The End of Selective Feminism

Group conformity is an extremely powerful thing. No one wants to deviate from the norm, especially at the risk of potential isolation from peers, family, or friends. This fear is deterring to the point that people often become capable of things they would never normally imagine themselves doing.

But, of course, would change ever be possible if everyone refused to deviate in the face of injustice? In the past decade, the world has seen increased attention and support surrounding social movements. Movements advocating for and empowering victims of sexual assault—which would’ve seemed unheard of even a few years ago—showcase the extent to which people have become open about discussing serious issues and bringing light to inequality in both small and large-scale platforms. Unfortunately, despite the obvious positive changes, the influence of the group remains an extraordinarily powerful force, and it severely hinders the progression towards a safe and equal society. Selective feminism is the act of supporting feminism only when it is favourable for an individual. My first personal experience encountering this peculiar phenomenon happened when someone in a mutual friend group of mine had committed multiple sexual assaults against some of the girls in the group. Much to my disbelief, rather than being subject to public condemnation, these assaults became a series of unspoken events, an elephant in the room that no one wanted to acknowledge. Some even ended up turning against each other, using classic statements of victim belittling: “Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten

so drunk” and, “Well, you sounded into it.” These poisonous phrases they once themselves criticized now seemed to flow through their lips like honey. This act of betrayal against their words and the innocent girls who fell victims to an assailant is what caused me to drastically reevaluate what it even meant to be a feminist. How can those who are outspoken about macro-level social issues and women’s rights also be the first ones to attack the victims and stand by the perpetuator? It made me question how quick we are to ignore the wrongdoings of those we associate with and the degree of power that a group has over one’s ability to remain true to their morals. Sure, it’s great that we can have progressive conversations and hold powerful beliefs, but what happens when someone we know behaves in a way that fundamentally contradicts them? When we read about a convicted rapist, we openly express our disgust in the person who committed such a heinous act; we show our remorse and empathize with the powerlessness of victims, taking a clear stance as to which side we support. So, why is it that people find themselves remaining silent in response to hearing about their friend taking advantage of a drunk girl from the bar? How do some openly identify as feminists, but

are surprisingly okay with remaining friends with a rapist? How can people support women’s rights and simultaneously choose not to express support for women of colour? Clearly, it is that persistent fear of isolation that drives people to conform to the popular opinion and to remain silent. The continuous advocacy of largescale social inequalities and choice to actively ignore the ones encountered at a personal level is selective feminism at its prime state. How do we begin to battle the hypocrisy that is selective feminism? If one thing is certain, it is that we must hold people accountable, irrespective of their relationship to us. Putting the responsibility into the hands of the individual puts pressure on them to make stronger moral decisions while motivating them to change their behaviours. But hypocrisy prevention doesn’t stop at policing each other; we must also be aware of how we may or may not be contributing to its existence. Preventing and acknowledging selective feminism in ourselves starts with critically evaluating our everyday thoughts and behaviours, and putting forth an effort to ensure that they align impeccably with our held moral beliefs.