Intro To F*minism
When given a range of options, 93 percent of brits do not identify as feminist.
54 percent of millennial british women do not identify as feminist.
I was 15 and apparently barely out of my nappies when a smug, comforting thought wrapped itself around me like a blanket made of money. I don’t like feminism I thought, practically erect at my own cleverness. I support equalism. A smirk was oozing across my face, dripping onto the pavement.
I wasn’t alone. Countless are the people who today still presume that feminism could only ever be ‘pro-women’, rather than ‘pro-equality from the female perspective’. After all, a self-described ‘feminist’ would surely not stop once objective equality is achieved, but demand more and more, determined to leave men behind, firmly squished under a well-manicured thumb of oppression.
From the lofty height of the hot air balloon I’d fashioned from my inflated skull, it apparently did not occur to me that when women won their right to vote, they did not, in fact, go on to request that men’s vote be revoked. Nor did it enter my head that when equal pay was signed into law, there was not a subsequent wave of women demanding to be paid more than men.
Each battle for progressives has been for fairness, not vengeance. Each victory has been a signal to move on to the next battle, not to hack down the poor guy waving the white flag. Simply put, feminists have never been bad winners.
65% of Brits admit men are favoured by bosses over equally-skilled women.
The same survey found 67% of Brits think feminism has either gone too far (40%) or gone as far it should go (27%).
There is a paradox where people willingly recognise (some) women’s issues, but simultaneously feel that feminism is just asking for too much.
I find that most of the people that hold these apparently contradictory views do so because they feel that overall those issues simply can’t be helped, and that feminists are therefore asking for perfection, asking for too much. I’ve had several conversations with a few friends who hold the same vaguely anti-feminist views.
Their objection is not to the existence of the problems, but their worthiness of our attention. They argue that men face problems too, which feminist issues should not drown out. When I talk to them, I ask if they believe that these things we hear about are done to women by some number of assholes. We quickly agree that they do - the objection is that it isn’t that common, certainly not common enough to provoke such inflammatory protests and vitriol. But in simply being aware that your disagreement is one of scale, not existence, you bring yourselves onto the same page - a space in which you can have a constructive discussion.
Noone denies the existence of assholes - and so if you’re having a hard time seeing eye to eye with feminism, this is a helpful frame in which to see the two main things that feminists are telling you. The first is this: Assholes are just more common than you think. The second: Assholes more often target women with their shit behaviour than they do men.
If you can get on board with these two notions - or even just accept that they could plausibly be true - welcome to feminism! That’s… all there is to it. You can relax. Your “men should die tbh lol” t-shirt is (not) in the post.
The to-do list as a feminist is not particularly daunting. I’ve found the main one is to call out the kind of behaviours assholes like to engage in. The phrase “Hey man, don’t do that.” has been surprisingly useful for me, while for the kind of offenses shielded by paper-thin veneers of irony, a firm “Ok, alright, enough of that” often suffices.
If you're a guy and you want to have your eyes opened, ask the women in your life about the last time they were on the receiving end of sexism. When, as an adult, I finally did this for the first time, I was shocked. The three women I was closest to all had stories I was astonished not to have heard before. One talked about being harassed ‘more times than she could count, including by people she’d trusted’, another talked about being sexually assaulted through her skirt by a passing stranger in broad daylight, and the other – whom I vividly remember looking at me with pity while she told the story – of when she’d been followed home at night by someone, and had felt compelled to slip her keys between her knuckles and run.
I simply assumed that these close friends would tell me if they were sickeningly groped on their holiday, or had been hit on and followed around a nightclub with a scary insistence.
The stories left me with two separate, but equally important questions. 1 – Why on earth hadn’t I asked before? 2 – Why did they need to be asked?
Let’s start with the second question. Although the #MeToo movement has moved the needle in a real and significant way, women still in general have difficulty speaking out about their stories. The exceptions prove the point: in certain spaces, with people they trust, women have no problem sharing their experiences. It's that those spaces are narrow, and those people are broadly female.
Some of my friends would admit to having made a multitude of jokes and comments about sexual assault in the recent past, but would solemnly vow to not actually be sexist. I know of one person who came out to one of his flatmates long before the others, for no reason other than that those other flatmates had often used ‘gay’ as an insult. You can either take something seriously, or see it as an opportunity for cheap jokes.
You cannot do both.
In the US, men think the number of women who have experienced harassment is 44%.
The actual figure is 81%
So the answer to the first question, of why I hadn’t asked? Like everyone else, I was merrily ignorant to the rampant extent of the problem.
But perhaps more shockingy, women estimate the rate to be just 59%. This pattern of both men and women severely underestimating rates of sexual harassment is not just limited to the US, but is perfectly consistent across Europe too. In the UK for instance, men and women estimate the percentage to be 46 and 55 respectively: it’s 68. In France, they think it’s 41 and 47: it’s 75. In the Netherlands, 38 and 39: it’s 73. Denmark? 31 and 42. It’s actually 80%.
If you want hard evidence of the mystical patriarchy affecting day to day life, this is it: men are so good at discouraging women to speak out, that even victims think they’re the exception, not the rule.
The number of offending men is up for debate, but even if the number was tiny, that would not constitute an excuse for shoulder shrugging.
In my conversations with non-feminist men, they’ve often expressed something that is not ‘boys will be boys’, but is closer to ‘assholes will be assholes’ - as if there is something inevitable about people being shitty, and that fighting it is a waste of everyone's energy.
Men do not, then, resent the goals of the feminist movement. They resent feminist nagging, the insistence on solving a problem they still do not know the extent of - not unlike being nagged by your parents to separate laundry colours and lights, and only seeing why years later when the evidence is laid out in front of you.
When it comes down to it, all anyone can do is:
Not be an asshole
Call out or stand up to assholes when they’re being assholes
That’s it. That’s all you can do
Please do note this is not a feminist mantra, these are just basic rules for… life. But if you can do those two things, you can (and should!) call yourself a feminist. And one of the most fundamental and important tenets of feminism is that these two rules are the bare minimum - anyone with even vague aspirations to be a decent person should be doing these things anyway. The important point is to extend that bare minimum in all directions.
In one study, 22% of people said ‘strength’ is the first word they associate with feminism.
25% of people said ‘bitchy’.
A simple but important thing to note is that the baggage we’ve attached to the word ‘feminist’ is not real. The disconnect between the public perception and reality of feminism is closing, but slowly. Time and time again, the definition of a feminist is laid out: “Someone who believes in equality between the sexes.”
This definition is not a deliberate attempt to downplay the controversial nature of being a feminist - it’s public perception that is mistaken. There is no checklist detailing every liberal stance you need to be willing to fight and die for to deserve the title of ‘feminist’. The most empowering realisation is the one that you can be a feminist and still disagree with other feminists.
A disregard for safe spaces does not disqualify your feminism. Believing some people really do need to toughen up does not disqualify your feminism. Cringing at videos of insane women saying insane things at men does not disqualify your feminism.
Feminism is not exclusive, and is not a tool used as a fun toy to hit men in the back of the head with when women get bored. In the marathon fight for social justice and equality, noone reaches the finish line feeling anything other than drained and emotionally exhausted.
If you care about issues like sexual assault and harassment, but don’t agree with how certain branches of feminism are dealing with things, become the kind of feminist you want to see more of. Jump on board - there’s shitloads of room.
