For nearly five decades, Allan Johnson was a teacher and a writer concerned with sexism, racism, hom*ophobia and the overarching system of patriarchy that informs modern culture. He was well known as a sociologist and was a popular speaker at colleges and in corporate settings.
“He was a real feminist,” said Jeffrey McChristian, a longtime friend. “He thought about things on a very deep level: oppression and patriarchy, power and privilege.”
Today, there are workshops, lectures and blogs that focus attention on these ideas, but Johnson was an outspoken feminist and advocate for social justice half a century ago. His work is as relevant today as when he first delivered talks to young audiences.
“He was one of the men who early on recognized that things that women were talking about were something men needed to pay attention to,” said Rob Okun, the publisher of Voice Male, a magazine dedicated to issues about masculinity.
Allan G. Johnson, who lived in Canton, died Dec. 24 of metastatic lymphoma. He was 71.
His best-known book, “The Gender Knot: Unraveling Our Patriarchal Legacy,” is in its third printing, and continues to be a staple in sociology classes.
“The respect that was felt by his colleagues was tremendous,” Okun said. “I think his reputation for promoting opposition to oppression is going to grow.”
In 2010, Johnson published “The First Thing and the Last,” a novel that describes domestic abuse so realistically that he had trouble finding a mainstream publisher. The book was recognized by Publisher’s Weekly and by O, the Oprah Magazine, for its sensitivity and compassion, and portrays the slow metamorphosis of a battered woman from trauma to healing. A second novel, “Nothing Left to Lose,” is about a father who served in World War II, but didn’t talk to his sons about violence and what war was really like.
Johnson, a tall man with a polished speaking style, was by nature an introvert who delighted in walking with his dog through the woods near his Canton home, swimming a mile a day, and playing jazz piano. As child, he loved the theater and acted in many plays. Though his family did not have a television when he was young, he and his sister used to make up Western “TV shows” that he would perform through a glass panel in the front door while his sister turned the “knobs.” He was a lacrosse player at Phillips Andover Academy in Andover, Mass., and went on to Dartmouth, where the sexist antics of fraternity initiations triggered an interest in efforts at social control and the ubiquity of male power.
“It was a very chauvinistic place,” said his sister, Annalee Johnson. “He recoiled from a lot of that machismo, and always questioned the status quo.”
While his message was direct, his manner was never threatening or guilt-inducing. His favorite metaphor for explaining white privilege was the game of Monopoly, where even playing with one’s child accompanies a fierce urge to win. “When you participate in Monopoly, it brings out the worst in you. A system of white privilege brings out the worst in you, and it’s really hard to opt out,” said his son, Paul Johnson.
Years ago, Allan Johnson stopped playing Monopoly — because the only way to win was to crush opponents. His goal was not to stigmatize beneficiaries of white privilege, but to help them realize that they were part of a system they did not control.
Freely admitting that he was male, white, straight, physically able and upper middle class, Johnson urged audiences to become self-aware but not guilt-ridden. He wanted to achieve social change by helping his listeners change their perspective and think, “‘I don’t need to carry the guilt of that system, but I do need to carry the responsibility for doing something about it,’” said McChristian.
Johnson was born on Jan. 26, 1946, to Valdemar Nels Johnson and Alice Griswold Johnson, and lived in Washington, D.C., until his father, whose background was Norwegian, was posted with his family to Oslo for several years with the U.S. Navy.
“Our family was a very intellectually curious, edgy group of people,” said Johnson’s sister, Annalee Johnson. “We grew up in a household where you were questioning authority, and we had rich conversations around the dinner table.”
After his parents divorced, his father was sent to diplomatic posts around Europe and Canada and he and his siblings lived with their mother in Andover, Mass. “She was a can-do person, a very strong woman’s role model for all of us,” said Annalee.
Johnson graduated from Dartmouth in 1968 and earned his doctorate in sociology at the University of Michigan with a dissertation on women’s roles in Mexico.
“He saw violence against women, and was interested in a sociological perspective,” said his son Paul. He taught sociology at Wesleyan University, where he wrote “Social Statistics Without Tears,” and became interested in the issues behind male violence against women. He volunteered at a Hartford rape crisis center and developed a college course on gender that studied male privilege and patriarchal systems.
After leaving Wesleyan in the late 1970’s, Johnson taught women’s studies and sociology at Hartford College for Women. He developed a following as a speaker, served on the board of the Connecticut Coalition Against Domestic Violence and testified in the General Assembly on laws to protect the victims of sexual assault.
After “The Gender Knot” was first published in 1997, he continued teaching but was in demand increasingly as a consultant and speaker around the country. He wrote frequent blog posts about the increase in gun violence and its connection to assaults against women.
“They kept happening and people kept asking what do we need to do,” said Paul Johnson. “He reposted the same things: No one is doing anything to address the root causes of the violence.”
Despite recent outbursts of violence around the world, Johnson worried that his ideas were slow in being adopted. “People were finally understanding that violence against women was a real thing, [but] it was slow progress,” Paul said.
Johnson’s speaking style was non-confrontational. “He had amazing ways of talking about issues without feeling attacked,” his son said. While he believed individuals needed to acknowledge participation in a patriarchal system, he did not believe collective guilt was either a panacea or a solution. “I’m a bad person” was not a helpful response. “He had a way of setting that aside by talking in an abstract way and people would really connect,” his son said.
As a father of a young son and a daughter, he tried to model the behavior of a man who did not seek control. He discouraged fighting back against bullies, for example. “He helped me understand the pressures these boys must be feeling; it gave me more empathy for them,” his son said. “Acknowledge the humanity of the bully and defuse him. There were no really bad guys in dad’s world. We were all human beings just doing the best things we can.”
As an adult, Johnson studied jazz piano and revered pianist Bill Evans. He acted in community theater productions and was a master at charades.
Johnson, whose marriage, to Charlotte Eschenheimer ended in divorce, is survived by his partner, Nora L. Jamieson; his son, Paul; his daughter, Emily Johnson; four grandchildren; a sister, Annalee Johnson; and a brother, Paul D. Johnson.
“He was not political as much as he cared very deeply for the oppressed of the world. He was an advocate and explainer of patriarchy and race,” said Annalee Johnson.
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