Roberto De Zerbi issued an apology in his first interview as Tottenham’s new head coach, addressing past remarks about Mason Greenwood from their time together at Marseille. Supporters groups like Proud Lilywhites and Women of the Lane—both co-founded by the author—were among those calling him out. De Zerbi stated he never intended to minimize male violence against women. Greenwood had denied charges of attempted rape, controlling and coercive behavior, and assault occasioning actual bodily harm in 2022, with the case later discontinued.
The fact that De Zerbi responded at all matters. Silence from men in positions of power on these issues is a major problem, and engagement beats retreat every time. But his apology offered self-description instead of accountability. In this context, that simply isn’t enough.
This conversation around De Zerbi and Greenwood has been welcome in one sense: it thrust male violence against women back into football’s public discourse. It raises a tougher question: why do so many men fail to recognize harmful behavior, or see it and stay silent? To drive change, we must get honest about how this works.
The ‘Good Guy’ Problem: Blame Displacement in Male Violence
Research on male perpetrators of sexual and domestic violence consistently shows blame displacement. A 2024 review in Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, synthesizing qualitative studies over four decades, found that men who commit serious harm rarely identify as perpetrators. They attribute blame to victims, alcohol, being out of character, or circumstances.
Labels like “rapist” or “abuser” are resisted because they clash with a self-image of decency. This explains why the “I know him, he’s a good person” response is so common—and so inadequate. Perpetrators aren’t usually strangers or monsters. They’re people others know, like, and want to defend. Character references, however sincere, miss the point entirely.
How Harmful Behavior Gets Normalized in Football Culture
Male violence against women doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It operates within norms that shape what gets seen, named, and ignored. The World Health Organization and decades of academic research point to these norms—not individual pathology—as the root cause. As researcher Michael Flood argues, violence against women isn’t just about bad men; it’s sustained by cultures that treat certain behaviors as unremarkable.
Most men aren’t perpetrators of physical violence. But stats show men are significantly more likely than women to view sexist comments, jokes, or banter as somewhat acceptable. That gap matters—it’s where immense damage occurs.
Football isn’t immune. The dressing room isn’t neutral. Studies in settings like the Australian Football League and UK football’s Football Onside programme (University of Exeter) reveal that strong group cultures in sport can silence men, driven by fear of being seen as weak, difficult, or disloyal. Conformity pressure is real, even when norms aren’t as widely shared as assumed.
What Men Might Have Done Without Realizing It
This is the hardest but most necessary part. Coercive control, recognized in law in England and Wales, often involves behaviors perpetrators don’t classify as abuse: pressuring a partner, monitoring movements, making them responsible for your emotional state, isolating them from friends and family. Many men engage in elements of this without understanding the harm, because they were never taught to see it that way.
De Zerbi’s response serves as a useful illustration. He spoke up, which matters. “In my life, I have always stood up for those who are more vulnerable, more fragile. I’ve consistently fought and taken a stand to be on the side of those who are most at risk,” he said. Silence from powerful men is a problem, but his reply fell short.
Genuine ownership requires three things: naming what was wrong with the statement (not just the feelings it caused), accepting that impact exists independently of intent, and clearly stating it won’t happen again. De Zerbi offered a character reference for himself instead. These statements may have been sincere, but they didn’t address what was said or why it landed poorly.
Research on perpetration and normalization shows many men don’t grasp the impact of their words or actions because their culture didn’t equip them to see it. This doesn’t mean De Zerbi is beyond learning or change. That’s why ownership and unequivocal atonement speak volumes—they signal someone has done the hard work of understanding impact over defending intent. We didn’t see that here.
Why Football Specifically Matters in This Fight
If De Zerbi had made these comments in another industry, they’d barely register. Football is a lightning rod. It reaches into communities, living rooms, and workplaces like nothing else. What players, managers, and clubs say and do—what they defend or challenge—shapes attitudes, especially among young men.
Stats back this up: men are more likely to change behavior when concerns are raised by other men they respect. Peer influence in male-dominated environments is powerful, and football has that influence in spades. The heat from this appointment—fan groups, statements, media coverage, debate—wouldn’t have happened without football. It put male violence against women on sports front pages in a way policy documents never could.
What Stepping Up Actually Looks Like for Men in Football
Men stepping up isn’t about performative allyship or solidarity statements. It’s about smaller, harder, more frequent choices: challenging a comment in the dressing room, not laughing at degrading jokes, being honest with a friend about witnessed behavior, listening when a woman says something made her uncomfortable instead of explaining it away.
It’s also about men with power and platform using them. When high-profile figures in football stay silent, their silence is a statement. The De Zerbi situation generated heat, but underneath lies a question the game must confront seriously: not just who we appoint, but what we teach, tolerate, and expect of men at every level.
This conversation was uncomfortable—and necessary. The question now is what football does with it.
