Abstract
In this study, we investigate the practice of feminism among young South Korean women in the era of backlash. Drawing on interviews with 40 female college students in South Korea, we found that most of the participants self-identify as feminists who engage in feminist activities primarily in private offline settings on their college campuses. To understand this phenomenon of quiet feminism, which contradicts the global trend of postfeminist attitudes and online feminism, we link the students’ offline practice of everyday feminism with what we term everyday backlash. Our findings reveal that these young women have encountered widespread antifeminist sentiments in both online and offline everyday contexts since the rapid popularization of feminism in South Korea in the late 2010s. We argue that this pervasive everyday backlash not only motivates the students to create safe spaces within their college campuses but also discourages them from publicly disclosing their feminist identities. Through this research, we contribute to the literature on contemporary feminist practice and its relationship with backlash by offering a nuanced understanding of the local context in South Korea.
During the mid to late 2010s, as digital feminism gained momentum and the #MeToo movement became widespread worldwide, a similar yet distinct feminist movement emerged in South Korea (hereafter Korea). While state feminism had been led by professional activists and had become institutionalized in the process (S.-K. Kim and Kim 2011), young women who had no connection with the older, established women’s movement in Korea actively utilized digital platforms to form online and offline alliances under the banner of feminism (Jang 2016; J. S. Kim 2021). Starting with the #iamafeminist Twitter activism (J. S. Kim 2017), they created websites to mock men in response to online misogyny (Jang 2016), engaged in “sticky activism” 1 to commemorate victims of misogynic violence against women (J. S. Kim 2021), and orchestrated the largest demonstration in the history of the women’s movement by denouncing the illegal filming of women’s bodies (Moon 2022). These events and activists have prompted gender scholars in Korea to theorize this as a “feminism reboot” (Sohn 2017) or the popularization of feminism (B.-M. Kim 2018; J. S. Kim 2021; Seo and Choi 2020). With feminism gaining increasing visibility and mention in society, antifeminist discourse has also surged, particularly among young men (J. S. Kim 2021; J. Kim 2023; T. Kim and Yuk 2022). This surge has contributed to heightened gender conflict in Korean society to the extent that it became a major topic in the 2022 presidential election 2 (H. J. Kim and Lee 2022).
In this study, we examine how young women in Korea, who have immersed themselves in the recently popularized feminism, practice feminism within a social context where antifeminist sentiments have become more prevalent than ever. We situate our investigation in the transnational literature about the relationship between backlash and feminism. The increased visibility of feminism in the form of popular feminism within digital society triggered a strong reactionary response of popular misogyny (Banet-Weiser 2018). Digital feminists, who played a significant role in popularizing feminism in Korea, have also experienced pervasive misogyny over the past decade (J. S. Kim 2021). However, little is known about how antifeminist backlash impacts the everyday practice of feminism among individual women. Previous studies have focused primarily on the reaction of women’s movements or institutions to antifeminist backlash, rather than examining the private sphere and the everyday actions of individual feminists (e.g., see Colpitts 2020; Cullen 2021; Sanders and Jenkins 2022).
Recognizing that different forms of backlash can influence feminist actions in various ways (Mansbridge and Shames 2008), we explore how the so-called everyday backlash, relevant to contemporary Korean society, influences the daily practices of feminism among young women. On the basis of interviews with 40 female college students in Korea, we discovered that these students engage in what we term quiet feminism. We define quiet feminism as an agentic, everyday feminist practice performed by self-identified feminists who maintain a low profile in sheltered environments under unreceptive social contexts toward feminism. While most of our participants willingly adopt the label of feminist, they are cautious about openly expressing their feminist identity, including in digital spaces. Despite practicing everyday feminism in their daily lives, their feminist actions take place primarily in private offline settings—contrary to the prevalence of digital activism among young feminists noted by some scholars in Western contexts (Banet-Weiser 2018; Mendes, Ringrose, and Keller 2019; Pruchniewska 2019). We argue that this practice of quiet feminism is a response to the pervasive everyday backlash that women encounter in their online and offline routines and surroundings. While quiet feminism represents a form of discreet action rather than overt collective resistance, signifying a state of abeyance in the feminist movement, we also argue that it helps construct a steadfast feminist identity for emerging feminists, suggesting a pool of potential recruits and constituents for the future rebound of the feminist movement after abeyance. Through this research, we aim to contribute to the literature on contemporary feminist practice and backlash by providing a nuanced understanding of the local context in Korea.
Diverse Forms Of Feminism And Antifeminist Backlash
Amid persistent claims of feminism’s demise and the rise of the postfeminist era (Butler 2013; McRobbie 2004), gender scholars contend that feminism has not disappeared but has assumed diverse forms (Crossley 2017; Reger 2012). In the examination of young Western college students, researchers have observed distinct patterns in the perspectives, identification, and practices of young women concerning feminism. The “I am not a feminist, but” literature illustrates how young women reject feminist identification to avoid the negative stigma associated with feminism while advocating core gender equality principles (Aronson 2003; Dyer and Hurd 2018; Williams and Wittig 1997). Recent scholarship has also emphasized that young women engage in everyday feminism, which differs from the collective action of the second-wave feminist movement, aiming to challenge everyday sexism in their lives (Crossley 2017; Schuster 2017). Furthermore, an increasing number of women are becoming involved in digital feminism, especially as they navigate hyper-networked societies (Keller 2012; Mendes, Ringrose, and Keller 2019; Pruchniewska 2019).
Contemporary feminism in Korea has developed a unique local form while mirroring the broader global feminist trend. In the 1980s–2000s, professional feminist organizations, particularly the Korean Women’s Associations United, focused on gender mainstreaming policies, resulting in significant achievements such as new legislation addressing sexual and domestic violence (S.-K. Kim and Kim 2011). However, this movement struggled to significantly alter the cultural perception of feminism and expand its influence among the broader public (M. J. Kim 2020). Meanwhile, young feminists who connected through college networks forged a new brand of feminism in the 1990s and 2000s, concentrating on everyday gender politics. To drive cultural change, they organized events such as menstrual festivals, published feminist magazines and newspapers, and utilized online platforms to promote feminist identities (Jeong 2015). Despite their efforts, their influence remained primarily within campus-based activism within a limited network of feminists (Jeong 2015).
The most recent wave of feminism, emerging in the mid-2010s, aligns with global digital feminism. Young women, particularly digital natives, became increasingly aware of issues related to misogyny, sexual violence, and crimes against women in Korea. They used digital platforms such as Twitter and women-only communities to disseminate feminist ideas and engage in both online and offline activism against online misogyny and digital sex crimes (Jang 2016; J. S. Kim 2021). Their contributions to raising awareness of gender inequality to the forefront of social discussions have been widely acknowledged, with many scholars attributing this to the popularization of feminism in Korea (B.-M. Kim 2018; J. S. Kim 2021; Seo and Choi 2020). However, they have also encountered challenges, including a lack of connection to or rejection of existing women’s movement organizations, as well as the potential for radicalization akin to trans-exclusionary radical feminism (TERF; B.-M. Kim 2018; M. J. Kim 2020).
With the increasing feminist activism online, antifeminist backlash has become widespread throughout online spaces as well. Such backlash is not entirely new and has existed since the birth of feminism. In Western societies, antifeminist backlash emerged as a response to the successful second-wave feminist movement of the 1970s, taking the form of cultural backlash, masculism, and antifeminist counter movements (Blais and Dupuis-Déri 2022; Faludi 2009; Mansbridge and Shames 2008). Japan, in its pursuit of feminist policies, experienced antifeminist backlash due to state feminism’s increasing influence (Kano 2011). Concurrently, neoliberal and postfeminist discourses have gained dominance, giving rise to antifeminist sentiments among young men influenced by growing conservatism (J. Kim 2023). This political and social environment has spurred the migration of antifeminist backlash to the digital realm, creating a manosphere—a space where digital communities propagate misogynist views and reject inclusive masculinity (Han and Yin 2023). Bratich and Banet-Weiser (2019) describe how, in networked digital communities, some young men who are disillusioned with neoliberal society blame women and feminism for their sexual disappointments, resorting to bashing women. A similar dissemination of antifeminist backlash is seen in East Asian countries, with China demonizing feminists as deviant women and betrayers of the nation (Huang 2023).
In line with global trends, antifeminist discourse in Korea has evolved, influenced by the success of state feminism and the rise of a neoliberal, digitally advanced society. Korea’s mandatory military conscription system for young men has added a unique dimension to the growing antifeminist sentiment. For instance, in 1999, the women’s movement successfully challenged the constitutionality of compensation policies for military service, claiming discrimination against female workers. This led to a surge in antagonism toward feminists, with critics accusing them of demanding rights without fulfilling their duties (Choo 2020). The introduction of gender mainstreaming policies and the establishment of the Ministry of Gender Equality in 2001 further fueled sentiments against state feminism and women’s movements, as they were seen to be imposing reverse discrimination on men (B.-M. Kim 2018). As younger generations of men adopted postfeminist beliefs in Korea’s hyper-competitive, neoliberal society, they began to view women’s rights groups, especially those advocating for political quotas and affirmative action, as promoting female supremacy (G. Jung 2021). In addition, the Korean manosphere, known as Ilbe, has become a breeding ground for misogynistic discussions, openly ridiculing Korean women since the mid-2010s. In response to the rise of online misogyny and digital sex crimes, digital feminist groups emerged as counter-activism groups. Some of these groups adopted controversial tactics, advocating for female supremacy, and employing trolling strategies (Koo 2020). This extremist digital feminism also contributed to justifying antifeminist sentiment further by portraying Korean feminism as a distorted and unsupported version promoting female supremacy (B.-M. Kim 2018).
Antifeminism is a global phenomenon with a unique historical trajectory in Korea. However, existing research has focused predominantly on how antifeminist backlash emerges in response to feminist advancements. Specifically, studies on backlash have emphasized its emergence as a reaction to feminist movements, rather than exploring how individual feminists respond to such backlash (Colpitts 2020; Cullen 2021; Sanders and Jenkins 2022). For example, Cullen (2021) examined resonant frames with which to counter opposition from right-wing populists within the European Union. Colpitts (2020) investigated the impact of antifeminism on Canadian universities’ handling of campus sexual violence, revealing that campus antifeminism affects institutional policy-making processes, resulting in the adoption of depoliticized language in anti-sexual violence policies to avoid criticism from antifeminists. While recent scholarship has explored how women combat online harassment and misogyny through digital technology, these actions often take place within collective online spaces (Ging and Siapera 2019). Thus, the impact of antifeminism in private spheres, particularly how individual feminists respond to antifeminist backlash, has received limited attention in existing research (for the exception, see Blais and Dupuis-Déri 2022).
Everyday Backlash And Quiet Feminism
To address this gap in the literature, we examine how young college women practice feminism in their daily lives amid a growing antifeminist backlash in Korean society. In our research, we use the term everyday backlash to characterize the backlash we observe in the everyday environments of our participants, both online and offline, where they are deeply involved. As young college students, they face antifeminist backlash in multiple settings, including popular online portals and digital communities for college students that they visit daily, as well as in the classroom, university clubs, and social establishments. We show that this phenomenon of everyday backlash is prevalent in online spaces due to the unique digital culture in Korea and reflects widely expressed antifeminist sentiments, both directly and indirectly, within everyday offline contexts. We argue that the young women in our study adopt what we call quiet feminism in response to such everyday backlash.
We define everyday backlash as a common form of antifeminist backlash found on popular online portals and digital communities. We call it everyday backlash due to its ubiquitous presence in digital spaces. Recently, antifeminist views have spread on major Korean portals and digital communities, extending beyond the manosphere. For example, the derogatory term for women, kimchi-nyeo, 3 originating from the manosphere, is now widely used among Korean online users (J. S. Kim 2018). This dissemination is closely linked to widespread Internet and social media usage in Korea, which surpasses other developed nations in Internet, smartphone, and social media use, particularly for discussing political and social issues (Pew Research Center 2022). Furthermore, a small number of major portals, such as Naver, are primary channels for accessing news and expressing opinions through anonymous comments, facilitating the rapid spread of hate speech (M. Y. Choi et al. 2022). 4 Recent studies report increasing gender-based hate speech on Naver, Korea’s largest portal (M. Y. Choi et al. 2022). In a 2021 survey, 71 percent of respondents reported encountering hate speech in Internet portal comments, with women (80.4 percent) and feminists (76.8 percent) as the primary targets (National Human Rights Commission of Korea 2021). These figures reveal the widespread presence of gender-based hate speech in Korean society, particularly targeting feminist women on a daily basis, leading us to label it as everyday backlash.
Everyday backlash extends beyond digital spaces, manifesting in everyday interactions within offline spaces where feminists engage in their daily routines. Widespread online backlash impacts offline settings, where feminists invariably encounter antifeminist sentiments and explicit or implicit attacks during their everyday lives. For instance, the online backlash leading to the abolition of the General Female Student Council in major Korean universities during the late 2010s exemplifies how digital actions result in tangible consequences in offline campus environments (Cheong and Lee 2020). The discourse surrounding this abolition was sparked by the student portal site Everytime, which influenced student opinions on the matter (M. H. Kim 2020). The argument for dismantling the General Female Student Council echoed the widely circulated antifeminist discourses in Korea, contending that women are no longer a minority and that allocating student council fees exclusively to a women’s council constitutes reverse discrimination (Cheong and Lee 2020). Beyond universities, young women attempting to practice feminism report instances of “cultural policing,” such as being silenced by negative reactions from friends during discussions about feminism in their daily lives (T. Kim and Yuk 2022). Our interview participants also recount overt antagonistic attacks when the topic of feminism arises in university classes, club activities, and social gatherings with peers. Thus, in Korea, antifeminist backlash takes the form of ubiquitous everyday backlash, where manosphere discourse spreads to and permeates popular online portals and is recognized, acknowledged, and accepted offline as well.
In this specific social context, young women engage in quiet feminism 5 as a response to everyday backlash. Quiet feminism is an agentic, everyday feminist practice that takes place in sheltered environments when unreceptive social contexts push emerging feminists to maintain a low profile. This manifestation of quiet feminism reflects the complex interplay between one’s feminist identity, agentic mind, and discreet actions in response to an unwelcoming environment for feminism. Those practicing quiet feminism typically identify as feminists, distinguishing themselves from situational feminists, who adopt a feminist identity only in situations where they perceive gender inequality in postfeminist environments (Crossley 2010). In our study, those engaged in quiet feminism maintain a more steadfast and consistent feminist identity, even in the face of antifeminist sentiments, while participating in relatively protected environments.
Although they self-identify as feminists, quiet feminists prefer covert actions in their daily lives, even in digital spaces. They do so because they are acutely aware of the widespread antifeminist backlash in both online and offline environments, prompting them to exercise caution in publicly expressing their feminist identity. Their actions are not solely a matter of individual choice driven by consumerism or individualistic pleasure (see Crossley 2010) but rather an inevitable response to cultural forms of oppression and policing. As a result, quiet feminism typically unfolds in sheltered environments. H.-Y. Kim’s (2022) research also reveals that young Korean feminists actively seek meeting places with like-minded individuals, which serve as shelters for feminists in a hostile environment for feminism. In this sense, quiet feminism is not synonymous with implicit feminism (Giffort 2011). Giffort (2011) argued that volunteer activists in the Girls’ Rock Camp in the United States do not explicitly label their feminist actions as feminist but implicitly implement feminist-driven activities for the empowerment of girls, concerned about how the legitimacy of their actions will appear to parents and funders in a politically postfeminist environment. While implicit feminism highlights such strategic choices of feminist organizations to avoid a feminist label for the legitimacy of their feminist activities, quiet feminism emphasizes its practice in sheltered environments.
Quiet feminism also signifies a continuation of everyday feminist practices. The term everyday feminism originated from third-wave feminism to describe feminists’ political actions to challenge ordinary and habitual forms of sexism and misogyny embedded in their daily lives (Schuster 2017). Hence, quiet feminism falls within the category of everyday feminism, as feminist actions take place within individuals’ daily lives rather than adopting highly organized collective activities. 6 Moreover, we consider this practice of quiet feminism as the process of constructing a feminist identity within the constraints of a given environment, rather than being a form of resistance to political oppression, as seen in everyday forms of resistance (Scott 1989) or quiet politics (M. Jung 2022). Our research participants do not perceive their actions as a component of contentious politics; instead, they view them as a means of quietly studying, absorbing knowledge, epistemology, language, and logic, and solidifying their feminist identity.
Data And Methods
In this study, we utilized 40 qualitative, in-depth interviews as part of a broader project investigating young Koreans’ perceptions of gender equality, feminist identification, and participation in feminist movements. The first author conducted these interviews on Zoom from June through October 2020, in adherence to social distancing rules following the COVID-19 outbreak. 7 We employed snowball sampling to recruit participants through key informants, including women students and university faculty members who introduced other young women interested in feminism. After the initial interviews, we expanded our participant pool through informal networks and participant referrals.
The interview questions covered participants’ (1) personal background, (2) perception of gender equality in Korean society, (3) feminist identification, (4) views on feminism, and (5) positions on various feminist movements (e.g., #MeToo, Megalia, the 2018 Women’s March). Participants were assured of anonymity and confidentiality, and pseudonyms were used. To efficiently recruit women students interested in the topic, the first author leveraged her academic position. During interviews, a sympathetic and politically neutral approach was employed to prevent potential negative reactions. To address the power imbalance between students and a professor, students who were not personally acquainted and less likely to enroll in the author’s course or engage in future interactions were intentionally selected. The author’s affiliation with Korean university campuses was beneficial in understanding the apolitical climate on campus and the reluctance of young students to discuss feminist topics, given the sensitivity and divergent perspectives associated with feminism.
At the time of our interviews, all the participants were college students attending a university in the Seoul metropolitan area. For our analysis, we categorized the participants into three groups based on their feminist self-identification: 22 feminists, nine fence sitters, and nine nonfeminists. 8 The majority of women students identifying as feminists practiced feminism individually through activities such as reading books and discussing gender issues with friends and family. Six students actively participated in women’s movements. We defined fence sitters as individuals who are not confident in identifying themselves as feminists but believe they are progressing toward becoming feminists. Finally, nonfeminists claim no interest in or attachment to feminism. In this study, we extensively drew on the narratives of the 31 students who identified as feminists or as fence sitters in the murky process of becoming feminists.
We conducted abductive analysis, aiming to find the most likely explanations for our observations by making inferences based on the available evidence while considering the context and background knowledge (Tavory and Timmermans 2014). Through a reiterative process of reviewing the literature and comparing the evidence with existing theories, we proposed the most reasonable explanations given the available information. In terms of the analytical steps, we initially reviewed the interview transcripts and conducted open coding to identify recurring themes within the interview questions related to feminist identification, feminist practice, and people’s reactions to the participants’ feminist identity and actions. Second, we identified key consequences and causes, exploring the underlying social forces at play. Our aim was to elucidate the unique ways in which these women identified as feminists, engaged in feminist activities, and experienced antifeminist backlash. Third, after uncovering the mechanisms shaping the everyday feminism of young female college students, we extensively researched the literature on everyday feminism and antifeminist backlash against women’s movements. This search aimed to identify the most plausible explanations for the Korean case, which exhibits distinct characteristics from other cases. In addition, we frequently navigated between the interview data and the broader literature on everyday feminism and backlash to determine the most appropriate explanations that could characterize the Korean context. 9
Quiet Feminism: Navigating Feminism In The Face Of Everyday Backlash
Whereas young women are often portrayed as negating their feminist identities in the postfeminist environment (Crossley 2010), some openly claim their feminist identity and engage in everyday feminist actions on online platforms (Banet-Weiser 2018; Keller 2012; Mendes, Ringrose, and Keller 2019; Pruchniewska 2019). In contrast, most Korean students in our study acknowledged their feminist identity but hesitated to openly disclose it, both online and offline. They practiced everyday feminism covertly within the campus environment. This discreet form of feminism—quiet feminism—stemmed from their apprehension of prevalent antifeminist sentiments and backlash in their everyday surroundings. Despite their “quiet” approach, these young women college students continued to practice everyday feminism by creating safe spaces on their college campuses and constructing their feminist identities in their daily lives.
“I’m a Feminist, But . . .”: Quiet Feminism Among Self-Identified Feminists
Most of the interview participants in our study answered “yes” when asked if they considered themselves feminists, but their responses were often followed by “but” statements. Many mentioned they identified as feminists but did not participate in organized feminist protests or publicly disclose their feminist identity. Some were uncertain about meeting the criteria for being a feminist due to their limited direct involvement or inadequate knowledge of the feminist movement.
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Nevertheless, most participants viewed themselves as feminists because they had undergone an ideological transformation and engaged in minor activities driven by their feminist consciousness. The following interview account illustrates our participants’ understanding of feminism and feminist identification. Jinjoo Yang shared,
I feel like being a feminist is a major part of my identity. Since the beginning of this year, I made a commitment to contribute more by getting involved [in feminist actions] and being mindful of how I present myself to others . . . but they are not like huge actions. I just thought it would be nice to see people around me changing their perceptions [regarding gender], so I’ve been consciously making an effort to talk more about gender issues with my friends.
Jinjoo Yang illustrated her intellectual commitment to feminism by discussing gender-related issues with her friends daily. Many participants expressed the same view that anyone interested in gender equality could be considered a feminist, regardless of their involvement in social movement activism. This perspective aligns with the reasoning of third-wave feminists who prioritize enacting feminist principles in their daily lives, fulfilling the feminist slogan “the personal is political,” over collectively mobilized activism (Schuster 2017). However, despite their willingness to embrace feminist identification, our participants hesitated to publicly express their feminist identities. For example, Ahyoung Kim stated,
I personally think that anyone who is interested in gender issues and believes in gender equality is a feminist, but in our society, because the term “feminism” is used differently, like sarcastically, and there is some kind of social pressure [against feminism], I find it difficult to introduce myself as a feminist in public settings.
Like Ahyoung, most of our participants avoid openly disclosing their feminist identity despite their self-identification. We consider this choice of being “quiet” about their authentic identity to be vastly different from situational feminism (Crossley 2010). According to Crossley (2010), some young women redefine feminism based on their needs and situations, switching to feminist values only when they encounter apparent sexist situations but generally believing they can navigate life without practicing feminism. Rather than being influenced by such postfeminist beliefs, our participants’ intent for practicing “quiet” feminism is heavily related to the hostile environment against feminism that they face, which we discuss further in the following section. Quiet feminism also differs from implicit feminism (Giffort 2011). Whereas implicit feminism refers to feminist activists’ strategic decision to avoid a feminist label to attract a broader audience and increase the legitimacy of their feminist actions, “quiet” feminists are more concerned about overt antifeminist sentiments prevalent in Korea—everyday backlash.
Everyday Backlash and Quiet Feminism in Sheltered Environments
Our participants’ avoidance of public disclosure of their feminist identity is reflected in the ways in which they stayed away from feminist actions in online spaces and shifted their practice of feminism to private offline settings, particularly in small circles of friends established as safe havens in their college campuses. In other words, the students created safe spaces for themselves to freely explore, discuss, and practice feminism. To our surprise, most participants did not choose digital sites or online communities as such safe havens. As discussed earlier, many students preferred to talking to their close friends about various gender issues in private conversations, rather than actively participating in feminist actions open to the public. Moreover, some students exerted deliberate effort to join a feminist study group or a club that aligned with their feminist identity. Ari Min shared,
Depending on where I am, I act differently when it comes to expressing my views on feminism. In my [social studies] club, “New Ideas,” I freely talk about it, but I keep my mouth shut in my soccer club because it’s not welcome there. . . . I stay quiet around my [public administration] department friends, but I’m quite vocal at “New Ideas” because the people there share a similar mindset, and I feel understood. . . . In my soccer club, most members are men, and even women there aren’t interested in feminism. So, if I bring up feminism there, I might be seen as an annoying person, so I usually stayed quiet and I eventually stopped going there.
Ari mentioned that she gradually moved away from a campus soccer club to her social studies club because she was more comfortable in the latter and it enlightened her on various gender issues. Similarly, other students voluntarily organized self-study groups to read books and discuss feminism with their close friends and joined university clubs where many female students could feel safe, strengthen their knowledge, and gain moral support. Hayoon Choi said,
When several girls are sitting around in my club room, we casually talk about feminism. In the new debate club that I joined recently, I also realized that there were quite a few feminists. So, whenever we start a conversation, our topics naturally switch to that [gender-related] direction.
Such collective spaces and activities on campus serve as hubs and shelters for students to conceal themselves from the harsh environment against feminism to amass power and move forward. These narratives support what T. Kim and Yuk (2022) find in their research on young feminists’ experiences living in a conservative region in Korea. Like our participants, the informants in their study eagerly looked for gatherings of like-minded feminists as their “survival” strategy in the antagonistic environment against feminism.
Our participants’ shift to private settings, particularly within small circles of friends established as safe havens in their college campus, was influenced primarily by two aspects of everyday backlash. First, our data suggest that young college students’ quiet feminism is a response to the ubiquity of everyday backlash in online spaces in Korea. Many students refrained from engaging in any feminist activities online due to the noticeable antifeminist backlash prevalent on online platforms, portal sites, and communities. The following statement from Sorim Yoo illustrates the prevalence of antifeminist backlash in online spaces, including popular sites for college students.
Seeing comments responding to gender-related posts on social media proves my point [of the widespread negative perception of feminism]. In my school’s digital community, like Everytime, so many misogynistic comments have been posted. A couple of years ago, when a female celebrity supported a campaign called “Girls Can Do Anything,” I remember people on Everytime ridiculed her a lot. It is like when we talk about women’s empowerment, people just can’t take it. Personally, when I was sharing lots of posts about the Nth Room case on social media,
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saying anyone who watches those videos is an accomplice, I found that some of my male friends unfollowed me, because I shared those posts online.
Yehyun Chun’s case also suggests the widespread presence of antifeminist reactions in online platforms:
I saw many cases where people just have an allergic reaction to feminism. Even on YouTube channels, when the word “feminism” is mentioned in a video, some people comment, “I am disappointed in you.” When I compare male-dominant YouTube channels with female-dominant ones, I definitely see more hate speeches against feminism in the male-dominant channels.
Similarly, Najin Hwang reported a significant amount of cursing directed at feminists in online spaces, with misogynistic comments appearing on her school website as well as on Naver, one of the largest portal sites in Korea. Due to the pervasive infiltration of antifeminist discourses into major portal sites and websites catering to college students, many students were cautious about expressing their feminist views in online spaces. Previous research and survey data also support our findings, indicating that gender-based hate speech has continued to increase in Naver (M. Y. Choi et al. 2022) and that the most targeted groups for online hate speech are women and feminists (K.-H. Kim, Cho, and Bae 2020). Research also shows that gender-based hate speech targeting feminism and affirmative action for women was prevalent in Everytime, the online platform for college students (Y.-S. Choi 2019). A sense of resentment toward perceived unfairness based on the ideologies of meritocracy and competition also plays a significant role in fueling gender-based hate speech in Everytime (Lee, Park, and Lee 2021).
When asked about their online feminist activities, most participants did not mention their participation as a feminist in any digital activism. Only two students specifically mentioned their feminist actions online, but even those activities occurred in “safe” settings, such as joining a digital feminist community or reporting misogynist comments anonymously on Naver. Moreover, two other students who used to fervently fight against misogyny online had stopped engaging in the digital battle, because they felt emotionally depleted and drained from the online verbal attacks by the opponents of feminism. Hyunji Song shared,
I used to be very upset at every single [misogynist] post, but now I feel so tired. Whenever some serious incidents [threatening women’s rights] happened, I was so angry, together with my friends. I was like, “This is nonsense!” I used to sign online petitions and post my opinions on Facebook and Instagram. But now, I feel quite tired. So, these days, when I see those [misogynistic] postings online, I think, “Okay, it is happening again. They are doing this again . . .” That sort of helpless feeling, or I feel too tired to do anything.
Hyunji Song felt a sense of anger and frustration on misogynistic postings in online space. Similarly, Suhjoo Ji realized that her anger toward misogyny provided only short-term motivation for her feminist actions, as it quickly drained her emotionally. Suhjoo also highlighted that studying feminism on her campus helped her better understand the reality of gender inequality, as opposed to simply expressing her anger online. These accounts may serve as indicators of why most of our participants prioritize their feminist practice in private offline settings rather than in online spaces, in addition to their fear of becoming targets for digital harassment.
In addition, young students’ quiet feminism was motivated by the widely expressed antifeminist sentiments encountered directly and indirectly in their daily interactions. The students explained how they frequently witnessed male students’ hostile reactions to feminism in general, and some directly experienced antifeminist backlash in their interactions with other students on campus. Hyunji Song mentioned that one male student in her class became very antagonistic toward her when she expressed her interest in feminism during a classroom discussion. She also felt silenced when the male editors of her school magazine refused to cover a gender topic she suggested for an upcoming issue due to concerns about possible criticisms from the readers. Similarly, Kyujin Seo encountered blatant hatred toward feminism from her friends in the department:
In my department, we had several antifeminism incidents. Some [of the] students openly commented about [the] other [female] students’ appearance, and one senior student made sexual remarks toward junior [female] students during the department retreat. After that, a feminism club was created within the department. Then, there was huge backlash about the club coming from a lot of the students, including the student representative of the department, and [the] students were talking [about us] behind our back.
As demonstrated above, young women on campus seldom encountered positive responses to their feminist beliefs, particularly in their interactions with male peers. Everyday backlash is deeply ingrained in the social interactions that take place within classrooms, department communal spaces, social gatherings, and nearby restaurants where these students engage in their daily routines. Blais and Dupuis-Déri’s (2022) research on individual feminists’ experiences of antifeminist attacks in their private social circles also underscores the emotional responses of anger, humiliation, and fear that feminists experience when confronted with everyday antifeminist behaviors. Similarly, our interview participants recounted heightened forms of antifeminist attacks and the subsequent fear they felt due to the ubiquitous presence of such behavior in both online and offline physical spaces. Consequently, many of the students avoided participating in any feminist actions in online spaces and redirected their practice of feminism to private offline settings, particularly within small circles of friends established as safe havens in their college campus, giving rise to quiet feminism.
Quiet Feminism: Everyday Feminism as the Process of Identity Construction
What, then, is the sociopolitical significance of quiet feminism? Based on our findings, we contend that the practice of quiet feminism represents a facet of everyday feminism that functions as a means of fortifying one’s feminist identity, enabling individuals to feel empowered, enlightened, and rejuvenated, thus allowing them to better shield themselves against everyday backlash. When queried about their feminist activities, many students mentioned active engagement in seeking information about gender inequality, discussing feminist topics, and contributing to feminist discourse on campus. These young women students regarded “doing feminism” as no different from conversing about feminism with friends during meals or dispelling misconceptions about feminism held by their friends and family. For many students, such routine activities on campus resulted in fulfilling and transformative personal growth in terms of comprehending current gender issues and strengthening their unwavering commitment to gender equality.
Their notable everyday practices included reading feminist books, taking gender-related classes, and integrating their thoughts into school assignments. A group of students in New Zealand, as reported by Dyer and Hurd (2018), had similar experiences. They found that enrolling in a gender course made them more confident and mature, as the class exposed them to the pervasive nature of gender inequality and its structural barriers. In our sample, students often described their practical engagement with everyday feminism as “studying feminism.” For many, “doing feminism” involved reading books about feminism and gender, which provided a fresh perspective on addressing social issues and fostering enlightenment. Numerous students expressed how their study and reading of feminism deepened their comprehension of gender equality and equipped them to navigate the era of backlash. Suhjoo Ji shared,
During the second semester of my freshman year, the senior students in my club suddenly added various social science books to our club reading list. In the beginning, I was like, “what?” but I read those books anyway, because I liked the people there. In retrospect, studying those books really helped me see the underlying reasons why people were so upset [about certain gender issues], which I used to frown upon. That time, I realized that if I just stay upset about what’s going on [and do nothing], I can’t really see what the real problem is. Maybe keeping calm and studying society are what I need to understand this complex society.
Learning the feminist language also heightened the students’ awareness of the unequal systems they encountered, leading them to recognize that unjust systems and structures, rather than individuals, were responsible for gender inequality. In addition to educating themselves about feminism, participants endeavored to apply their feminist knowledge to their work. They integrated their feminist perspective into school magazines and course assignments, aiming to bring about small-scale changes among their classmates, family members, and friends. For instance, Kyujin Seo mentioned her efforts as a feminist in her various roles, including school assignments and adding feminist narratives to the media content she handled in her job.
Our participants’ efforts in practicing feminism, such as joining university clubs, studying feminist literature, and engaging with feminist content in their school assignments and other projects, bear some resemblance to the concept of everyday feminism discussed by Schuster (2017). In a study of contemporary feminists in New Zealand, Schuster (2017) showed that women incorporated their feminist perspectives into their relationships with their partners, friends, children, and extended families by engaging in conversations about gender and sexuality, sharing ideas, and discussing them. While Schuster’s work emphasized the political nature of everyday feminism, our findings highlight everyday feminism as the process through which emerging feminists construct their feminist identity in an environment hostile toward feminism. We view quiet feminism as a subtype of everyday feminism that resembles the collective identity construction process for young feminists situated in an unsupportive campus climate for feminism (Reger 2008). As noted by Reger (2008), college students attending a conservative university often perceive their feminist gathering as havens for like-minded individuals. More precisely, for young students, their practice of everyday feminism involves developing and strengthening their feminist identities, as well as gaining a comprehensive understanding of knowledge—epistemological and ontological languages—and laying the groundwork before progressing to more overt forms of actions. In this regard, we consider the quiet feminism, as observed in our study, distinct from forms of resistance against political oppression, as exemplified in Scott’s (1989) notion of everyday forms of resistance or M. Jung’s (2022) concept of quiet politics. Instead of engaging in contentious politics, these young feminists perceive feminism as an integral part of their identity construction. The force of the backlash caused young women to conserve their energy in order to fortify their identity before engaging in direct political actions. They actively study it and incorporate it into their daily lives for self-enlightenment and mutual empowerment.
Conclusion
This study examines the practice of everyday feminism among young women in contemporary Korea during an era of backlash. Our interviews with 40 Korean female college students show that most of the participants consider themselves to be feminists and tend to participate in the practice of offline feminism on campus by doing small things in their daily lives. Interestingly, this covert approach to everyday feminism contrasts with the active participation observed in digital feminism (Keller 2012; Mendes, Ringrose, and Keller 2019; Pruchniewska 2019). To unravel this empirical puzzle, we draw a connection between everyday backlash and the students’ offline everyday feminism, or quiet feminism.
Our participants frequently encounter antifeminist backlash in the online and offline contexts of their daily lives. They avoid openly revealing their feminist identity as a response to this everyday backlash and create safe spaces within their college campuses, where they can access liberal and progressive knowledge while refraining from online feminist activities. Furthermore, we assert that the practice of everyday offline feminism among female college students serves to develop, solidify, and strengthen their feminist self-identity, preparing them for further steps in bringing about social change.
Given the persistent scrutiny, questioning, and challenges they face due to everyday backlash, these young women engage in daily discussions about feminism and seek a deeper understanding of the movement through such activities as reading books, taking classes, and participating in club activities. These endeavors empower them, enhance their emotional resilience, and lead to feelings of empowerment and enlightenment.
Our research advances scholarship on the contemporary practice of everyday feminism and its relation to backlash. It reintroduces the importance of offline everyday feminism to scholarly discussions that have focused predominantly on young women’s online feminist practices (Mendes, Ringrose, and Keller 2019; Pruchniewska 2019; Schuster 2017). It underscores that offline gatherings of like-minded individuals, especially within college campuses, can serve as vital incubators for emerging feminists. Crossley’s (2017) work in the United States has demonstrated that gender studies programs, women’s centers, and feminist student organizations acted as supportive environments for feminist activism, particularly during anti-sexual violence campaigns in the mid- to late 2010s. Our analysis reveals that debate clubs and feminism study groups in Korean college campuses, which have recently regained popularity, function as safe havens where feminist students can engage in everyday feminism, shielded from the pervasive backlash.
In addition, our study directs researchers to pay close attention to the impact of everyday backlash on individuals’ practice of feminism. Some of the students in our study practiced offline feminism instead of digital feminism, after experiencing burnout and emotional exhaustion from antifeminist backlash online. From the mid- to the late 2010s, young Korean women, particularly digital feminists, were active in practicing online feminism to counteract the growing online misogyny as well as gender-based crimes that target women, as demonstrated by the formation of Megalia, Womad, and the 2018 Women’s March. 12 However, most of our interview participants did not engage in online feminism in 2020, which they attributed to the antifeminist sentiments prevalent in online spaces. The difference between the mid-2010s and early 2020s in terms of antifeminist backlash may be that backlash has evolved from online misogyny that circulated predominantly in a male-centered manosphere to everyday backlash that is present in large-scale online portals and digital communities as well as social interactions in offline settings. The predominant antifeminist backlash observed in online communities may incur costs, as young women, in response to the backlash, may prioritize reinforcing their identities over participating in outward political activities.
Future research would also benefit from investigating whether this everyday backlash is a local phenomenon or a global trend. We contend that everyday backlash may indeed be a global phenomenon. Although the well-established online landscape within Korean society has created a conducive environment for the rapid dissemination of antifeminist sentiments in Korea, recent scholarship also shows that social media has facilitated antifeminist men’s surveillance of feminist activities and popular misogyny online around the globe (Banet-Weiser 2018). This has resulted in the growing digital abuse, harassment, and trolling of feminists worldwide (Megarry 2018). Moreover, scholars have observed that content from the manosphere can easily penetrate other digital spaces, mixing with content from different men-dominant digital communities, by reframing misogynistic ideology to a common language (Nagle 2017).
We also consider the impact of quiet feminism on Korean feminist politics. Following the peak of popular feminism, the feminist movement in Korea appears to have entered a period of transition or abeyance. The highly organized collective feminist activities that thrived in the mid- to late 2010s have become less prominent, and individual feminists are adopting a low-key approach, engaging in quiet feminism. Recent scholarship, including studies by T. Kim and Yuk (2022) and Oh (2022), notes that internal conflicts and controversies within the feminist movement have left young women uncertain about their feminist identities and the future goals of feminism. In this context, quiet feminism may signify a state of abeyance for the Korean feminist movement. Drawing on Taylor’s (1989) concept of abeyance, we propose that the movement has the potential to rebound, as abeyance structures foster collective identity and sustain movement objectives. Crossley (2017) similarly observed “everyday abeyance structures” in U.S. colleges, which maintained the feminist movement during the down times of the movements through individuals who integrate feminist principles into their daily lives, albeit with no physical collective mobilization. Similar to this, the increasing interests of young Korean women in feminism and gender issues, despite the escalating backlash against feminism (J. S. Kim 2021; Oh 2022), suggest that there may be a significant pool of sympathizers and potential recruits that can join the future feminist movement in Korea.
One limitation of our research lies in our sample being exclusively drawn from university women in Seoul, thus missing out on other feminists in their 20s residing outside Seoul and those without or beyond college education. For instance, T. Kim and Yuk’s (2022) study focusing on young feminists, many of whom are non-college students living in local Korean provinces, reveals their continuous engagement in digital feminist communities, primarily due to a lack of alternative spaces to connect with like-minded feminists. Nevertheless, their research also reports women’s experiences of widespread antifeminist attacks in their daily lives, leading them to maintain a low profile, similar to our participants. This raises further questions about contemporary Korean feminism: Will young feminists return to more overtly organized and mobilized collective actions, either online or offline? And how will this period of abeyance conclude, whether through the decline or rejuvenation of feminism in Korea? Future research could investigate whether quiet feminism might temporarily constitute a new form of feminism in Korea or persist as one of the diverse feminist expressions observed worldwide.
Footnotes
Authors’ note:
We thank the anonymous reviewers for their helpful feedback. This work was supported by the Ministry of Education of the Republic of Korea and the National Research Foundation of Korea (NRF-2020S1A5A8046428) and Kyung Hee University (20220709).
Author Contributions
Both authors contributed equally to this work.
Notes
Gowoon Jung is an assistant professor of sociology at Kyung Hee University, Seoul, Korea. Her main research focuses on gender/sexuality, family, religion, migration, and globalization. She has published articles in Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, Sociological Inquiry, International Sociology, Journal of Homosexuality, Critical Sociology, Research in Social Stratification and Mobility, Social Compass, and others.
Minyoung Moon is a lecturer in sociology at Clemson University. She specializes in contemporary feminism, women’s movements, gender politics, and gender-based violence. Her work has been published in various sociological journals, including Sociological Perspectives, Sociology Compass, Sociological Focus, and Mobilization.
