“Masculinity transcends cultures”

Quentin Delval grew up in the Belgian city of Charleroi. His father, a journalist, had a “thick Brussels accent and a sharp eye for language,” and delighted in “taking news anchors to task for using sloppy language and made-up words.” This cultured upbringing instilled in him a love for language and words, although he never picked up the local accent. “My mother was Romanian, from Bucharest,” says Delval. “She rolled her Rs with a noticeable trill. I think these two competing influences created a kind of balance. I was aware of accents and could tell that my friends spoke with a Belgian drawl. Nowadays the tables are turned: they’re the ones teasing me for my Swiss twang!”

For his studies, Delval headed to Louvain-la-Neuve: “For my PhD in philosophy of science, I wrote my thesis on scientific expertise. My research examined how expert insights, which are often complicated, can be communicated in an understandable and accessible way to support democratic, inclusive decision-making. I looked in particular at the way in which experts are often isolated in modern society – at how they bear the burden of both responsibility and criticism, and are sometimes treated as scapegoats.”

After completing his PhD and suffering several academic and romantic setbacks, the time came for Delval to leave his native Belgium – at least for a while. He even forgot to collect his degree certificate, only returning to collect it 10 years later – unaware that the examiners had written a glowing report, urging him to continue his research.

An egalitarian by heart

In 2012, Delval moved to Switzerland, where he joined the Rectorate of the University of Applied Sciences and Arts of Western Switzerland (HES-SO) as an equal opportunity officer. “The job description sounded like something I could get excited about!” he says. What he didn’t know at the time was that the school’s equality network was made up almost exclusively of women. To supplement his income, he also taught philosophy and prepared students for the maturité high-school diploma exams, which are held at EPFL.

Having found an environment he was comfortable in, Delval took an interest in feminist literature, talked about safety with his sister and began speaking with a woman from Quebec. “Quebec is a trailblazer when it comes to equality,” he says. But for all his knowledge, he couldn’t shake off certain male biases: “When I became a parent, I came face to face with my biases. I began to question my view of myself as a man who was doing enough and understood everything.”

The “free pass” afforded to men

Delval’s book, published by Hors d’atteinte, is entitled Comment devenir moins con en dix étapes (A Ten-Step Guide to Becoming Less of a Male Idiot). What prompted him to choose such a provocative, ego-bruising title? Was he trying to moralize and point the finger of blame? Far from it: the book is a seminal, introspective work born of feminist sensitivities and Delval’s own dawning awareness. It also came about somewhat by chance.

“I wrote a post about the mental load that falls on women during vacations,” he explains. “While we men enjoy spending time with our children, our partners still bear the burden of domestic chores – and in an unfamiliar place.” He shared his piece with a female blogger who’d written something similar. She posted it on social media and Hors d’atteinte, the publishing house, reached out to him. “The editorial team, made up entirely of women, was looking for a man to write about typically feminist issues, including the gendered division of tasks,” he says.

Delval’s 300-page book delves into men’s shirking of emotional labor, the excuses they make, and how the idea of a “free pass” is embedded in social norms and the way boys are brought up. “The term ‘free pass’ neatly captures how we, as a society, permit men to avoid responsibility without repercussions. For example, men can choose to not get up with the baby at night or not do the shopping. They’re allowed to spend more time with their friends and work late at the expense of doing household chores.”

A listening ear

Delval joined EPFL’s Equal Opportunity Office last semester. “My boss, Hélène Fugger, told me that she’d bought my book but hadn’t read it yet,” he says. What prompted him to apply for the position? “Partly because EPFL is a male-dominated place,” he explains. “From my experience of talking to men, I’ve come to understand that masculinity transcends cultures. I’m ready to listen with humility and to speak with those who are unconvinced about the importance of equality.”

One initiative Delval is working on is EPFL Without Barriers, which aims to create an inclusive environment for people with reduced mobility, visual impairment, autism, mental health conditions, and other visible and invisible disabilities. “An assessment was carried out recently at EPFL that resulted in recommendations for improving general accessibility,” he explains. “It covered a number of areas: the School’s approach, digital accessibility, safety-oriented construction, employment and work, outdoor spaces and mobility, studies and teaching, and events.”

Delval is fully behind equality initiatives at EPFL, stressing the importance of building on the progress that is now enshrined in law and in EPFL’s rules, policies and fundamental values. “At time of increasing polarization and setbacks on equality worldwide – as reflected in the abrupt closure of federal diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility offices in the United States, for example – it’s vital to protect what we’ve achieved so far.”