Is feminism a toxic word?

I first remember coming across the word ‘feminism’ when I was about 9, and asking my mum what it meant. “It’s the principle”, she replied, without even glancing up from her newspaper, “that girls and boys should be treated in exactly the same way”. I remember thinking it bizarre that such an obvious concept even needed a name, but I didn’t question it any further.

As a shy and body-conscious teenager walking to school by myself, I quickly realised why. Men on the street - construction workers, paramedics out of an ambulance window! - would wolf-whistle and hurl abuse at me, and laugh raucously when I nervously walked faster and turned up my Walkman CD player (remember those?). I’d run out of hands if I tried to count the number of times people ‘accidentally’ brushed their own hands against me on public transport. My female headmistress strongly discouraged me from applying to study science (“what’s wrong with English, or Spanish?”). Even now, my grasp of Java is, apparently, “excellent, for a girl”. So, determined and spurred on by a leaflet at the Freshers’ Fair, I joined a few feminist groups on Facebook - my first real experience of Feminism, with a capital F.

I suddenly felt that, despite having been belittled and harassed on an almost-daily basis, I knew next to nothing about what it was supposed to mean. It wasn’t a man cat-calling me on my way to lectures, it was ‘objectification’. ‘Privilege’ took on a specific meaning quite distinct to its everyday usage. I was learning new concepts at a rate unparalleled since primary school - ‘androcentrism’, ‘intersectionality’, ‘rape culture’, ‘sex-negativity’ (which doesn’t always, apparently, imply that all sexuality is bad, merely that ‘the patriarchy’s’ construction of it and its focus on ‘PIV’ is ‘misogynistic’).

I eventually plucked up the courage to dip my toes in the water and comment on a long thread (just two posts under a lonely, unliked call for volunteers to help with a fundraising event for a domestic violence charity), questioning why the content in question was offensive and whether it was really intended to be in any way sexist. “You’re trying to derail this conversation by education”, came the terse reply, unhelpfully linking me to a guide called Derailment for Dummies. “It’s not our job to educate you. Besides, it doesn’t matter whether they knew they were being sexist or not.”

I’m sure the reply was well-intentioned. And I’m sure most people who call themselves ‘feminists’ would have given a longer and more informative response. But the thought stuck - if feminists were capable of making me, a keen, reasonably well-educated victim of sexist behaviours, feel alienated and uncomfortable, what hope does the movement have in convincing those who don’t even believe in equality, especially those who aren’t open and willing to swallow a dictionary of new words?

And, regardless of the argumentative style, the word ‘feminism’ itself is now so polarising as to make the associated discussion completely useless. “I’m a feminist” will win you instant feminist cookies from the 20% of Americans who identify as such, but is completely and utterly counter-productive when trying to explain to our target audience - the very people who are senselessly sexist - why their behaviour is wrong. “Check your privilege” is, at best, likely to earn you a quizzical look from all except the minority who’re already intimately familiar with the concept of male privilege. Trying to explain to a group of men why their conversation makes me feel uncomfortable is already difficult enough without having to simultaneously defend myself against allegations of being an angry lesbian man-hater and repeatedly explaining the details of the strawfeminist fallacy. I don’t care what the construction workers wolf-whistling me think of feminism (much as I’d like them to have respect for the first-wave feminist suffragettes who fought for the right to vote). “I’m no feminist”, I’ll say instead, instantly capturing everyone’s attention, “and I know you mean well, but your conversation makes me feel scared and uncomfortable.”

And I don’t seem to be the only one to hold this view. One of the ‘Feminist’ pages I followed linked to an article listing celebrities’ “misguided” reasons to decry feminism. Bjork, Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Madonna, Geri Halliwell; the list goes on - all role models to millions of young women, who, for one reason or another, have felt the need to distance themselves from the F-word. “I can’t believe it, I’m so angry”, said one of the comments. “How can all these celebrities have completely misunderstood what feminism is?”

The truth is, they haven’t. Modern-day, ‘third-wave’, feminism isn’t seen as a welcoming and all-accepting movement (though undoubtedly many feminists are, and the original tenet still holds; modern feminism encompasses a hugely greater number of beliefs and dogmas in addition to the simple plight for equality). The F-word instantly conjures up not-entirely-untrue images of an élitist, infighting and hopelessly idealistic group. A co-ordinated movement was useful years ago to provide a unified front to change laws; but today, we’re trying to change attitudes - a much more difficult goal - and flying under the outdated and divisive banner of ‘feminism’ is actively destructive to the cause. Identifying as a ‘feminist’ - or indeed an ‘equalist’ or ‘humanist’ or any other ‘ist’ - provides an easy ground for stereotyping and strawman arguments. When trying to win over others, standing on your own two feet is much, much more powerful than bandying around a word which is just another thing to argue against.

We live in a world where just 23% of American women identify as feminist; where several major female role models have come out against feminism, and even where a member of Imperial’s WSET Society committee came out a few years ago and said (albeit opposed to the current official policy of the group) that they ‘have no place or tolerance for feminism’.

Perhaps, rather than smugly attacking and critiquing all these people, it’s time for the Feminist community to take a good long look at the image it (correctly or not) portrays to the average person on the street. And to cut out alienating feminist jargon, to be willing to make pragmatic short-term compromises for long-term idealistic goals, and to ditch the toxic, divisive, and outdated F-word once and for all.

Or, at least, to have respect for those of us who make the informed decision not to use it.