Patriarchal masculinity teaches men that their sense of self-identity, their reason for being, resides in their capacity to dominate others. To change this, males must critique and challenge male domination of the planet, of less powerful men, of women and children. But they must also have a clear vision of what feminist masculinity looks like. How can you become what you cannot imagine? And that vision has yet to be made fully clear by feminist thinkers male or female. (hooks 2014, 70)
What does it mean to “be” feminist? Debate on this question is, and arguably always will be, heavily contested. The inclusion of men in feminism is perhaps the ultimate example of this debate. Within contemporary feminist thought, perspectives on men being feminists range from those who are, “viscerally opposed to the whole idea” (Braidotti, Reference Braidotti2011) to those who argue that engaging with men more systematically is, “the most consequential move feminists can make” (Hebert, Reference Hebert2007). While some feminist political scholars have expanded their feminist approaches to include analyses of men as gendered (see, for example, Starblanket, Reference Starblanket, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020; Zalewski Reference Zalewski, Zalewski and Parpart2019; Enloe, Reference Enloe2017; MacDonald, Reference MacDonald2017; Murray, Reference Murray2015; Carver, Reference Carver2008; Hebert, Reference Hebert2007; Gidengil, Reference Gidengil2007; Ashe, Reference Ashe2007; Lovenduski, Reference Lovenduski1998), resistance to this expansion remains within some feminist scholarship, and men who identify as feminist are frequently regarded with suspicion and/or distrust within feminist popular culture (Bindel, Reference Bindel2021; Harmange, Reference Harmange2020; Zalewski, Reference Zalewski, Zalewski and Parpart2019; Braidotti, Reference Braidotti2011; White, Reference White2008; Ashe, Reference Ashe2007; Modleski, 1991). This resistance is often coupled with trans-exclusionary “women only” approaches to feminism and gender politics. As Hines (Reference Hines2019) argues, “despite links being forged between many sections of feminist and trans communities, there is a strong branch of anti-transgender sentiment running throughout contemporary feminist discourse” (154). Stock (Reference Stock2022), for example, claims, “Feminism is only for women and girls, in the sense that women and girls should be its exclusive political project” (260). She further argues, “Gay and bisexual people should be the exclusive political project of gay activism, with separate campaigns for lesbians and gay men where their interests differ. Trans people should be the exclusive political project of separate trans activism” (261). This exclusionary and essentialist position is, however, increasingly rejected. As Zalewski (Reference Zalewski, Zalewski and Parpart2019) argues, “surely, the analysis of gender demands that attention be paid to men and masculinity as well as to women and femininity” (4). Further, as Weerawardhana (Reference Weerawardhana, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020) argues, “If feminist priorities in world politics are to be limited to a cisnormative approach centering exclusively on cisgender women, these priorities inevitably perpetuate the very exclusionary practices they purport to eradicate” (306).
Indeed, the debate on who is, or is not, able to identify as feminist and who should, or should not, participate in feminist political projects continues. At the same time, there is, as always, a need for feminist action and praxis. The politics of feminist theory and activism invoke longstanding tensions both within, and between, the academy and social movements, and these tensions are not likely to be resolved anytime soon. How then to even begin querying the role of men in feminism? The question itself is so blatantly and, perhaps unforgivably, fraught. And, yet, I argue, it remains a question that deserves careful consideration, especially in our current political climate of reactionary masculinism and renewed feminist resistance (Grant and MacDonald, Reference Grant, MacDonald, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020). As the opening quotation from bell hooks illustrates, the distribution of power is profoundly gendered and inherently relational. Feminist efforts to change deeply entrenched gendered power structures must therefore engage fully with the many ways all conceptions and practices of gender work in relation, and often in contention, to maintain and/or challenge current power structures.
With this task in mind, this article bridges feminist political theory and political practice by analyzing key aspects of feminist discourse and the political terrain in Canadian politics through illustrative examples including Trudeau's feminist government. I first introduce my understanding of “feministing” as a concept of relational solidarity based on processes of “becoming” rather than being. I then examine debates on the relationship between men/masculinities and feminism(s), to highlight and address important conceptual concerns, including allyship and elite capture. In the final sections, I draw upon feminist scholarship on intersectionality and relational autonomy to envision feminist coalition-building based on uncovering various imperfect, temporal commonalties rather than essentializing unity. Only a feministing approach of this sort, I argue, can mobilize diverse groups of gendered actors—including diverse men—to begin manifesting a feminist world in action.
What is “Feministing”?
The concept of “feministing” was popularized by sisters Jessica and Vanessa Valenti through their blog, “Feministing: Young Feminists Blogging, Organizing, Kicking Ass,” active from 2004–2019 (see https://feministing.com/). The influence of their initiative is reflected in contemporary feminist scholarship, particularly in analyses of the impact of digital activism and solidarity social movements (Hearn, Reference Hearn, Flood, Howson and Upon2015; Greyser et al., Reference Greyser, Mukhopadhyay and Beetham2012; Mowles, Reference Mowles2008). Most recently, the concept of feministing has become influential in feminist Canadian political science as an invaluable framework for pursuing disciplinary change (Cattapan et al., Reference Cattapan, Tungohan, Nath, MacDonald and Paterson2024; Collier, Reference Collier2023). As developed further in a later section of this article, I draw on the concept of feministing to underline the distinction between “doing” and “being.” Feministing represents an approach to becoming feminist through praxes of doing: uncovering and operationalizing points of solidarity across and within gender identities. In other words, feministing speaks to feminism as action(s) unrestricted by identity requirements.
My emphasis on feministing as activity is grounded in my position that feminism(s) that refuse to engage with the transformative possibilities of coalition-building efforts—possibilities that emerge once feminism(s) are free from identity boundaries and constraints—are profoundly limited in their ability to foster meaningful approaches to societal change. As discussed below, Black feminists (see, for example, Nash, Reference Nash2018; The Combahee River Collective, Reference Taylor2017; Hill Collins and Bilge, Reference Hill Collins and Bilge2016; May, Reference May2015; White, Reference White2008; Mohanty, Reference Mohanty2003; Brown, Reference Brown1992) have provided critical conceptual and practical ground for expansionist feminist approaches centred on coalitional feminist praxes that recognize difference as inherently relational. For example, in her 1992 piece, “What has Happened Here?,” Elsa Barkley Brown calls for the rejection of singular ways of knowing and/or telling the histories and experiences of race and gender. Instead, she argues for relational approaches that engage with stories as layered, multiple and chaotic. This focus, she argues, goes beyond recognizing or including difference, which may even be a way to avoid the challenges of difference (298). As Brown articulates, “a linear history will lead us to a linear politics and neither will service us well in an asymmetrical world” (312).
Similarly, Indigenous feminist scholars including Kuokkanen (Reference Kuokkanen2019), Starblanket (Reference Starblanket and Green2017) and Nixon (Reference Nixon, Nickel and Fehr2020) argue for Indigenous feminist relational processes of transformation grounded in relationality and care. In this vein, Kuokkanen advocates for “restructuring relations,” specifically, “state relations and gender relations,” in a manner that emphasizes “the importance of understanding the nature of relationships behind disputes and problems” (12). Informed by this scholarship, I argue for a relational approach based not on establishing feminist identities (that is, being feminist), but rather on becoming feminist through future-oriented actions. From this perspective, all feminists—regardless of gender identity—are always “becoming.” This approach is consistent with Sarah Ahmed's notion of “feminist tendency.” For Ahmed (Reference Ahmed2017), “A feminist movement that proceeds with too much confidence has cost us too much already [….] if a feminist tendency is what we work for, that tendency does not give us stable ground” (7). Destabilizing the man/woman binary, still central to many contemporary feminisms, is, I argue, an urgent and necessary intervention that provides expansive, if unstable, ground for feministing in the future.Footnote 1
Minding the Gap: Why Men, Masculinities and Masculinism(s) Matter Now
In this moment of profound backlash against women's rights and the corresponding revitalization of collective feminist actions, why focus on men in feminism now? The answer offered here is twofold. First, we are in a political moment in which the topics of masculinities and masculinisms have emerged in new ways as public issues in mainstream media and discourses. There is now an opportunity for feminists to respond to this mainstream appetite for interrogation and scrutiny on topics of gender related to masculinities and masculinisms. This moment is, of course, the legacy of feminist labour, but without expanding this labour and capitalizing on this political opportunity more fully, feminist voices may lose out to nonfeminist and/or antifeminist perspectives on men and masculinities in the public domain.
As Ravecca et al. (Reference Ravecca, Schenck, Fonseca and Forteza2022) explain, the current political context, in North and Latin America alike, is marked by the far-right's success in circumventing the conservative establishment through social media, particularly X (Twitter). As their research reveals, this trend is centred on a “simultaneous attack on the left, feminism, and the social diversity agenda.” These attacks are waged through simple, often brief, yet intensely emotional messages that invoke, “grotesque themes and imagery,” and that frame both “transgression and aggression” as inherently good and/or “cathartically cleansing” (44). Performing and/or defending particular notions of masculinity and/or masculinism is often foundational in these attacks. As John Grant and I have argued elsewhere, “masculinity matters in politics” (Reference Grant, MacDonald, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020, 369). Our work highlights the complex interplay and interconnections between “the alt-right, toxic masculinity, and violence” and calls for, “more work on men as gendered subjects” in political science, “particularly feminist work that is focused on the relational and intersectional nature of gender” (383). As recent events in Canada and beyond highlight, the politics of gender are increasingly polarized and the stakes are high for many communities, particularly queer and trans communities, in this reactionary environment.Footnote 2
Second, this political moment is, in many ways, an ideal time for feminists to fully engage with the revolutionary insights of intersectionality. The feminist activists and scholars who founded this revolution grounded their work on the premise that it is patriarchy, not feminism(s), that is so precariously centred on dualism and absolute incommensurabilities (May, Reference May2015; Hill Collins and Bilge, Reference Hill Collins and Bilge2016). While the concept of intersectionality is increasingly contested through ongoing “intersectionality wars” (Nash, Reference Nash2018: 6), the interpretation offered here critically rejects the binaries so foundational to the existing social order by operationalizing a “both/and” philosophy informed by theories of relationality and heterogeneity (Hill Collins and Bilge, Reference Hill Collins and Bilge2016; May, Reference May2015). From this perspective, intersectionality is centred on examining and challenging oppressive power relations and structures rather than the assertion and/or preservation of static identities. As such, it has the potential to shift scholarly focus away from the simple question of how gender identities are performed, to the question of how they are (variously) situated within a complex system of penalty and privilege. As Prasad (Reference Prasad, Centeno, Rhodes, Nisar, Taylor, Tienari and Alakavuklar2021) argues, contemporary feminist discourses have been catalyzed by the #MeToo and Times’ Up movements, including those related to “the role of men in achieving gender egalitarianism.” As these movements demonstrate:
Men are allocated unearned privilege associated with being a man [….] This fact alone charges men with the responsibility to account for the discursive and the institutional systems that afford them unearned privilege at certain relational costs that must be borne by women and, concomitantly, the feminine. (n.p.)
While interrogating existing masculinities and masculinisms is central to the hard work of challenging the existing order, it is not without risk. As Hearn (Reference Hearn2014) argues:
A key challenge is how to both name men as men, and at the same time, as a way of avoiding re-centering men, deconstruct and subvert men, and even consider the abolition of “men” as social category of power. This is important in knowledge creation; it involves working critically, reflexively and intersectionally, as well as reconstituting the relations of objectivity and subjectivity. (425)
In this article, I knowingly engage in this challenge by naming “men as men” while also considering this naming a necessary, if paradoxical, analytical strategy that may eventually contribute to the deconstruction of categorizing “men as men.” In other words, I take on this effort not to essentialize masculine identities or masculinist practices, but to critically engage with the varied ways in which dominant notions of masculinity reinforce various relations of power and privilege (Morris and Oeur, Reference Morris and Oeur2018).
To date, however, feminists have often sought to keep analyses of masculinities at arm's length. Consider, for instance, the following remark made by a colleague during a conversation about representation and voice in feminist movements, particularly on “the man question.” The colleague responded: “I don't care about the men's feelings!” Despite its terseness, comments like this one help to illustrate a broader ambivalence towards—if not disinterest in—the politics of men and masculinities within some feminist circles, both in the academy and beyond. Pauline Harmange's controversial book I Hate Men (Reference Harmange2020) offers a similar, yet even more extreme articulation of this position, as exemplified by her argument that misandry is both “necessary” and “healthy” (3).
As politics in Canada and beyond become increasingly polarized, I frequently return to my colleague's comment wondering how feminists will respond to complex issues of gender violence if we cannot engage with the full range of experiences and impacts that come with the many ways gender is structured and operationalized. In my experience, this refusal to engage with men as complex gendered subjects is often imbued with a notion that analytical complexity and/or attention is a scarce resource that cannot and should not be made available to everyone. I reject this scarcity-centred framework and the constraints it places on coalition efforts. Further, I argue that considering the question of men in feminism is, in fact, a valuable lens through which to consider the ongoing politics of voice, power and privilege within feminism(s) and how these politics relate to existing hierarchies. As discussed below, this perspective of feminism as ongoing, relational actions that occur in particular contexts, with particular actors, works to destabilize the gender binary and reveals an infinite spectrum of feminists “in becoming,” including those who identify as or are identified by others as men and those who reject binary gender categories, including those who identify as queer, trans, gender-fluid, two-spirited, androgynous and agender. Exploring these possibilities and the accompanying challenges through an examination of the various insights and implications offered by mainstream examples of feminist identity proclamation underlines the importance of rejecting static and/or abstract invocations of feminist identity and normative dualismFootnote 3 and highlights the value of alternative relational and contextual approaches to becoming feminist grounded in accountability through action(s).
The Feminist Proclamatory: Friend, Foe or Fallacy?
Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (2022) offers a compelling critical analysis of contemporary practices of political cooptation through his concept of elite capture. As Taiwo argues:
The concept of elite capture […] describes how political projects can be hijacked in principle or in effect by the well positioned and resourced [….] the idea also helps to explain how public resources such as knowledge, attention, and values become distorted and distributed by power structures (Emphasis added. Táíwò, 2022: 9–10)
Táíwò's warnings are glaringly illustrated by a range of feminist proclamations, most notably in the corporate and political spheres. For example, the large-scale, for-profit, American-based arms manufacturer Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, and Raytheon has clearly worked to “capture” intersectional representation to position themselves as feminist and, in so doing, to bypass criticisms of their products and their deadly impacts (Jester, Reference Jester2023). Lockheed Martin's website dedicates a page to “Celebrate Women's History Month with Extraordinary Employees,” which also features the mainstream feminist icon “Rosie the Riveter,” to underscore women's role in the weapons industry while completely ignoring the catastrophic ramifications of the same industry.Footnote 4 Indeed, the ways in which corporations increasingly employ feminist proclamations as a signal of commitments to advancing women's social, economic and political positions not only endangers the relational aspects of being feminist, but also underscores the hollowness of feminism identity without action. This hollow positionality, mobilized through catch-all feminist proclamations, is, as Táíwò warns, entirely devoid of meaningful reflection and accountability.
Such proclamatory practices are increasingly evident beyond the corporate sphere. Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau's self-described “feminist government” provides a provocative example when engaging with questions of feminist men and the risks of “elite capture.” Trudeau's self-identification and operationalization of being a feminist illustrates some of the most significant stakes in the invocation of static and/or abstract notions of feminist identity and, in so doing, illustrates the value(s) of alternative relational and contextual approaches to “becoming” feminist, particularly (but not only) when examining the politics of men and masculinities. Trudeau's feminist proclamation garnered him significant positive attention both nationally and internationally. His public embrace of feminist identity, particularly at a time when feminist identities appeared to be on the decline amongst young women (see Aronson, Reference Aronson2003; O'Neill, Gidengil and Young, Reference O'Neill, Gidengil and Young2008; O'Neill, Reference O'Neill2017), also reframed the meaning of the term for various observers.Footnote 5 For many Canadian women, Trudeau's enthusiasm for policies of gender equity and inclusion was a welcome sea change after years of open hostility to feminist issues under the previous Harper administrationFootnote 6 (Ashe, Reference Ashe, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020; Dobrowolsky, Reference Dobrowolsky, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020). Trudeau's gender-equal cabinet made this ideological shift visible and was an important achievement at a time when topics of gender equity and feminism were increasingly vilified by many government leaders, most notably the Trump administration and its supporters. Yet Trudeau's feminism also came under increasing scrutiny, leading one major Canadian news periodical to cover the front page with the question, “Is Justin Trudeau a Fake Feminist?” In the accompanying article, journalist Anne Kingston (Reference Kingston2016) argues Trudeau is “not so feminist,” suggesting that his particular feminism is much more opportunistic branding and brokerage politicking than a meaningful socio-political position. This assessment is strongly supported by Ashe (Reference Ashe, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020) in her longitudinal assessment of gender sensitivity in legislatures and her finding that, “despite the heavy equality rhetoric, Trudeau only modestly outperforms Harper in terms of substantive change” (69).
Oxfam's Canada's Feminist Scorecard reports provide similar assessments. According to the Oxfam Canada 2017 report, while Trudeau's Liberal government maintained its “bold feminist rhetoric” there was very little movement from the government in terms of policy and funding that would tangibly advance gender equality. Only one of the eight policy categories assessed showed significant progress (the category of “leadership and representation”) while the category showing the least progress was “inclusive growth” due to the government's failure to, “close the gender wage gap or to ensure living wages for the working poor, the majority of whom are women” (n.p.). The 2022 Oxfam Canada scorecard is somewhat more positive suggesting that “the world needs a feminist, green recovery now,” and that the current Trudeau government has “put forward several laudable initiatives this past year, which moved the needle towards that goal,” most notably, “the government's historic investment in a national childcare system” (n.p). The Oxfam scorecard offers one perspective on the credibility of Trudeau's “feminist government” and is a valuable, if limited, tool for assessing action in relation to rhetoric. Feminists of different ideological perspectives and standpoints will presumably disagree about how well Trudeau is meeting feminist demands and how much change is reasonable to expect from his administration.
While these reports are useful in these debates, I focus on elements that are not captured in these assessments. In considering the merits of Trudeau as a feminist, it is also imperative to consider how the Trudeau feminist agenda is participating in feminist meaning-making that impacts the politics of voice, privilege and oppression in complex and often contradictory ways. As Dobrowolsky (Reference Dobrowolsky, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020) argues:
Trudeau's words and deeds contained multiple versions of liberalism and feminism. More specifically, emergent neoliberal feminism combined with long-standing market and human capital (i.e. skills, knowledge, education, and experience considered to be valuable and marketable) priorities translated into politics that benefitted the few rather than the many, when gender, race and class are taken into consideration. (24)
Indeed, Trudeau's remarks at International Women's Day events at the House of Commons reveal the limitations of Trudeau's brand of neoliberal feminism. On March 8, 2017, the Canadian House of Commons hosted 338 young women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three—one from each of the federal ridings—to take part in a “Daughters of the Vote” event to promote the participation of women in politics and government.Footnote 7 Thirty of the participants made statements in the House that day and, in so doing, provided a window into how some young Canadian women are thinking about society and our obligations to one another. One participant raised the issue of democratic reform—specifically, she questioned the Trudeau government's failure to follow through on an election promise to consider proportional representation as an important component in advancing women's equal representation in elected office. Trudeau's response was as follows:
Before I could create a gender-balanced parliament I went out and tried to convince amazing women to run for politics [….] and it's always a challenge to get women to run for politics because when you ask a man if he wants to run for politics his first question is “When would I start?”, when you ask a woman if she wants to run for politics all too often it's “ Do you really think I'd be good at it? Do you really think I should?” There's an uncertainty there and we need to be better at convincing women to run, convincing women to step forward.
This statement from Trudeau is a textbook example of the issues at stake in current critiques of men in feminism, particularly as they relate to voice, privilege, framing and meaning-making. Rosi Braidotti (Reference Braidotti2011), for example, argues, “men aren't and shouldn't be IN feminism: the feminist space is not theirs and not for them to see” (264). From this perspective, feminist men are opportunistic invaders of hard-won feminist locations and discourses. Feminist men may be, “the best male friends we've got, but, ‘they’ are not really what we hoped for” (265). While Braidotti's deepest criticisms are directed at feminist men in academia, they are also strikingly relevant to the realm of party politics:
“They” can circle round women's studies departments in crisis-struck arts faculties, knowing that here's one of the few areas of the academy that is still expanding financially with student enrolment at both undergraduate and graduate levels. “They” play the academic career game with great finesse, knowing the rule about feminist politics of locations and yet ignoring it. (265)
Trudeau's superficial assessment of women's underrepresentation in politics and his simplistic, highly individualized notion of what to do about it reflects the kind of shallow opportunistic engagement with feminism Braidotti warns against. The idea that women are underrepresented primarily because of a failure in self-esteem or self-worth does nothing to address the many complex factors that have been identified as significant impediments to women's equal representation such as institutional sexism and discriminatory party candidate selection processes as well as the real, rational, intelligent and emotional reasons why many women may not want to run for office (Ashe, Reference Ashe2017; Thomas, Reference Thomas2018). It does nothing to highlight that the Canadian House of Commons, and other houses of representation across the country and abroad remain bastions of traditional masculinity and masculinism (Ashe, Reference Ashe, MacDonald and Dobrowolsky2020; Childs, Reference Childs2016). Trudeau fails to engage with the complex structural context in which decisions of political participation are made, criticizing women for not doing more for themselves and simultaneously projecting himself as a champion of women and feminism.
Overall, the Trudeau example highlights that men's involvement in feminism deserves careful and critical consideration, and prompts reflection on the locations, material situatedness and experiential knowledge(s) that have been, and remain, central to feminist praxis. Trudeau's co-optation of feminist rhetoric, without many substantive feminist commitments or analyses, appears to support the argument that feminism should be something enacted by women for women.
The argument that to be a feminist one must have the experiences of being a woman—experiences that are then politicized and operationalized when one becomes a feminist—is a complex and powerful position. Experiential knowledge is consistently underlined as integral within feminist scholarship and praxis alike. Jane Mansbridge's work on descriptive representation in democratic institutions is illustrative on this point. For Mansbridge, shared experience is a virtue at the centre of descriptive representation (Reference Mansbridge1999: 629). In certain contexts, disadvantaged groups benefit from being represented democratically by those who share a background that mirrors the “typical experiences and outward manifestations of belonging to the disadvantaged group” (Reference Mansbridge, Kymlicka and Norman2000: 99–100). More specifically, descriptive representation matters in debates on uncrystallized issues, contexts of mistrust and circumstances in which the social meaning of one's group membership can be changed via inclusion in law-making institutions (Reference Mansbridge1999; Reference Mansbridge, Kymlicka and Norman2000). Thus, while descriptive representation does not always matter, sometimes it matters a great deal. The Trudeau example illustrates some of the risks that come with an anything goes approach to feminist identity, including both cooptation and opportunism.
Yet, it is also important to note that neither corporate feminist behavior nor Trudeau's feminist government is representative of all feminist men but rather illustrate certain examples of elite capture by highly privileged men in positions of power who are particularly accustomed to being listened to as authorities (Hearn, Reference Hearn2014). While Trudeau has, in many ways, proven to be disappointing for feminism, we can learn much from his cooptation of feminist discourses and agenda.Footnote 8
These lessons, I suggest, are threefold. First, self-identified feminists must be answerable for their public and/or professional feminist identities. Second, increased accountability can be fostered by emphasizing feminism as a reflexive practice that engages directly with the privileges, opportunities and constraints of various gender positions. All feminists are well advised to make their location within the current order a central feature of this reflection and to reject any uncritical and/or dislocated championing of others to offer a counterweight to feminist proclamations devoid of action. A third, albeit related, lesson we can draw from the Trudeau example is the benefit of actively uncovering heterogeneous commonalities that defy abstract gender binaries by embracing a relational concept of gender.
On “Becoming”: Identities and Allyships
The importance of recognizing the central value of experiential knowledge discussed above may seem a compelling argument for a politics of allyship as an avenue for political support and/or solidarity that still maintains the identity boundaries of group membership. Yet, as MacKinnon (Reference MacKinnon, Polhaus, Kidd and Medina2017) asserts, the politics of alliance are often viewed with suspicion by nondominant actors as many allies have consistently proven the capacity to “behave badly.” This bad behaviour can cause epistemic and emotional harm to nondominant actors. Acts of oppression in these contexts can include perpetuating a context of doubt or disbelief, upholding a binary between reason and emotion, and taking a position of authority/voice on behalf of nondominant members of society. The impact of these harms, perpetrated by an ally in moments of vulnerability and need, can often be more severe than the original experience or assertion the person desired to share in the first place (n.p.). Allies generally tend to overestimate the positive impact they are making as allies (Brown and Ostrove, Reference Brown and Ostrove2013: 2220; MacKinnon, Reference MacKinnon, Polhaus, Kidd and Medina2017). Further, when confronted with criticism of their behaviour, many allies often respond insensitively and negatively, even “going on the attack,” in response (MacKinnon, Reference MacKinnon, Polhaus, Kidd and Medina2017: n.p.).
These findings are consistent with the broader critical race scholarship that has been so central to unpacking how “helping” and/or “good intensions” can be a vehicle for oppression (Narayan, Reference Narayan1998; Hill Collins, Reference Hill Collins1990; Mohanty, Reference Mohanty1990). As Mahrouse (Reference Mahrouse, Razack, Thobani and Smith2010) argues, “many well-meaning social justice efforts and interventions are incredibly rich sites for exploring racialized privilege and whiteness because they reveal the extent to which white hegemony and the liberal paradigm impede changes that might otherwise shift existing power relations” (n.p.). In her examination of three social justice organizations (International Women's Peace Service, Tourism Concern and Global Exchange) Mahrouse demonstrates how the particular framings, foci and conceptions of power underlying social justice initiatives can have counterintuitive impacts including the further empowerment of those already in positions of privilege and the reinforcement of the systems and structures that support existing hierarchies. Mahrouse shows that while each of these organizations are well intentioned to “do good,” the liberal frame underlying these organizations significantly limits their efforts by obscuring complicity in power imbalances and promoting de-politicized notions of equality allowing those with privilege to act as innocent and/or benevolent subjects.
Drawing on C.W. Mills, Mahrouse argues, “Liberalism poses great challenges for social justice” as its notions of fairness and equality have become so dominant in social justice frames that they are almost impossible to argue against” (n.p). This impossibility can of course be valuable if one's agenda matches a liberal frame. For example, Matthews and Erickson's work (Reference Matthews and Erickson2005) on the legalization of same-sex marriage in Canada demonstrates that framing the issue as one of “universal equality” (that is, giving all Canadians the same right to marriage equally) as opposed to a special interest issue (that is, special LGBTQA rights) was fundamental in garnering the public will to support this initiative. At the same time, LGBTQA Canadians who favoured politics that deconstructed rather than reinforced the institution of marriage were largely shut out of mainstream discourse and debate (Smith, Reference Smith2007; Boyd, Reference Boyd2013).
The same kind of paradox is evident with Trudeau's feminism. If one's feminism is of the liberal variety—highly individualized, focused on rights-based solutions and legal strategies to promote equal opportunity—Trudeau and his feminist government may be ideal feminist allies. If not, attempting to get alternative understandings of feminism that challenge the government's brand on to the political agenda may remain almost impossible. Governments are highly skilled at co-opting the discourses of social justice movements and, when done effectively, this co-optation gives the appearance that demands are already being met. At its worst, this practice can result in vulnerable populations facing further domination and exclusion but in newer and less obvious forms as the traceability of government policy and state accountability are obscured through “progressive” rhetoric and symbolic change.
Overall, the constraints of allyship can be significant. The risks of cooptation, depoliticization and complicity have led some, including MacKinnon (Reference MacKinnon, Polhaus, Kidd and Medina2017), to reject the notion of “ally” and “ally culture” altogether whereas other critics, such as Yee (Reference Yeen.d.), work to politicize the concept of ally by situating power and voice at the centre of the concept.
Yee's conception of “consensual allies” offers an important contribution to debates on representation and allyship. Like MacKinnon, Yee (also published as Danforth) argues that, when imposed, practices of solidarity and alliance replicate the same oppression being resisted (as cited in Hunt and Holmes, Reference Hunt and Holmes2015: 167). In addition to the harms listed above, allies who behave badly may also use their position as “ally” to defend their actions and/or protect themselves from criticism. Yet, allyship is “not a get-out-of jail free card” and, Yee reminds us, it should not be taken on lightly (Yee, Reference Yeen.d.: n.p.). Unlike MacKinnon, Yee does not reject the notion of allyship completely. Instead, she develops a notion of “consensual allyship” that prioritizes the accountability of allies from dominant groups (Hunt and Holmes, Reference Hunt and Holmes2015: 162). If consent is situated at the centre of allyship there is no room for any “safe” (that is, depoliticized) identity as an ally. Instead, allyship is always a high complex political relationship of activity. While Yee's work on politicizing allyship offers important insights, the approach to feministing offered below represents a different kind of subject position or praxis than that associated with allyship to envision a feminist coalition-building based on uncovering various imperfect, temporal commonalties rather than essentialized or static identities.
Intersectional Terrain and Exceptionality Restraints
In Culture and Imperialism, Edward Said stresses, “No one today is purely one thing. Labels like Indian, or woman, or Muslim, or American are not more than starting-points, which if followed into actual experience for only a moment are quickly left behind” (Reference Said1994: 336). He further argues, “Imperialism consolidated the mixture of cultures and identities on a global scale. But its worst and most paradoxical gift was to allow people to believe that they were only, mainly, exclusively, white, or Black, or Western, or Oriental” (336). For Said, “the persisting continuities of long traditions, sustained habitations, national languages, and cultural geographies,” offer little other than “fear and prejudice to keep insisting on their separation and distinctiveness, as if that was all human life was about. Survival in fact is about the connections between things.” (emphasis added, Reference Said1994:336). Said's arguments strike at the centre of contemporary feminist tensions and debates on identity and inclusion. How then can we remedy these limiting exceptional and essential categorizations while still making space for experiential knowledge? Jennifer Nash's insightful reflections on intersectionality offer an answer.
Nash argues that feminism's transformative possibilities are stalled when intersectionality is theorized in ways that are constrained by the legacy and limitations of identity politics. For Nash, intersectionality's “primary intervention” has been, “to add complexity to existing identity categories, not to jettison identity categories altogether” (Reference Nash2018: 5). Indeed, intersectionality has become the dominant lens and/or approach for contemporary feminist scholarship, activism and policy, and is often invoked to argue for descriptive representation alongside, or within, “diversity” and “inclusion” efforts (Nash, Reference Nash2018: 12).
As the concept of intersectionality has become more popular, it has also become increasingly contested. Ongoing debates have led to reflections on the possibilities of “after” or “post” intersectionality feminism(s) in large part due to what Jennifer Nash describes as intersectionality's rhetorical and symbolic “collapse into diversity, and […] inclusion project[s]” that resonates with the mission of various organizations and structures, including “the so-called corporate university” (Reference Nash2018: 12). When operationalized in this way, intersectionality, “simply replaces simplistic shorthand with seemingly more precise shorthand” (Reference Nash2018: 15). In other words, while intersectionality has been invaluable in recognizing the complexity of people's lives, when this complexity leads to fixed identarian approaches, the transformative impact of intersectional praxis is lost.
Nash further critiques any proprietary or defensive efforts to claim intersectionality that hinder “visionary work-making capacities” and instead argues for a practice of “letting go” (Reference Nash2018: 3):
If “holding on” describes the set of black feminist practices this project seeks to disrupt, “letting go” represents the political and theoretical worldview this project advances, a vision of black feminist theory that is not invested in making property of knowledge. (Reference Nash2018, 3)
In advocating for “letting go,” Nash articulates an expansive and political conceptualization of Black feminism that welcomes, “anyone with an investment in black women's humanity, intellectual labor, and political visionary work, anyone with an investment in theorizing black genders and sexualities in complex and nuanced ways,” including “black, white, and nonblack scholars of color who labored adjacent to black feminist theory […] even as they make their claim from different identity locations” (5). This approach, she explains, is a political decision:
One that is staged mindful of black feminists’ long-standing critique of how the university “disappears” black women. Shifting the content of black feminism from a description of bodies to modes of intellectual production might generate precisely the anxious defensiveness this book describes and attempts to unsettle. Nonetheless, I invest in a broad conception of black feminism—and black feminists—precisely because of my commitment to tracing black feminist theory's expansive intellectual, political, ethical, and creative reach, one that I see as always transcending attempts to limit the tradition by rooting it in embodied performances [….] it is the ongoing conception that black feminism is the exclusive category of black women that traps and limits black feminists and black women academics who continue to be conscripted into performing and embodying their intellectual investments. (5)
Nash's Black Feminism Reimagined (Reference Nash2018) is an urgent intervention for feminists looking to engage in coalitional politics. Nash lays out the high costs of identity focused feminisms and instead offers an approach that recognizes the “nonidentitarian political labor” often overlooked in Black feminisms (Reference Nash2018: 3). She operationalizes a relational both/and approach and develops a vision of Black feminism(s) that maintains the insights of intersectional theory but rejects identity constraints.
Overall, Nash's work on post-intersectional feminism raises several questions including, “what does it mean to ‘be’ feminist in the future”? and “who can or should be able to operationalize this identity?” This reflective, active and contextual approach is at the centre of my argument for “becoming” feminist that also draws on Arneil's (Reference Arneil, Archard and Macleod2002) work on “becoming” in relation to children and citizenship. “Becoming,” Arneil argues, always “encompasses the contradictory notions of ‘being’ and the negation of ‘being’ simultaneously” and involves three interrelated aspects (71). First, becoming is generally defined by an end product, “by the particular ‘being’ one is to become.” Thus, anything or anyone referenced as “in becoming” are being perceived from a notion of the future, “a specific end to which they are directed” (71). Second, is the process through which that end goal is pursued. The final aspect is one of scope—who is included and/or excluded by the process (71).
Inspired by Arneil's conceptualization, I argue that all feminists are always in becoming. We are becoming feminist when we begin a process of critical engagement with our own various contradictory positions of power, privilege and constraint. Contradiction, I argue, does not undermine the process of becoming but is rather integral to the process itself as it is through an ongoing reflexivity that a future of becoming feminist exists. Yet, the future end point is never reached as feminism is always in flux.
From an “in becoming” approach, feminist is not an identity that can be certified and/or leveraged. Rather, feminism in becoming is activity. Through the activities of becoming, the boundary of inclusion will shift in response to the process itself. For instance, if a feminist in becoming responds poorly to constructive criticism of their actions (that is, behaves badly), said feminist in becoming may be excluded from particular feminist spaces and discussions, regardless of their gender identity. This exclusion need not translate into a notion of failure to become feminist, or a practice of permanent exclusion, but rather as a possible happening in the process of becoming.
Feministing as activity, as opposed to feminist identity, facilitates a political practice of both/and. As one continues in becoming, one's relation to various others will shift and change. From this perspective, it is the question of men being in feminism itself that is problematic, not the notion of men as feminists. “Being” is too abstract, too static, stable and absolute. The notion of “becoming,” on the other hand, premised on context, action, instability and contestation, does not require permanence nor resolute commitment on the question of who may “be” in at any particular moment.
Feministing as Relational Praxis
“Feministing” […] involves building upon, and moving beyond, the emphasis on “feminist political science” as a disciplinary subfield. Most importantly, the full significance and potential of “feministing” is to be found in a core focus on challenging established ways of doing things, of “rattling” the system, and calling for meaningful, long-term, and holistic transformation. (Chamindra Weerawardhana, Reference Weerawardhana, Cattapan, Tungohan, Nath, MacDonald and Paterson2024: 306)
Relational approaches that encourage analyses of the in-between are an important aspect of “feministing,” inspired by, but not limited to, the legacy of intersectionality. As Collins and Bilge (Reference Hill Collins and Bilge2016) argue, “the focus on relationality shifts from analyzing what distinguishes entities—for example, the differences between race and gender—to examining their interconnections. This shift in perspective opens up intellectual and political possibilities” (emphasis added, 27–28). Conceptualizing intersectionality as a lens that uncovers and examines interconnections has been central for intersectionality as theory and praxis throughout its development, and yet, it often remains an underexplored aspect.
As May (Reference May2015) argues, much feminist scholarship and praxis that claims to be “intersectional” often upholds binary oriented either/or thinking and essentialist approaches to both identity and politics (ix). When intersectionality is (mis)used in this way it often becomes a powerful tool to silence, shame and separate. The approach I offer here is grounded on the premise that political strategies based on essentialist separation(s) are not intersectional. Political strategies based on essentialist separations(s) do not challenge patriarchy but rather reinforce it by upholding traditional binaries and hierarchies. Intersectionality, on the other hand, is centered on heterogeneity and relation.
From an intersectional standpoint, both individuals and groups are understood as internally heterogeneous. This perspective emphasizes the heterogeneity of all agents and seeks out the complex intersectional relations of power that constrain and enable particular agents in particular contexts with the goal of revealing and encouraging feminist coalition building. Drawing on Kuokkanen (Reference Kuokkanen2019), we might see intersectionality as a politics of restructuring grounded in relational autonomy, one that emphasizes “the importance of understanding the nature of relationships behind disputes and problems” (11) and that fosters a queering approach to, “restructuring relations of domination such as heteropatriarchy, heteronormativity, capitalism, and white supremacy” (17).
While feminists are now deeply engaged with questions of relational heterogeneity related to women, this engagement has yet to be meaningfully extended beyond the category of “women.” Yet there is an emerging departure from this position amongst some feminists, particularly Black feminists. The Combahee River Collective Statement How We Get Free, originally published over forty years ago, clearly rejects a politics of separatism based on gender: “Although we are feminists and lesbians, we feel solidarity with progressive Black men and do not advocate the fractionalization that white women who are separatists demand” (Reference Taylor2017: 17). A more recent example of scholarship drawing on this philosophical legacy is Aronette M. White's work on Black feminist men. In Ain't I a Feminist? (Reference White2008), White draws on interviews with Black feminist men to show that while men do reap many benefits from gender power imbalances they are also “hurt and dehumanized by patriarchy” (ix). While White acknowledges the initial skepticism she felt when first embarking on this research, she also shares how this skepticism left her, “unprepared for the profoundly moving impact of the participants stories” (viii):
Their level of self-disclosure, honesty about their earlier lives, and candor regarding their ongoing struggles to unlearn sexist behaviors and resist patriarchal institutions changed my attitude. I had participated in sometimes heated debates about whether any man, regardless of his actions or attitudes could rightly be called a feminist, so the change in my attitude unnerved me at first. (viii–ix)
White clearly articulates how the “contradictory experiences of power among men can lead them to question patriarchy and willingly embrace feminism” (xv). Hurtado's (Reference Hurtado and Sinha2008) work on Latino feminist masculinities and intersectionality also speaks to the gains that can be made from an inclusive approach to men and feminism. For Hurtado, “given the negative consequences associated with adherence to hegemonic masculinity feminist engagement on the part of men can be a more constructive (and social justice oriented) response to the oppressive restrictiveness of masculinity as a social construct” (n.p.). In a similar vein, Rainbow Murray (Reference Murray2015) underlines the limitations for feminism(s) that assume, “men do not suffer from gender oppression.” More specifically, Murray questions the common assumption that all men have their interests represented, “given their over-representation within positions of power” (2). Yet, Murray contends, “these assumptions neglect the fact that men are also heterogeneous and subject to great diversity of identities and interests” (2). The diversity, however, is rarely represented in “male elites,” nor has it brought any in-depth public engagement on the numerous policies “that have a distinctive gendered impact on men and which merit greater analysis from a gendered perspective […] including, ‘health, education, war, crime, paternity and employment’ ” (2).
Murray's point is further reinforced by Woodhams, Lupton and Cowling's (Reference Woodhams, Lupton and Cowling2015) findings that men who work in female dominated areas of employment are disproportionately drawn from disadvantaged groups of men, “specifically in relation to minority ethnicity and disability” (277). Their research clearly demonstrates the complex intersectional impacts of gender, ethnicity, and disability that, “sort disadvantaged men into lower-level and part-time work alongside women” and that, “men from ethnic minorities and men with disabilities are disproportionally less likely than other men to ride the glass escalator to higher-level work” (425). As this scholarship reveals, an intersectional approach to men and masculinities can offer a range of possibilities for feminist coalition praxis founded on heterogeneous commonality that recognizes and learns from the intersectional realities of differently gendered agents.Footnote 9 It is, in fact, these commonalities that facilitate becoming feminist as political solidarity freed from the constraining logic of sameness and the development of coalitions formed without overshadowing the situatedness of, and the tensions between, agents. This emphasis on coalition-building is central in the emerging discourse on “feministing” in Canadian political science. As Jamilah Dei-Sharpe and Kimberley Manning articulate:
To reworld the university is to engage in intentional practices that enable the flourishing of racialized peoples - students, faculty, and staff - while simultaneously dismantling the colonial logic at the bedrock of the academy. We see reworlding generally, and coalition-building specifically, as means of disrupting the current eurocentric worldview/order that dominates higher education. (Reference Dei-Sharpe, Manning, Cattapan, Tungohan, Nath, MacDonald and Paterson2024: 247)
In imagining how these intersectional coalitions “in becoming” might develop, Nancy Fraser's work on counterpublics also provides valuable insight. Fraser (Reference Fraser1997) makes a strong case for multiple publics in stratified democratic societies arguing, “arrangements that accommodate contestation among a plurality of competing publics better promote the ideal of participatory parity than does a single, comprehensive, overarching public” (81). For Fraser, the existing socio-economic-political inequalities of a society will always pervade the deliberative processes in the public sphere:
Where social inequality persists, deliberative processes in public spheres will tend to operate to the advantage of dominant groups and to the disadvantage of subordinates [….] these effects will be exacerbated where there is only a single, comprehensive public sphere. In that case, members of subordinated groups would have no arenas for deliberation among themselves about their needs, objectives, and strategies [….] They would be less able than otherwise to expose modes of deliberation that mask domination by “absorbing the less powerful into a false ‘we’ that reflects the more powerful.” (81)
Recognizing that not all discursive spaces are automatically open to members of various dominant group members is an integral part of “becoming” feminist. Here, the notion of consent is paramount. Alternative publics have been central throughout democratic history for members of subordinated social groups. These subaltern counterpublics, “are parallel discursive arenas where members of subordinated social groups invent and circulate counterdiscourses, which in turn, permit them to formulate oppositional interpretations of their identities, interests, and needs” (81). As such, they have been and remain invaluable for various feminist collectives as spaces that foster the development of new terms and concepts that reflect the experiences of various women as articulated by various women. Terms that are now relatively mainstream such as “sexism,” “sexual harassment” and “the double shift” all had their origins in feminist subaltern counterpublics—spaces that were distinct from the dominant public sphere and generally closed to dominant social-political actors.
Feminists are differently situated in complex intersections of gender, sexual orientation, race, ability and class. Feminist collectives may therefore find it necessary to close some discursive spaces, at least some of the time, to foster modes of communication and strategy as well as to provide emotional, psychological, and physical safety and support.Footnote 10 The questions of voice, appropriation and privilege are pervasive in feminist politics, and these questions are central for feminists in becoming. Some feminist spaces will, at least some of the time, be closed to some feminists. Those individuals or groups seeking to join or represent these collectives should actively seek out consent before entering and/or participating in feminist counterpublics. With these complexities in mind, however, it is important to remember that subaltern counterpublics are still publics. More specifically, what makes these subaltern discursive spaces public in the political sense is the understanding that communication will not remain subaltern but will eventually be mobilized outside the subaltern counterpublic space to impact other spaces including other counterpublics and the dominant or comprehensive public sphere. Thus, counterpublics have a “contestory function” that mitigates against “separatism” (82). As such, the politics of counterpublics are informed by strategies of both/and. From this perspective, feminist collectives can choose to be both open and closed depending on the specific locations, politics and goals specific actors are seeking at any specific time.
“Becoming” as a Horizon
The topic of feminist masculinity is both urgent and underexplored. Yet the need to take on this line of inquiry is increasingly recognized in mainstream media and discourse, which in turn creates a particular moment in the political opportunity structure. For example, in a 2018 article published in HipLATINA, journalist Mariela Rosario asks, “How do we combat sexism and raise boys into men who value and respect women as equals?” (Reference Rosario2018: n.p.) Similarly, Kate Maltby (Reference Maltby2016) argues in The Telegraph, “If feminists are to offer the men around us a constructive modern masculinity, it has to be rooted in male responsibility,” and New York Times journalist Claire Cain Miller argues, “If we want to create an equitable society, one in which everyone can thrive, we need to also give boys more choices” (Reference Cain Miller2017: n.p.). While there appears to be growing momentum in the public domain on the need to conceptualize and articulate feminist masculinities, there remains little scholarship on how to pursue this need. Developing a robust politics of feminism centred on “becoming” is, I argue, an important response to current socio-political discourse. A deeply intersectional feminist politics that critically rejects the binaries grounding the existing social order is, I argue, the most promising response to this context.
An expansion of the feminist agenda that draws on the important insights of intersectional theory while rejecting essentialist selectivism or exclusivity is crucial if feminism is to offer meaningful analyses on the gendered world in which we live. While the focus of this article has been on the potential role of those who identify, or are identified by others, as “men,” this expansionist feminist approach also centres gender politics that challenge the traditional gender binary including queer, transgender, two-spirited, gender-fluid, androgynous and agender articulations and experiences. With this larger goal in mind, I have argued that the politics of masculinities is an urgent and under-explored topic of inquiry for feminism(s). As such I want to challenge men—particularly men who take on the title of feminist for their own political agenda/career gains—to do more gender work. To become feminist, it is not enough to “encourage women.” Instead, becoming feminist demands confronting the complexities of one's own place in the gender order, from the individual to the institutional level.
To become feminist is to actively engage in reflexive work and dialogue. We can support and encourage this work by inviting dialogue on the complexities of becoming feminist and seeking out heterogeneous commonalities. In so doing, we can also work to break down the existing silos within academia and social movements between “mainstream” and “other” politics. The hard work of transforming unjust gender relations is not a “niche” area of inquiry but rather requires that everyone is invited, if not obligated, to participate in creating change.
Acknowledgments
I would like to express my deepest appreciation to Dr. Sara Farhan, Dr. Nick Dorzweiler, and Dr. Stephanie Paterson for their conversation, feedback and suggestions on this manuscript.
Open access
