The experience of Associazione LUI: An Italian BIP – Faculty: Giulia De Gioia, Gabriele Lessi and Jacopo Piampiani: Italy

We present below the speech given by Associazione LUI at the 29th BISC-MI 2025 Annual Conference – “Spotlight on Solutions: From Intervention to Transformation”, held from November 4 to 6, 2025, where Associazione LUI was the first Italian organization invited to speak on the sensitive issue of men who use violence.

In the spirit of intellectual honesty, what follows is partially a re-elaboration developed also with the help of ChatGPT, but it fully reflects our views.
Enjoy your reading:

[David Garvin]:
I’d like to invite our friends from Italy to the stage.
I’ll let Jacopo, Gabriele, and Giulia introduce themselves. The slides will start from here.

Giulia:
Hello everyone.
I’m truly very moved — not only because this is my first time speaking at a conference, but also because of everything I have received in this space, where we’d like to contribute by sharing our experience.

My name is Giulia, and here with me are my colleagues Gabriele and Jacopo.
We come from Italy — specifically from Livorno, a small seaside city in Tuscany.
We represent Associazione LUI, an organization that, along with other initiatives and services, also runs a CUAV.

As I mentioned, we wanted to contribute to this wonderful event by sharing our experience and explaining the program for men who use violence that we run.

I will talk to you about the context in which all this happens — because, as we’ve heard many times here, understanding and reading the context is essential for grasping the reasons behind choices.

After me, Gabriele, who is a lawyer, will talk about the legal framework in Italy.
Finally, Jacopo will describe in more detail how our program — called P.U.M. CUAV — is concretely structured.

“P.U.M.” is an acronym for Programma Uomini Maltrattanti (Program for Men Who Use Violence), but it’s also the onomatopoeic sound “PUM!”, like in comic books when someone throws a punch.

CUAV, on the other hand, is the official acronym we are required to use by law: Centro per uomini autori o potenziali autori di violenza domestica, sessuale e di genere — Center for Men Who Have Committed or Are at Risk of Committing Domestic, Sexual, or Gender-Based Violence.

We are here to share, but also to learn.
I’ve already learned so much from all of you.
Thank you for your community spirit, your openness, and your inspiring experiences.

I’d also like to thank Valentina, Daria, Pino, Matteo, and Giorgio, who are back in Italy working while we are here with you.

Now, let me tell you a bit about the Italian context.

I am an interpreter and translator specialized in psychology and transactional analysis, and I am also a counselor in TA.

After graduating, I was looking for a way to apply what I had studied, and I began collaborating with Casa della Donna in Pisa — an association that runs a women’s anti-violence center offering phone counseling and a shelter for women survivors of violence.

I worked there for about five years, listening to countless stories.
There, I discovered the concept of a local anti-violence network, what in the U.S. is known as the CCR – Coordinated Community Response — and it completely changed the way I saw my city.

I started exploring the various services, how they functioned, and tried to better understand the overall phenomenon of gender-based violence.

As often happens, one opportunity led to another: around 2018 I took part, as an interpreter, in an Erasmus+ project with five other European countries, where I met Gabriele and Jacopo — who had already founded their association.

I was struck by their enthusiasm, curiosity, and eagerness to learn.
So I began working with them, and today I coordinate the team and co-facilitate both men’s and women’s groups.

Now, a brief historical overview:

• 1945: With the country destroyed by World War II, Italian women gained the right to vote, which they exercised the following year when the people were called to choose whether Italy should become a Republic or remain a monarchy.
• 1948: Article 3 of the new Constitution established equality between the sexes.
• 1968: The protest and feminist movements brought new awareness, paving the way for a decade of major social achievements, such as the legalization of divorce (1970) and abortion (1978).
• 1981: The crime of honor was abolished — until then, a man who believed that a female relative (wife, daughter, mother, etc.) had “dishonored” him could receive a reduced sentence if he killed her.
• 1996: Rape was finally recognized as a crime against the person (and not against public morality).
• 2011: I want to highlight this year because it marks the signing of the Istanbul Convention, the first European treaty for the prevention and fight against gender-based violence.
• 2019: The so-called Codice Rosso (“Red Code”) law was passed, strengthening measures against domestic violence.
• 2022: For the first time, national standards for CUAVs were introduced.
  A few figures (updated just a few weeks ago):
• In 2025, more than 70 women were killed in Italy — the vast majority in intimate contexts.

Women represent 75% of victims of physical or psychological violence, and 91% of victims of sexual violence.

Now, a lighter part: the story of our association.
Everything started with a friendship.

Gabriele and Jacopo met through mutual friends and discovered they were asking themselves the same question:
“What does it mean to be a man in today’s Italian society?”
What challenges, stereotypes, difficulties, opportunities, and privileges come with that?

So they created their first men’s self-awareness group, inspired by the feminist consciousness-raising groups of the 1970s.
They were all volunteers, driven by a desire to understand and reflect on their role as men in society.

That was the first structured activity of the Association, which today — about seventeen years later — organizes public events, training programs, men’s awareness groups, fatherhood groups, as well as a listening helpline, and of course, the program for men who use violence (P.U.M. CUAV).

On our website, we publish articles, film and book reviews, and podcast suggestions that deal with issues related to gender stereotypes, violence, and relationships.
We often use them during the groups as discussion materials.

The P.U.M. program is designed for men who have committed or are at risk of committing domestic, sexual, or gender-based violence.
Groups meet twice a week and work on topics such as:

1. Awareness of one’s actions;
2. Personal responsibility;
3. Deconstruction of gender stereotypes;
4. Understanding of legal consequences.
5. Each group is facilitated by two leaders with different backgrounds, experiences, and characteristics.

We strongly believe in a multidisciplinary and integrated approach — like a puzzle where each person brings their own piece: professional expertise, life experience, perspective, personality.
Only by combining different viewpoints can we truly understand the problem.

Now I’ll hand it over to Gabriele, for the legal section.

(Gabriele’s speech – The legal and institutional framework in Italy)
Gabriele:
Thank you, Giulia.
And thank you all for being here — it’s an honor for us to be able to share our experience in such an important space.

As Giulia said, I am a lawyer, and I will try to give you a brief but comprehensive overview of how, in Italy, the system addressing men’s violence against women has evolved — and how CUAVs, the centers for men who use violence, fit within that framework.

Let’s start from a simple observation:
Italy — like many other European countries — has a complex legal system that has gradually adapted to international standards, often under the impulse of European directives and international treaties, rather than through spontaneous national evolution.

This means that many innovations have come from above, that is, through laws or European requirements, rather than from below, through local initiatives.
Yet, there has always been a vibrant civil society movement — especially feminist organizations — that has strongly influenced both legislation and public awareness.

The turning point was, as Giulia mentioned, the Council of Europe Convention on preventing and combating violence against women and domestic violence, known as the Istanbul Convention, signed in 2011 and ratified by Italy in 2013.

That ratification forced Italy to structure a national strategy, based on four pillars, the so-called “4 Ps”:

Prevention,
Protection,
Prosecution, and
Policies — that is, integrated and coordinated public policies.
Following that, Italy established its National Strategic Plans on Male Violence against Women, renewed every three years.
The first covered the period 2017–2020, the second 2021–2023, and the third, currently in force, covers 2024–2027.

Within these plans, CUAVs — that is, our type of program — were officially recognized as one of the tools of secondary and tertiary prevention.
They are therefore not “therapeutic centers,” nor services for mental health or couples’ counseling, but public-interest programs aimed at social responsibility and the prevention of re-offending.

However, a CUAV cannot exist in isolation: it must be part of a local anti-violence network, which includes at least:

A women’s anti-violence center,
The police and judicial authorities,
Social and health services,
The local government,
And sometimes schools or community agencies.
In this sense, the model is very close to what, in the U.S., is known as the CCR – Coordinated Community Response.

The philosophy is the same:

No single service can effectively address the problem of domestic or gender-based violence on its own.
It requires shared language, coordination, constant communication, and above all, a common understanding of the problem.

In Italy, CUAVs are required by law to meet a series of minimum standards, adopted at the national level in 2022.
These standards specify, among other things:

The professional requirements for facilitators;
The structure of the programs (minimum 6 hours per month, for at least 12 months);
The need for an initial assessment and a final evaluation;
The obligation to collaborate with the local anti-violence network and prioritize the safety of the victim.
In fact, according to the law, the woman’s safety must always come before any goal related to the man’s change.

This principle is not negotiable.
If a man in our program shows signs of escalation, or if new violent episodes are reported, our duty is to immediately inform the relevant authorities and the women’s center, so that risk can be re-assessed.

Now, regarding referrals:
Men can come to CUAVs in different ways.

Some come voluntarily, after a personal crisis or separation.
Others are sent by social services, often in connection with child custody proceedings.
And others are referred by the judicial system, as part of alternative or complementary measures to imprisonment.
Our program, the P.U.M. CUAV, works with all three types of access.

We believe it is important to maintain voluntary access open, because it allows us to intercept situations before they reach the criminal stage — what we call primary prevention through early intervention.

At the same time, the judicial referrals allow us to work with men who otherwise would not seek help on their own — and who often need to face more directly the legal and social consequences of their actions.

Another interesting aspect is that CUAVs, by law, must operate in connection with the local women’s anti-violence center.
In our case, this is precisely Casa della Donna in Pisa, the association where Giulia used to work.

This collaboration is not always simple — there are different perspectives, languages, and sometimes tensions — but it is essential.
Because without dialogue, coordination, and information sharing, the whole system becomes weaker.

Let me give you an example:
When a man joins our program, we always contact the women’s center to inform them that we have a new participant, and to verify whether his partner or ex-partner is known to them.
If she is, we activate a safety protocol and maintain constant communication.
If she isn’t, the women’s center still records the information, so that if she later seeks help, the center already knows he’s in a program.

This is how a local CCR works: by ensuring that no woman’s safety depends solely on chance.

Now, a few words about the “Red Code” law (Codice Rosso), adopted in 2019.
This reform significantly shortened the time between a report of violence and the first hearing with the prosecutor — it must now take place within three days.
It also introduced new crimes, such as:

Revenge porn (unauthorized dissemination of sexually explicit material),
Forced marriage,
Violation of restraining orders, and
Deformation of a person’s appearance through permanent injuries (a crime that particularly targets acid attacks).
Finally, the latest innovation came in 2022, when CUAVs were officially included in the National Register of services accredited by the government — this means they can now access public funding and operate within a standardized framework.

To conclude my part, I’d like to stress one more thing:
Italy is still at the beginning of this journey.
CUAVs are growing rapidly, but there are still many regions without one, and the need for training, monitoring, and coordination remains very high.

That’s why opportunities like this conference are so valuable — they allow us to connect with experiences from countries like the United States, where programs for men who use violence have a much longer history and more robust scientific evaluation.

We truly hope to learn from you, to build bridges, and to continue developing an approach that is both accountable and compassionate, grounded in responsibility and respect for victims.

Thank you.

(Jacopo’s speech – Structure and philosophy of the P.U.M. CUAV program)
Jacopo:
Thank you, Gabriele.
And thank you all — it’s really an honor to be here, and we’re very grateful for the warm welcome we’ve received.

I will now tell you more concretely about how our program works — its structure, its objectives, and the way we try to engage men in a process of awareness and change.

As Giulia and Gabriele have already explained, our program is called P.U.M. CUAV — Program for Men Who Use Violence.
It is both an acronym and a symbolic word, because PUM! in Italian comics is the sound of a punch — and that helps us remember what we’re dealing with: the real, physical, and symbolic impact of male violence.

The first thing I want to emphasize is that our work is not therapy.
We are not therapists, and our goal is not to “fix” men or make them feel better about themselves.
Our goal is accountability — to help them recognize and take responsibility for the harm they have caused, and to prevent them from repeating it.

We often say:

“You are not here because you are sick, but because you have hurt someone.”
Of course, many men come with psychological suffering — anxiety, shame, guilt, depression — but those are consequences, not causes, of their violent behavior.

Our approach is therefore psychoeducational and socio-relational, not clinical.
We work through group dynamics, dialogue, and reflection.

Now, let me describe how the program is structured.

1. Intake and assessment
The process starts when a man contacts us or is referred to us.
The first step is an individual interview — or sometimes several — where we:

Collect basic information about his situation,
Understand the context of the violence,
Assess his motivation,
And evaluate whether he is suitable for group work.
During this stage, we also sign a contract of participation, which includes very clear commitments:

To attend regularly,
To avoid any violent or threatening behavior during the program,
To cooperate with social or judicial services,
And, most importantly, to accept that the priority is always the safety of the woman.
If the man refuses this principle, he cannot enter the group.

When possible, we also gather information from the referring service and, if appropriate, from the women’s center, in order to build a more accurate risk assessment.

2. Group sessions
Once accepted, the man joins a closed group (not open entry), composed of a maximum of 10 participants, with two facilitators — usually one man and one woman.
We meet twice a week, for two hours each time.

Each cycle lasts 12 months minimum, and often continues longer, depending on the individual’s path.

We use various methods:

Guided discussions,
Role-playing,
Analysis of real situations,
Reading short texts or watching short videos,
And individual self-reflection exercises.
The group setting is fundamental.
It’s in the group that excuses, minimizations, and justifications are exposed and challenged — not in a punitive way, but by holding up a mirror.

When a man says:

“Yes, but I only slapped her once,”
another man may answer:

“That’s what I used to say too, until I realized it wasn’t just once.”
This peer confrontation, when guided safely and respectfully, can be much more effective than any lecture.

3. Core themes
The topics we work on include:

Responsibility and denial mechanisms;
The cycle of violence and its escalation;
Gender stereotypes and patriarchal culture;
Emotions and control — understanding anger, frustration, and jealousy;
Communication and conflict management;
Fatherhood and the impact of violence on children;
Legal consequences and social accountability.
We dedicate particular attention to empathy — not as a soft skill, but as an ethical exercise: trying to understand how one’s actions have affected another person’s body, mind, and life.

Sometimes we ask simple but powerful questions, like:

“What do you think your partner felt in that moment?”
“What would you say to her if she were sitting here now?”
The goal is not to seek forgiveness, but to face reality.

4. Monitoring and evaluation
Throughout the process, we maintain contact with the referring services and the women’s center.
We periodically review each man’s progress — in terms of attendance, participation, and observed behavioral change.

At the end of the program, we conduct an exit interview and a final evaluation, which may include a written report to the referring authority.

We also conduct follow-ups after six and twelve months, to assess stability over time.

5. Collaboration and training
Our work doesn’t end with the group.
We regularly organize training sessions for professionals — social workers, teachers, police officers, health personnel — to promote awareness and build bridges between services.

Because, as Gabriele said, violence is a systemic problem.
No one can tackle it alone.
The man who uses violence is not an isolated monster — he’s a product of a culture that normalizes control, possession, and domination.
Working with him also means working on that culture.

That’s why we collaborate with schools and universities, where we talk about emotional education and masculinities.
We often quote a line we love:

“If we want to stop violence against women, we must start talking to men — not to blame them, but to involve them.”
6. Challenges and reflections
Of course, this work is not easy.
We constantly face contradictions, doubts, and resistance.
Sometimes we feel powerless, or frustrated.
Sometimes we witness relapse.

But we’ve learned to value process over outcome.
Even when change seems small, it can be significant.
If a man learns to stop before shouting, or if a woman tells us she feels a little safer, that’s already a success.

Another challenge is societal ambivalence:
On one side, there is condemnation of violence; on the other, there is still strong tolerance toward sexist behavior and domination.
We live in a society that says “violence is wrong,” but still laughs at sexist jokes.

So, part of our work is also cultural advocacy — trying to shift the narrative, to promote different models of masculinity:
men who can be strong without being dominant, who can take responsibility without losing dignity.

7. The role of facilitators
Finally, I want to say a word about the facilitators.
They are the heart of the program.
Our teams are always mixed — a man and a woman — because we believe that co-facilitation itself models equality and mutual respect.

Facilitators must constantly work on themselves: on their own emotions, their stereotypes, their triggers.
We meet regularly for supervision and peer support, because this work can be emotionally demanding.

The greatest satisfaction comes when we see small but genuine transformations — when a man begins to take responsibility, when he stops blaming others, when he starts naming his actions for what they are.

As one participant once said:

“For the first time, I realized that I’m not a bad person — but I did bad things. And now I want to be someone who doesn’t do them anymore.”
That’s why we do this work.
To help men become agents of change, not only for themselves, but for their families and communities.

Thank you very much.

[Moderator]:
Thank you so much, that was incredibly informative and heartfelt.
We now have a few minutes for questions from the audience.

[Audience member #1]:
Thank you for your presentation. I’d like to know: in your experience, what are the main motivations that bring men to your program?
Is it mostly fear of legal consequences, or is there also a genuine desire to change?

Jacopo:
Thank you for the question — it’s a very good one.
The truth is, there’s rarely a single reason.
Most men come because something has broken — a relationship, a family, or a court order that forces them to face what happened.

Some arrive because they fear losing their children.
Others because they’ve been sent by a judge.
And a few come because they are sincerely tired of repeating the same patterns, of living in conflict and control.

We don’t require perfect motivation at the start — that would be unrealistic.
What we ask is a minimum of openness and availability to reflect.
Sometimes change starts from a very small crack, and then grows over time.

We also work a lot on the difference between feeling sorry for oneself and taking responsibility.
Many men come full of self-pity — “I lost everything,” “She ruined my life.”
Our job is to help them shift focus:

“What have you done? What can you do now to make things different?”

[Audience member #2]:
I was struck by the collaboration between your program and the women’s anti-violence center.
In some countries, that cooperation can be very difficult.
How did you build that relationship?

Giulia:
That’s a great question — and yes, it was not easy!
When we started, there was a lot of distrust, and rightly so.
The feminist movement in Italy has fought for decades to have women’s experiences of violence recognized and taken seriously, and many activists saw programs for men as potentially dangerous — as if they could shift focus away from the victims.

We understood that fear, and we never tried to deny it.
Instead, we approached with humility, by listening and building small steps of cooperation.

For example, we invited women from the Casa della Donna to come and observe our groups, and we went to observe their work at the center.
We also started to exchange anonymous information — about risk, about safety — always with the woman’s consent and in her best interest.

Little by little, trust grew.
Now we meet regularly, we plan joint training sessions, and we share a common language.
We know we are on the same side — not working for men, but working for women’s safety through men’s responsibility.

[Audience member #3]:
I’d like to ask Gabriele — since you’re a lawyer — what kind of coordination exists between CUAVs and the justice system?
Do judges and prosecutors actually trust your programs?

Gabriele:
That’s an excellent and very practical question.
The answer is: it depends!

In some regions of Italy, the collaboration is already well established.
Courts refer men directly to accredited CUAVs, and the programs send periodic progress reports back to the judge.

In other areas, the judicial world still doesn’t know these programs very well — so part of our work is also institutional education.
We hold meetings with prosecutors, family judges, and probation officers to explain what we do, what we don’t do, and how we evaluate progress.

The key point is that a CUAV is not a “soft option” or an alternative punishment.
It’s a structured, demanding process that requires time, effort, and accountability.
The goal is not leniency, but prevention and social responsibility.

We always insist that participation in the program does not replace judicial consequences — it’s a complement, not a substitute.

And when judges see serious, transparent work — supported by clear documentation and collaboration with women’s centers — trust begins to grow.

[Audience member #4]:
Have you ever involved the children of the men who attend your program?

Jacopo:
That’s a delicate question, and the answer is yes — but indirectly.
We don’t work directly with children; we are not a family service.
But we talk about children constantly in our groups.

Many men initially say, “I never hurt my children.”
Then, through reflection, they begin to realize:

“Yes, maybe they never saw me hit their mother, but they heard the shouting, they saw her crying, they lived in fear.”
That awareness can be very powerful.
Sometimes it’s the first moment when a man truly understands the impact of his actions.

We also collaborate with local social services and child protection agencies — when a man has children, we always make sure those services are informed and involved.

[Audience member #5]:
How do you deal with men who deny the violence entirely, or who drop out early?

Giulia:
That’s one of our biggest challenges.
Some men come just to “check a box” — to show the court that they’re doing something.
Others leave after a few sessions, saying, “This isn’t for me.”

We’ve learned that we cannot force awareness — but we can plant seeds.
Even if a man only attends a few meetings, something might stay with him: a question, a phrase, a moment of reflection.

We also try to contact him afterwards, to understand the reason for the interruption.
Sometimes he comes back later.

And if he’s in a judicial process, we always inform the referring authority of his withdrawal.
Transparency is essential.

[Moderator]:
We have time for one last question.

[Audience member #6]:
If you could change one thing in Italy to make your work easier or more effective, what would it be?

Gabriele:
Only one? (laughs)
I would say: stable, long-term funding.
Right now, many programs like ours survive through short-term grants or local projects.
We need national investment to ensure continuity, evaluation, and training.

Giulia:
For me, it would be education — starting in schools.
Violence doesn’t begin with a slap; it begins with stereotypes, with boys who learn that emotions are weakness and girls who learn to please others.
We need to start there.

Jacopo:
And for me, it would be collaboration without fear — between institutions, services, and movements.
Sometimes, in Italy, we still work too much in isolation, as if each group had to defend its own territory.
But violence is a collective problem; it requires collective answers.

[Moderator]:
Beautifully said.
Thank you, Giulia, Gabriele, and Jacopo, for sharing your story, your work, and your courage.
It’s inspiring to see such commitment and humanity.

Giulia:
Thank you — really.
We are deeply honored to have been part of this conference.
We’ll go back to Italy full of ideas, gratitude, and renewed energy.

Jacopo:
And with many new friends.
If any of you ever come to Tuscany, you’re warmly invited to visit us — we’ll welcome you with good coffee, good food, and a long conversation about men, change, and responsibility.

Gabriele:
Thank you again to the organizers, and to all of you for listening and for the important work you do every day.

[Applause]

Closing Reflection
The presentation by Associazione LUI concluded with a strong message that resonated throughout the BISC-MI Conference:

Working with men who use violence is not about justifying them — it’s about preventing future violence, protecting women, and transforming culture.
Their approach — combining legal rigor, psychological insight, and community collaboration — offered a valuable European perspective on coordinated responses to domestic violence.

As one participant said at the end:

“Their story reminds us that accountability and compassion can, and must, coexist.”