativeness and verbal aggressiveness. In B. Burleson (Ed.), Communication Yearbook, 19 (pp. 319–352). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Infante, D. A., & Wigley, C. J. (1986). Verbal aggression: An interpersonal model and measure. Communication Monographs, 53, 61–69.

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Kassing, J. W., Infante, D. A., Pearce, K. J., & Pyles, S. M. (1999). Exploring the communicative nature of corporal punishment. Communication Research Reports, 16, 18–28. Levine, T. R., Beatty, M. J., Limon, S., Hamilton, M. A., Buck, R., & ChoryAssad, R. M. (2004). The dimensionality of the verbal aggressiveness scale. Communication Monographs, 71, 245–268. Levinson, S. C. (1983). Pragmatics. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Morgan, W. M., & Wilson, S. R. (2007). Explaining child abuse as a lack of safe ground. In B. Spitzberg & W. Cupach (Eds.), The dark side of interpersonal communication (2nd ed., pp. 327–362). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Roberto, A. J., Carlyle, K. E., & McClure, L. (2006). Communication and corporal punishment: The relationship between parents’ use of verbal and physical aggression. Communication Research Reports, 23, 27–33. Roberts, F. (2008). Transcribing and transcription. In W. Donsbach (Ed.), International Encyclopedia of Communication, 11 (pp. 5161–5165). Oxford, UK & Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell. Roloff, M. E. (1996). The catalyst hypothesis: Conditions under which coercive communication leads to physical aggression. In D. Cahn & S. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 20–36). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Sabourin, T. C., & Stamp, G. H. (1995). Communication and the experience of dialectical tensions in family life: An examination of abusive and non-abusive families. Communication Monographs, 62, 213–241. Sacks, H., Schegloff, E. A., & Jefferson, G. (1974). A simplest systematics for the organization of turn-taking for conversation. Language, 50, 696–735. Straus, M. A., Hamby, S. L., Finkelor, D, Moore, D. W., & Runyan, D. (1998) Identification of child maltreatment with the parent-child conflict tactics scales: Development and psychometric data for a national sample of American parents. Child Abuse and Neglect, 22, 249–270. Tamis-LeMonda, C. S. Uzgiris, I. C., & Bornstein, M. (2002). Play in parentchild interactions. In M. Bornstein (Ed.), Handbook of Parenting, 2nd ed., vol. 5, Practical Issues in Parenting, Erlbaum, 221–242. Vissing, Y. M., & Baily, W. (1996). Parent-to-child verbal aggression. In D. Cahn & S. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 85–107). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Vissing, Y. M., Straus, M. A., Gelles, R. J., & Harrop, J. W. (1991). Verbal aggression by parents and psychosocial problems of children. Child Abuse & Neglect, 15, 223–238. Wilson, S. R., Morgan, W. M., Hayes, J., Bylund, C., & Herman, A. (2004) Mothers’ child abuse potential as a predictor of maternal and child behaviors during play-time interactions. Communication Monographs, 71, 395–421.

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Wilson, S. R., Shi, X., Tirmenstein, L., Norris, A., & Rack, J. J. (2006). Parental physical negative touch and child noncompliance in abusive, neglectful, and comparison families: A meta-analysis of observational studies. In L. H. Turner & R. West (Eds.), The Family Communication Sourcebook (pp. 237–258). Thousand Oaks, CA. Sage. Wilson, S. R., Roberts, F., Rack, J. J., & Delaney, J. E. (2008). Mothers’ trait verbal aggressiveness as a predictor of maternal and child behavior during play-time interactions. Human Communication Research, 34, 392–422.

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9 Adolescent-to-Parent Abuse Abused Parents’ Perceptions of the Meaning and Goals of Adolescents’ Verbal, Physical, and Emotional Abuse

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Communication between parents and adolescent children is often characterized as being fraught with conflict (Grotevant, 1998; Steinberg, Mounts, Lamborn, & Dornbusch, 1991). In some families, conflicts escalate, and adolescents abuse their parents verbally, physically, or emotionally. Adolescents’ abuse of parents is one of the least understood types of intimate abuse and if it does not result in parricide (children killing parents) (Heide, 1995), it attracts the least amount of publicity. Gallagher (2005) reported, “Of the ten’s of thousands of articles written on family violence over the past 20 years only a few dozen are on children’s violence to parents” (p. 2). The vast majority of literature available does not take into account the parents’ perception of being abused but rather addresses possible causes that lead to abuse— most of which is speculation by popular media. At this point, it is important to clarify why parents would be asked their perception of an abusive adolescents’ goal in an episode leading to abuse. First, family practitioners working with families experiencing adolescent-to-parent abuse turn to parents first and foremost to understand what is taking place in conflicts that escalate to abuse so that they have a starting point of where to begin addressing treatment of adolescents

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(Gallagher, 2004; Omer, 2000). Counselors may not know what questions to ask because they do not have the foundational information from which to ask. Having parents identify their perceptions of adolescents’ conflict/abuse goals allows counselors to ask more specific questions of adolescents. Until research exists that begins to form ground-level theoretical building blocks to this form of abuse, progress will not be made toward helping practitioners identify causes or solve this problem. Because adolescent-to-parent abuse is in its initial stages of development, it makes sense to ask the parents/victims their perception of what is taking place in the abuse. Not to do so would be to invalidate their abusive experience and further silence them. Second, although it would be ideal to include interviews with abusive adolescents about their goals when implementing abuse, this is not realistic. In fact, family counselors reported that “few youths will be honest about their abusive behavior. . . . [E]ven the more open and cooperative (generally younger) children often do not tell me about . . . violence unless prompted by parents” (Gallagher, 2004, p. 98). Some reasons given by counselors for first exploring abusive episodes from the perspective of the parent include (1) teenagers using sessions to put down their parents, (2) the teenager may disrupt the session, and (3) in attempts to engage the whole family, the violence and abuse is often downplayed (Gallagher, 2004). Omer (2000) goes further and warns against involving the young people in an interview session as they will “utilize the sessions as a source of information concerning the parents’ plans so as to neutralize them” (p. 115). A final reason to focus on parents’ perceptions of the abuse episode is that one of the problems in talking with abusive adolescents is that they deny their actions were abusive or that the event took place—even when assault charges are brought against them (Eckstein, 2002). Therapists agree, “Almost anyone who has been abusive will minimize their abusive behavior and once they have told you the sanitized story it may be difficult for them to be honest in the future” (Gallagher, 2004, p. 99). Adolescents often report that parents are “making it up,” and no abuse took place even though parents may have bruises, material possessions destroyed, and the other parent and sibling as witnesses to verify the abuse (Eckstein, 2002, 2004). In fact, “Children who are being violent toward their parents are usually ashamed of it and would prefer to talk about almost anything else” (Gallagher, 2004, p. 100). Because of these issues, this study will focus on understanding the parent-victims’ perception of the goals that they believe are present in conflict episodes leading to adolescent-to-parent abuse.

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Review of Literature In 1979, Harbin and Madden introduced battered parents as the “new syndrome of family violence” (p. 1288). They defined battering as “actual physical assaults or verbal and nonverbal threats of physical harm” (p. 1288) directed toward parents by their adolescent children. Family practitioners expanded the definition to say that “parent abuse is any act of a child that is intended to cause physical, psychological or financial damage to gain power and control over a parent. . . . [T]he abuse normally begins with verbal abuse” (Cottrell, 2004; Gallagher, 2004; Omer, 2004). Researchers who have explored adolescent-to-parent abuse have provided a very general introduction, addressing it briefly in discussions of different types of abuse among intimates (Cornell & Gelles, 1981; Gelles, 1987; Pagelow, 1984; Price, 1996). The areas of social work and psychology have focused the most attention on adolescent-to-parent abuse because of their necessity to counsel families coming to them for help (Cottrell, 2004; Gallagher, 2004; Monk, 1997; Price, 1996). However, to date only a handful of researchers worldwide are presenting information on this form of domestic violence (i.e., Cottrell, Canada; Eckstein, United States; Gallagher, Australia; Omer, Israel; Price, United States). This information is based primarily on case studies of individuals engaged in counseling, and to date, little empirical research has investigated this important family problem; practitioners are frustrated by the lack of awareness, attention, and research given to this problem by family counselors, researchers, and the court systems responsible for sentencing. In families experiencing adolescent-to-parent abuse, two family patterns have been identified: sole mothers being victimized by sons (and some daughters) and two-parent families, often educated, middle-class families, where overentitled youth bully parents (Cottrell, 2004; Eckstein, 2002, 2004; Gallagher, 2004). In a survey of more than 10 million parents, 18% reported being physically abused by one of their children, with nearly half of those abused reporting having experienced severe physical violence at least once per year (Straus, Gelles, & Steinmetz, 1980). Estimated incidents of adolescent-to-parent abuse in two-parent families is between 7–18% and 29% for one-parent families (Downey, 1997; Livingston, 1986; Peek, Fisher, & Kidwell, 1985). Gallagher (2004), who works often with families experiencing adolescent-to-parent abuse cases, believes adolescent-to-parent abuse does not get the attention it deserves: [T]he reasons it is downplayed is because violence toward parents is not usually as dangerous as violence towards wives—serious injuries

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are less common; children don’t usually dominate and subjugate . . . ; it is more likely to be temporary, as children do sometimes grow out of it, or at least leave home; children’s behavior is generally assumed to be directly caused by parents’ behavior so it is the parents’ own fault if they are abused by their child!; children’s behavior problems are “explained” by the use of a pseudo-medical label, which obscures who is actually doing what to whom. So a child is seen as having a “conduct disorder” rather than being a parent abuser. (p. 2)

Although researchers have struggled to determine a more precise number of incidents of adolescent-to-parent abuse, presenting a number is speculation since the vast majority of it remains unreported. The fact that parents often choose not to report abuse because they fear being blamed for their own victimization, or they may even blame themselves for the abusive actions of their children, likely leads to the underreporting of adolescent-to-parent abuse (Cornell & Gelles, 1981; Eckstein, 2002, 2004; Gallagher, 2004; Schuett, 1999). Gelles and Straus (1988) described a “veil of denial,” in which parents avoided talking about abusive episodes, minimized the seriousness of the behavior, did not punish the behavior, and refused to obtain outside help for themselves or their children. Until adolescent-to-parent abuse is acknowledged as a serious problem that is more widespread than acknowledged, abused parents will likely continue to remain silent victims. Family counselors argue, “This form of adolescent violence is common enough to be a serious problem. . . . [M]ost workers I talk to believe it is increasing” (Gallagher, 2004). Adolescent-toparent abuse is a silent and growing problem in need of attention. Defining Abuse Conceptualizing different types of adolescent-to-parent abuse (verbal, emotional, physical) is difficult because of the complexity and multidimensionality of abuse and its existing definitions (Sheehan, 1997). Particularly difficult is delineating verbal and emotional abuse because of their conceptually overlapping nature and the fact that verbal abuse is often present in an emotional abuse episode. However, given that the existing adolescent-to-parent abuse research identifies the presence of different types of abuse, it is important to define and identify the differing types of abuse episodes (Cottrell, 2004; Eckstein, 2002, 2004; Gallagher, 2004: Harbin & Madden, 1979; Marshall, 1994; Price, 1996). 1. Verbal abuse is defined as an attack on another individual accomplished by verbal or symbolic communication. Verbal attacks may center on a specific issue, trait, or past or present action or on social,

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psychological, or emotional “defects” of the other person (Gelles, 1987; Walter, LaGrone, & Atkinson, 1989). 2. Emotional abuse or emotional terrorism occurs when the verbal abuse episode increases in intensity, becomes threatening or manipulative, or attacks an area known by the adolescent to be specifically sensitive to the parent. Price (1996) defined emotional abuse as using the “knowledge of the weakness of others to control, dominate, or exploit them” (p. 10). Emotional abuse in parent-adolescent relationships where physical abuse is also present often causes victims to fear for their safety because “Once violence occurs, the threat of further violence is always present” (Marshall, 1994, p. 293). 3. Physical abuse is defined as an act against a parent resulting in any level of physical harm regardless of intensity and includes hitting, punching, kicking, shoving, pushing, slapping, biting, hitting with an object, breaking an object while threatening to attack, beating up, or attempting to shoot, stab, or strangle a parent. Conflict Communication Goals Wilmot and Hocker (2001) defined interpersonal conflict as “an expressed struggle between at least two interdependent parties who perceive incompatible goals, scarce resources, and interference from others in achieving their goals” (p. 34). Researchers studying and working with adolescent-to-parent abuse cases recognize that escalating conflict often results in abuse. Therefore, how parents may respond in these instances to the conflict/abuse episode may be directly related to their perception of adolescents’ goals for the conflict. Because it has been reported that abused parents attempt to prevent escalation of conflict episodes into abuse, parents’ understanding of why adolescents are engaging in conflict becomes important. Looking across studies, researchers have identified four types of conflict interaction goals: (1) content or instrumental goals, (2) relational goals, (3) identity and face-saving or self-presentation goals, and (4) process goals (Cahn, 1996; Canary & Cody, 1994). These conflict goals are defined as follows: 1. Content (instrumental) goals concern what each person involved in the interaction wants. Conflict occurs when two (or more) people in a relationship want something tangible or intangible that only one person is able to have. 2. Relational goals center on the connections between individuals and the degree of dependence, independence, or interdependence each desires. Conflict results when assumptions and expectations of the relationship differ.

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3. Identity and face-saving goals involve individuals’ wishes to protect face or influence how others view them. People are driven to create and maintain a favorable impression of themselves with others, and when an individual perceives that his or her identity is being questioned, conflict may be used as a face-saving measure. In addition, face issues can be a key in the escalation of the conflict as well as the severity of the conflict episode (Lulofs & Cahn, 2000). 4. Process goals in conflict involve individuals’ ideas about how to act during a conflict episode. For example, one individual may respond to conflict by yelling, while his or her partner withdraws. If individuals have different ideas about how to manage conflict, perhaps because they were socialized differently, a small conflict may escalate (Canary & Cody, 1994; Clark & Delia, 1979; Cupach & Metts, 1994). Conflict goals can have either positive or negative effects on the relationship (Canary & Cody, 1994; Olson, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c; Wilmot & Hocker, 2001). Conflict is destructive when individuals in the conflict feel as if they have lost and as a result are dissatisfied with the outcome. Escalatory and destructive conflict is reported to take on a “life of its own” and continues to impact the relationship in a negative manner, often in future interactions. Individuals’ perception of the goals involved in an escalatory and destructive conflict are important if individuals, in this case parents, are to feel satisfied in the outcome. However, any interaction resulting in abuse is detrimental to interpersonal relationships and can be identified as destructive conflict (Canary & Spitzberg, 1989; Deutsch, 1973; Infante, Sabourin, Rudd, & Shannon, 1990; Lloyd, 1996; Marshall, 1994). Yet what parents perceive the reason to be behind the abuse may contribute to the maintenance of a positive relationship with their adolescent. “Destructive conflict, as you can see, is characterized by expansion—of issues, people, principles and precedents considered to be at stake, costs to the participants, and intensity of negative feelings” (Lulofs & Cahn, 2000, p. 15). Because adolescent-to-parent abuse has a devastating impact on parents and families, parents often try to make sense of the abusive behavior. Abused parents often ask and try to answer the question, “Why would my teen do this?” Conflict in family relationships is especially complex because hidden or underlying goals may serve as catalysts for abuse (McKenry & Price, 1994; Olson, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c; Sillars & Weisberg, 1987). Recognizing how parents seek to make sense of abusive episodes requires analysis of their thorough descriptions of the episodes and perceptions of the conflict goals. This chapter will use the existing and well-developed literature on relational conflict and apply it to a specific situational context—adoles-

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cent-to-parent abuse; doing this will allow a much deeper and accurate understanding of the dynamics of families experiencing conflict episodes that result in abuse. Rather than focus on what these findings add to the strong and established conflict literature, the real question is what can the well-developed relational conflict literature contribute to understanding adolescent-to-parent abuse? Therefore, the following research question guides this study: What conflict interaction goals do parents perceive as being present in adolescent-to-parent verbal, physical, and emotional abuse episodes?

Methods Participants Participants were 20 Caucasians (males=7; females=13) who had been verbally and physically and emotionally abused by an adolescent child (age 10–17) who was living at home. Parents ranged in age from 35 to 55 (m=42). These families averaged 3.4 children, and 19 of the 20 families had only one child who was abusive. Nine of the participants were in first marriages and had been married an average of 25 years. Another 9 were in second marriages, with a mean of 9 years. Two were divorced at the time of the interview. Thirteen participants had been abused by their biological children, 5 by their stepchildren, and 2 by their adopted children. Each of the participants had participated in numerous types of family counseling programs. The sample was located through a parent network consisting of parents who were having “severe” trouble with an adolescent. The abused parents were contacted and screened via phone to determine whether they met the criterion. The discussion of this project within the parent network served as a catalyst, and other individuals were referred or came forward to participate in the study. Through this snowball sampling method, 13 participants were located. The final 7 participants were located through a social worker who taught court-ordered parenting classes. Data Collection and Analysis A number of family violence researchers have successfully used the interview method (Lloyd, 1996; Olson, 2002a, 2002b; Wood, 2004). Interviews are the best alternative in cases where the researcher’s observation of the phenomenon is not possible (Metts, Sprecher, & Cupach, 1991), as in the parent-abuse situation. Interviews allow participants the opportunity to

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explain in depth specific verbal, emotional, and physical abuse episodes (Metts et al., 1991). Semistructured, open-ended interviews were conducted (Holstein & Gubrium, 1995; McCracken, 1988), using retrospective questions that asked each participant to explain. While one of the concerns of using retrospective self reports in the interview process is the participants’ ability to accurately recall specific communication incidents, Meill (1987) argued that people were accurate in recalling past episodes of relationships and able to explain in their own words what took place in a particular relationship episode. When done well, the interview has the unique capability to take researchers into the experience of the individual, help researchers understand how individuals view their world, and help situate the phenomenon in a fuller social and cultural context (McCracken, 1988). The structured interview provided consistency between interviews and made sure certain questions were asked. Participants were also free to bring up other issues at varying times in the interview process. Before beginning, and again during the interview, the three different definitions of the types of abuse were clearly defined for the participants. After parents described a specific abuse episode, the question was followed by secondary questions focusing on other issues under consideration for the study. Parents were asked, “Why do you think they used verbal abuse in this instance? What do you think their purpose or goal was?” The use of secondary and probing questions helped the participants provide full descriptions of each type of abuse episode. Qualitative researchers are always faced with how many interviews to do. Theoretical saturation occurs when no new categories or themes emerge from the interviews (Leininger, 1994). Using within-group comparisons, saturation occurred early. However, I continued to interview and analyze the data from all 20 parents who had volunteered to participate. Interviews were audio recorded and lasted 1 hour to 1 hour thirty minutes. A professional was hired to transcribe the interviews, which yielded 753 pages of 1.5–spaced data. Data analysis involved using Glaser and Strauss’s constant comparative method (Lindlof, 1995; Strauss & Corbin, 1990). For rigor in the analysis process emergent categories were evaluated against other data collected for the project as well as from other studies done on the issue, often alternating between analytic induction and deduction (Baxter & Babbie, 2004; Creswell, 1998; Taylor & Trujillo, 2001). The experiences of the participants were compared for recurring themes. For data coding purposes, analytic memos were written to identify and define themes; subcategories were developed until all the data were classified. The themes that evolved were consistent with issues that emerged in a previous pilot study as well as in other studies by adolescent-to-parent abuse researchers.

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Data were analyzed in three phases. First, the transcripts were listened to and read in their entirety to verify the accuracy of transcription, develop an overall picture of the participants’ perceptions, and start the analysis process (Huberman & Miles, 1998). Second, based on procedures of grounded theory, analysis moved back and forth between emerging themes and relevant scholarship, allowing the data to guide reading and the reading to shape the understanding of the data (Creswell, 1998; Strauss, 1987). As a result, the four conflict interaction goals—content, relational, process, and identity (Canary & Cody, 1994; Wilmot & Hocker, 2001)—were used to begin the analysis of these data. Parents’ perceptions of these conflict goals and suprathemes were identified as present in adolescent-to-parent verbal, physical, and emotional abuse episodes. Cases that did not clearly fit this typology of conflict goals were set aside for further analysis. Third, the discrepant cases were analyzed inductively, and patterns emerged naturally from the interviewees’ comments (Creswell, 1998; Miles & Huberman, 1994). Finally, guided by the research question, data were reexamined to double-check for the presence or absence of perceived goals in an adolescent-to-parent abuse episode. In this step, the transcripts were read again, looking for any disconfirmation of the analysis and to locate exemplars for this research report (Miles & Huberman, 1994; notations from interview transcripts are cited by participant number). Current literature on adolescent-to-parent abuse and conflict was consulted to confirm or disconfirm the analysis. Finally, a member check (Creswell, 1998) was performed by presenting the conclusions to 8 of the participants in written form. These participants confirmed the interpretation and credibility of the analysis and stressed the consistency of these themes, discussing how similar the findings were to their own experiences and stories.

Results Using the conflict typology identified by previous researchers made it possible to categorize the different conflict goals these parents reported in the interviews. As these data were analyzed, it became evident that parents perceived different adolescent conflict goals as being present in the different types of abuse (verbal, physical, and emotional). Conflict Goals in Verbal Abuse As in many conflict episodes, conflict goals overlap with one goal overshadowing another at different times during the conflict process. These

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parents’ accounts revealed the presence of all four conflict goals during episodes of verbal abuse by adolescents: content, relational, identity, and process. Content Goals. The first goal identified in verbal abuse episodes was the content goal; most parents (85%) reported adolescents wanted objects (e.g., money, drugs, computer games), free time, the ability to go when and where they pleased, or the ability to see whatever persons they desired. When parents did not give in to their wishes, they responded by swearing episodes that included name-calling. One mother described what occurred when she tried to prevent her 16-year-old son from going to a party: He called me a fuckin’ bitch, a whore, a moron, all sorts of really nice names. . . . So what led up to this, basically . . . [was] me, actually doing the things that a typical—I believe a mother should do—know the whereabouts of their kids; say “no” to them at times, “No, you can’t go someplace, or no, you’re not going to be at this party; or no, you’re going to be home on time. . . . No you can’t have that.”

Although all adolescents may attempt to achieve their content goals through conflict, most do not escalate the conflict to the point of verbally abusing their parents in the extreme manner these adolescents did. Winning, or the desire to get their own way no matter what, was often the instigating factor in verbal abuse, as this parent described: “The goal was to win the argument. To do what he wanted to do. If he got to the point where he knew we weren’t giving in, then it turned into verbal abuse. Because it didn’t matter anyway and it was his last chance.” Although adolescents may have wanted tangible items, they could also want something intangible, such as a specific parent reaction. At times, parents (55%) believed their adolescents wanted to get them to react, even to fight with each other. A father explained this aspect of the content goal: “To get me and the old lady fighting so that way I ended up leaving, is what I think a lot of it [was].” These parents assumed that abusive adolescents used verbal abuse to escalate a conflict until the parents lost control, identifying this as a way for adolescents to gain what they wanted within the family. Additionally, many of the parents expressed the belief that adolescents verbally abused them as a last attempt to get something or to get their own way before escalating the conflict to either physical or emotional abuse. Identity Goals. Many parents (60%) also believed that adolescents used verbal abuse to save face and control their parents’ perception of them and

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their behavior both in and outside of the home. These parents thought their adolescents used verbal abuse to obtain or control the parents’ understanding of a situation, or to communicate how they were feeling about school, peers, or family issues. For example, one parent reflected: I think that with—for his age and the peers that he had, it was a typical way to express himself, to use profanity. So, he kind of let his guard drop and was just speaking from emotion, he wasn’t thinking about the words he was using.

Parents (60%) also thought that verbal abuse became a way for adolescents to express that they did not care about the rules or the family; they were going to do what they wanted when they wanted to do it. A father explained: In my mind I see it as, well, he got to the point he knew we weren’t giving in, so then it turned into a verbal abuse to us. And then it didn’t matter, at that point. It was more or less, “f” you, whatever. . . . So, he’d be, in his mind he’d say, “Screw you, I’m going anyway.”

Parents believed that adolescents view having to do what a parent said as a loss of face, so they used verbal abuse to reestablish their identity as a grown-up. Relational Goals. Parents also identified relational goals in verbal abuse episodes. These goals involved interplay among their independence, interdependence, and dependence on parents. Parents (90%) believed that abusive adolescents wanted to control their own lives and establish independence and at the same time also used verbal abuse to test their parents’ love and commitment to them (45%) and their place in the family: I think we became, actually, a safe place for him to express his anger, because he knew we weren’t going to throw him out of the house. He knew we loved him. He knew we cared about him, so he knew he would say the meanest, most hurtful things. It was probably the only place he felt safe enough to express his rage. And I don’t want to say “anger,” I want to say “rage” that he was feeling.

An expansion of this thought was expressed by parents who assumed that their reaction to the verbal abuse signaled to the adolescent that they cared enough about the parent-child relationship to fight with the teenager. For example, one parent said:

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And, unfortunately, backing off from the verbal contact with him, he saw as a means of us backing off from our closeness in the relationship. Because when he was—when we were engaging him, I think he saw that as we cared, and [when] we quit engaging him I think he saw that as we were giving up, and we quit caring.

At the same time, these parents perceived that adolescents used verbal abuse as an attempt to push their parents away emotionally, testing to see if their parents would continue to love them even when they were acting unlovable. One mother recalled, “I think, you know, she was always trying to make me not love her and not be there for her. . . . And so she tried to exhibit some of the worst behavior to make me not love her.” Parents found both of these scenarios equally distressing and indicated that they often felt it necessary to provide an affirming and reassuring response to the verbal abuse when they sensed the adolescent was testing their unconditional love. It was very clear that verbally abused parents felt torn, feeling anger and hurt at being abused by their adolescents yet wanting to show love and concern for the teens’ emotional welfare. In addition, parents (60%) noted that teens might have used verbal abuse to express frustration at not having the kind of autonomy they desired in different situations. Parents perceived that adolescents wanted to be seen as independent in making decisions, so not being given permission to do something frustrated and angered them so much that they could express the extent of their the rage and frustration only through verbal abuse of the parent. Finally, parents believed that adolescents may try to establish independence in the relationship by hurting the parent through verbal abuse. Parents supposed that adolescents attempted to hurt them by choosing words they knew would bother their parents. A mother reported, “Well, I think the verbal abuse is just to make you feel bad, you know. I think that they want you to hurt. . . . And I think lots of times they’ll do that out of—to make you feel bad.” Parents perceived that adolescents were trying to make their parents feel as hurt as they did at not being trusted, not having freedom to do what they wanted, or not being treated as an adult. One mother explained her adolescent’s goal in verbal abuse situations as “I believe to hurt me as much as he felt hurt, I guess.” Although parents reported feeling sad that their abusive adolescents would communicate to them in this hurtful way, verbal abuse also provoked anger. Most of the participants (90%) reported that their sadness was accompanied, and eventually replaced, by anger toward their teens. Process Goals. Parents also identified process goals as possible reasons adolescents verbally abused them. For example, many wanted to sit

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down with the adolescent and calmly discuss a situation, whereas the adolescent wanted to yell and swear. In other instances, verbal abuse allowed adolescents to continue or prolong the interaction until they were ready to stop. Finally, verbal abuse was also used to redirect the argument and get the focus off the issue at hand. A father explained: In fact, typically, whenever he would be caught off guard or we would find out about something he would want to keep a secret, his method of dealing with it was to become very angry and lose control rather than face up to the situation we were actually talking about.

In other words, rather than addressing the broken rule, discovered lie, or other wrongdoing, parents (55%) reported, adolescents would use verbal abuse to redirect parents’ attention to the language being used or the disrespect being shown. All participants reported that verbal abuse preceded other forms of abuse—physical and emotional. In the following section, we present the conflict goals abused parents believed were present in conflict episodes that resulted in physical abuse. Conflict Goals in Physical Abuse Adolescent-to-parent physical abuse is defined as acts that result in any level of physical harm against a parent. Such physical abuse may include what researchers consider normal or legitimate violence, such as slapping or shoving. Analysis of these data revealed the perception of the four conflict goals in adolescent-to-parent physical abuse episodes: content, relational, identity, and process. Content Goals. Parents (80%) identified the content goal as recurring in adolescent-to-parent physical abuse episodes. This included physically grabbing or getting back an item the parent had taken away. For example: His motives are always to gain for himself, to get what he wants. And if you don’t give in to what he wants, or whatever, then he explodes and stuff and tries to get what he wants, otherwise he gets mad and abusive.

The outcome of enactment of content goals in physical abuse was simple: The adolescent either did or did not receive what he or she wanted from parents.

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Relational Goals. Adolescent-to-parent physical abuse included a number of relational goals. Parents (60%) believed that adolescents wanted to establish rights in the parent-adolescent relationship, such as being treated with respect and being allowed to make their own decisions, using physical abuse to intimidate their parents, test the limits and rules, and reassure themselves that their parents continued to be in control. These parents reported that adolescents tested to see if parents enforced family rules, trying to determine how much physical abuse parents would take before changing the rule, hitting back, or calling the police. One mother reported: And I remember one time I was washing dishes, and him and I were talking about him not being able to go out with his friends that night. He walked up to me and started punching me really, really hard in the arm, and my arm got numb. I tried to get away from him by going around the table and putting it between us, but he kept running after me punching me really hard. He kept saying, “What are you going to do? Call the police? I am only hitting you not beating you up. They are not going to do anything.” He didn’t realize that he was about a hundred pounds bigger than me and a hell of a lot stronger, and I was crying ’cause it hurt so bad. That made him even madder ’cause he thought I was just faking the crying. . . . I called the police, and in the time it took them to get there he had started slapping me and punching me on my back as well.

Upon reflection, some parents believed that their abusive adolescents wanted to be forced to follow the family guidelines, thus assuring their participation and roles within the family. Identity Goals. Identity goals, particularly facework, emerged in adolescent-to-parent conflict that escalated into physical abuse. Parents (25%) believed the adolescents were using physical abuse to break free of limits and structure. One father illustrated what he believed to be the goal of his son’s physical abuse: “It was a combination of trying to protect his rights, do what he wanted, and protecting his turf, because I had no business in his room or finding out what was going on in his room.” Based on the descriptions provided, parents (55%) also assumed that adolescents used physical abuse to save face when they perceived control had been taken from them. A mother described a situation when her adolescent pursued her with a baseball bat: And once he had the bat in his hand, I don’t think there was a gentle way for him to put it down, because of his brother and sister and, you

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know. I think it would have been hard for him to put it down and save face. And I think that’s important for him because his self-esteem is not good. . . . And so I think that he didn’t have any way to back down.

Interestingly, an abusive adolescent’s attempt to save face or to back down from a physically abusive episode was often assisted by outside intervention. In some instances, the parent would threaten to or would actually call the police. Threatened or real police intervention often stopped the physical abuse, preventing the teenager from getting into more severe trouble with the legal system. Many of the parents (65%) believed that their abusive adolescents wanted the police called because they could not bring themselves to back away from the conflict; the police provided the teens with an excuse to stop the physically abusive episode. Process Goals. Process goals also emerged as perceived reasons adolescents used physical abuse: Physically forcing the parent to sit down or stay in the room assured the continuation of the interaction. Some of the parents (45%) stated that their abusive adolescents seemed to enjoy the challenge of intense argument and used physical means to extend the interaction. The process goal was evident when adolescents responded physically to attempts to move them out of the way or to prevent them from coming closer. One participant explained how this scenario played out: And I remember this time I go to where I said, “The discussion is over.” I said, “We’ve been arguing about this.” I said, “I’m done discussing this.” And I got up to leave . . . and it was the first time he ever got up and stood in front of me. And I realized at that point that this was something different. That he was threatening me. And I said, “Move.” And he wouldn’t get out of my way. So I tried to walk around him, and he stepped over in front of me, so I couldn’t get around. . . . And I put my hands out on his chest, because he’s very big, and he was in my space. And when I’m talking about in my space, he’s a couple of inches from my face, and I put my hand against his chest to keep him from getting closer to me and to try to gently push him out of the way. And to him that was a sign of aggression, and he took his—he just took me and he sent me . . . flying across the room, and I ended up . . . dazed and laid there.

This example points directly to the conflict goal of process: The parent sought to end discussion of the conflict by physically departing, and the adolescent sought to continue the episode by physically restraining the

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parent. Parents indicated that adolescents used physical abuse to control when and how the conflict episode would end. Being able physically to prevent a parent from leaving the room or pushing a parent out of the way provided abusive adolescents with the power to control the conflict episode. Consequently, the conflict escalated from verbal to physical abuse. Conflict Goals in Emotional Abuse Adolescent-to-parent emotional abuse is defined as threatening or carrying out acts of cruelty and involves using the knowledge of a parent’s weakness to control, manipulate, or exploit the parent in order to cause emotional harm or to dominate him or her. Parents perceived that abusive adolescents had different goals for emotional abuse episodes than for either verbally or physically abusive episodes. Two conflict goals emerged in episodes of adolescent-to-parent emotional abuse: relational and identity. Relational Goals. The first conflict goal identified by parents in adolescent-to-parent emotional abuse was the relational goal. Parents (60%) perceived that emotional abuse often contained hidden requests for help, affection, or attention: “You know, that maybe some of . . . those behaviors that he did that were so aggravating beforehand were just, ‘I need help. I don’t know how to ask,’ you know, ‘I need help. Something is wrong,’ you know” (2). Most of the parents (80%) believed that the adolescent was using abuse as an indirect way of managing or obtaining relational needs from the parents. Sometimes adolescents’ pleas for help, affection, or attention occurred in a very direct manner, such as threatening to commit suicide. According to one mother: and then their final out would be, “Okay, I’m going to kill myself.” And then I would break—not break down emotionally, but then I sat. [Parent response]: “Well, why do you want to kill yourself? Don’t you know how many people you would hurt?” [Adolescent response]: “I don’t care. I don’t care.” [Parent response]: “Well, I care.” So then I started softening up and then—you know, yeah, I would start crying, saying, “I would care, I would miss you. I love you.”

The majority of participants (90%) noted that these types of exchanges were common during emotionally abusive episodes, and they often responded by expressing concern, affection, and reaffirmation of the adolescent’s worth. Related to this was parents’ belief that emotionally abusive adolescents wanted their parents to know how much they were hurting inside

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and to get the parents to feeling the same way. For example, one parent expressed, “One thing I think might be he feels bad, so he’s trying to make other people feel bad, too.” One parent described a situation in which the adolescent asked, “Why did you ever have me born?” And his goal was, I think he felt bad about himself, and he was taking it out on us. If he’s going to feel bad tonight then he wanted us to feel bad with him. He wanted us to be able to share in that badness, that sadness or that anger that he had. It was very sad. It was very, very sad.

Many of the parents (50%) reported being discouraged that their adolescents were feeling this way, and they saw the emotional abuse not as a means to hurt them but as a sign of how emotionally troubled the adolescents were. Other times parents (40%) believed that adolescents used abusive interaction to express their feelings of betrayal and hurt after their parents sent them to treatment facilities or detention centers. One mother who had sent her son to a facility described a conflict during which her son called the police and accused his parents of child abuse. After she and her husband spent the night in jail, she reflected: “I think he knew that would be emotionally very traumatic for me to—you know, it was like, ‘I’m going to put you in jail so you can see how I felt when you put me in the [name] shelter.’” This exemplar and others like it imply that parents believe that the only way some adolescents can express their pain over being removed from the home is to inflict the same type of pain upon the parents. Identity Goals. The identity goal also emerged in adolescents’ emotional abuse of parents. Participants (85%) believed that when their abusive adolescents felt they had “lost” on a particular issue and wanted to save face, they used emotional abuse to reestablish autonomy or a one-up position in the relationship. A father explained: The emotional abuse usually comes after some verbal abuse over an argument. And maybe—it’s almost like, when he starts the emotional abuse, he has surrendered on the issue that was [making him] unhappy. He knows that he’s in the wrong or he’s not going to win the battle with verbal abuse, so the only thing left for him is, I want to say saving face, but that’s not it. But something to that effect . . . is to try and throw a couple of blows, emotional.

Participants perceived that adolescents with low self-esteem implemented conflict to reinforce their own identity. Using abuse to put down the parent(s) enabled the adolescents to be in the one-up position and

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thus more in control of the situation. Being more in control enabled the adolescents to be more independent of the parents as well. At times parents (30%) viewed the adolescent’s desire to hurt them as the catalyst behind an episode of emotional abuse. The parents believed that when adolescents got them to shift their focus to defending themselves or their actions, the abusive adolescents did not have to face the issue or consequences of their actions. By making parents feel guilty for their parenting skills, their beliefs, or their role in the inappropriate behavior, the parents believed the teens did not have to take responsibility for their own behavior or for the hurt inflicted on the parents. Parents explained that adolescents used emotional abuse to manipulate parental responses. One mother illustrated: And I wasn’t really seeing what was going on right away, and she was able to push my buttons . . . and . . . she was making personal attacks, too, you know, about my quality of motherhood and parenting and all of that. So, I took a lot of it personally, and I would get so beaten down at times that it would get to the point where I didn’t care anymore. You know, I would just let her go on because I just couldn’t deal with it any longer at that point in time. (10)

The vast majority of the participants (90%) in our study had spent considerable time reflecting on reasons why their adolescents might be abusing them. Not all of them perceived that the adolescents’ goals focused on hurting or controlling them; they also perceived this to be one way these adolescents asked for help.

Discussion From the point of view of parents, abusive adolescents have content, relational, identity, and process goals that may result in parental abuse. Although all four of the goals were present in two of the three types of abuse (verbal, physical, and emotional), not all were present in emotional abuse. Abused parents described specific goals that they perceived their adolescents had in conflict situations that led to abuse. Six main findings provide a starting point for understanding adolescent-to-parent verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. To use these results meaningfully, professionals and parents need to reflect on these conflict goals and search for ways to prevent conflict interactions from becoming abusive. First, although different types of conflict goals are present in each of the specific types of abuse episodes, these goals are not mutually exclu-

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sive. Parental perception of an adolescent’s goal in a conflict influenced the parents’ response as well as the effect of the abuse on the parents. For example, when parents perceived that the goal of verbal abuse was the adolescent’s attempt to “get his/her own way” (content goal), they were more likely to tolerate the verbal abuse than to give in to the adolescent’s wishes. When they perceived that verbally abusive episodes were used to save face or gain power, often they were not willing to give up their parental power and, as a result, were likely to tolerate the verbal abuse. Because these parents also view verbal abuse as a precursor to physical and emotional abuse, parents may give in to the adolescent’s demand.

Interestingly, identifying identity goals in verbally abusive episodes does not support the assertion that individuals attempt to save face by using polite language and respectful tones. Validating an individual’s positive social identity in a manner that attempts to save face provides future opportunity for relationship maintenance and positive conflict interactions (Brown & Levinson, 1987; Cupach & Metts, 1994; TingToomey, 1994) but parents did not describe abusive adolescents as being concerned with this. Instead, parents reported that adolescents sought to save face by using abusive language, which created a negative social identity. Obviously, parents did not perceive verbal abuse as a tool for relational maintenance; rather they believed that adolescents used verbal abuse to facilitate disengagement from the relationship, to make them feel bad, and to attempt to force the parents to engage in the conflict. Second, parents reported that content, relational, process, and identity conflict goals emerged during episodes of physical abuse. This finding supports conflict researchers’ arguments that specific goals in conflict episodes are not only identifiable but are also multifaceted (Canary & Cody, 1994; Clark & Delia, 1979; Cupach & Metts, 1994; Wilmot & Hocker, 2001). Important to note is that parents reported that they rarely defended themselves physically (due to legal ramifications). Nor did they always have the physically abusive adolescent removed from the home. It may be that abused parents have difficulty acknowledging that their adolescent might want to intentionally physically harm them. Although this may be rationalization on the part of abused parents, it also helps explain why they continue to hope for improvement in the relationship. Parents appear to view physical abuse as a result of the escalation of conflict rather than as an intentional attempt to inflict injury. The physical abuse is seen as a result of, rather than the goal of, the episode. Physical abuse caused by adolescents’ anger at not achieving a conflict goal is a form of expressive violence rather than instrumental violence and supports Gelles’s (1987) family violence typology.

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Third, in situations of emotional abuse, parents described their adolescents as pursing relational and identity goals. The theme of hurting was present in emotional abuse but not in physical abuse. Parents perceived that adolescents considered physically hurting the parent as unacceptable, whereas emotionally abusing them may have seemed acceptable if the abusive adolescent appeared to see it as the only way to get help or attention. This conclusion is supported by Gelles’s (1987) concept of the ‘instrumental dimension’ of family violence, where abuse is intended to coerce another family member to implement a certain act or behavior. If abused parents are correct in assuming that abusive adolescents use emotional abuse as a plea for help, then parents can use this as an impetus to seek professional help for both the adolescent and other family members. The fact that adolescents did not seem to worry about harming their relationship with parents when engaging in emotional abuse may be explained by adolescents’ belief that, no matter what family members do or how they act, the adolescents will always be part of the family (Galvin & Brommel, 2004). Although parents’ relationships with abusive adolescent children may not be as close and intimate as the abused parents would like, from their own reports, at least, the abused parents’ commitment to maintaining the family remains a primary reason they try to sustain the relationship with the adolescent even when they are being abused. Fourth, the enactment of, and goals in, adolescent-to-parent abuse episodes may be progressive in nature. Although an episode that begins as verbal abuse may seem to center on an adolescent’s attempt to get his or her own way (content), when the parent does not give in, the apparent goal of the conflict may change. Parents reported that when they denied the adolescent’s request, the adolescent used physical or emotional abuse to save face or emotionally hurt the parent. This finding helps explain why adolescents may move from verbal to physical and emotional abuse and can clarify the multiplicity of goals identified in adolescent-to-parent abuse episodes. For example, if a parent is unwilling to give in to an initial demand in a verbal abuse episode, he or she may be able to anticipate the adolescent’s identity goal and help the adolescent to save face in the conflict episode, thus preventing physical or emotional abuse. Fifth, the assertion that escalatory spirals pervade destructive conflict is evident in adolescent-to-parent abuse episodes. Escalatory conflict spirals move upward and are characterized by a heavy reliance on many of the same characteristics of adolescent-to-parent abuse—overt power manipulation, threats, coercion, and deception (Deutsch, 1973). If conflict spirals out of control, as in the case of abuse, relationships

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are either damaged or destroyed. This could be one of the key reasons why parents are concerned with trying to evaluate the goals of abusive adolescents during conflict episodes: All of these parents were concerned not only with preventing escalation of conflict into abuse but also with creating and attempting to maintain positive relationships with their children. In a destructive escalatory cycle of conflict, one of the individuals is intent on changing the structure, restricting choices, or gaining advantage over the other (Wilmot & Hocker, 2001). Based on these data, parents wondered if their adolescents may have a deliberate goal of intentionally hurting them, either emotionally or psychologically. This struggle intensifies as the conflict continues and the relationship begins to disintegrate. The aspect of intentionality becomes important as parents determine how to respond to the episode and their relationship with the adolescent. This struggle intensifies as the conflict/abuse episodes continue and the relationship begins to disintegrate. If parents believe that the destructive cycle of conflict leading to abuse is not normal, then determining the goals present in the conflict/abuse situation allows parents to make sense of what is happening to them. Because the best “index of destructive conflict is that one or both parties have a strong desire to get even or damage the other party” (Wilmot & Hocker, 2001, p. 53), and the parents in these data did not seem to have that desire, the abused parents’ perceived goals of their adolescents in these types of episodes allows parents the opportunity to seek help for the family. Finally, traces of the dialectical theory (Baxter & Montgomery, 1996) are evidenced in these data. Although most discussion regarding dialectical theory pertains to couples, parents and adolescents can be seen as being engaged in an autonomy-connection struggle, adolescents seeking independence from parental control over their lives and parents seeking to continue to protect, discipline, and guide their children’s behavior. From this perspective, change occurs as individuals in a parent-child relationship attempt to adjust to the demands of allowing children to grow up and yet still maintaining parental responsibility over their choices. One way parents may deal with this tension is to attempt to understand the goal of the conflict-turned-abuse: What is it that their teens really want? If parents are able to perceive that the goal of the adolescent is wanting to control their identity or to gain more freedom, parents may be more willing to accept the abuse as a form of expressive rather than instrumental violence. This understanding by parents may allow them to maintain positive relational affect toward their adolescents, thus not damaging the relationship and seeking ways to teach the adolescents how to express themselves more appropriately or even becoming more willing to acquiesce to their adolescents requests.

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Limitations and Future Research Researching abused parents’ perceptions of adolescents’ goals in abuse episodes created several limitations. First, the sample was limited to parents who were willing to talk to researchers about abuse at the hands of their own children. Moving off campus to locate participants and looking for specialized populations is certainly a challenge for researchers, especially when trying to locate parents who will admit to being abused and who are willing to be interviewed. Although it is a strength that participants in this study were from varying types of homes (e.g., intact, single parent, adoptive, biological), the complexities associated with these different family circumstances also present a number of potentially confounding issues (e.g., anger at a divorce or resentment of stepparent or adoptive parents). Although the narratives of the abuse episodes were amazingly similar across family types, and the conflict goals were consistently identifiable, the possibility of mediating factors in each of these different family forms cannot be dismissed. The purpose in this study was not to identify causes of abuse but rather to identify parents’ perceptions of adolescents’ communicative conflict goals; it is important to recognize that the different family types used in the sample present both limitations to the findings and opportunities for future researchers. Future researchers will also need to consider cultural issues that affect the different families. Second, these data represent the self-reported perceptions of the parents, and there are limitations to all self-report data. The interviews represent whatever these abused parents were able and willing to disclose. Saturation was reached after only nine interviews, and the data from this group of parents were strikingly consistent. Also, each abuse episode is reported from only one perspective, and the parental victim represents only one voice in the family system; it is important for scholars and clinicians to understand the perceptions of all members of the abusive family: abusive adolescent, siblings, and extended family. Finally, adolescent-to-parent abuse is only one aspect of the larger adolescent-parent relationship. During the interviews, all abused parents identified positive aspects of the adolescent and the relationship. Because I asked participants to focus on specific episodes of abuse, the interviews did not provide a picture of the overall relationship or communicative interactions within the family system. As interdisciplinary studies of adolescent-parent abuse are undertaken, many other facets are necessary to understand this phenomenon: What personality traits do these adolescents and parents possess? Is there a relationship between parents’ and adolescents’ attachment styles and communication in these families?

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What role does verbal aggressiveness and argumentativeness play in the escalation of conflict resulting in abuse? However we move forward from here, it is critical that researchers do all they can to find information that may help treat and alleviate adolescent-to-parent abuse.

References Baxter, L. A., & Babbie, E. (2004). The basics of communication research. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth. Baxter, L. A., & Montgomery, B. M. (1996). Relating: Dialogues & dialectics. New York: Guildford. Brown, P., & Levinson, S. (1987). Politeness: Some universals in language usage. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Cahn, D. D. (1996). Family violence from a communication perspective. In D. D. Cahn & S. A. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 1–19). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Canary, D. J., & Cody, M. J. (1994). Interpersonal communication: A goals approach. New York: St. Martin’s. Canary D. J., & Spitzberg, B. H. (1989). Appropriateness and effectiveness perceptions of conflict strategies. Human Communication Research, 14, 93–118. Clark, M. L., & Delia, J. G. (1979). Topoi and rhetorical competence. Quarterly Journal of Speech, 65, 187–206. Cornell, C. P., & Gelles, R. J. (1981, November). Adolescent to parent violence. Paper presented at the annual meetings of the American Society of Criminology, Washington, DC. Cottrell, B. (2004). When teens abuse their parents. Halifax, Nova Scotia: Fernwood. Creswell, J. Q. (1998). Qualitative inquiry and research design: Choosing among five traditions. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Cupach, W. R., & Metts, S. (1994). Facework. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Deutsch, M. (1973). The resolution of conflict: Constructive and destructive processes. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Downey, L. (1997). Adolescent violence: A systemic and feminist perspective. Australia & New Zealand Journal of Family Therapy, 18, 70–79. Eckstein, N. J. (2002). Adolescent-to-parent abuse: A communicative analysis of conflict processes present in verbal, physical, or emotional abuse of parents. Unpublished dissertation. University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Eckstein, N. J. (2004). Emergent issues in families experiencing adolescent-toparent abuse. Western Journal of Communication, 68, 365–388.

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Gallagher, E. (2004). Parents victimized by their children. Australia and New Zealand Journal of Family Therapy, 25, 1–12. Gallagher, E. (2005). Eddie Gallagher’s Web Page. Retrieved June 15, 2005. http://www.eddiegallagher.id.au/. Galvin, K. M., & Brommel, B. J. (2004). Family communication: Cohesion and change. New York: Addison, Wesley, Longman. Gelles, R. J. (1987). The violent home. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Gelles, R. J., & Straus, M. A. (1988). Intimate violence. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster. Grotevant, H. D. (1998). Adolescent development in family contexts. In W. Damon (Series Ed.), Handbook of child psychology, vol. 3: Social, emotional, and personality development (pp. 1097–1149). Harbin, H. T., & Madden, D. J. (1979). Battered parents: A new syndrome. American Journal of Psychiatry, 136, 1288–1291. Heide, K. M. (1995). Why kids kill parents: Child abuse and adolescent homicide. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Holstein, J. A., & Gubrium, J. F. (1995). The active interview. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Huberman, A. M., & Miles, M. B. (1998). Data management and analysis methods. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Collecting and interpreting qualitative materials (pp. 179–210). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Infante, D. A., Sabourin, T. C., Rudd, J. E., & Shannon, A. (1990). Verbal aggression in violent and nonviolent marital disputes. Communication Quarterly, 38, 361–371. Leininger, M. (1994). Evaluation criteria and critique of qualitative research studies. In J. M. Morse (Ed.), Critical issues in qualitative research methods (pp. 95–115). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lindlof, T. R. (1995). Qualitative communication research methods. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Livingston, L. R. (1986). Children’s violence to single mothers. Journal of Sociology and Social Welfare, 13, 920–933. Lloyd, S. A. (1996). Physical aggression, distress, and everyday marital interaction. In D. Cahn & S. Lloyd (Eds.), Family violence from a communication perspective (pp. 177–198). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Lulofs, R. S., & Cahn, D. D. (2000). Conflict: From theory to action. Boston, MA: Allyn and Bacon. Marshall, L. L. (1994). Physical and psychological abuse. In W. R. Cupach & B. H. Spitzberg (Eds.), The dark side of interpersonal communication (pp. 281–311). Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. McCracken, G. (1988). The long interview. Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

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McKenry, P. C., & Price, S. J. (1994). Families coping with problems and change. In P. C. McKenry & S. J. Price (Eds.), Families and change: Coping with stressful events (pp. 1–20). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Meill, D. (1987). Remembering relationship development: Constructing a context for interactions. In R. Burnett, P. McGhee, & D. D. Clarke (Eds), Accounting for relationships: Explanation, representation, and knowledge (pp. 60–73). London: Methuen. Metts, S., Sprecher, S., & Cuapch, W. R. (1991). Retrospective self-reports. In B. Montgomery & S. Duck (Eds.), Studying interpersonal interaction (pp. 162–178). New York: Guilford. Miles, M. B., & Huberman, A. M. (1994). Qualitative data analysis: A sourcebook of new methods (2nd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Monk, P. (1997). Adolescent-to-parent violence: A qualitative analysis of emerging themes. Thesis for Master of Social Work, University of British Columbia, Victoria. Olson, L. N. (2002a). Compliance gaining strategies of individuals experiencing “common couple violence.” Qualitative Research Reports in Communication, 3, 7–14. Olson, L. N. (2002b). “As ugly and painful as it was, it was effective”: Individuals’ unique assessment of communication competence during aggressive conflict episodes. Communication Studies, 53, 171–188. Olson, L. N. (2002c). Exploring “common couple violence” in heterosexual romantic relationships. Western Journal of Communication, 66, 104–128. Omer, H. (2000). Parental presence: Reclaiming a leadership role in bringing up our children. Phoenix: Zeig, Tucker. Pagelow, M. D. (1984). Family violence. New York: Praeger. Peek, C., Fisher, J. L., Kidwell, J. S. (1985). Teenage violence towards parents: A neglected dimension of family violence. Journal of Marriage and Family, 47, 1051–1058. Price, J. A. (1996). Power and compassion: Working with difficult adolescents and abused parents. New York: Guilford. Schuett, D. (1999, February 25). “I wanted him to be a good child.” Post Bulletin, p. 7B. Sheehan, M. (1997). Adolescent violence: Strategies, outcomes and dilemmas in working with young people and their families. Australian and New Zealand Journal of Family Therapy, 18, 80–91. Sillars, A. L., & Weisberg, J. (1987). Conflict as a social skill. In M. E. Roloff & G. R. Miller (Eds.), Interpersonal processes: New directions in communication research (pp. 140–171). Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Steinberg, L., Mounts, N. S., Lamborn, S. D., & Dornbusch, S. (1991). Authoritative parenting and adolescent adjustment across varied ecological niches. Journal of Research on Adolescents, 1, 19–36.

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Straus, M. A., Gelles, R. J., & Steinmetz, S. K. (1980). Behind closed doors: Violence in the American family. New York: Anchor. Strauss, A. (1987) Qualitative Analysis for Social Scientists. Cambridge University Press. Strauss, A., & Corbin, J. (1990). Basics of qualitative research: Grounded theory procedures and techniques. Newbury Park, CA: Sage. Taylor, B., & Trujillo, N. (2001). Qualitative research in organizational communication. In F. M. Jablin & L. L. Putnam (Eds.), New handbook of organizational communication: Advances in theory, research and methods (pp. 161–196). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Ting-Toomey, S. (1994). Managing conflict in intimate intercultural relationships. In D. D. Cahn (Ed.), Intimate conflict in personal relationships. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum. Walter, W. O., Lagrone, R. G., & Atkinson, A.W. (1989). Psychosocial screening in pediatric practice: Identifying high risk children. Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics, 10, 134–138. Wilmot, W.W., & Hocker, J. L. (2001). Interpersonal conflict (6th ed.). New York: McGraw Hill. Wood, J. T. (2004). Monsters and victims: Male felons’ accounts of intimate partner violence. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships, 21(5), 555–576.

10 Forgiving the Unforgivable? Processes of Forgiveness and Reconciliation after Episodes of Family Violence

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Battery at the hands of one who says, “I love you,” verbal abuse from one whose opinion is more important than anyone else’s, sexual violation from one who should have been a protector—in all of its forms, family violence is a betrayal that leaves the victim wounded and vulnerable. Under such conditions, the word forgiveness seems, at the very least, misplaced or irrelevant, despite the potential of forgiveness processes to effect healing in those who have been hurt by others. As Fincham, Hall, and Beach (2006) note: Often clinicians will find that clients are adverse to the idea of forgiveness before any attempts to facilitate forgiveness are even underway. . . . [M]any individuals believe that forgiveness requires one to forget about a transgression and reconcile with the offender. . . . It is also widely believed that one must accept, condone, or excuse an offense in order to forgive. Finally, some individuals associate forgiveness with feelings of weakness or being a pushover and fear that forgiving an offender permits that person to hurt them again. (p. 416)

Despite the growing recognition by those in the helping profession that forgiveness is an important part of the healing process, laypersons are not always convinced. Indeed, the amount of news coverage surrounding 205

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the October 2006 killing of five children at a Pennsylvania Amish school and the response of the families who publicly proclaimed their forgiveness of the killer indicates that most Americans see forgiveness as something that is often religiously driven and unusual in the extreme. As Lewis and Adler (2004) note: It requires a Christ-like forbearance to pardon a would-be assassin, of course. But how many of us are ready to forgive an unfaithful lover, a scheming colleague or even the jerk who cut into the line at Krispy Kreme? Persistent unforgiveness is part of human nature. (p. 52)

Even within therapeutic literature, the discussion of forgiveness in cases of family violence is still at its beginning stages. Battle and Miller’s (2005) extensive review of the literature related to families and forgiveness found very little that related to instances of violence. Freedman and Enright’s (1996) work explored issues of forgiveness with incest survivors; Coates (1997) and Turnage, Jacinto, and Kriven (2003) examined issues of forgiveness for women who were survivors of domestic violence. Gordon, Burton, and Porter (2004) demonstrated that feelings of forgiveness are related to women’s decisions to return to abusive partners. In the studies just noted, the roles of forgiveness and/or reconciliation in relationships characterized by domestic violence are not yet clear. On the other hand, Cavanaugh, Dobash, and Dobash (2001), seem wary of even exploring the possibility of forgiveness following family violence, seeing it as something perpetrators of violence may use to reduce perceptions of their culpability and to manipulate their victim’s interpretation of the violent event, fostering reconciliation within an unsafe relationship. Some of the disagreement over the role of forgiveness in response to family violence is no doubt linked to continuing confusion of the processes of forgiveness and reconciliation. The concept of ‘forgiveness’ has a relatively short history within social psychological literature. Prior to the early 1990s, forgiveness was largely a theological construct, associated most closely with Christianity, and it was most often couched in terms that assumed reconciliation between estranged parties. Writers such as Augsburger (1970, 1981), Linn and Linn (1978), and Donnelly (1982) provided advice to predominantly evangelical Christian readers on how to forgive. Smedes’ (1984) seminal work, Forgive and Forget, opened the discussion of forgiveness to a larger audience, although his book was anecdotal rather than research based. Pingleton (1989) was one of the first writers to bring the topic into the family therapy discussion. In 1985, Enright began a program of research on the topic of forgiveness at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, creating the Enright Forgiveness Inventory

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(1994) in the process. Since that time, researchers such as McCullough, Sandage, and Worthington (1997), Worthington (1998), and McCullough, Pargament, and Thoresen (2000) have added to Enright’s work, and the topic has moved to the center of discussion concerning marital and family therapy, although the discussion has not yet reached the mainstream of family violence research. DiBlasio (1998) is typical of the way in which forgiveness models are applied to family situations. Part of the appeal of exploring forgiveness in troubled relationships has been its reputed benefits for mental and physical health, although mental health benefits have been more widely demonstrated. Among other benefits, forgiveness intervention has been effective in reducing depression and anxiety (Hebl & Enright, 1993), raising selfesteem (Al-Mabuk, Enright, & Cardis, 1995), improving perceptions of self-efficacy (Luskin, Ginzburg, & Thoresen, 2005), and increasing self-esteem and feelings of hope while lowering depression and anxiety for incest survivors (Freedman & Enright, 1996), although Thoresen, Luskin, and Harris (1998) note that there are some methodological problems with effects demonstrated in the literature. Physical health benefits are generally linked to the decreased levels of stress that forgiveness may create (see, for example, Sapolsky’s 2005 or Worthington’s 2006 discussions of unforgiveness as a stress reaction), but Thoresen, Harris, and Luskin (2000) assert, “While some data suggest that a secular approach to increasing forgiveness improves some mental health measures, such as depression and anger . . . no controlled studies have yet reported improved physical health in persons with major diseases” (p. 254). It can be argued that forgiveness has many benefits, but the benefits of reconciliation following forgiveness have not been demonstrated. Given the recent entry of the topic of forgiveness into the conversation regarding family violence and continuing concerns about the relationship of forgiveness to reconciliation, this chapter will explore concepts of forgiveness and reconciliation and evaluate their usefulness when dealing with victims of family and domestic violence.

Defining Forgiveness and Reconciliation As a relatively new arrival on the research scene, the concept of forgiveness has only recently solidified. McCullough and colleagues’ (2000) definition reflects the majority of the field; they state that forgiveness is an intraindividual, prosocial change toward a perceived transgressor that is situated within a specific interpersonal context. When someone

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forgives a person who has committed a transgression against him or her, it is the forgiver (specifically, in his or her thoughts, feelings, motivations, or behaviors) who changes. (p. 9)

Forgiveness is largely considered to be developmental in nature, rather than a one-shot solution for a pressing problem, and is characterized by specific effects. Worthington, Mazzeo, and Kliewer (2002), for example, note that “the measure of whether it has truly occurred is considered to be the emotional replacement of negative unforgiving emotions with positive other-oriented emotions. Forgiveness is rarely an event; it occurs over time as negative emotions are repeatedly whittled away” (p. 259). In defining forgiveness, researchers have been careful to note what does not constitute forgiveness. As McCullough and others (2000) argue: forgiveness should be differentiated from “pardoning” (which is a legal term), “condoning” (which implies a justification of the offense), “forgetting” (which implies that the memory of the offense has simply decayed or slipped out of conscious awareness), and “denying” (which implies simply an unwillingness to perceive the harmful injuries that one has incurred). (p. 8)

Overall, those researching in this field emphasize these aspects of forgiveness: it occurs when a person lets go of his or her feelings of revenge and need for retaliation and changes his or her thoughts about the transgression and the transgressor. In almost all models, there is a focus on the “victim’s development of empathy toward the perpetrator as a necessary step in forgiveness” (Macaskill, Maltby, & Day, 2002, p. 663); lasting forgiveness results from the ability to see the perpetrator as a human being rather than as a stereotyped victimizer. It is a necessary step in growing as a person; the choice not to forgive is essentially an unhealthy one. As Enright and Fitzgibbons (2000) note, “Forgiveness has a specific task: to help people overcome resentment, bitterness, and even hatred toward people who have treated them unfairly and at times cruelly” (p. 4). However healthy a choice it may be, forgiveness cannot be rushed. Davenport (1991) points out, “Premature forgiveness that takes place before self-affirmation and empowering are under way is deleterious. Frequently, it does not even seem to be forgiveness at all, but is instead a cover for passivity and anxiety” (p. 141). Reconciliation is a process distinct from forgiveness. As Freedman and others (1991) argue, “Forgiveness is an unconditional gift freely given, with no strings attached. . . . It is one person’s response toward another in a hurtful situation; reconciliation is the process of two peo-

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ple, together, negotiating and working out differences” (p. 495). While forgiveness is granted by individuals, reconciliation must be accomplished by those in the fractured relationship. The widespread assumption by laypersons that forgiveness and reconciliation are virtually simultaneous is disturbing, because that assumption often moves people toward reconciliation before such action is actually warranted. The desire for reconciliation must be tempered by recognition of the dangers involved within it. Reconciliation that occurs too soon without any evidence of changed behavior on the part of the perpetrator puts the victim at risk. There is a danger of the violent behavior resuming after a period of quiescence. Sells and Hargarve (1998) note, There is an artificial forgiveness in which perpetrators maintain dominance and subtly promote a continuation of the injury. . . . The dangers of this pseudo-forgiveness may include manipulation, denial, avoidance, injustice or perpetuation of injury. . . . [T]his false forgiveness [is] a denial of the violation of the relationship which leads to the superficial acceptance and an external presentation of relational connectedness. (p. 25)

An example of pseudoforgiveness leading to premature reconciliation unlinked to behavioral change is typified by Gordon and colleagues’ (2004) finding that forgiveness of the perpetrator is a better predictor of whether women will return to an abusive partner than other variables such as severity of or attributed reason for the violence. Walrond-Skinner (1998) underscores the problem of conflating forgiveness and reconciliation when she argues, “Particularly in situations of sexual and physical violence, forgiveness may be inappropriately urged upon victims with the effect (intended or not) of releasing the perpetrator from responsibility for his actions” (p. 8). Both authors provide troubling reminders that we must be mindful of the ways in which forgiveness and reconciliation are discussed in the context of domestic violence.

The Processes of Forgiveness and Reconciliation If the concepts of forgiveness and reconciliation are to be useful to those working in areas of domestic violence, understanding the way in which they will unfold is important. Figure 10.1 is an idealized illustration of how the processes of forgiveness and reconciliation are linked to one another. In one instance, a person may move through processes of forgiveness without

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Processes of Forgiveness and Reconciliation

Forgiveness for one’s own sake

No perceived need to restore relationship

Forgiveness as altruism

Offender admits cupability, offers apology

Forgiveness for the sake of the relationship Forgiveness from recognition: “You are like me” Forgiveness from recognition: “I am like you”

Possibility of reopening relationship

Forgiveness Reconciliation

Offender acts in trustworthy ways Trust rebuilds Relationship is recreated

necessarily moving over to reconcile with the other. Moving through this process of forgiveness, a person may first forgive because it is a healthy thing to do for one’s self; forgiving makes us feel better. Younger, Piferi, Jobe, and Lawler (2004) found this to be the most common understanding of forgiveness in their study of college students and community laypersons. Forgiveness at this stage is accomplished because the victim realizes that not forgiving hurts the victim rather than the offender. Anne Lamott pithily said, “Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die” (Lamott, 1999, p. 134). In almost all cases, such forgiving does not result in a recreated relationship. At the second level of forgiveness, a person might forgive because of empathy for the other, understanding that the other needs forgiveness. Worthington (2003) observes that “this is a difficult sell. . . . Yet most people . . . come to see that anger, resentment, hostility, rage, and hatred destroy. . . . [L]asting satisfaction comes more often with creating” (p. 25). While this type of forgiveness may not necessarily lead into processes of reconciliation, it does make reconciliation more probable. It is interesting that in studies that compared forgiveness intervention taught from a self-benefit basis and intervention taught from an empathy basis, two findings emerged. When people attended one-hour training sessions on forgiveness, they achieved higher levels of forgiveness when the self-benefit approach was used than when the empathy approach was used. However, when people attended eight-hour training sessions, people achieved much higher levels of forgiveness in the empathy condition than they did in the self-benefit condition. Worthington (2003) concludes:

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If a person had little time to consider forgiving, the person would probably forgive more easily to benefit his or her physical, mental, and relational health. But if the person was willing to spend more than four hours trying to forgive, then forgiving in order to bless the person who hurt him or her would produce more and longer-lasting forgiveness than forgiving just for the person’s own benefit. (p. 26)

The third stage of forgiveness, which moves a person from forgiving for the sake of the other to forgiving for the sake of the relationship, is a fairly easy step. Moskal (1994) describes this type of forgiveness as something that “lies at the place where three roads meet: the ethics of obligation, in the matter of forgiving what was done; the ethics of virtue, in the matter of the motive of love and the virtue of creativity; and the ethics of [authenticity], in implying a deep and abiding concern for the other who has disclosed” (p. 9). This kind of forgiveness is generally precipitated by expressions of remorse and regret by the offender as well as promises of change in the future and is generally the inception of reconciliation processes in the relationship. I would argue that the final two stages of forgiveness are unlikely to occur except in the instance of a relationship that is in the process of reconciliation and recreation. These two stages of forgiveness require high levels of empathy on the part of the forgiver and generally can occur only in close contact with the offender; they are suggested by Benner (1990) and illustrated behaviorally by Retzinger’s (1991) explanation of processes involved repairing the social bond: Many of us look at the other and say, “They never change,” their behavior is rigid. Perhaps it might be better to ask, How do I deal with emotions? Do I acknowledge shame? To what extent am I alienated from others? It is relatively easy to see what is going on in other people; it is more difficult to see ourselves. (p. 195)

In the fourth stage, then, the victim begins to see the offender as “like me.” Feelings of estrangement and separation, feelings that the offender is “other” (cf., Volf, 1996), begin to diminish. This results in a lessening of the victim/villain characterization of those in the relationship. When forgiveness deepens, not only is the victim able to see the offender as “like me,” but the victim is able to say, “I am like the offender.” This is a very difficult cognitive move. It requires that the victim see himself or herself as a person capable of harming others. It does not require that the victim believe that he or she is capable of the same offense, but in this stage the victim is capable of seeing how he or she has inflicted pain on others and has received forgiveness for those offenses.

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As the victim is moving through stages of forgiveness, reconciliation may be moving in parallel but connected ways. At the most basic level, a person may feel no need at all for reconciliation, even though he or she has forgiven the other. Indeed, most of those reporting that they had forgiven others in Lulofs’ (1995) study indicated that they had no desire to continue the relationship with the other person. They had forgiven for reasons of self-benefit or altruism but had not expressed a desire to restore the relationship, even though in some cases the offender had attempted to remedy the situation in some way. If the offender admits culpability and offers an apology and/or some remedy to the situation, the possibility of reconciliation is opened. Such apology must be sincere, nondefensive, not excusing the behavior, and a pledge to change in the future (Augsburger, 1996, p. 42). As the offender acts in good faith and in ways that are trustworthy, the relationship is recreated. Freedman and others (1991) claim that “we are best served when we forgive one person for one concrete issue at a time, otherwise we may become overwhelmed or confused” (p. 494); thus, it is most likely that instances where there are multiple offenses will require longer to sort out and reconcile. It is important to emphasize the notion of recreating the relationship rather than restoring it. No relationship that has been fractured by violence can be what it was. If the relationship is to continue, new patterns of behavior must be enacted that render violence an impossible choice in the future. The ways in which forgiveness and reconciliation work together are illustrated in Figure 10.2. The illustrated forgiveness-reconciliation loop is an expansion of Lulofs’s (1992) social constructionist approach to forgiveness. The victim makes a decision to forgive, which is generally precipitated by the offender’s offer of apology or restitution, although the apology might be by-passed. Following the decision to forgive, the victim consents to reenter into relationship with the offender. As the offender continues to act in trustworthy ways, the relationship deepens and expands, communication becomes freer, and talk is not centered in the offense in the past but on events anticipated in the future. New stories are told about the relationship, recasting it in a new light. Such behavior deepens the levels of forgiveness in the victim, and it is through repeated successful loops that a victim reaches higher levels of forgiveness. The danger, of course, is that the offensive behavior may be repeated. In this case, the victim must decide whether the offense represents aberrant behavior that will not be repeated, or whether it is a signal that the abusive behavior has returned. The victim can decide that the relationship cannot be continued because the offender cannot be trusted, thus terminating

Offender’s actions harm victim

•

apologizes and/or offers remedy or restitution

• The offender

•

is recreated

• Relationship

forgive is reaffirmed

• Decision to

The victim makes a decision to forgive

•

•

Communication makes fewer references to offense; offense is in the past

The decision to forgive is communicated verbally or nonverbally

The victim extends trust to the offender

•

•

Offender continues to act in trustworthy ways

•

Communication and action may be constrained

Communication becomes freer

•

FIGURE 10.2 The Forgiveness-Reconciliation Loop

•

•

•

Victim must decide whether offense is singular or part of a pattern

•

Offender repeats offense

• •

Live in pseudo forgiveness cycle

Terminate relationship

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the relationship. An unhealthy but possible outcome is that the victim will understand that the abusive pattern is remerging but decide not to terminate the relationship, opting for pseudoforgiveness and reconciliation instead. Walrond-Skinner (1998) characterizes this as “a defensive strategy arising from an inability to feel sufficiently safe or worthwhile to confront the wrongdoer or to sustain anger towards them sufficient to promote catharsis and a growth in self-affirmation and empowerment” (p. 6). In the case of violent offenders, it is a strategy that can result in horrific outcomes. It is important to understand that, in healthy relationships, forgiveness is a necessary but insufficient condition for reconciliation. In its least harmful iteration, reconciliation without reform on the part of the offender and forgiveness on the part of the victim results in a relationship characterized by silence about the offensive and defensive behaviors. In its worst form, reconciliation without reform or forgiveness results in continuing abuse and harmful behavior. Walrond-Skinner (1998) characterizes this as collusive forgiveness, which amounts to unconditional capitulation by the injured party. A sexually abusive parent may repeatedly beg a child’s forgiveness after each act of abuse and as part of the abusive ritual, only to repeat the behavior again. Or an alcoholic husband may beg his wife’s forgiveness when sober again in an effort to prevent her from leaving. (p. 12)

Illustrating Forgiveness and Reconciliation: A Case Study In this section, a case study will be used to illustrate how forgiveness and reconciliation has taken place in one instance of family violence. Various levels of forgiveness and reconciliation will be identified alongside the narrative provided (see Table 10.1). In the case illustrated in Table 10.1, forgiveness and reconciliation took place over a long period of time. The two processes influenced one another; as forgiveness deepened, the possibility of reconciliation became more real. Because the violence was no longer a possibility, even without full forgiveness a form of pseudoreconciliation was possible because of the daughter’s desire to have some relationship with her parents. It is noteworthy, however, that as the victim forgave at deeper levels, unasked for forgiveness made it possible for the offender to render an apology. In some cases, this process might be beneficial, but where abuse has been ongoing and has the potential to continue, such a strategy would be ill-advised.

215 TABLE 10.1 Forgiveness and Reconciliation Case Study

Preforgiveness stage

I was sexually abused by both my older brother and my grandfather between the ages of 6 and 11. Since my brother’s abuse terminated by the time he was a teenager, and because it was more oriented toward exploration, it did not create as many lingering memories as the abuse by my grandfather, although I think because my brother’s abuse came first it made my grandfather’s abuse seem less extraordinary. On top of this, my father could be physically abusive; once he kicked me into a cupboard because I had not obeyed an order he had given. My mother was verbally abusive. I never felt as though I could tell them what was happening; I was afraid I would be blamed for it. I kept my secret for a very long time but finally told my parents about it when my daughter was approaching the age I had been when my abuse started.

Attempt at entering forgiveness and reconciliation processes Stage One forgiveness with abuser Pseudoforgiveness and reconciliation with parents

I wasn’t sure my parents were all that believing of me. My father simply said, “I would have killed him if I had known.” My mother said, “I guess that’s why you were such a moody child.” Not surprisingly, I found it easier to forgive my father for his lack of knowledge, and harder to forgive my mother for her lack of feeling. That remark got added to a pile of other issues I had with her. I never really talked to my father about his physical abuse; the closest I got was refusing the “gift” of the family razor-strop. My dad never understood why I didn’t want to spank my kids and why I didn’t let my parents discipline them. I forgave my now-dead grandfather for my own sake. I didn’t want to hang on to the past. I simply didn’t talk to my parents about it again. My father died shortly after this time.

Need to forgive reemerges

Several years later, my sister revealed that my parents had known my grandfather had a propensity for molestation, as he had served jail time for doing so prior to the time he lived with us. This was a devastating thing to hear, because I wondered how my parents could have been so blind to what was going on, particularly since the possibility of it happening was high. (continued on next page)

216 TABLE 10.1 (continued)

Stage One forgiveness

For a long time, I simply forgave my mother for my own sake. It didn’t do to hold on to the bitterness. Since my father was dead, I didn’t see a point in hating him, although I found it difficult sometimes when my children recalled fond memories of him.

Stage Two forgiveness Low-level reconciliation processes

Over time, I began to see how constricted my mother’s life had become. As she grew older, she became bitterer about the things she had experienced in her childhood. It was like looking into the future and seeing me. I began to forgive her because she didn’t need me to be angry with her as well. We still didn’t have the best relationship in the world: There were things we just couldn’t talk about.

Stage Three forgiveness emerging

As my kids were getting older, I began to think about whether I wanted them to model their relationship with me on the relationship I had with my own mother. For her sake, for their sake, for mine too, I started opening up and finding ways to see my mother as a limited human being who did the best she was able to do.

Stage Four and Stage Five emerging

As time went on, I began to look at myself and be more introspective. I began to see that my mother was a lot like me, and more important, that I was a lot like her. I saw the way I hurt my own kids without always being aware that I was doing it. I guess I just decided that life was too short, that I had too little of it left, to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed or to withhold love from people who really needed it.

Deeper reconciliation emerging

What was interesting was that shortly after I made a decision to just put this all behind me, my mother called me and said she wanted me to come down and see her. During our meeting, she specifically asked for my forgiveness for her not seeing what was happening when I was a child. I told her I forgave her, and I was able to be positive and talk to her about the gifts I believe she had given me in growing up. From that point on, I had much greater tenderness for my mom, and when she lay dying, I was able to tell her I loved her, that I would miss her, and that I hoped I might see her again in another place. Over 10 years had passed between her death and the time I first talked to her about my childhood.

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Conclusion While one case study does not prove an argument, it has the potential to show how forgiveness and reconciliation might be effected in a family relationship where there have been various forms of violence against one of its members. Forgiveness should always be an option, recognizing that forgiveness neither pardons nor excuses, forgets nor opens the victim to further abuse. Forgiveness is a step toward wholeness, one that leads people toward greater freedom of feeling and fewer ties to a painful past. Reconciliation is clearly not always an option. Where reconciliation is desired, persons who have experienced family violence are well advised to reconcile with the help of third parties, taking the reconciliation process slowly. In no case should reconciliation be urged where offenses are likely to bring violence again. It is important that laypersons be trained to recognize that forgiveness and reconciliation are separate steps, requiring on the one hand the resilience to put behind hurts for one’s own sake, and on the other hand, courage to demand change from one who has transgressed against the relationship. As the Amish community demonstrated, forgiveness frees the victim from the offense. More important, though, reconciliation, when approached cautiously, has the potential to heal families.

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Contributors

Ruth Anna Abigail (Ph.D., University of Southern California) is a professor and curriculum specialist in the Center for Adult and Professional Studies at Azusa Pacific University. Nancy J. Brule (formerly Eckstein) (Ph.D., University of Nebraska, Lincoln) is an associate professor in the Department of Communication Studies at Bethel University in St. Paul, MN. Dudley D. Cahn (Ph.D., Wayne Statue University) is professor in the Department of Communication and Media at the State University of New York at New Paltz. Julie E. Delaney (M.A., University of Texas at Austin) is a Ph.D. student in the Department of Communication at Purdue University. Jessica J. Eckstein (M.A., University of Montana) is a Ph.D. student in the Department of Speech Communication at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. Suzanne M. Enck-Wanzer (Ph.D., Indiana University) is an assistant professor of communication studies at Eastern Illinois University. Joan Svaldi Farr is the director of the Family and Victim Services at the Miami-Dade County Department of Human Services in Miami. Loreen N. Olson (Ph.D., University of Nebraska-Lincoln) is an assistant professor in the Department of Communication at the University of Missouri-Columbia. Victoria Orrego-Dunleavy (Ph.D., Michigan State University) is an assistant professor in the School of Communication at the University of Miami, FL. 221

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CONTRIBUTORS

Jessica J. Rack (M.A., University of Cincinnati) is a Ph.D. student in the Department of Communication at Purdue University. Felicia Roberts (Ph.D., University of Wisconsin-Madison) is associate professor in the Department of Communication at Purdue University. Teresa C. Sabourin (Ph.D., Purdue University) is professor in the Department of Communication at the University of Cincinnati. Angela B. Swanson (Ph.D., University of Iowa) is the program manager for the Richmond Families Initiative at the Bonner Center for Civic Engagement at the University of Richmond. Maria Elena Villar is a Ph.D. student in the Department of Communication at the University of Miami, FL. Steven R. Wilson (Ph.D., Purdue University) is professor in the Department of Communication at Purdue University.

Index

abuse episodes, 182, 185–92, 198–200 abuse potential/predisposition, 6, 11, 13 abuse/aggression/violence: emotional, 33, 182–88, 194–99 frequency, 31–41, 54, 61, 139, 157, 165 physical, 183, 185, 191–94 severity, 36–37, 54, 61, 64, 68, 139, 184, 209 verbal. See verbal abuse accounts, 54–69 acknowledgment of responsibility/taking responsibility for abusive behavior, 55–58, 74 adolescent-to-parent abuse, 179–201 affiliative behavior, 171 aggression rituals, 12 anger/anger management, 7, 43, 49, 74, 77, 80, 118, 189–90, 195, 197, 200, 207, 210, 214 anti-social behavior, 139 apology/restitution, 58, 61, 66, 212, 217 argumentation skills/argumentativeness, 1, 7, 10–11, 117, 138, 146, 155, 201 attitudes toward partner conflict, 80 Attitudes Towards Women Scale, 80 attributions (excuses, justifications, minimizations, concessions, denial, apology). See accounts

battered parents. See adolescent-toparent abuse battered-child syndrome, 136–37 batterer intervention programs (BIPs), 49–58, 60–60, 73–84 batterer treatment. See batterer intervention programs (BIPs) batterer’s perspective, 49–69, 73–84 battering, 7, 76, 124–25, 181 Battering Women Shelters, 55 Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act, 137 child neglect, 141–42, 147 child physical abuse, 135–53 child sexual abuse, 5, 7, 16, 95, 155, 215–16 chilling effect. See noncommunicative cognitive behavioral intervention, 84 common couple violence (CCV), 6, 13, 29, 147–48 defined, 29 communication approach/perspective, 1, 2, 10, 14, 17, 68, 137 communication cognitions, 11, 113 communication interaction, 12, 114 communicator personality trait, 5, 10, 14, 113 communication competency, 114 communication patterns, 13–14, 17, 40, 44, 139–48, 156

223

224

INDEX

complementary. See type of relationship compliance gaining, 40, 76, 84 conflict communication goals. See conflict goals conflict goals: Content (instrumental) goals, 183, 188, 191–92 Relational goals, 183, 189–90, 192, 194–95 Identity/face-saving goals, 184, 188, 192–93, 195–96 Process goals, 184, 190–91, 193–94 conflict goals in: emotional abuse, 194–98 physical abuse, 191–94, 197–98 verbal abuse, 187–91, 197–98 Conflict Mode Instrument, 74 conflict resolution, 41, 74, 80, 82, 137, 145–46 Conflict Resolution Styles Inventory, 74 Conflict Tactics Scale (CTS), 5–6, 11, 13, 31, 52 cultural norms. See socialization dark side of communication, 13, 138 deficiency in argumentation. See argumentation skills dialectical theory, 199 disclosure strategy/incremental disclosure, 97–101 dissociate/dissociation, 11, 58 domestic violence. See family violence dysfunctional child rearing beliefs, 6, 11–12 dysfunctional communication, 138 emotional abuse/emotional terrorism, 13, 29–30, 33, 37, 91, 96, 115, 117, 120, 124, 179, 182–90, 194–98, 217 Emotional Empathy Scale, 74 Empathy, 57–58 Enright Forgiveness Inventory, 207 escalating antagonism, 12

ethics of obligation/virtue/love/creativity/authenticity, 211 family communication environment, 143, 146–47 conformity, 143–47 conversation orientations, 143–47 family communication types/patterns, 143–47 consensual, 144–45 laissez-faire, 145–47 pluralistic, 143–44 protective, 144, 146–47 Family violence, 2, 4, 89, 113–16, 120, 124, 181 family violence perspective, 29 female-initiated aggression, 39 feminist perspective, 29, 73 forgiveness, 205–17 gendered abuse. See intimate terrorism Generalized Self-Efficacy Scale, 74 hegemonic culture, 7, 126 hegemonic masculinity (de-masculinized), 106 hostility, 10, 11, 17, 210 inappropriate communication, 138 incest survivors, 7, 206–7 incompetent communication. See dysfunctional communication infant caregiver role, 7, 125 interactional patterns/interactive models, 10, 12–14, 17, 28, 114, 138–40, 145, 156, 158, 162, 197 interpretive acts, 121 interview method, 13, 51, 57, 59–66, 79, 81, 84, 95–97, 156, 158, 180, 185–87, 200 intimate terrorism, 29–30, 89, 96, 117, 120, 124 marital/interspousal violence. See spousal abuse. See also common couple violence

INDEX

masculinity, 92–93 moral reasoning of men, 77 negative health outcomes (Physical and psychological), 90 neglect, 7, 127, 136, 141–42, 147, 155 non-communicative: chilling effect, 7, 37 silent victims, 182 open communication, 143–47, 180, 216 parenting: parent-child communication/ interaction, 23, 137, 139, 146, 161 parent-child relationship, 18, 189, 199 parental authority, 7, 142, 144 parenting research, 140–43 parenting styles (authoritarian, permissive, authoritative, neglecting), 141–43 parent-to-child maltreatment/aggression, 6–7, 16, 155 passive-aggressive response, 7 patriarchal terrorism, 29, 73 physical abuse/aggression (nonverbal violence), 136–48, 155, 158, 164, 166–69, 172, 181–98, 207, 209, 215 physical child abuse, 135–47 defined as, 136 positive negotiation skills, 138 power dynamics/power relations/control/domination, 29, 119 privacy management perspective, 94–95 problem child, 7, 182 problem-solving, 138 pseudo forgiveness, 209, 214–15 Psychological Maltreatment of Women Scale, 52, 74 public discourse, 115

225

qualitative research methods/measures/analysis. See research on family violence quantitative research methods/measures/analysis. See research on family violence recidivism, 51–53, 79 reconciliation, 208–17 Relational Control-MotivatedAggression Theory, 28, 30, 32–34 properties and dimensions of control, 30, 32–34 property of location, 34 property of movement, 34 property of ownership, 34 remorse, 58, 66, 211 research on family violence: qualitative research/interpretative analysis, 9, 13, 78, 158, 172, 186–87 quantitative research/statistical analysis, 1, 2, 7, 9, 13, 16, 29, 78, 114, 116 rhetorical method, 120–29 rhetorical perspective/architecture/culture, 113–32 self esteem, 77, 84, 93, 99, 142, 193, 195, 207 Self-efficacy, 74–83, 207 sexual abuse, 5, 7, 16, 95, 155 sibling rivalry. See teasing silent. See non-communicative situational couple violence/episodic violence, 29–30, 117, 120 social cognitive theory, 75–77 social competence, 173 social constructionist approach, 212 socialization, 7, 80, 91–92, 141 social scientific approach/social paradigm, 113–20, 129 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, 136

226

INDEX

spousal abuse/wife abuse/marital violence, 89, 124 stigma/stigmatized identity, 90–107 symbolic act, 115, 121, 155 teasing, 7, 165 terministic screens, 114–22 terroristic control, 29 trait verbal aggressiveness, 1, 4–5, 117, 155–77 transactional perspective, 118 Transtheoretical Model, 56, 78 treatment programs. See batterer intervention programs type of relationship: complementary type of relationship, 34–41, 115, 126 symmetrical type of relationship, 34–42, 148 veil of denial, 182 verbal abuse/aggression, 4, 116, 138–40, 148, 155–75, 182–83, 187–91 as a catalyst, 139 predisposition to, 157, 171

verbal/nonverbal symbols, 12–13, 115, 120–21, 127, 138, 155, 182 victimization, 76, 127, 182 men’s victimization, 89, 90, 93–95, 101, 104–6 women’s victimization, 7, 89, 92, 123 violent couple types/typology, 30–44 Exemplar of a Combative relationship, 41 Exemplar of a Violent relationship, 38 Exemplar of an Abusive relationship, 36 Exemplar of an Aggressive relationship, 40 Mutually Abusive, 35–36 Mutually Aggressive, 35, 40–41 Mutually Combative, 35, 41–44 Mutually Violent, 35, 37–40 violent romantic relationships. See violent couple types wheel of power and control, 119 wife abuse. See spousal abuse