Feminist Standpoint Theory

Happy Father’s Day everyone, let’s talk about gender equity! This is a good time to discuss equity, because the world needs lots of male feminists, woke white people, and folks who are willing to weaponize their privilege in service of a more just, equitable and compassionate world.

To examine Feminist Standpoint Theory, let us think about an age-old, high-stakes question in American family life: toilet seat up, or toilet seat down? I put this question out to Facebook on Friday, and some patterns jumped out at me among the responses. Specifically, men made up only about one-fifth of the respondents. The sitting down crowd had clearly thought much more about these questions. They pointed out multiple times: everyone can use the toilet sitting down, if they so choose, but only an exclusive subset can use the toilet standing up. Therefore, the toilet seat should always be left down after using it. This is the correct answer, by the way. If everyone can be accommodated by doing something one way, but not another, the inclusive way is the more ethical path. In this case, that means leaving the seat down after every usage, regardless of whether you lift it during said usage.

Those who pee sitting down are generally able to see and analyze this issue more clearly. This is an example of how knowledge is socially located, how what we know and how we look at the world depends on our social identities. In this case, a non-male point of view gives one a clearer view of the most inclusive policy regarding lifting the seat or not. Philosopher Terri Elliott gives another example, writing:

“Person A approaches a building and enters it unproblematically. As she approaches she sees something perfectly familiar which, if asked, she might call ‘The Entrance’. Person X approaches the same building and sees a great stack of stairs and the glaring lack of a ramp for her wheelchair.”

Again, a ramp includes everyone, whereas stairs are only viable for the temporarily able-bodied. It is so easy to miss that fact if you have able-bodied privilege, but completely unmissable if you are disabled.

The epistemology, the way of knowing, that claims knowledge is socially situated, is widely accepted in the social sciences. Elizabeth Borland writes: “In societies stratified by gender and other categories, such as race and class (and ability), one’s social positions shape what one can know.” That much is widely observed and accepted among philosophers and social scientists. If you pee sitting down, you’re more likely to know that toilet seat down is a more inclusive default position. If you use a wheelchair, you’re more likely to know the importance of ramps and wheelchair accessibility.

Standpoint theory takes that idea one controversial step further. It agrees that folks have different knowledge based on their social identities, their race, gender, sexuality, and so on. But it also claims that, when it comes to movements for justice and equity, those with the marginalized identity know better. That men and women and gender non-conforming folks see the issue of gender differently because of their gender identities, and that non-male folks have a better perspective on gender equity. That Black and white folks have different perspectives on racial justice, and that the Black perspective can see the injustices more clearly. That the marginalized perspective contains a more cogent analysis, and a clearer sense of what needs to be done. That starting from a non-male, non-white point of view allows one to see and operate more effectively. That is what I believe, and that belief guides what I do as a minister.

The normative judgment of granting not just equality but preference to marginalized perspectives is controversial. I talked or corresponded with four feminist scholars in preparing this sermon, and half of them actually rejected this preferential treatment of marginalized standpoints. If you believe that although people have different perspectives, each perspective can be equally valid, you are in good company.  I would, however, emphasize that the perspectives are still different, and we absolutely need to do our best to include all of them, in order to get a full picture of what we are trying to do. In our pluralistic Unitarian Universalist faith, we recognize that no one individual has all the answers, that there are many valid paths to understanding, and that we are genuinely stronger when we include as many of those paths as possible.

This doesn’t mean all folks with a particular perspective embody it politically better than all who lack it. Just because she is a woman, does not make Alabama Governor Kay Ivey a better feminist than, for example, Rev. Rob Keithan, who is the former Director of Public Policy at the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice. One’s social identity is not one’s fate. We are not stuck looking at the world only from our own perspective. We each have agency in determining how we see the world.

New Zealander philosopher Tracy Bowell describes that “…while both the dominant and the dominated occupy perspectives, the dominated are much more successfully placed to achieve a standpoint. Nevertheless, it is not impossible for those who occupy non-marginalized perspectives to become part of the process of helping reach a shared critical consciousness with respect to the effects of power structures on epistemic production.”

If you are male or white, you can still be feminist, or anti-racist. But you’re going to have to work for it. Everyone has to work through both study and action to have a helpful analysis of the changes needed. But you can come by some of that study and action more naturally if you have the marginalized identities in the first place. I have mostly privileged identities and I have operated in activist spaces for much of my adult life. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that I needed to put in extra intellectual and emotional work to be a positive contributor to movement efforts.

The times when I have been most able to do this, are when I have set specific guidelines. In February of 2017, Anil Dash was a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, With Friends Like These. He discussed whose voices are and are not amplified in tech spaces, and he shared that he had adopted a practice of not retweeting men. He found it more difficult than he had pictured. I am a fairly active Twitter user, I post once or twice a day on average mostly retweeting what other people have said. I decided to try his practice of not retweeting men, and honestly I did not think it would be that big of a deal for me. But I found that it actually made a huge difference in usage of the platform. The vast majority of the content I had been sharing previously was by men, without my even realizing it.  I could basically no longer tweet about men’s professional sports leagues. Most of the politics, culture, and comedy content I had been sharing had to go away, too. In the beginning, I was tempted to break my own rule all the time. But I stuck with it, and now it’s almost second nature. So, my suggestion is to be mindful of whose voices you amplify in social media spaces. And, if you feel like it’s helpful, make a rule for yourself about who you will and won’t share content from.

That advice begs the hypothetical question of if you should share my sermon on social media, or if I as a man have any business talking about gender justice in the first place. That’s a paradox that I continue to struggle with. What I have discovered is that I should never interrupt, never play devil’s advocate, and never make it about myself. Good allyship depends as much on being able to handle subtlety, nuance, and complexity, as it does on courage and willingness to speak up.

I have made more mistakes than I can count in figuring out those lessons, including embarrassing and public mistakes more than once. Sometimes I have been able to learn from those mistakes and atone for them, and in those instances I am proud of my mistakes. Perfectionism is an obstacle to progress. Don’t be afraid of speaking up because you think you might not say the right thing. No one says the right thing all the time. What’s important is to be humble and do your best to make things right and do better the next time. Sometimes there is no 100% right answer, and this work can feel like a real Kobayashi Maru. Just remember to keep breathing, keep calm, and be patient.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if speaking up is helpful, or if you are just doing it to feel better about yourself. Performative wokeness is when an ally posts on social media or speaks up in a group in a way that benefits the ally more than it benefits folks who are marginalized. The number one piece of advice from respected activists and movement-builders I have heard is: lead with your wallet. If you’re serious about making a difference, and not just looking like you want to make a difference, donate money. And time and talent, and show up for the work. In anticipation of my sermon this morning, I made a donation to the National Network of Abortion Funds, one of my family’s favorite charities. And remember, we can’t appoint ourselves allies, only someone we are in solidarity with can bestow that honor.

No one can do this work alone. Attaining the spiritual and emotional maturity needed to be good at empathetically supporting and joining justice efforts is only achievable in community. We all need each other’s’ efforts, as well as each others’ perspectives. I have great gratitude for Northwest being a loving community where folks can embrace hard spiritual questions together.

Thank you to those of you who have helped me grow and expand my perspective during my time at Northwest. I appreciate those who have partnered with me in this work over the last year and a half, and those who have lovingly and compassionately disagreed about the best way to live our shared faith. Please know that if you have spoken up in favor of inclusion or equity because of anything I have said, you have made my time here more than worth it. Thank you, and please remember, the toilet seat should always be left down.

May it be so, and may we be the ones to make it so.

Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation

June 16, 2019

© Rev. Jonathan Rogers