Pointing The Finger

One of my very first posts on this blog, back in the heady days of 2008, was titled 'Who To Blame and Where To Aim', a question that I think remains very salient for feminists. I feel like recently I've encountered a lot of feminists asserting that any kind of critique of women's behaviour is not feminism, and that what we should be defending is women's right to choose to behave however they want. A reworking of the famous quote (wrongly) attributed to Voltaire, if you like - "I may disagree with every thing you do, but I'll defend to the death your right to do it."

 

A lot of my feminism falls down on this side of the fence, insofar as I've spent a lot of time writing in defence of kinky women and have also tried to examine and challenge my own assumptions about sex work and its implications for feminism by reading blogs by sex workers and listening to what they have to say on social media etc. I'm very aware that there are radfems out there who would condemn me for 'doing feminism wrong' because I enjoy and practise sexual submission with men, and that those same radfems have also done a hell of a lot of hating on trans women and sex workers, and that's not a brand of feminism I want any part of. I do want a feminism that's broad, and open, accepting of difference, and able to reckon that, while we may be all be conditioned by social forces, we are all doing the best we can to live happy and fulfilling lives within that context.

 

But. I do come unstuck when feminism seems diluted to simply mean 'supporting women's right to do/say whatever the fuck they want.' Because by that logic, we'd support pro-life women. We'd support Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachman. We'd support Equalities Minister Maria Miller, who has voted against adoption rights for gay couples and who has spoken in favour of reducing the UK abortion limit. We'd support hateful troll Samantha Brick, who wrote a misogynistic, body-shaming article that I refuse to even read because I've seen the massive trauma it has caused to countless women who have suffered from eating disorders.

 

And presumably, we don't support those women. We support a free society where they can say things that we may disagree with, because it's important to know their views exist so we may address them, challenge them, and maybe even try to educate those promoting them. But I know that I, for one, am not going to unquestioningly endorse those women in the name of feminism. Yet, I feel like certain feminists leap upon any criticism of another woman's behaviour as divisive to the sisterhood, and I'm not going to be railroaded into that. Yesterday I was criticised for using the term 'self-defeating women'. I can see why it might have pissed someone off. It would piss me off to be called that, especially by, say, a radfem describing me as thus because I'm kinky. The person in question suggested that all I meant by this phrase was 'women who disagree with you', and to an extent they were right, but that's not all there is to it. I do deem certain behaviour by women as making life harder for themselves and other women - pro-life women would be a very good example of that. How can you tell me that female senators who sign off bills making abortion more difficult to access for other women are doing anything but attacking their own rights, and the rights of every other woman unfortunate enough to live in that state? If that's not self-defeating, I don't know what is.

 

But OK, that's an extreme example, involving laws which obviously affect people's lives. Other examples are more nebulous. I may feel Page 3 girls make life harder for other women by normalising the trivialisation of women and their bodies, whereas those who defend the glamour models' right to work or who find boobs in newspapers unproblematic would disagree. Radfems may feel I make life harder for other women by 'eroticising violence against women' (I use quotes to show I do not believe this for a second) when I participate in kink, publicly or privately. Obviously I'd feel that radfems are making life much harder for me by imposing huge guilt and shame on a part of my life that brings me pleasure and peace. Abolitionists may feel sex workers make life harder for women by sending out the message that the female body is purchasable, and that  the male right to sex is all-important. Sex workers may feel abolitionists make life harder for them by advocating draconian laws, stereotyping and patronising them, and refusing to listen to their voices or acknowledge their ability to choose/enjoy their work. Ultimately, we can all call each other self-defeating, and I don't suppose we'd ever reach much consensus. Nor, as has been noted with regard to constant Twitter battles over the last few months, will this in-fighting do much to advance the fight against the patriarchy.

 

But I suppose that's the exact crux of the issue. Wherein lies the patriarchy? The person I was debating with yesterday stated that they supported women's right to do whatever they wished, and that their beef was not with female behaviour, but with patriarchy.

 

So are we to believe that patriarchy never influences women?

 

Anyone who's read that Samantha Brick article, or one by Liz Jones, or Melane Philips, or Phyliss Schlafly, might beg to differ. So how do we argue against their poisonous views if we're not going to consider the idea that some of us may make choices that are damaging to women? If 'choice' is our answer to everything, then do we have to conclude that Christina Hoff Sommers' claim that rape reporting in colleges must be hugely exaggerated as a result of a feminist conspiracy is as intelligently arrived at as our own belief that rape is underreported and not taken seriously enough? I mean, she's presumably an intelligent woman with agency of her own which I as a fellow feminist should respect as much as I respect my own. So where do I find the safe space to say that Sommers' views are toxic, damaging, and very likely influenced by a culture which encourages women not to challenge sexism, without being accused of just pissing all over someone I happen to disagree with? If all-encompassing courtesy to women I think are behaving harmfully prevents me from saying Sommers is wrong and harmful in the first place, then how can I hope to get to a point where I can debate with her and try to show her alternative viewpoints? I'm not going to accept that her view has equal weight to mine, just in the name of sisterhood. I accept that her right to hold and state that view is equal to mine, but other than that, I think she's fucking wrong, and I'm going to say so.

 

I can get on board with a feminism that reminds us finger-pointing isn't one way, that we have to look back at ourselves and our own prejudices before we criticise others. But I can't get on board with one that purports to erase and bland out all potential objections to female behaviour in the name of supporting choice. That leaves feminism fragmented to nothing but individualism - something many of us criticised the late, famously anti-feminist, Margaret Thatcher for promoting. That doesn't mean we shouldn't also be criticising male behaviour, damaging patriarchal traditions and structures, and influences that mean women may engage in shitty behaviour as a result of lack of a better alternative. That doesn't mean we shouldn't support the right of women to do things we find distasteful, difficult to understand, or downright bizarre. But if we have no standard against which to measure what moves feminism forward and what holds it back, then feminism means nothing.

And I want my feminism to mean something.

Where Do I Stand? The Feminist Pinball...

I remember 7 years ago, when I was at the tender, angry and politicised age of 21, my uncle labelling me the 'political pinball'. "Some of what you come out with is typical of a left-wing, dope smoking hippy," he said, "And some of your other statements wouldn't sound out of place 'in der bunker'". I didn't mind that too much. While I would call myself primarily left-wing, I do think the ability to consider other viewpoints shows I don't just blindly accept whatever the 'side' I'm supposed to be on espouses. And I'd wager that most of us consider ourselves similarly diverse.

I feel similar in regards to my feminism. There are issues on which I seem to be aligned with 'hardline' feminists often termed 'radfems'. Then there are issues on which my views are much closer to those of 'sex positive' feminists. Fortunately, I do think there are many grounds on which we feminists are broadly united. Access to safe, legal abortion and contraception without apology seems to be an aim we can all agree on. Freedom from violence, vast improvements in the way sexual violence is dealt with, and the end to a culture which apologises and covers up for rape and sexual abuse seems to be another. Then there's closing the gender pay gap, improving the visibility of women in public life, and getting women into fields in which they're vastly underrepresented. We may all have different ideas about how to do it, but I think we can say that feminists generally agree those aims are Worth Pursuing.

Then we get onto sex, and all hell breaks loose. Porn, stripping, prostitution, BDSM...these are the issues that seem to divide feminists most violently, and between which there seems so little middle ground. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't have trouble getting my head around them too. I definitely would be a hypocrite to condemn all pornography, and it's not something I'm interested in doing. I do believe that a critical approach to the fact porn seems to be getting nastier, more inhumane and more widespread is needed. I'm definitely not happy to stand aside and do nothing about a world where 11 year-olds are learning what 'ass-to-mouth' is. But I don't think knee-jerk responses are the answer, and I do think that where feminists advocate censorship, they risk aligning themselves with the anti-woman right wing (as Catharine McKinnon and Andrea Dworkin ended up doing in the 80s). Also, when we start censoring sexual matter, the first to suffer are often the most marginalised groups whose sexuality is deemed 'suspect' (i.e. LGBT people) - after all, why is Diva magazine often on the top shelf in WHSmith when its cover usually depicts a fully clothed woman?

So how can I reconcile the fact that I've viewed pornography that might make the average Sun reader's eyes pop out, and yet still support the No More Page 3 campaign? One answer is that while I don't support censorship, I do support the idea of a time and a place for porn, and I don't think it's unreasonable to state that a newspaper isn't it. I don't think defending the constant use of women's bodies as window dressing to the whole of existence is defending the right of women to be sexual - it's just defending the right of the media to make money, which it will do one way or the other. As I wrote back in 2008, "how would men feel if every time they went to fill up the car, they were confronted with images of muscular, sleek, chiselled men with full heads of hair, stunning skin, powerful bodies as if carved from oak, and of course, ridiculously huge, erect penises peeking out from under the tiny loincloth which is of course, all they are wearing? Pretty shit, I think we can unanimously agree. Yet women are expected to titter, roll their eyes and pretend they don't feel offended, attacked and obnoxiously shown up by the colonising of the female body to sell items that are going to roll off the shelves regardless of whether you use a 17 year old girl or a 70 year old piece of cheese to advertise them."

I'm also tired of being told that the NMP3 campaign is misguided or a waste of feminism's energy. As I wrote just a few weeks ago, "as for the ‘Oh, lads’ mags/women’s magazines/The Daily Mail/Angler’s Weekly are just as bad, why aren’t you campaigning against THEM too?’ argument, this is a classic attempt to try to heap collective responsibility for changing all of society's sexist failings onto feminists’ heads, whilst abrogating everyone else of any responsibility to improve their behaviour. But getting rid of Page 3 would send out a huge message. It would be a game-changer, an altering of the media landscape, the destruction of a sexist institution in place since the 70s. No, it would not immediately destroy all other media sexism. But it might just make other producers of sexist media content stop and wonder how much longer they can get away with objectifying women when a large swathe of the British public has now proudly declared ‘I’m not buying that shit any more’." 

Nicola Carty wrote an interesting piece opposing the No More Page 3 campaign and although I still mostly disagree with her reasons for being against it, I can see her point of view when she says "Working for the only the rights of women who choose not to be especially revealing about their bodies  doesn’t sound like feminism to me... It sounds like women, once again, are being told that they need to behave in a certain way if they want to be treated with respect." It's a provoking thought to this particular feminist, who has read on radfem blogs that my sexual preferences make me a 'dupe of the patriarchy', that by liking BDSM I'm "reinforcing the legitimacy of power imbalances outside the bedroom” and hence damaging the feminist cause. My instinct would be to defend my actions because they are freely chosen, personal and pleasurable - but then Page 3 models would presumably say the same. I might think my choices are 'superior' because I'm not paid for my sexual actions, but feminist sex workers would strongly disagree. I don't agree that there's one 'right way' to have sex whereby monogamous, hetero 'loving' sex is seen as superior to all other kinds, and I don't think it's helpful for feminism to advance that ideology, or confuse it with the NMP3 campaign. Regardless, I have definite ideological problems with how stripping, lap dancing and prostitution are accepted as 'inevitable' responses to 'uncontrollable' male sexuality. The assumption of male entitlement to the female body is what, as a feminist, I find most galling about these industries. Unfortunately that kinda leaves me stuck between a sex positive rock and a hardline feminist hard place.

I do consider myself able to move beyond the simplistic notion that all sex workers are exploited and miserable, because that's as patronising as assuming that I only participate in BDSM because evil men 'force' me to. However, when it comes to the crunch I remain deeply uncomfortable with the notion that a man can buy entry to a woman's vagina, anus or mouth, and find it difficult to defend sex work beyond believing that it should at least be made safer for women. Perhaps jealousy or insecurity is at the root of this - are women worried that if all men can buy sex, they will never have to bother being nice to a woman again, and our society will just descend into the misogynistic state that feminists are trying to hold back the tide against? And is this a valid concern, or simply an excuse for, as one sex worker put it, 'whorephobia'?

I want to admit to my own lack of knowledge and experience in the areas and do something about it. I have never met any sex workers, and I think that'd be a start - because what experience do most of us on this issue have beyond having read the writing of Dr Brooke Magnanti or terrible stories of trafficking and exploitation? So, this is something I'm planning to research more deeply by talking to feminists on all sides of the debate, and will hopefully be back with a piece looking at whether it's possibly to move beyond the divisive, two-sided feminist debate on prostitution. 

In the meantime I'll continue skating down the middle, somewhere between the radfems and the sex pozzies, and accept that every feminist is going to be as unique as a snowflake, but live in hope that one day we might come together to form a patriarchy-smashing snowball.