Sexism: The Invisible Ism by Barbara Cohn Schlachet
July 29, 2008
In the aftermath of the primary season, I’ve been puzzling over the lack of reaction, on almost every front, to the degree of overt sexism that was pervasive in the media during this time. With the exception of organizations and websites that supported Hillary Rodham Clinton, and those that are specifically oriented towards the rights of women and the portrayal of women in the media, there has been a deafening silence from the candidates and their campaign organizations, from the mainstream media, from the DNC, the RNC and from the public at large, both male and female.
Had this overt misogyny been any other form of bigotry, there would have been justified outrage. Had MSNBC’s Tucker Carlson said, instead of “Every time she [Clinton] comes on TV, I involuntarily cross my legs,” “Every time he [Obama] comes on TV, I involuntarily check for my wallet,” more than a public apology would have been demanded. So, why is sexism different? Why does it fly under the radar, even when it’s overt? Why are the media and the public so willing to accept it?
 It occurs to me that, among marginalized groups, women uniquely live with those that marginalize them, in a context of intimacy, loyalty, love and, often, dependency. Women are not literally ghettoized or ostracized. To the contrary, we are fully integrated into every community—with the exception of the power echelon in academia, business, media and politics—at least to the naked eye. However, ghettos (not to be advocated) offer the opportunity for a kind of solidarity; one knows who the enemy is, against whom one has to fight back, who is US, and who is THEM. This has played an enormous role in the civil rights struggle for African Americans, in the struggle for gay rights, religious freedom, and is now playing out in the effort to gain rights for immigrants.
Women, however, as well as men, are faced with what is essentially an issue of cognitive dissonance around issues of sexism. The phenomenon—holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously—surfaces when people see their actions as conflicting with their self-concept. The stress this engenders needs to be resolved by rejecting one of the contradictory ideas, or by denying discomforting evidence.
Within the family, gender is often an issue of status, as it is in the workplace and within our culture at large. Although our notion of family is based on a myth of equality, the institution is founded on the premises of patriarchy. The “ideal” heterosexual marriage is one in which the husband is older than, richer than, stronger than, taller than, more educated than (or, at least as educated as) his wife. To reconcile the dissonance between equality and status differences, one of these premises has to be dismissed or negated. Thus women and men, needing to maintain the illusion of equality in order to sustain a loving familial context, tend to deny, or at least minimize, the existence of sexism.
As women, we don’t want see ourselves as less than, or “anti” the men in our lives—our husbands, sons, brothers and fathers—because we also love them. They, in turn, don’t perceive themselves as sexist, because they love us—their wives, mothers, sisters and daughters. In addition, we don’t want to be seen as the stereotype that men complain about: strident, bitchy, ambitious ball-busters.
How can any of us, then, women or men, become sensitive to issues of sexism in the media, when we can’t let ourselves become conscious of it in the rest of our lives?
I can’t help but think of the statement about sexism made by Speaker Nancy Pelosi, one of the most powerful women in American politics today. When questioned about sexism during the primaries, Speaker Pelosi commented to the effect that she was aware of sexism, and had certainly had to face it herself, but that she didn’t let it bother her. Where would the civil rights movement be had Rosa Parks or the Reverend Dr. King not let racism bother them? Yet, if we do let it “bother us,” we end up having to face in our homes and families what we regularly face on the TV screen. I’m sure that media commentators, the majority of whom are male, do not see themselves as bigots or misogynists. How can they be, when they love the women in their lives?
So, what can we do to increase sensitivity to media bias? In the early 1980s, I was one of a group of people asked by NOW to monitor TV commercials over a period of time. My task was to pretend that I was a visitor from another planet, who got her information about life on earth and its inhabitants only from these commercials. I was then to describe women and men on earth. It was an eye-opening experience not only for me, but also for my two then pre-adolescent sons, whom I’d asked to join me in this task.
It could not be missed that women were the people doing the housework and cooking; men were the experts, commenting on the cooking and cleaning products in voiceovers. Similarly, men were the doctors, financial advisors, scientists, and the like. Women were the teachers, nurses and caregivers. Quite a portrayal to bring back to another planet! Has this changed? To some extent it has; there are more women doctors, scientists and financial advisors in today’s commercials, but TV pundits are generally male. Perhaps specifically targeted task forces of this kind could again be useful, with responses passed on to the media, and to the sponsors.
I remember that at the time of our project for NOW, we asked women to boycott the products of sponsors airing sexist commercials. I wondered then how much difference that made; whether we could assemble a large enough, or powerful enough constituency to change marketing policies, although women do most of the buying for themselves and their families. However, it raises the same conundrum. If we are not a large enough, or powerful enough constituency to make a difference, it may be because, in order to become more sensitive to sexism in the public sphere, we have to acknowledge it in the private sphere. How many of us are willing or able to do that?
How strange that 40 years after “The personal is political” became the credo of the women’s movement, the political has become all too personal.
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