CLARE FOGES: Night I had to flee my home into the street and learned the hard way that women need to stop being so nice

A Brit, even if they are alone, forms an orderly queue of one. No one waits their turn like us.No other nation says ‘thank you’ more than us either – fact. In no other country is ‘sorry’ scattered through conversation like confetti: ‘sorry for brushing past’; ‘sorry, do you have the time?’ Politeness is our badge of honour.But it can also work against us. A new campaign warns that British courtesy is being exploited by fraudsters who keep us yakking on the phone, all the better to scam us.A survey finds that 53 per cent of us stay on calls, unable to bring the thing to a conclusion for fear of looking rude. Meanwhile only 43 per cent of Americans do the same. Presumably once the penny drops they bark a ‘see ya later, punk!’ a la Dirty Harry.And so the Take Five To Stop Fraud national campaign is encouraging us to ‘master the art of impoliteness’. Fronted by Strictly’s famously sharp-tongued judge Craig Revel Horwood, we are being encouraged to jettison concerns about being polite; to treat unwarranted callers with the same derision as dancers who have just delivered a lacklustre cha-cha-cha.A spokeswoman from the campaign said the aim is to give people ‘permission to put protection before politeness’. It is sound advice that we should all heed – and women most of all.Despite decades of feminism, the belief that girls should embody sugar, spice and all things nice still lingers. Yes, if you talk about the ‘societal conditioning of women’, you sound like someone who would blame getting a parking ticket on ‘the patriarchy’.But it is true. Somewhere along the line we imbibe the idea that the highest female quality is niceness – and this means women are polite when they really shouldn’t be. Not just on the phone to fraudsters but in far more dangerous situations. I have long wondered how many crimes perpetrated against women happen partly because a woman is too polite - to say no, to act on a sense of unease, writes Clare FogesI have long wondered how many crimes perpetrated against women happen partly because a woman is too polite – to say no, to act on a sense of unease, to reject the offer of a walk home.I wonder because it almost happened to me. While on a trip overseas about 15 years ago, I met a friendly Canadian man at a hostel. We played a board game, had a beer – that was it.I gave him my number because that’s what you do when you’re travelling: ‘If you’re ever in London, let me know!’A few months later he was indeed in town. Did I fancy a drink? Here was my first opportunity to say ‘no’. It was a cold evening, I was tired and wanted to head straight home from work. I’d only met the bloke for an hour or so before. In the same situation a man would have ignored the text message. But up popped Miss Polite, a honey-toned inner voice: he’s so far from home! It would be rude not to meet.In a West End bar one drink turned into three. I was bored and longing to go home – but Miss Polite over-ruled such rudeness. It would hurt his feelings, after all. I would stay until last orders then bid him farewell.When time at the bar was called, I started making my exit.‘We must do it again when you’re next in town,’ I fluffed, though, again, this was the last thing I wanted to say.He started insisting on walking me home. ‘Honestly, that’s really kind but it’s not far and it’s well-lit,’ I protested. But he carried on insisting, it felt awkward and Miss Polite over-ruled yet again. He’s trying to do the gallant thing! So off we went.At my door there were a few excruciating minutes when I tried to bid him goodbye, door key in hand, while he stood rooted to the spot.He was starving, he said. Could he come in for some toast before heading back to his hotel?I muttered something weakly about needing to get to bed as I had an early start – but Miss Polite found the awkwardness too much. OK, come in for a bit.Inside, the unease increased. My Canadian guest soon settled himself on the sofa like a 6ft slug and declared that he was much too tired to head back to his hotel; would I mind if he kipped here? I did mind – very much – but what could I say? Insisting on him leaving would be an admission that I thought he was dodgy – and I didn’t want to be rude. Just as fraudsters exploit politeness, so predators exploit female courtesySo I went to my bedroom, shut the door, turned off the light. Within a few minutes a figure was silhouetted in the doorway. Then on the bed. I tried to push him away: impossible. Utter terror.‘Wait!’ I said. ‘I need a glass of water.’ I ran out of the bedroom and closed the door. What to do? I bolted out of my own flat and onto a deserted central London street. It was 1am.Across the road there was a hotel with its lobby lights on. I banged on the door, which was answered by a night porter. ‘Please can you let me in? A man in my flat is about to attack me.’Thankfully, he took pity on the strange woman in pyjamas and let me stay the night on the lobby sofa until the safety of morning – when I returned to my flat and booted out the bleary-eyed pillock.The incident was shocking – not so much because of the attempted attack but because of how we got there. Growing up I had always assumed that such danger would come leaping out of a dark alleyway, not creeping stealthily towards me with a smile while I acquiesced at every stage due to a mixture of politeness, awkwardness and not wanting to appear rude.This, I realised, is how it often happens. Just as fraudsters exploit politeness, so predators exploit female courtesy. The discomfort of upsetting someone by turning down a request for help.Perhaps the most notorious example is Ted Bundy, who killed dozens of women in the 1970s. He frequently wore a fake plaster cast on his arm, pretending to struggle while loading items into his car, before seeking help from a lone woman. Bundy was as clever as he was evil; it’s much harder to be rude to a vulnerable, injured man. Those women paid for their politeness with their lives.Black cab rapist John Worboys was also canny about the weak spot of female politeness. His technique was to pretend he had enjoyed a big casino win before offering women passengers a glass of alcohol so they could celebrate with him; how could they refuse without causing offence? The drink was laced with a drug that would render them unconscious.Carrie Johnson – whose brave campaigning on this has ensured that Worboys is still behind bars – wrote an account of being in the back of his taxi, which captures perfectly how female politeness is preyed upon.On being offered a glass of champagne, she says: ‘I didn’t really want a drink but, not wanting to seem rude, I accepted the glass through the hatch in the cab.’ Later in the journey he brought out a bottle of vodka. ‘I’d never been much of a drinker and I was ready to get home and go to bed. But I didn’t want to disappoint him or appear rude…’ Carrie had in fact, poured the champagne onto the floor of the cab.This is the instinct exploited by so many. We are uneasy at the advance but don’t want to seem rude. We don’t want to accept the lift but don’t want to seem rude. This reluctance to make a scene is doubly true when it affects those we know – and the vast majority of sex attacks against women (around 90 per cent) are committed not by strangers lurking in bushes but friends, family members, partners.How much more awkward is it to be firm with these people?The message of the anti-fraud campaign should go out but more widely: you have permission to put protection before politeness.When they are older, I will be instructing my daughters that if they feel the slightest unease (the ‘ick’, as young people say), they must trust their instincts.Turn down the lift, say no thank you, draw a boundary with no apologies. Because while manners maketh the man, good manners can harmeth the woman.