Abstract
Alison Phipps’s book faces head-on some of the most prevalent and problematic issues in popular discourse at present: sexual violence, intersectionality, privilege and allyship. Following 2017’s #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, ‘feminism’ has been more popular than ever, becoming a social and academic buzzword. Phipps argues the mainstream feminism being discussed and praised for emancipating millions of women is one that centres the cis, White woman’s experience at the cost of women of colour, trans women, queer women and more. Phipps dedicates the book to Black feminists and writes in her introduction that feminists of colour may not find anything new in this book but that the aim is to inform White feminists of the dangers that are present with a feminism that lacks an intersectional perspective.
Through her exploration of the current global political trend towards right-wing, authoritarian governments Phipps explores how this capitalist patriarchy is being used to silence minority women and to focus on a western feminism and a dominance of White, cis women. She also discusses the flaws of carceral feminism, a feminism that trusts in the use of criminal justice and punishment systems to protect women and bring about social change. Mikki Kendall (2020) writes that a ‘one-size-fits-all approach to feminism is damaging’ (p. 3) and throughout this book Phipps is able to highlight with real-world examples how true this statement is. She explores examples that include the exclusion of sex workers through ‘well meaning’ bill proposals; trans women and misjudged conflations with threats of male violence; and the rejection of respectability politics on Slut Walks that do not take in to account western society’s hyper sexualisation of Black women. Through these discussions, the dangers, limitations and fundamental flaws of mainstream feminism can be clearly seen.
This book will not be a comfortable read for many White feminists who choose to read it. However, that is all the more reason why they should, as being confronted with different ways of thinking about and practising our feminism is an opportunity to grow and develop that feminism.
One key example of the placing of this uncomfortable lens is when Phipps discusses the much celebrated #MeToo movement and 2017’s Women’s Marches. She discusses the performativity of outrage, arguing that prevalent within current-day White feminism is a propensity to speak of the outrage felt on social issues, be it in person or, most often, through social media. Phipps builds on Sarah Banet-Weiser’s (2018) theory of popular feminism, that is a feminism based on the high visibility of feminism rhetoric, merchandise and iconography but lacking the call for collective action towards greater equality. The book explores the drivers behind the #MeToo movement and Women’s Marches which took place the day after the inauguration of President Donald Trump. Phipps discusses the inherent White privilege that pervaded both movements, for example the co-opting of Tarana Burke’s MeToo programme which became a rallying call for largely White women to voice their experiences of sexual assault and rape. When discussing the Women’s March, Phipps argues that the march involved women of colour almost as an afterthought and that as 53% of White women voted for Trump in 2016, it can be seen as a perfect example of White women’s performative rage, popular feminism and complicit tendencies when it comes to aligning with the patriarchal power that comes with being white in a western society.
At the time of writing this review, the Black Lives Matter movement is leading protests across the world with #blacklivesmatter flooding our social media timelines; and it is also Pride month. This is a pressing and critical moment to start practising a more intersectional feminism. Towards the end of the book Phipps speaks of a future world in which ‘there would not be powerful groups dominating more marginalised ones through violence’ (p. 165), she writes that this world will not be achieved in her lifetime or in the lifetime of the readers. This feels almost defeatist: it is up to White women to do the work, to do the reading and the research and to become legitimate, effective allies to our sisters of colour, our trans sisters and our queer sisters.
Phipps uses this book as a call to White women who are ‘interested in doing their feminism differently’ (p. 11), and I echo that call. For the White women who wish to understand more about how their privilege endangers and oppresses our sisters of colour – read this book. Phipps does not claim to have all the answers but with this book she is giving White women a place from which to start.