I seem to have acquired a collection of feminist books. From Mary Wollstonecraft to Simone de Beauvoir, from Maya Angelou to Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche; from Mary Beard to the wonderful Caitlin Moran; from Naomi Wolf to Kat Banyard. And I realised that all these fabulous ground-breaking feminist women were in fact constantly breaking the same ground. Over and over again. I’ve often suspected that these erudite women are in fact writing chic-lit. By women, for women. We’re talking to ourselves. I know that’ll feel familiar to many women: that feeling that no-one is listening to a word we’re saying. We’ve been in our own echo-chamber for centuries! Something else happened which made me feel I was onto something. My brother, (not the judge, I have another one) mentioned having glanced at my fabulous blog but not subscribing because, he said, he was not my target audience. In his mind, I am writing about women’s issues, and he is not a woman. He firmly believes in equality between the sexes, obviously. He’s a good feminist. It’s just that he believes that the fight for equality has been fought and won, and he doesn’t really understand why I’m still droning on about it. Here’s the thing, I made the same kind of mistake some years ago, when a mixed race young man tried to tell me that he often encountered racism. I was totally taken aback. I literally couldn’t believe it! How blind was I? This was before we were even talking about the unconscious bias and constant micro-aggressions. Before I learned that BAME women are much more likely to die in childbirth, yes, even here, even now (and no, it isn’t because of poverty, still less because of underlying weakness, it’s because we don’t listen when they tell us there’s a problem). I’d argue that my blindness was pure wishful thinking. I didn’t want it to be true. When Obama got elected President of the USA, I didn’t realise how big a deal it was (I thought he was clearly the better candidate and I didn’t think it mattered one iota that he was black) because that’s how blind I was. But the BAME midwives who were with me on that night shift, they knew. They knew how much he must have overcome to get there. I’ve since read his book, and Michelle’s too, and boy did they overcome. I hadn’t even considered that. I saw meritocracy at work, which is the dream, but not the reality. It’s the exception, not the rule. Unfortunately I now know better: there was was a problem and there still is. Of course, among BAME people, this was never news. And looking back, the clues where all there, in plain sight. In Feb 2014 Reni Eddo-Lodge wrote a post about why she wouldn’t be talking to white people about race because it was pointless, we didn’t listen. We simply, like I did, denied the problem. Needless to say I didn’t see that blog because, let’s face it, my echo-chamber and hers were worlds apart. I have since read her eye-opening book which she published in 2018 when her world and mine were finally colliding. Even though in theory we’d been inhabiting the same world for decades. Even though I’d always seen myself as an ally. Epic fail. I’m working on that.

So back to my lovely brother. Who still sees meritocracy in the world as a thing. And of course he’s not wrong, thank heavens, not completely. Progress has been made in the world both in racism (not nearly enough) and in Feminism. Though probably not so much in the intersectionality between the two. The opportunities for women are there, he’ll argue, we just have to grab them with both hands. If we choose to look after the babies, that’s because we can make that choice. But, like so many other fathers, it never once occurred to him to make that choice. 

It never even occurred to him to make it because maternity leave is for mothers, because it is pretty much unpaid and because it is carreer destroying. It ought to be called parental leave and it should be shared equally between the parents, and one day it will be. But until then, men get 2 weeks unpaid (I checked, it’s £172.48 per week, so it’s peanuts). It’s what women get after the first 6 weeks. Peanuts. Women think peanuts plus the prospect of their job being held for them is pretty awesome. Yet somehow men have all subconsciously figured out that raising the kids is no picnic and that doing it for peanuts is beyond crazy. But society doesn’t expect them to. Worse, society kinda looks askew at a stay-at-home dads (is his wife dead? Institutionalised? Or, shock horror, does she earn more than him?). Which is a crying shame because so many men would be amazing carers, given half a chance, and a bit more of a cash incentive. But until that happens, they have to believe that women are actively choosing the stay-at-home role, and it helps a great deal that a lot of women do choose this. Because we ARE lucky to be able to. We know this and we are super grateful. We know that not so long ago, you quit work to look after hubby the moment you said ‘I do.’ We know that our right to contraception, our right to safe, legal abortion, our right to education and work, all this can be taken away as quickly as it was granted to us. We also know that men suffer the consequences of having to bear the brunt of the family income. The wonderful Caitlin Moran even went as far as to write a book called ‘What about Men’ in which she delves deeply into the problems caused by this division of labour. It’s not all roses for the guys, some of whom end up seeing women as the enemy. Precisely because she gets to stay at home and dares to complain about this while he’s out breaking his back to support her cappuccino habit. She’s been educated to join the workforce as his equal, and is frustrated at how difficult it is to rejoin it after having his children. He’s frustrated because he truly (wants to) believes she should be happy to be looked after, and why would she want to work if he can make it so she doesn’t have to. He conveniently forgets that childcare is work that he wouldn’t undertake for free. But a mother isn’t bound by the laws of labour. Only the labour of love! If you listen to Andrew Tate (and I have), you will quickly hear him tying himself up in knots trying to justify his idea of domestic bliss. I’m not going to lie, if I were a bloke, I’d really really want to believe him. Sounds like heaven: a beautiful woman greeting you at your hearth every evening, fresh from having her nails/hair/botox/plastic surgery done, kids looking neat and tidy, ready for a goodnight kiss and bed, dinner on the table and sex on demand because she’s not at all tired (but full of gratitude) from her non-work day. Just like the good old days. Can you imagine being a man whose father had all that? And now, despite all they’ve seemingly given up, they hear women still whinging on about how unequal society still is. It must be infuriating! I’d be gutted too! I’d be sorely tempted to deny the problem and call out the moaners as ungrateful, unnatural women who probably shouldn’t have had kids if they were crazy enough to expect even more parity (I know, you either have parity or you don’t) when the joys of motherhood should have been rewarding enough. I certainly wouldn’t go looking for feminist literature/blogs written by super fortunate (middle class, educated, articulate,white, straight) women (like yours truly) who clearly have too much time on their hands. After all, those women have the least to complain about. I know that. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It isn’t a meritocracy if some people run the race hobbled by poverty, race, sexuality, disability, having a uterus, or any combination of those factors. But, since it always pays to really listen to what the other side thinks, I bought the book by Jordan Peterson (this was before he went completely off the rails but after he was considered problematic). I really wasn’t offended but I didn’t get to the end (sorry Jordan, you’re a philosopher, I respect that but I couldn’t finish Sophie’s World and that’s all the philosophy I’ve ever read!) . Maybe I missed something! Even before I listened to Andrew Tate, I knew the depressing stats about male suicide, which definitely worries me because I’m the mother of boys. And I can totally get on board with what they both say about improving men’s self worth through discipline and hard work. There’s nothing wrong with those rules. Like Peterson (before he too totally derailed into misogynistic paranoia), Tate was promoting discipline and self love. And what self respecting person would take on the role of a skivvy? But someone has to, right? WRONG! The thing is, the men are right to refuse to work for peanuts, but until women figure this out and realise that we shouldn’t either, nothing will change. Everyone including the men will remain unhappy and unfulfilled. I thought Caitlin Moran was pretty brave to go so much further than I ever did to understand the male perspective, and if I’m really honest, I nearly didn’t read her book. Of course, she was right. She doesn’t just dismiss the men as spoiled entitled misogynists, she listens to and validates their complaints and she urges society to take heed. But since Caitlin is a pesky feminist, her target audience, the men, won’t be reading it. They should.