Women are the ultimate political commodity. This is a proposition I’ve been quietly interrogating recently and one that, the more I consider, the more utterly convinced I am of its truth.
Every political party, every organisation, needs women in its ranks. Having a woman at the helm is a big win. A competent woman, even better. Have 50 per cent women in the ranks and you’re golden.
Forgive me for sounding somewhat cranky, angry even, but the past several years of Australia’s political theatre have convinced me that in many ways, women are just as much a commodity in 2022 as we were in generations past.
The past week and a bit? Honestly, I despair.
It’s never been more obvious to me that politically, and to a certain degree in corporate life, there is the right kind of woman and the wrong kind of woman. And the arbiter of this is not the patriarchy, not men in high places, but women. It’s women who call these kinds of shots.
In the past week, it has been women dismissing the experiences of other women, women protesting loudly about using terms such as “mean girl” rather than examining the behaviour behind it, saying it’s worse to call someone a mean girl than it is to be one; deciding who is the right kind of woman and who is the wrong kind. Who’s in the club, and who’s out.
Sift through the dust of the past few months and this is what you’ll find. Look more broadly and it’s glaring.
The right kind of woman complies. The wrong kind of woman speaks up. The right kind of woman toes the party line, sings from the feminist songbook. The wrong kind of woman pushes boundaries, challenges group think. The right kind of woman wears pink on a Wednesday and doesn’t rock the boat. The wrong kind of woman wears what she wants and openly invites robust discussion. The right kind of woman speaks when she’s given permission. The wrong doesn’t need permission, speaks fearlessly. Speaks truth.
It’s not just the tragedy of Labor Senator Kimberley Kitching’s death, and the subsequent revelations about how appallingly she was ostracised, bullied and marginalised by senior women in her own party.
It’s not just the disgusting way that Victorian MP Kaushaliya Vaghela was pilloried by her own party after daring to challenge the toxic rot in the Andrews government. Daniel Andrews refused to even say her name in rebutting the allegations but, pathetically, surrounded himself with a coterie of female MPs – the perfect accessory for such a crisis.
For all the finger pointing that gets levelled at men, for all the conversation about men being a barrier to the advancement of women, the cold hard truth of the matter is that nobody takes down a woman like another woman. It’s women who hold each other to standards that are unreachable.
Nobody knows how to undermine, undercut, denigrate and otherwise pull down a woman, like another woman.
Women don’t leave bruises. The psychological nature of how women attack other women is unique. If you’ve ever been on the receiving end, you’ll know this to be true.
Oh the most bitter of ironies, that the modern iteration of the sisterhood has, in fact, created a new mastery of women at the hands of other women. Instead of having to do things a man’s way, a woman must live her life according to the new rule book lest she be labelled a gender traitor. Once, feminism was about fiercely defending a woman’s right to live the life of her choosing. Now, it’s about blame, not self-determination. Victimhood not empowerment. Labels, not substance.
It’s about applying boilerplate templates to all women in an attempt to create unity, or some kind of movement, but in reality, it erases individuality and nuance. It’s about mandating what the right kind of woman is according to the rules of the club.
It is cowardly for Opposition Leader Anthony Albanese to refuse to interrogate the claims that Kitching was bullied and ostracised by her colleagues. Were any other workplace in Australia to ignore these claims, it would be unthinkable. It is cowardly because he is the leader and that isn’t leadership. What’s more cowardly is the silence from the ranks of ALP women. The standard you walk past, etc.
Here’s the truth. The wrong kind of woman is on both sides of the political fence. The wrong kind of woman is all of us. It’s me on any given day. It’s you. Your sister, daughter, or mother. It’s whoever the club decides doesn’t get a vote.
I’ve decided that the wrong kind of woman is simply the woman who won’t back down. Who refuses to bend or break. Who knows who she is, and isn’t afraid to walk alone if she needs to. Who will find her kin, eventually.
She’s the kind of woman who isn’t afraid to let the world feel the weight of who she is, and deal with it. She isn’t afraid of different views and doesn’t need compliant agreement to be a faithful friend and a fierce advocate.
The wrong kind of woman, this kind, is the one I strive to be.
Gemma Tognini is executive director of GT Communications.
Settler-colonial ethos is our least worthy export
Like other Australians confronted with daft academic ideas, I blamed the US or France and ignored my own country’s contribution. It was easy, but unfair.
What have our universities become?
A lurch towards activism and a focus on funding have desecrated our universities. They should once again become safe spaces – for the getting of wisdom.