Two decades ago, back when satirical news site the Onion was still relevant, it produced the painfully accurate article “Women Now Empowered By Everything A Woman Does”. It captured a moment during which the mainstream representation of feminism could not have been more vacuous. “Clothes-shopping,” reported the piece:

Once considered a mundane act with few sociopolitical implications, is now a bold feminist statement […] Whereas early feminists campaigned tirelessly for improved health care and safe, legal access to abortion, often against a backdrop of public indifference or hostility, today’s feminist asserts control over her biological destiny by wearing a baby-doll T-shirt with the word ‘Hoochie’ spelled in glitter. 

As one who was there at the time, I can confirm this was absolutely true (or rather, feminists of the early type still existed and were working away, but literally anyone — including me, in my Wonderbra and leopard-print Spice Girls t-shirt — was permitted to claim the title of feminist, too). 

I was recently reminded of this by politician turned podcaster Alastair Campbell’s response to women questioning his attitude towards contemporary feminist politics. Following a session during which he and Rory Stewart wondered what could be making JK Rowling so angry about trans activism (gosh, who can say?), several women invited him to justify his lack of curiosity regarding what feminists actually think. Campbell’s response was to tell them they did not “speak for all women or all feminists any more than anyone else does”. In other words, he’d already spoken to women calling themselves feminists — including his own partner and daughter! — who were perfectly happy to endorse his ignorance. No need for any further investigation. All women think all sorts of things! Wouldn’t it be anti-feminist to start claiming any feminist thought is less feminist than another? Might as well just go with the feminist thoughts that appeal to you the most. 

That no woman speaks for all women is hardly a novel observation. Indeed, it would be difficult to imagine a world in which this were possible, given there are billions of us. One of the most significant challenges feminism faces as a movement — both globally, and on the smallest, most interpersonal level — comes from the fact that women’s views diverge significantly due to age, experience, location and the way in which our personal lives are intertwined with those of men of our own milieu.  As Gerda Lerner wrote, “class and racial privileges serve to undercut the ability of women to see themselves as part of a coherent group, which, in fact, they are not, since women uniquely of all oppressed groups occur in all strata of society”:

The formation of a group consciousness of women must proceed along different lines. That is the reason why theoretical formulations, which have been appropriate to other oppressed groups, are so inadequate in explaining and conceptualizing the subordination of women.

Many of us have deep disagreements not just with women of other backgrounds, but with our own female relatives and friends. My own mother believed very much in the idea of males as heads of the household, whereas I do not. It is laughable for men such as Campbell to breeze in and suggest — as if we haven’t already noticed — that when feminists claim to advocate for women’s rights, we literally believe all women, or even all feminists, think the same way we do. We argue; we make judgements; sometimes we change our minds. The situation of women as a class is too important for us to retreat into the kind of relativism that insists you can’t really say one thing is better than another (there are women who support FGM, or advocate for their daughters being married off at 12, or believe that the tradwife movement is progressive). Nobody likes to feel they are telling other women they are wrong about women’s rights — but some are. 

Treating “you don’t speak for all women” as a kind of gotcha is emblematic of the way in which feminism — as a movement informed by the arguments and analyses of countless female activists, philosophers, economists, carers, criminologists, scientists etc. — is trivialised and discounted by a certain type of man as soon as it displeases him. It is as meaningful as telling a male politician that he does not speak for all politicians — no need to engage with the actual argument, just use the fact that he does not (and cannot ever) gain full consensus. Alas, we are used to the strategic moves that are deployed in an attempt to disqualify feminists — and only feminists — from drawing firm political conclusions. Tell them that when they’re judging an abusive practice, they’re actually judging the women being subjected to it (and denying them agency)! Tell them that feminism is about choice, so anything a woman does is feminist! Tell them that saying other women aren’t really feminists is “gatekeeping feminism” — and isn’t it elitist to do that? In this way, feminism is treated, not as a serious political movement, but as exactly what the Onion article claimed it to be: just women, doing stuff. 

This is particularly dangerous at a time when debates are raging over the inclusion of male people in female-only spaces. To some, the fact that not all women object to this has become “proof” that those who object do not “speak for women”. To claim this is to misunderstand what it means to defend a right which even the majority of women might never wish to use. No woman literally speaks for all women, but by the same token, a group of women (even a large one) cannot collectively consent to a loss of privacy that would apply to all. The plainly obvious fact that all women have different priorities is being misused to undermine basic principles that might matter less to some and more to others. Applied more broadly, this is an assault on the very idea of female consent (she didn’t mind, so why should you?). 

Given the number of times I have changed my mind about feminist positions, I am sure I am wrong about some things right now. Which ones, I obviously don’t know (if I did, I wouldn’t still be thinking them). Even so, this is no excuse for the avoidance of all judgement. To speak on behalf of women  — to say what you believe is best for women — is not to speak for or over them. It is to be confident that your own beliefs can be tested. “I’m a woman, too” is not enough to justify positions which will have an impact on the lives of other women, even if the latter are a tiny minority. Nor is “my female friends/wife/daughter thinks this”. Feminism is not pretend politics. Let’s give it the respect it deserves.