Naomi Wolf, from her book Fire with Fire, chides female students who complain of sexual harassment because of Berkeley's infamous "Naked Guy":

He'd offered himself up naked to the female gaze, and in doing this taught himself about the female experience, for he had made himself more vulnerable to the eyes than women were... What could be more tender, more honest? Isn't this just what we say we hope men will do, metaphorically—become naked to us, come to us freely in the responsive skin of their humanity, show us who they are, potent and gentle, shed of costumes and armature? How could women repudiate a gesture like that in the name of 'feminist' delicacy?

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