‘Lad cultures’ in higher education – two academic papers out

With my co-author Isabel Young, I have recently published two academic papers on our research into ‘lad cultures’ in higher education. One is focused on appreciating the agency expressed by the young women who resist these cultures, and the other contextualises ‘laddish’ behaviours and sexual bullying within the marketised higher education sector. Abstracts are below – contact me at a.e.phipps@sussex.ac.uk if you would like a copy of either or both of these papers.

‘Lad culture’ in higher education: agency in the sexualization debates
Alison Phipps and Isabel Young

Published in Sexualities (available via OnlineFirst here).

This article reports on research funded by the National Union of Students, which explored women students’ experiences of ‘lad culture’ through focus groups and interviews. We found that although laddism is only one of various potential masculinities, for our participants it dominated the social and sexual spheres of university life in problematic ways. However, their objections to laddish behaviours did not support contemporary models of ‘sexual panic’, even while oppugning the more simplistic celebrations of young women’s empowerment which have been observed in debates about sexualization. We argue that in their ability to reject ‘lad culture’, our respondents expressed a form of agency which is often invisibilized in sexualization discussions and which could be harnessed to tackle some of the issues we uncovered.

Neoliberalisation and ‘lad cultures’ in higher education
Alison Phipps and Isabel Young

Published in Sociology (available via OnlineFirst here)

This article links HE neoliberalisation and ‘lad cultures’, drawing on interviews and focus groups with women students. We argue that retro-sexist ‘laddish’ forms of masculine competitiveness and misogyny have been reshaped by neoliberal rationalities to become modes of consumerist sexualised audit. We also suggest that neoliberal frameworks scaffold an individualistic and adversarial culture amongst young people that interacts with perceived threats to men’s privilege and intensifies attempts to put women in their place through misogyny and sexual harassment. Furthermore, ‘lad cultures’, sexism and sexual harassment in higher education may be rendered invisible by institutions to preserve marketability in a neoliberal context. In response, we ask if we might foster dialogue and partnership between feminist and anti-marketisation politics.

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Student political protest is under threat, not free speech

This is the original, longer version of a letter which appeared in The Observer on February 22nd (and can be read online here). It also contains more signatories, since people were still adding their names when we sent the letter off. If you wish to add your name, please leave a reply right at the bottom and we will add you.

We are deeply concerned about the inaccuracies of and politics behind the signed open letter published in the Observer on Sunday 15th February, which calls universities to account for ‘silencing’ individuals following the cancellation of Kate Smurthwaite’s comedy show at Goldsmiths, University of London.

The letter presents several examples of ‘no-platforming’ and ‘bullying’ which are not fully evidenced by the facts. We believe that this is part of a worrying pattern of misrepresentation and distortion that serves to benefit some of the most privileged and powerful outside of and within feminism at the expense of the most marginalised and excluded.

The letter also works to obfuscate and distract from real and crucial struggles that are currently taking place on campuses around the issue of freedom of speech. Recent years have seen university management and police respond to student political protest with increasingly punitive disciplinary and legal action. University staff are under growing pressure to observe and report on student activity in the name of counter-terrorism. University workers who organise against outsourcing and casualisation face victimisation at work. Many academic staff are deeply complicit in these processes; the signatories of the original letter would do well to reflect on this.

It is also important to note that the letter uses ideas of ‘free speech’ and ‘democratic political exchange’ in defense of the rights of academics and commentators to speak without being held accountable or challenged for their complicity in systems which are damaging to those whose lives they speak about. No one is entitled to disseminate their views on university campuses without opposition. For people who have ample opportunities to speak elsewhere, being ‘no-platformed’ by student groups does not equate to being persecuted. Decisions taken to exclude or counter some voices from some discussions at some specific times and places are democratically made, politically legitimate and do not amount to censorship.

It is disappointing to see so many people with institutional power and prominent voices in academia, policy-making and the media take sides against grassroots feminist organizing – including trans feminisms and sex workers’ rights. There is a long history of women positioned on the margins of feminist discourse engaging critically with mainstream feminist ideas and politics and the damage they can do. There are some very harmful ideologies currently circulating under the banner of feminist ‘debate’ – ideologies which not only perpetuate hateful myths about trans people and sex workers but also have the potential to influence policy precisely due to the platform(s) of those who advocate them. Some of these myths – the ‘toilet panic’ around trans people, the claim that all opposition to sex work abolition is funded by a ‘pimp lobby’- are specifically aimed at removing the vulnerable from public space and discourse.

As feminists, we do not agree that freedom of speech is freedom to speak unaccountably. We do not agree that academics and commentators are victimised or censored by trans women, sex workers or survivors of sexual and domestic violence who object to “debates” which rehearse stale and hateful politics, myths and misrepresentations about their lives. We will continue to organise against those debates and the politics they promote, and we call on other feminists to support us.

Abbie Sadler, Abbie Salter, Abby Rutherford, Abigail Brady, Agata Pacho, Aimee Challenor, Aisling Gallagher, AJ McKenna, Alan Hooker, Alexander Andrews, Alex Baker, Alex Brett, Alex Dymock, Alisdair Calder McGregor, Alison Phipps, Alon Lischinsky, Andrea Brady, Anelda Grové, Anneke Newman, Annette Behrens, Annie Teriba, Anwen Muston, Ariel Silvera, Ashlee Christoffersen, Ashraf Khan, Aura Lehtonen, Azeezat Johnson, Bahar Mustafa, Belinda Brooks-Gordon, Beulah Maud Devaney, Blake Gutt, Brendan O’Malley, Caitlin Doherty, Caitlin Light, Caoimhe Mader McGuinness, Cariad Martin, Caroline Leneghan, Carolynne Henshaw, Catherine Baker, Catherine Tomas, Cathy Wagner, CeCe Egan, Cel West, Charlie KIss, Charlotte Hamilton, Charlotte Jones, Charlotte Morris, Charlotte Richardson Andrews, Charlotte Skeet, Cheryl Morgan, Clare Moriarty, CN Lester, Constantine Sandis, Cornelia Prior, Creatrix Tiara, Daniel Blanchard, Dani Anderson, Daniel Baker, Daria Ramone, David Bell, David Hobbs, David Miller, Dawn Foster, Dean Peters, Deborah Grayson, Edward Siddons, Eleanor Brayne-Whyatt, Eleanor Roberts, Ellen Yianni, Elizabeth Vasileva, Ellie Slee, Elliot Evans, Elliot Folan, Ellis Suzanna Slack, Emily Nunn, Emily Reynolds, Emily Thew, Emma Bailey, Emma Bennett, Emma Felber, Erin Sanders-McDonagh, Esme Cleall, Eve Livingston, Felix Genting, Felix Lane, Fran Cowling, Frey Kwa Hawking, Gabriel Balfe, George Walkden, Georgia Mulligan, Gianfranco Bettocchi, Gillian Love, Ginger Drage, Grace Hagger, Gregory White, Hannah Boast, Heather Berg, Heidi Hoefinger, Howard Littler, Ian Sinclair, Ilana Eloit, Jackson Jesse Nash, Jacq Kelly, James Butler, James Carter, James Mackenzie, Jamie Bernthal, Jane Bradley, Jane Pitcher, Jay Levy, Jayanthi Kuru-Utumpala, Jaye Ward, Jasmine Cope, Jennie Rigg, Jennifer Kirk, Jenny Chamarette, Jenny Slater, Jenny Walker, Jessica Gagnon, Jessica Stacey, Jim Higginson, Joel Wallenberg, Jonnie Marbles, Josephine Shaw, Judith Wanga, Julia Downes, Juliet Jacques, Juno Roche, Justin Baidoo, Kaitlyn Nelson, Kae Smith, Kat Gupta, Kate Hardy, Kate Hutchinson, Kate Parrott, Kate Renwick, Katy Price, Kiona H Niehaus, Kirsty Murdoch, Kirsty Shaw, Kirsten Innes, Kitty Stryker, Laila Kadiwal, Laura Chapman, Laura Lee, Lauren Hall-Lew, Lauren Tapp, Leila Whitley, Lexi Kamen Turner, Linda Stupart, Lisa Jeschke, Lizzie Reed, London Black Revolutionaries, Luc Raesmith, Luca Stevenson, Lucy Delaney, Lucy Neville, Lucy O’Riordan, Luke Brunning, Lyndsey Moon, Magdalena Mikulak, Manishta Sunnia, Marie Thompson, Margo Milne, Martha Robinson, Marika Rose, Martha Dunkley, Mary Macfarlane, Matt Lodder, Matthijs Krul, Meg John Barker, Megan Chapman, Melanie Kampen, Melissa Gira Grant, Miranda Iossifidis, Molly Smith, Murray Robertson, Naomi Bain, Naomi Beecroft, Natacha Kennedy, Natalia Cecire, Natalie Garrett, Nicki Kindersley, Nick McGlynn, Nicola Mai, Nina Power, No HeterOx, Ntokozo Yingwana, Olivia Ouwehand, Onni Gust, Otamere Guobadia, Petra Davis, Phoenix Thomas, Rachel Mann, Ray Filar, Rebecca Winson, Reubs Walsh, Rey Conquer, Rhianna Humphrey, Robert Stearn, Rosanna Singler, Rowan Davis, Rumana Begum, Ruth Kinna, Ruth Pearce, Sally Hines, Sam Ambreen, Sami Wannell, Sam McBean, Samuel Solomon, Sanj Choudhury, Sara Ahmed, Sarah El-Alfy, Sarah Brown, Sarah Dorman, Sarah Hayden, Sarah Noble, Sarah Savage, ScotPep, Scott Long, Seán McCorry, Sex Worker Open University, Shakti Shah, Shamira Meghani, Shane Boyle, Shruti Iyer, Simon Hitchcock, Sofia Helgadottir, Sophie Jones, Sophie Lewis, Sophie Mayer, South London Anti-Fascists, Stacey White, Stella Gardiner, Surya Monro, Susuana Antubam, Taha Hassan, Tamsin Worrad, Tanya Palmer, Tasha Tristan Skerman-Gray, Thea Bradbury, Thea Don-Siemion, Thomas Clark Wilson, Thomas Sissons, Tim Squirrell, Toni Mac, Tristan Burke, Vonnie Sandlan, Wail Qasim, Wendy Lyon, Zara Bain, Zoë Kirk-Robinson, Zoe O’Connell, Zoe Stavri, Zowie Davy

Neoliberalism and the commodification of experience

The personal is political, that revolutionary phrase which illuminated the Women’s Liberation Movement of the 1970s and after, was originally coined in response to claims that consciousness-raising was navel-gazing with no coherent programme for social change. It posed a direct challenge to the idea that ‘personal problems’ and especially so-called ‘body issues’ should not be brought into the public arena, an assumption which feminism has done an excellent job of destabilising. Politicising the personal through the production of research on gendered bodies has fed the development of epistemologies based on the validity of experiential knowledge, and this, in turn, has brought to light the impossibility of objective analysis.

However, more than 30 years on, it is time to ask questions about what has befallen the personal in a neoliberal political context. Neoliberalism individualises, interiorises and neutralises – within this framework the political uses of the personal have shrunk as difference has transformed into ‘diversity’, and experience and emotion have become part of a broader ‘tabloidisation’ and ‘testimonialism’ in which popular culture and politics have been saturated with feeling. As Ahmed (citing hooks) reminds us, this narcissistic and therapeutic moment and movement can easily co-opt and depoliticise our personal pain (although she cautions that this does not mean it should be ignored). In the current political climate, affect and emotion often serve to detract from structural critique: as Pedwell argues, inequality is frequently seen as a failure of understanding rather than a product of neoliberal and neo-colonial governmentality. Furthermore, the pain which has always been (justifiably) central to feminist politics can accumulate and stagnate in what Wendy Brown calls ‘wounded identities’ which both legitimate and depend upon state power.

We are currently doing feminism in amongst a commodification of distress. Moreover, this transforms experience into currency with which to buy into broader ideologies or ‘gazump’ potential political opponents. This is revealed by the frequency with experience is ventriloquised by politicians and privileged ‘experts’, who use empathy as a technology of access to marginalised lives, often upstaging grassroots communities who may be able to claim ownership of their stories but lack a political platform. Neo-imperialist agendas strategically centre ‘native informants’, often women, whose narratives of oppression are used to constitute Other cultures, usually those of Muslim-majority societies or communities, as uniquely and inherently misogynist and homophobic. Domestic and international politicking around the sex industry is characterised by a fight for experiential authenticity, which in the mainstream media is often transmuted into a ‘debate’ between the extremes of the ‘victimised survivor’ central to abolitionist agendas and the ’happy hooker’ who often materialises as a rebuttal to that type of feminist politics. As part of its resurgence, anti-choice politics has recently undergone a shift away from its sanctification of the foetus, towards advocating the idea of abortion as a deep personal trauma which is contrary to women’s best interests.

Within a lexicon in which experience is frequently and increasingly used (often second-hand) in the service of particular political agendas, personal stories begin to lose their humanity. Complex and varied narratives are simplified and homogenised for ideological ends and can then be dismissed by those in opposition as apocryphal or even corrupt. As debates become more heated, we tend to fixate on the first-person and discredit the experience when we ought to be questioning the surrounding politics. The relationships between particular experiences and powerful and often repressive political agendas have begun to define the narratives themselves and to rob them of legitimacy. Muslim women who speak out against gender inequality become unreliable because they must be stooges of the imperial West. Sex workers who acknowledge pain have been procured and perhaps coached by moralistic, prudish abolitionists who wish to strengthen the police state. In response, those with privilege and political power tend to defend themselves with attributions of false consciousness: Muslim women who choose to cover their bodies, hair and/or faces, and sex workers who declare choice and discuss self-expression, can both emerge as patriarchy’s dupes. In this politics of positionality, experiences are always already marked by ideology and the first question we ask (consciously or not) when someone shares their experience is, ‘whose side are you on?’

The ideologisation of experience has produced a flattening out of lived realities for fear they will be converted into foreign currency. In much the same way as the complexities of ending a pregnancy may be underplayed by pro-choice individuals and groups for fear of reinforcing pro-life agendas, sex workers may de-emphasise, hide or even deny difficult experiences within a politics of respectability which operates in opposition to the radical feminist rescue industry and in a dynamic in which ‘excited’ and ‘exited’ are the only positions available. As neoliberalism turns debates into bidding wars, experience is valuable only in the right currency, which polarises and renders invisible the possibilities in between. Those with differing experiences of the same phenomenon are unable to co-exist, as one person’s experience may outbid and ultimately annihilate another’s. This also creates little space within the individual for mixed or ambivalent feelings to endure: multiplex subjectivities must become less so in order to be intelligible within the dominant phraseology of concepts such as ‘objectification’, ‘victimisation’ and ‘empowerment’.

Such compelling but essentially meaningless universalisms hide the operation of structural and historical dynamics. These include the impact of successive waves of colonisation on religious institutions and their relationships with both state and mass forms of political action in many Muslim-majority countries and communities, the links between migration flows and identities, the ways in which repressive immigration policies and criminal justice systems encourage individuals to narrate themselves in particular ways, and the situating of commercial sexualities within a post-Fordist capitalist system with a service-based consumer culture, high unemployment and shrinking social welfare. Furthermore, attempts at structural analysis often themselves inevitably collapse into appeals to experience: for instance, the radical feminist idea of patriarchy is frequently reduced to a homogenous experience of ‘male violence’, with little attention paid to the ways in which intersecting structures of oppression might produce varied encounters with this phenomenon and/or give rise to disparate analyses and forms of activism.

The contemporary politics of the personal prevents us from co-situating and productively analysing different experiences within such intersecting analytical frameworks, instead creating an anecdotal flow which is transmuted into a competitive deployment of one-dimensional stories and serves to create and widen gulfs between us. The fetishisation of experience also serves to restrict or conceal discussions based on other evidence, such as the compelling case against the criminalisation of sex workers and/or their clients, in which the figure of the victimised prostitute who must be rescued has made way for data pertaining to police and community harassment and repression, susceptibility to infectious diseases, risk of violence and access to health and social services.

This does not mean, of course, that we should not theorise from experience – indeed, the ‘view from nowhere’ with its attendant ‘voice of reason’ can also be that of the oppressor and reeks of entitlement and privilege (I say this with an awareness that in writing this piece, I may reasonably be read that way myself). Neither does it mean that all experiences, while valid, can be regarded as in themselves equally reliable sources of knowledge – what Haraway would term knowledge as an ‘act of faith’. Rather, we need to be able to translate experiences between situated, heterogeneous and power-differentiated communities, and use these as data to create knowledge informed by many types of evidence and frameworks of intersecting structures. We must also walk the fine line between respecting varied experiences, while critically appraising the uses to which particular experiences or technologies of empathy are put. Adding to our existing questions about ‘whose personal’ is political, we must be mindful of what it means to use the personal in the contemporary political context, ask whose experience counts within both dominant and marginalised thought and activism, and understand how neoliberalism depoliticises the personal and suppresses resistance by alienating us from each other.

Universities are reluctant to tackle sexual violence for fear of PR fallout

We have heard a lot lately about how UK universities have a problem with sexual violence. Nicole Westmarland, writing in the Telegraph on 20th January, cited a YouthSight poll which found that 1 in 3 female students had experienced sexual assault or unwanted advances, and described institutional inaction as a ‘national embarrassment’. My work with NUS, on the Hidden Marks and That’s What She Said reports, has revealed a high prevalence of sexual harassment and assault against women students, framed by a ‘lad culture’ which is increasingly normalised.

This January, a group including eight cross-party MPs and representatives of NUS and Rape Crisis published a letter asking Universities UK to develop guidelines on how HEIs should respond to sexual assault. At present, according to NUS President Toni Pearce, the most common response at institutional level at is a ‘not on my campus’ style of passing the buck. There are a few exceptions – for example, Sussex has developed a care pathway for victims and training for ‘first responders’, and the University of the West of England has created The Intervention Initiative, an evidence-based bystander education programme which can be embedded in the curriculum. But by and large, action on these issues is left to academics and students’ unions.

One reason for this is that developing policies and interventions on sexual violence is both time- and resource-intensive. Another reason, however, is that sexual violence at universities is seen primarily as a public relations issue. Institutions do not want prospective students and their parents, or potential donors, to be put off by stories about sexual victimisation, especially that occurring on campus. Furthermore, they are loath to take action in case by doing so they create the impression that their campus is worse than elsewhere.

Sexual assault is an issue of equality and social justice and this should trump any concern with public appearances. Moreover, the End Violence Against Women Coalition have advised that universities may be avoiding their responsibilities under the Human Rights Act and Public Sector Equality Duty by refusing to investigate sexual assault allegations. But if we entertain the neoliberal mindset for a moment, it’s also possible that we can turn the public relations argument on its head.

The problem of sexual violence against students is going to persist and has now achieved a high profile in the media. If they are not already, prospective students and their parents will soon be asking questions at open days, wanting to know if the university environment is safe and what support is in place if the worst should happen. There is now a general awareness that ‘lad culture’ and sexual assault affect all universities in the UK. Surely, it now looks better for HEIs to show they are doing something rather than sweeping the matter under the carpet.

Thinking more broadly, there is also a market argument for demonstrating that the values operating on our campuses are not just economic. My daughter will soon start primary school – and the values surrounding her education, such as respect, equality, trust and courage, make HE buzzwords ‘excellence’, ‘ambition’ and ‘enterprise’ seem rather blank. Of course, we are not running primary schools – but we are managing communities of bright young people in what has become a rather nihilistic setting. And although some universities do aspire to civic values, the prevalence of sexual violence and lack of institutional response suggest that these cannot be fully operational.

Continuing the market argument, augmenting economic values with civic ones in the HE sector would be an effective way for universities to develop their distinctive brand identities. Marketers and creatives advise that tapping into people’s feelings is key to branding – brand values need to be relatable (and commercial buzzwords are not). Refining the current set of economic generalities might also provide a basis on which universities could showcase their particular strengths.

For most universities, their biggest selling point will be their students. Ours at Sussex are political, feisty and fun – whether occupying lecture theatres in dispute with the management or staging ‘kiss-ins’ at Sainsburys to protest against homophobia, they are our best brand ambassadors. Sixth formers across the country and abroad can look at these bright, engaging young people and get an immediate impression of what Sussex is all about.

A set of civic values grounded in the unique character of each student community would be helpful in preventing violence, creating behavioural expectations and providing a basis on which universities could take action. The value of establishing such norms for conduct was recognised in 2011 by the Student Charter Report, which recommended that every HEI should have and publish a charter. However, although many universities do have such documents, the persistence of sexual violence shows that they are not going far enough in terms of embedding rights, responsibilities and community ideals. Soon, this will disadvantage them in market as well as moral terms.

Originally published in The Guardian