Abstract
In this book, Alison Phipps, Professor of Gender Studies, University of Sussex, presents, from the outset, a text that unpacks some of the dominant discourses linked to mainstream feminism. Reflecting upon the title, Phipps states that the Me in the title is linked to her positionality; as a White feminist writing about White feminism. This reflexive turn is particularly insightful especially when it is considered alongside the statement that ‘often the message is not “Me, Too” but “Me, Not You”’ (p. 3). Phipps goes on to exemplify this point in her discussions about the concepts of privilege, specifically, how ‘Privileged white women also sacrifice more marginalised people to achieve our aims, or even define them as enemies when they get in our way’ (p. 3). It is this assertion that contextualises the book’s central narrative as Phipps discusses the way that key issues around the quest to fight sexual violence are responded to and how this links to mainstream feminism.
The book is premised on the notion that ‘political whiteness’ can impede radical action. This is illustrated through Phipps’ analytical lens, which highlights how this is enacted in the mainstream feminist arena. The chapters discuss gender in a right-moving world, Political Whiteness, The outrage economy, White feminism as war machine and Feminists and the far right. Each speaks to and challenges the ways in which the quest to end sexual violence is operationalised. The book touches upon wide-ranging issues, such as corporate, institutional, media, reactionary and policy feminism, misogynoir, racism, sexism, anti-sex work and trans-exclusionary and feminism which link to the central narrative.
In centring the role of mainstream feminism Phipps states that the analysis presented mostly refers to ‘Anglo-American public feminism’, a feminism that is ‘white and privileged’; grounded in the ‘concept of political whiteness’. However, it is made clear that this is not an attempt to ‘erase the fundamental contributions of feminists of colour’ (p. 5). Instead, Phipps contextualises her analysis of mainstream feminism through the intersectional lens ‘developed by Kimberlé Crenshaw and other Black feminist scholars’. I believe that it is important to adopt this strategy as it enables one to see how ‘race, class and gender’ intersect and how this plays out in what Phipps refers to as the ‘associated oppressions of racism, classism and sexism’ (p. 7).
Phipps’ assertion that the book does not need to be read by Black feminists intrigued me. As I read on, I tended to agree with the statement but I do think that this book is worth reading by a wider audience for Phipps’ analysis of violence and the fight against sexual violence, which she discusses within the frameworks of heteropatriarchy, colonialism and racial capitalism. It is the domination of women, achieved through either the threat of, or actual sexual violence, by men, that sets the tone for the book.
Furthermore, in speaking to the concept of racial capitalism Phipps draws upon the work of Hartman (1997) on coerced and forced reproduction. The latter is explicitly linked to the raping of enslaved Black women for reproduction purposes. This was a harsh truth to behold but its coverage serves to both highlight and reinforce the sheer inhumanity of the slave trade and the ensuing assault on Black women’s bodies. It is this inhumanity that enabled, what Reni Eddo-Lodge (2018) describes as the industrialisation of Black women’s reproductive systems which resulted in ‘limitless labour at no extra cost’ because ‘Children born into slavery were the default property of the slave owners’ (p. 4). This practice is inextricably linked to historical contexts characterised by colonialist, segregationist and enslavement agenda, and the ways in which Black women are positioned.
It was troubling to see these issues discussed; I was not expecting them, but their exclusion would have served to further hide the harsh reality that produced Black women’s positioning in society. Consequently, the analysis of mainstream feminism also includes examples of how this type of feminism may silence marginalised voices and issues.
In Chapter 2, ‘Me, not you’, Phipps returns to ‘Me Too’ as developed by Tarana Burke in 2016. The analysis highlights how White bourgeois women co-opt the resistance and ideas of women of colour. Phipps also discusses the concept of ‘Speaking out’ and its centrality to ‘feminist politics from Sojourner Truth’s speech to the 1851 Akron Women’s Rights Convention, to the testimonial activism of Black women in the US Civil Rights movement, to the phrase ‘the personal is political’ (p. 36). This is an important overview as is reference to Audre Lorde’s work and the idea that ‘putting our trauma “out there” is a way to escape being consumed by it “in here”’. In linking these concepts to sexual violence, Phipps suggests that for survivors this approach can act as a mechanism to stop the blaming of self, as an opportunity to ‘legitimise feelings of violence’, allowing control and subjectivity to be reclaimed. While I agree with Phipps’ assertions, I do wonder if this is case for all survivors of sexual violence; there may be women who have chosen not to vocalise their experience and who have instead remained silent and consider that this allows them control and the reclaiming of subjectivity.
Nevertheless, in framing the arguments presented it is made clear how the concept ‘“Feminism” is for white women’ (p. 37) has become a dominant discourse and how it can directly affect women in marginalised groups. This is evident in the discussion of carceral and colonial feminism in Chapter 3, ‘Political whiteness’, and in Chapter 4, which engages the reader in a consideration of the role of ‘the outrage economy’ and its use by the political right. In framing the arguments Phipps highlights the shifts in narratives and how the ‘contemporary right makes excellent use of outrage’ (p. 84) manipulating it to build brand and gain attention.
In Chapter 5, ‘White feminism as war machine’, the reader is presented with an analysis of Game of Thrones and the remarkable work of Ava DuVernay in her telling of the Exonerated Five’s case in the Netflix series When They See Us. This helps the reader to see some of the direct impact that mainstream feminism can have on some groups in society. Chapter 6, ‘Feminists and the far right’, however, analyses how White feminism can shift in such a way that it further marginalises some groups in society. Phipps includes an analysis of anti-sex work and trans-exclusionary feminism and illustrates how this can be enacted in marginalising ways in the public arena.
Phipps’ concluding chapter starts by stating categorically, in response to reactionary feminism, that the task for White feminists is ‘is not to disavow reactionary perspectives but, to examine how our feminism has produced and enables them and (most importantly) work towards doing our feminism differently’ in order to not erase or ignore ‘the impact of political whiteness in the mainstream’ (p. 160). While Phipps does not provide concrete answers to questions of how to end sexual violence there is an acknowledgement that ‘we cannot end violence by doing violence’ (p. 168). This is not a weakness per se but I was rather hoping for some tangible answers. However, to assist with this, and to end the book, Phipps, inspired by Sarah Ahmed’s Living a Feminist Life, provides, ‘for fellow white feminist readers and our white peers’, six questions that can be utilised as a method of self-inquiry in relation to ‘doing direct action, legal advocacy, policy development, peer support or other “everyday” forms of politics and disruption’ (p. 168). This is a helpful set of questions which some readers may find useful.
In summation, I thoroughly enjoyed this book and would highly recommend it. I believe it makes an important contribution to feminist debates around violence and sexual violence. I have developed a deeper understanding of the book’s central narrative, the ‘trouble with mainstream feminism’, that Phipps describes in a way that I was not expecting. A strength of the book is that it draws upon a diverse range of feminist scholars’ work to support the main arguments.
I acknowledge that this review largely makes reference to the issues faced by women of colour discussed in the book; these discussions were difficult to ignore. Phipps provides a narrative that renders visible some of the struggles that are faced by women of colour and explains how, in some instances, these are compounded by mainstream feminist ideologies.
This is an accessible text and although it is not an academic book per se I do feel it would be of interest to both academics and students alike. There are comprehensive notes and references for each chapter which enable further research and reading. This is a book that I will be adding to my teaching bookshelf.