We need to get better at having feminist arguments. Here's how.
Disagreements can help us build consensus and strengthen the movement. But too often, they cause deep fractures.
Most women are feminists, even if they don’t know it. Even a solid majority of men say they support gender equality, Feminism is better for relationships and for the world, and feminist politics are a basic matter of social justice. Yet feminists are losing the culture war. Matters of life and death for mothers are dismissed as mere “mommy wars.” Many doctors are more invested in their own hurt feelings and defensiveness than in ending the epidemic of preventable maternal mortality and the rampant racism and sexism in medicine. The red pill movement is rapidly gaining followers who openly discuss their hatred for and disgust with women. And self-described feminist men continue to exploit, intimidate, and even assault the women they claim to respect.
We need to recruit more people to the movement, get more women comfortable with vocal activism, and come together to build a sustainable movement that can steamroll right over anyone who gets in our way.
To do that, we have to get better at conflict. Over and over, I have watched conflict destroy feminist organizations. It makes sense. We live in a patriarchal society where very few of us learn healthy communication and conflict management skills. So to many of us, conflict is terrifying. And to some of us, conflict is exciting—a chance to destroy our interlocutor rather than arrive at mutual agreement.
Feminism is not theoretical. It’s not an intellectual exercise or a way to prove something. It is a matter of life and death. It affects all of us, and all of us therefore can and should be feminists.
We need everyone.
Even the people we don’t like.
Even the people we think are annoying.
And yes, even people who disagree with us. I should clarify that I am not talking about allowing feminism to devolve into racism or ableism, about appeasing men, or about avoiding disagreements to make the most privileged women uncomfortable. Some disagreements should lead to a permanent fracture. But most are an opportunity to sharpen our minds and our movement.
We all need to learn how to disagree better. It’s the only way we can work through our differences, grow our movement, and build a better world. And these skills will also serve us to build better personal worlds, arguing more effectively with the people we love.
Here is my modest proposal for better navigating conflict.
Directness is kindness
Women are enculturated from birth to be nice. As a result, many of us struggle to be direct. But directness is kindness. It eliminates any uncertainty, and greatly reduces the risk of uncertainty. Don’t argue with innuendo and insinuations. Don’t share your concerns in indirect and passive-aggressive ways.
These simple scripts can help:
Here’s what I think [in two sentences or less]. Can you tell me [what you think/what you disagree with]?
I don’t think that’s an effective strategy, and here is why…
Can you clarify what you mean by that?
The goal is to clearly identify your own argument while understanding the other person’s thoughts, too. Without doing that, it’s impossible to have meaningful conversation—and why talk at all if you can’t even bother to identify and name what you’r
Conflict is not bullying. And disagreement is not abuse.
How do we fix the broken family court system? It’s easy to give a flippant answer—easier, still, to insist that we must call for revolution, dismantle the whole thing, and start from scratch, as if any of those tasks are simple.
But really, what do we do? If we are serious about change, we have to cultivate a plan. Planning requires conflict. We must all come to the table with our ideas, then fearlessly look at the benefits and drawbacks of each suggestion.
If we can’t do this, then we cannot change anything. Conflict is not bullying, and disagreeing with someone is not abuse. Where feminism often gets into trouble is with its tendency not to separate the message from the messenger. If you disagree with someone, suddenly they’re a monster. Critiquing someone’s idea is tearing them down.
But we really can do these things gently, in a way that builds consensus. Some general principles to implement:
Disagreeing with someone’s idea for change does not mean you dislike them, nor that you think there is no need for change. We must all accept this.
We must all accept that disagreement is inevitable. Ignoring, silencing, or hating anyone who disagrees with you will never work.
When criticizing someone’s view, focus on working together to make their ideas more effective rather than on beating them down and winning.
Treat every disagreement as a chance to work together to jointly build something better and more thoughtful.
Remember that disagreement makes every argument stronger; every argument must stand up to criticism.
Feminism as a social movement, not a competition or a way to earn clout
I used to have a friendly acquaintance who would send me problematic videos and news items—this person being ableist, this person being sexist, etc. I generally find that sort of thing to be a waste of time, but would always respond with something like, “Yeah, that’s really enraging.” Her response was always the same: She would then tell me what was problematic about the video. As an awkward neurodivergent who thought she was just making conversation, I found this puzzling.
That’s when I realized that she was testing me, and her explanation of the problematic content was an indication that I had failed. She wanted to show me that she knew better than me about these topics, even when the problems she identified were so obvious as to not warrant any discussion at all.
It is inherently degrading to test people to see if they’re as good as you. Yet this has become the dominant approach in feminist debates. We’re not really discussing things to build knowledge, challenge ourselves, and create a better world. We’re just judging people to see who gets into the group and who doesn’t.
That’s not a social movement. That’s a hierarchy—something that’s anathema to real change.
We should argue with people to persuade them and to understand them, not to seek clout, raise our own profile, and win. If the goal of your argument is to decimate the other person or look good to others, it’s not feminism you’re practicing.
Either the person is so terrible as to be irredeemable—think neo-nazi or confirmed racist—in which case it is a waste of your limited time and energy to argue with them.
Or they disagree with you about something, in which case attempting to destroy them is a waste of your time and involves practicing the patriarchal values—dominance, hierarchy, ownership, status—we are trying to destroy.
Arguing to learn rather than win
Winning an argument is easy. You can insult or threaten a person to the point that they no longer want to participate. You can continuously straw-person your interlocutor, pretending they said things they didn’t. You can sea lion a person, aggressively peppering them with questions rather than responding to the substance of what they have to say. You can talk to a person like they are stupid or inferior until they give up.
It might feel good in the moment. Good for the movement, though? Good for society? Good for anyone over the long-term? Absolutely not.
If you are not open to learning something new—or to teaching something new—then there is no point in engaging in discussion. The purpose of an argument is to change minds, and in a world being destroyed by white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, we have a moral obligation to change minds when we can.
Offering an opportunity to change without degradation
Telling someone they are stupid or inferior for believing something means that changing their mind is an admission that they were in fact stupid or inferior. This is anathema to actually changing minds.
Encourage people to consider a different perspective, offering assurance that it’s ok to change their mind, and that changing one’s mind is what intelligent, good people do every day and all the time.
Consider citing an example of when you changed your mind—and consider also being open to them changing your mind. After all, you’re a feminist, which means you shouldn’t believe that you are a superior being to another person.
Acknowledging that you might be wrong
I recently got into an argument with a male acquaintance. This is someone who only recently became a feminist, and whose path to leftist politics has been very slow.
This man condescended to me every step of the way. He, you see, is the real authority on leftist politics.
Somehow the thought that he has a long history of being wrong about things, and might also be wrong about this, did not occur to him.
This mindset—this absolute belief in one’s rightness to the point of behaving abusively toward others (especially others more affected by the issue, which is a common behavior among white men arguing with women and white people generally arguing with people of color)—is incongruous with thought, growth, and with all we know about ourselves and human behavior.
I have been wrong about many things.
Consider all that you have been wrong about.
Consider that you might be wrong about this, too.
You can gatekeep feminism and keep people out, slowing progress. Or you can build consensus, grow, and learn.
Arguing about the actual argument, not a proxy fight
A few weeks ago, someone posted a comment suggesting that I should write more about trans men, after leaving a series of other comments telling me I am centering men by not writing about penises.
It was bizarre, taken at face value. But I knew this poster’s history, and knew they were trying to initiate an argument about trans rights. It’s just that they were really bad at it, because they picked the argument up three-quarters of the way through in their own brain rather than saying what they mean and asking what I think.
I see this all the time. Person A will say something. Person B will argue against what they think it means, rather than the actual content of Person A’s argument. Or Person C will say something passive aggressive that they assume Person A will understand, because they think everyone thinks like them, and that everyone draws the same conclusions from the same arguments they do.
This is a recipe not just for conflict, but for incredibly frustrating conflict.
Please. I am begging you. Say what you mean. Ask the other person what they mean. Argue about what everyone is actually saying, not some proxy fight.
Scale back the audience
Arguing on social media, getting likes for the latest witticism, feels good. It only fosters polarization and division, and it can destroy our relationships.
Try to remove the audience. Take it to messages, or better yet, in person. When people aren’t liking each comment, giving you points for being as abusive as possible, you’re far more likely to achieve consensus.
The obligations of dominant communities
It is not fair to expect Black people to continuously argue with white people over their right to be safe and free. It is not fair to expect women to bear the entire burden of white men’s horrifying beliefs about gender and masculinity.
When a person’s beliefs stand to injure you personally, when they trigger a lifetime of trauma, you have a right—perhaps even an obligation to yourself—to bow out.
Members of dominant communities stand to lose less. When a person seems persuadable, they should engage in good faith in the art of persuasion—because these are serious issues affecting real people’s lives, not fun intellectual exercises that don’t matter in the real world. Dunking on someone and bowing out as soon as they say something mildly problematic is a recipe for losing consensus.
If you hold social power relative to the other person, you have other obligations, too:
You don’t get to behave in racist, sexist, and other abusive ways just because someone disagrees with you.
Be mindful of power dynamics, and of how society is more likely to listen to you and your arguments. Then consider how that actually increases the odds of you being objectively and seriously wrong, but no one ever telling you that.
Don’t demean the other person. Sea lioning, talking over the other person, and positioning yourself as an authority are still abusive acts of supremacy culture, even when you think you’re right.
Admitting what you don’t know, and leaving space for uncertainty
An argument is not a competition. Otherwise, it’s pointless. It’s an opportunity to learn and build consensus.
You cannot do either when you insist on your own infallibility. But too often, I see people (myself included) refusing to concede even the smallest point, and refusing to admit they are wrong—even when their wrongness is obvious.
To argue effectively, you must become comfortable with uncertainty, and with admitting to not knowing everything.
We have, for reasons I do not understand, come to believe that a person must know everything to be right about one thing, and that an argument must grapple with all possible contingencies to be valid.
For example, I oppose war. I believe that war always causes human rights violations, that those violations always target the most vulnerable and marginalized communities, and that mass civilian deaths are inevitable. Inevitably, when I argue with people about this, they insist that I must solve every possible problem this creates. They treat their position as the default, rational one, and don’t feel a need to solve any of the problems on their side.
The same is true of men arguing against feminism, who seem to believe that if feminism creates any challenges for men, it immediately becomes invalid and untenable.
As feminists, we often feel pressured to answer every single question our interlocutor poses, but we don’t have to. There is power in acknowledging uncertainty and what we don’t know. Those are the spaces in which we can build meaning and knowledge together:
“I’m not sure how we can stop these abuses without a war, but I would love to talk to you about that.”
“You’re right that asking men not to use pornography in a relationship will upset them. But why do you think that ends the argument?”
“I don’t know the answer to that or the solution to that problem, but I bet we could work on it together.”
In admitting what you don’t know, you increase the odds that the other person will, too. And if they decide instead to condescend to you and weaponize your uncertainty against you, then you at least gain the benefit of knowing they’re not worth your time.
How do we decide when to argue?
One of the most important decisions we can make is whether it is worth our time and energy to engage in an argument. Some people cannot be convinced—and some relationship dynamics make persuasion impossible, even in persuadable people.
I am never going to change the mind of someone who actively dislikes me and who hopes not to emulate me. And it’s not generally worth my time to argue with overt misogynists, since they’re already too far gone for me to convince.
But often, we can make at least a little progress. And when the issue is of great or immediate importance, and when we can argue without significant personal harm, it’s often worth our energy to do so. Some factors I look at when deciding whether to invest include:
Will arguing or shunning be more effective? The far-left groups in which I tend to run have, in my opinion, relied too much on shunning. To me, this comes across as a lack of confidence in our own persuasive abilities that, over time, can weaken our rhetorical talents and prevent us from learning to answer challenging questions. Still, some positions—overt racism, severe misogyny, threats of any variety—respond best to shunning. I have often argued that men will only change their behavior when misogyny renders them unfuckable. Consider whether this is a person who is willing to discuss things in good faith. If not, weigh whether shunning them for their views might be a more effective tool—or at least one that protects your peace.
Am I fully understanding their argument? Before you start an argument with someone, make sure you understand what they’re saying. Too often, we assume that because a person thinks one thing (for example, we shouldn’t declare war on x nation) they think another (for example, human rights violations are fine or are not happening). Don’t bore full speed into a fight without first bothering to define what you’re fighting about.
Is this worth my time? Is it possible you can persuade this person? Or is this discussion more likely to alienate them and bystanders?
Can I argue without becoming abusive? Sometimes an issue hits too close to home, and you just don’t have the capacity to remain calm. Or maybe you’re going through something in your personal life. Don’t use an argument as an outlet for your own pain. Becoming abusive will only further polarize you, thereby undermining your cause. Avoid argument if you know you can’t stomach it.
Why am I doing this? Arguing with others can be a reflexive, highly emotional decision, especially on social media! Someone is wrong (or thinks I’m wrong) and I must correct it! Pause. Reflect for just a moment. Why are you doing this? Is this the best use of your time and talents?
The death of open-mindedness to fragility
The one scenario in which I often see feminist communities being too understanding is when a member of a dominant group gets their feelings hurt by being called out.
Sometimes you do have to shun a person. Just make sure it’s the right person.
Every so often, I have to kick someone out of my support group for abusive behavior—usually racism. Ninety percent of the time, they offer the same defense: “I thought this was an open-minded place!” I think that, because feminism is for them a new and unfamiliar concept, they assume that feminism is inherently open-minded, or that it should be.
What they’re really asking is for feminism to be open to abuse of marginalized communities, but closed to critiques of such abuse.
This is one of the few areas in which we feminists actually need to be more aggressive with shutting down arguments. It is not acceptable for comparatively privileged individuals and groups to bully and abuse comparatively marginalized individuals and groups.
Those of us who run feminist organizations and communities must intervene quickly and decisively Open-mindedness is not a core feminist value. Respect for our fellow human being is.
We must always prioritize the safety of marginalized groups over the feelings of those who would hurt them, and over our desire to be liked. You must kick racists out of your groups. You must intervene when someone viciously attacks the mother who just buried a child. Fragility makes people do abusive things, and we have a moral obligation to stop it—even if it means we can’t bring someone around to our side.
Readers, what do you think needs to happen for us to have better feminist arguments?
It seems true within feminism and without, that we assume mothers and marginalized women are stupid. Obviously, it's not worth arguing with people like that, but few of them will out themselves. Do you have any tips for telling when someone legitimately doesn't understand us vs. refuses to listen?
Fantastic article. This should be required reading for anyone who wishes to post/comment online.