lessons from GLORIA, the REVOLUTIONARY
Twenty years ago, I enrolled in a course that changed my life forever.
“Introduction to Women’s & Gender Studies” was unlike any course I had ever taken. For the first time, I felt intellectually on fire.
I was excited to dive into course readings and eager to rewatch documentary films from class. Our class conversations blew my mind, and I wished they could be twice as long. Just two weeks into the semester, I declared myself a Women’s & Gender Studies major.
This class introduced me to Gloria Steinem.
“IF MEN COULD MENSTRUATE”
The Steinem article we read in this class was her 1978 satirical essay from Ms. Magazine, entitled “If Men Could Menstruate.” This piece examined how dominant cultural norms are set by those in power—and considered what the world might look like, and how attitudes and ideas around menstruation might shift, if men were the ones who menstruated.
Steinem imagined that “menstruation” would be thought of as the most masculine of acts—and one of the principal justifications for why only men could hold political office, or serve in the military. The macho slogan she imagined would look something like: “You have to give blood to take blood.”
She also imagined commercials featuring “John Wayne Tampons” and “Joe Namath Jock Shields.” In a contemporary context, I imagine commercials for “Diesel XXL Tampons” with Shaquille O’Neal as the spokesperson, or maybe “Protein Pads” marketed by The Rock, noting that it’s the only pad that helps him reach peak performance both at work and in the gym. Maybe they’d be infused with a little protein or creatine.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR ME?
When our class discussed texts like Steinem's, we’d broadly consider what it means to live in a world defined by patriarchal norms. The message seemed clear to me: women’s lives were constricted in a world defined by male standards. But my professor challenged us to dig even deeper: “What do these ideas mean for YOU?”
When asked a question like this, I would often say something like: “These texts help me understand some of the challenges facing women in my life, and they help me to become more empathetic.”
Hell yeah. I nailed it.
But I could tell that my professor wasn’t 100% satisfied with my answer. Not because it was “wrong,” but because I hadn’t actually answered her question. Despite my enthusiasm and eagerness to be in this class, I was missing the point. She had asked me: “What do these ideas mean for YOU?” not “What do these ideas mean for women in your life?”
I felt trapped by this question. I was the only guy taking this women’s and gender studies class, and I thought the whole point was to focus on women’s lives, not men’s. We had learned about the “androcentric” history of the educational system, and so if I started focusing on my own life or asking “What about men?” wouldn’t that undermine the entire point of having a class about women?
While this term wasn’t yet en vogue, in retrospect my professor’s question felt akin a guy being asked to explain what “mansplaining” is. Ummm, is this a trick question? My professor was trying to get me to understand that patriarchy has negative implications for men, too—which was also the work that Gloria Steinem was invested in.
WOMEN & WORK
The topic of women and work was one of the central debates shaping the feminist movement in the 1960s and 70s. Feminist icons like Gloria Steinem wanted to create a world where women could be anything they wanted and have radically more opportunities in life. But their goal was not to simply give women expanded professional opportunities outside of the home—Steinem wanted women to have access to the economic capital that would allow them to be free to pursue their dreams—or simply survive.
The debates around women and work occurred alongside other conversations about domestic violence—something that was not new, but had previously never had a name. Feminists like Steinem recognized the interconnectedness of women, work, and domestic violence. If a woman wanted to flee an abusive relationship, they often had no financial means to actually do so. Given this, Steinem knew that expanding opportunities for women meant that women would not only live freer lives; it meant that many women would continue to live.
In this sense, the ability to work was tied to the ability to live.
To achieve this, Steinem knew that there had to be a cultural revolution about how we think about work. In her 1983 book Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions, Steinem’s chapter “The Importance of Work” examined the cultural backlash to the feminist movement, specifically the flood of women into the paid-labor force. She highlighted the barrage of news stories covering women’s work, including a Wall Street Journal article that regarded it as “the greatest change in American life since the Industrial Revolution.”
These publications inspired a barrage of questions about “why” women would want to enter the workforce. Additionally, women with children who were eager to build their careers would often be bombarded with questions about why they would prefer working as opposed to staying at home with their children. These types of questions suggested that the wages women earned at work were not necessary for their families’ survival. Did she work to have extra spending money? Was it greed? Did these women want to be like men? Or…did they want to shirk their roles as mothers?
But much like my professor, Steinem knew that these sorts of questions were never directed to men. She noted:
“It’s a question rarely directed at male workers whose basic motivations of survival and personal satisfaction are taken for granted. Indeed, men are regarded as ‘odd’ and therefore subjects for sociological study and journalistic reports only when they don’t have work—even if they are rich and don’t need jobs, or are poor and can’t find them.”
Steinem’s point here was not just that men got the benefit of not being asked relentlessly why they choose to work outside of the home—she was trying to get us to consider what we actually believe about work and what it means to be a man.
MEN, MASCULINITY, & WORK
What are the consequences of never thinking about men, masculinity, and work?
Fifty years ago, the idea of an increase in women entering the paid workforce was seen as revolutionary because it expanded our imagination of what women could be. Women could be doctors, scientists, bankers, authors—seemingly anything. But the backlash was fueled by what this implied for men. If men’s lives were defined by their ability to work hard and make money—and women could do it too—then how do we define what it means to be a man?
I want to be clear: working hard and making money is not a bad thing.
I love my work, and I certainly like making money—but defining men strictly by their work and ability to make money is dangerous, particularly in a moment of economic crisis.
Have you noticed the explosion of discourse about the status of men in society? The “manosphere”—which is a shorthand term for the proliferation of podcasts, websites, blogs, and online forums all aimed at promoting “traditional” masculinity, misogyny, and rejecting feminism—seems to suggest that men are in crisis, and I agree.
While I agree with the premise that many men are struggling and in crisis, it’s the remedy or solution that many of these podcasts and websites promote that I wholly reject. These voices and influencers encourage men to double down on the same ideology that has left so many of them in crisis in the first place: they encourage men to work even harder, and grind and grind and grind.
In the eyes of so many leadership influencers, the mark of living a good life is not doing meaningful work—it’s about making millions of dollars. Once again, we define men by working hard and making money.
In a moment of economic crisis (much like the one we are in right now), this is dangerous. Not only are men experiencing economic uncertainty, but this “economic crisis” is also experienced as a “gender crisis.” In other words, when men are defined by their ability to perform labor and make money—and they lose their jobs—they lose their identities, too.
THE REAL REVOLUTION:
Steinem was trying to expose us to the reality that we had developed a dangerously limited imagination of what men can be if we define them solely by their ability to perform work and make money. As an inverse of the question that many women got in the 1960s and 70s, Steinem’s work encourages us to ask: why don’t men want to be home with their kids?
In the previous installment of this series, I shared that I had a friend tell me that he felt like he was “working himself to death.” In a world that largely defines men by their incessant work, this should come as no surprise. He’s following a script that’s been thrust on him since birth, and reinforced just about everywhere you look.
Here’s the extra scary part: despite being in women’s and gender studies spaces for the past two decades, I still fall into this trap all the time. I still have moments where I assume that my worth is tied to my hard work and ability to make money—and, as I regularly share at Solidago Institute programs, I’m continually battling workaholic tendencies.
But some things have started to shift for me. Since creating the Solidago Institute, I’ve made a commitment to build my schedule around the adventures and activities I want to do with my kids, and make my work fit around them—not the other way around. It’s a luxury of mine, but it’s grounded in an attempt to define my life beyond the labor that I perform.
GLORIA’S LEGACY & REIMAGINING LEADERSHIP
In the wake of Gloria Steinem’s passing, it’s worth considering her legacy and where we might still need some revolution. Today, there is yet another backlash to the idea of women working outside the home, with “tradwives” who believe that women should return to the home and live a life defined by domestic labor.
This movement, which was originally the ideological production of men (not women) on 4chan, has framed the conversation as if women’s gains in the workplace have gone too far. It leaves women in a “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” relationship to work outside the home. Additionally, the “Tradwife” worldview is based on a complete misunderstanding (or rather, misrepresentation) of the aims of the feminist movement.
Gloria Steinem noted that the goal of the feminist movement was not just about expanding opportunities for women outside of the home. She noted: “the real work revolution won’t come until all productive work is rewarded—including child rearing and other jobs done in the home—and men are integrated into so-called women’s work as well as vice versa.” This idea, that women (and men) could have their domestic and child-rearing work rewarded, has gone wholly unrealized.
While women have more professional opportunities than they did in the 1960s and 70s, only 11% of Fortune 500 companies are run by women, and most C-suites and boardrooms are still disproportionately male. The reality is, our imagination and definition of leadership is still shaped almost exclusively by standards established by men. Despite the cultural revolution brought about by the feminist movement, leadership and work (whether it’s performed by men or women) are still largely defined by doing more, producing more, making more.
More, more, more. Consequences be damned.
And this isn’t just true in the “manosphere.” I’ve been in many spaces focused on “Women’s Leadership” that echo many of these same ideas—and unsurprisingly, they rarely use the language of “feminism” anywhere in their work.
Women are told that they can achieve everything—but the path towards that achievement is almost always focused on mirroring the leadership styles of men. Women are encouraged to embrace their femininity, but not be afraid to “think like a man.” In practice, this #GirlBoss energy encourages women to work more, grind more, and to “have the balls” to demand more. Sound familiar?
As Gloria Steinem taught me twenty years ago: “The characteristics of the powerful, whatever they may be, are thought to be better than the characteristics of the powerless—and logic has nothing to do with it.”
In our workplaces, I know too many people who are simply burnt out. Are we open to reimagining our idea of leadership and work? Might we take any notes from Gloria? Or maybe we just keep doing what we’ve always done, and hope that things just slow down…
A Final Note on Gloria
It’s been deeply meaningful for me to be able to use this “Labor Day Series” to share the impact that Dolly Parton, Wendell Berry, and Gloria Steinem have had on my thinking. I only had the honor of meeting one of these heroes in person, and that was Gloria Steinem.
In 2016, I had the amazing privilege of picking up Gloria Steinem at the airport in Lexington, Kentucky, and driving her about 45 minutes south to Berea College. It was surreal to be talking with a hero of mine. Talking with her felt familiar, because I felt like I had spent so much time with her before (through her writing), but this time she was sitting in my car.
I got her checked in at the Boone Tavern, a historic hotel in Berea, Kentucky, and the concierge handed me her keys with a little paper tag on them that read “Stein man.” I kept that little piece of paper—with its wonderfully fitting typo—to remember meeting a hero.
P.S. If you’re interested in conversations that can expand our imagination of leadership and want to learn more about Solidago Institute programs, drop us a note at contact@solidagoinstitute.org.
