Dee Devlin is not Conor McGregor’s moral keeper. That’s his responsibility alone

When a man acts badly, we look at the women surrounding him for answers. Whether appropriate or not, if he has a female partner we turn our eyes towards her and form judgment on what she does or doesn’t say. Whether she stays or goes. Even the outfits she wore scurrying to and from court with her head down and face white from the bouncing flash of photographers.
Hillary Clinton found herself in the media crosshairs for her husband’s affair, even though he was the one who pursued an inappropriate relationship with a young White House intern. It was decided that she deserved to be picked apart despite finding out her husband was stepping out on her in the very public and unrelenting 24-7 media cycle.
When scandals push politicians from being described as “embattled” to “disgraced”, we look to their wives to see if they’re standing behind them at the press conference as they read a contrite statement of apology. Are they standing by their men? And is this a good or a bad thing?
After a High Court jury found, in a civil case, that Conor McGregor had assaulted Nikita Hand in a Dublin hotel room, attention narrowed on McGregor’s partner, Dee Devlin. Social media speculation flared about her “role” in the ordeal even though she was not present on the evening in question. Posts either victimised her, sympathised with her, castigated her for staying with the father of her four children, or labelled her complicit.
The speculation didn’t have to last long. She laid out her feelings on the situation in literal black and white on her Instagram stories. The text read, “Conor and I dealt with these issues privately many years ago, as should be done in a relationship and we have come out stronger than ever.” It was unclear whether she was referring to issues of infidelity or the accusations of rape levelled at her long-time partner.
[ From the very start Conor McGregor was telling us and showing us who he wasOpens in new window ]
Devlin also offered some thoughts in relation to Nikita Hand, the woman who had presented medical evidence to support her rape claims against McGregor. “Imagine a WOMAN, with her own boyfriend and child, texting provocative pictures of herself to another woman’s man with a family and child on the way,” a post read.
Another post promised: “My sons will be warned women like you exist in the world.”
The question remains, women like what? Women who take men to court? Women who seek remedy through the legal system? It is unclear what she meant exactly but if she is talking about the above, I have plenty of observations.
During my decade or so in journalism, I’ve covered courts off and on. I routinely meet people on the worst day of their life or when they have that day picked over and reconstructed to a public court with lawyers raking over every minute detail, down to the type of soap they used to shower afterwards. I have witnessed the quiet dignity of both male and female victims of sexual and physical abuse as they read their impact statements. Some shaking the paper so hard I can hear it crackle, some calmly detached and some looking back to their families almost as if to check what they’re hearing won’t be too hard on them.
I have seen these people come to court in shined shoes and ironed shirts to face down their alleged abusers. I see them in rooms and security queues that have them less than a metre away from their alleged offender. I have seen the tightly controlled faces, the refusal to give even a slightest hint of upset. I have seen parents in court, putting a hand on their adult child’s leg reassuringly as graphic details of injuries were read out.
I know the scrutiny a court case brings down on a complainant. On what they were doing or drinking or even wearing before an incident. The memory of a Penneys thong being used against a rape complainant in 2018 lives on. It is not something I’m sure I could go through myself if it ever came to it. I don’t know if I would have the mettle and hope I never have to find out. I am quietly awed by those who stand up outside the courthouse to address the media. Who can say a terrible thing has occurred to them but they pursued justice anyway, in a bid to encourage others to do the same. The focus should remain on them and their path to justice.
For this reason, when a man is accused of acting badly I am less interested in what the supporting cast of women in his life does or doesn’t say about it. Women are not men’s moral keepers. Our role is not to sit on their shoulders like tiny Jiminy Crickets with curly blow-drys to help them gain a conscience. That is their responsibility.