It has been a good week or so for Taiwan, where I was born. My heart burst as I watched the crowd of supporters packing the streets of Taipei, waving coloured bands and beaming with delight as they celebrated Taiwan's legalisation of same-sex marriage. The news offered some comfort against the anguish that came a day later, when my adopted country of Australia reinstated a deeply conservative government. But the parade that celebrated a monumental advancement in Taiwan’s history left a small feeling of discomfort within. I had been in Taipei in early March, and attended the annual Women’s Day March, which aimed to highlight issues including gender violence, social inequality and reproductive rights. It was attended by around 100 people. At the same-sex marriage celebrations, more than 40,000 people lined the streets around the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall. The discrepancy in numbers troubled me. Why is there such a stigma in Taiwan about highlighting women’s rights? Crystal Liu, the founder of Taiwan’s Women’s March, told me that many people refuse to acknowledge the gender division and imbalance in Taiwan and prefer to believe gender equality has been achieved on account of there being a female president. “Some people are not familiar with sexual harassment and assault,” she said. “There isn’t much education or discussion of such topics, so it’s still taboo.” One thing in particular that strikes me as peculiar and deeply concerning is the lack of public anger over the multiple cases of women dying at the hands of men. In the past 18 months alone, at least 14 women have been killed by men in gruesome ways. Yet, there appears to be an absence of widespread support for victims of gender violence, and little public commentary about the misogyny that leads to these existential threats against half the population. In May last year, a 28-year-old fitness instructor killed his girlfriend, then chopped her body up and placed the pieces in plastic bags. Two days after the murder, the man killed himself. He wrote: “She wronged me” in his suicide note. In the same month, a 67-year-old man murdered his wife after she asked for a divorce. He killed himself the same day after chopping up his wife’s body. Later that week, a 27-year old man killed his 26-year-old girlfriend, before killing himself. He also cut the woman’s body into pieces. The following week, the most high-profile case in 2018 occurred — that of the Huashan murder, where a 37-year old archery instructor killed and chopped up a 30-year-old woman after she refused his sexual advances. In Taiwan, these criminals are often called “terrorist lovers” (恐怖情人): men who, overcome by jealousy or rage when their sense of entitlement to a woman is disrupted, commit violence. Historically, such crimes have been met with a tightening of legal consequences, as the government, spurred on by the public, increases jail sentences for perpetrators of violent crime. But, as Emily Bazelon notes in her recent book, Charged: The New Movement to Transform American Prosecution and End Mass Incarceration , mandatory minimum sentencing and higher prosecution rates do not necessarily reduce crime. Taiwan, like the United States, has a dominant model of retribution as opposed to rehabilitation. Capital punishment remains in force, and 80 per cent of the population support it. But the source of much of the violent crime against women remains deeply embedded within society, that is, patriarchal views that insist women are the property of men, subject to their control and laws. Where are the public conversations calling out the misogynistic, victim-blaming rhetoric of the media? For instance, abortion is legal in Taiwan, but only under certain conditions. If you are a woman and you find yourself pregnant, you may have an abortion only if the fetus is the result of rape or incest, or if carrying the fetus to term poses health risks to you or your child. Furthermore, if you are married, a minor, or mentally ill, you must gain spousal, parental or guardian authorisation to legally have the procedure. Where are the rallying cries against such blatantly sexist, discriminatory laws? Where are the public conversations calling out the misogynistic, victim-blaming rhetoric of the media? In March, a popular news site reported that a woman had been evicted from her flat after accusing a man of sexually assaulting her. The landlord had told the woman: “It’s your fault, you’re too pretty”, and asked her to leave “for causing trouble”. Many women I spoke to in Taiwan told me the constrained ideologies of feminine morality are often policed by other women. Liu echoes these sentiments, saying: “Instead of telling women how to protect themselves or seek help, people advise them not to stay out late and even blame the women for getting themselves into trouble.” A strong, island-wide cultural shift needs to take place for Taiwan to become a fairer, more egalitarian society. The patriarchal ideology that continues to disrupt the lives of women needs to end. Only then, will we see a reduction in violent crime against women, and an end to the biased treatment of half the population. Jessie Tu is a journalist and writer based in Taipei and Sydney whose recent work examines gender, race and culture across East Asia and Australia