The Issue With Modern Feminism
- Claire Yang
- Dec 9, 2025
- 8 min read
By Stuti Jain
Art by [FILL IN LATER]
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“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it.
Even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”
-- Margaret Atwood
I’ve always found literature and film fascinating in that it offers a unique mirror of society. This is, in part, due to the vast range of topics presented by creators, most astoundingly casually, as if providing a record of human life in all its nuance is simply another day in the world of storytelling. Art, of course, imitates life, and, more importantly, art imitates its creators.
That said, it’s evident that power dynamics exist both in and around the world of prose. Women have historically catered to male expectations when writing, withdrawing their femininity in order to exist in a male-dominated space. It’s no wonder that J.K. Rowling hid her gender behind her name, nor is it surprising that despite considering herself a feminist, she still finds herself under the thumb of the patriarchy. And even Ms. Rowling herself has and continues to perpetuate the exclusion that ‘old’ feminism used to harbor (of non-white people, the impoverished) by expressing anti-trans views and fighting against, as Emma Watson once said, “all of the witches.”
Female Characters and Romantic Leads
Harry Potter—perhaps the most dynamic, expansive, and culturally significant book series of this century (and the last)—is especially interesting to discuss because the books describe a parallel world that imitates our own. Through both Rowling’s writing and community interpretations, elements of the books not only echo but actively critique society. For example, the dementors (soul-sucking monsters that feed on happiness) are often treated as a metaphor for depression, while the werewolves were intended to be a metaphor for AIDS. More broadly, a significant conflict of the series—discrimination and conflict between purebloods and others—is a fictional exploration of Nazism, racial cleansing, and racial profiling. We also see Rowling comment on the role of women in society by mimicking their real-world counterparts.
Ginny Weasley, the youngest Weasley sibling, is a key example of both privilege and the patriarchy, of white feminism and its role in the media. Her personality is portrayed through an idealistic lens of strength and resilience, making her a proper match for Harry. She shows little growth or flaws, having been cast away from the spotlight from years two through five.
Ginny is described as exceptionally beautiful, smart, tough, and unemotional. She holds immense popularity at Hogwarts and is well-liked by many beloved characters. But while she is kind to most, she behaves rudely to Fleur Delacour, a beautiful and intelligent student of a rival school, mocking her femininity and nicknaming her "Phlegm." Now, there’s nothing wrong with a character having flaws. It’s the way these flaws are addressed (spoiler alert: they’re not!) that becomes problematic; it’s the prerequisites that a female character must demonstrate in order to be “worthy” of behaving in the manner that they do. Most of these standards fit into the following categories:
You must be white (or at least fit Eurocentric beauty standards)
You must be thin
You must be attractive
You must not put effort into said attractiveness
You must be desirable to men
And, of course, the redemptive quality that makes up for attractiveness and desirability (because, naturally, both traits are coveted and rejected): being ‘unlike other girls.’ Namely, one must be feminine enough to attract men, reaping the benefits of their femininity, while simultaneously embodying masculine ideals and qualities. One must have a woman’s body and a man’s brain.
Yet, certainly, one must not put any effort into conforming. A girl’s worth is a currency and is immediately quantifiable, whereas a man is valued simply for his humanity, for his existence as complexity. And this currency is worth most when it isn’t asked for. A woman who is too loud, who is too upfront, is a threat.
Think of common stereotypes in high school movies. True, the female main character is typically middle to low in the social hierarchy, but they are undeniably more attractive than those who reign higher—almost a requirement. Furthermore, this lack of popularity or social competency isn’t treated as a flaw—it's more like a quirk, a kind of idiosyncrasy that attracts men, at least the desirable ones.
The female lead or love interest (though much of the time, the lead is a love interest) often enjoys traditionally masculine hobbies like sports or intellectual ones like writing, but almost never enjoys ‘feminine’ pursuits such as fashion or clothes. These are often regarded as simple or less-than, with mocking of these pursuits seen as socially acceptable. Those that diverge from these gender-normative roles are praised for supposedly “subverting standards,” though this results in no quantifiable change. While a female fashion designer might actively threaten a man’s position, a woman in sports competes in a separate, gendered category. She provides little risk to patriarchal society, with her life’s path serving as mere entertainment to the other side.
However, this still ignores the power dynamic that comes with such gender roles. Masculine behavior is often equated to powerful behavior, so a woman that only achieves power through male desire and masculine interests does not change the underlying issue in our patriarchal world.
Women that are portrayed to enjoy girly occupations such as makeup and clothing are commonly reduced into one of two categories: The Simpleton and The B*tch. Now, The Simpleton can take on a few forms, but the most common is dumb and pretty, an embodiment of the male gaze. Take Karen Smith from Mean Girls—boy-obsessed, void of depth. The B*tch, on the other hand, finds joy in cruelty. Her only complexity comes from her unique ability to tear down, all while coated in a sheen of lip gloss. While neither trope is universally representative of modern society, they perpetuate harmful stereotypes that force a conformation of sorts—at least in the minds of men.
One of the only times we see a female character with deeper, more human flaws is when it’s taken to the extreme. These characters are presented as so quirky and so inherently flawed that their personality becomes these so-called faults. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl, or the MPDG, is a trope in which a romantic lead is excessively eccentric. Despite seemingly varying from other feminine tropes and archetypes (e.g., The Simpleton, The B*tch), I consider them to be similar in terms of foundation. The MPDG is a bit more overt in its misogyny, however. While their male counterparts harbor nuance and profundity, these women or girls lack anything deeper than their surface-level descriptions. And, above all, their faults can be rationalized by male-centered approval, else they would face heavy criticism.
Another stereotypical trope for women is the Femme Fatale. The Femme Fatale is a beautiful and alluring character that represents the power and control that toys with male lust. And the more shiny and unattainable they are, the more irresistible they become. While this trope may seem almost feminist in its shift of control to female figures, at closer inspection, it’s just as male-centric as the rest. Emily Ratajkowski, an American model, said it best in her critically acclaimed novel, My Body:
“In my early twenties, it had never occurred to me that the women who gained their power from beauty were indebted to the men whose desire granted them that power in the first place. Those men were the ones in control, not the women the world fawned over. Facing the reality of the dynamics at play would have meant admitting how limited my power really was—how limited any woman’s power is when she survives and even succeeds in the world as a thing to be looked at.”
― Emily Ratajkowski, My Body
The Myth of Having It All and the Girl Power Cliché
There is a common idealization in media—the idea that one can “have it all.” A successful career, healthy children, and a happy home life. With women, however, this lifestyle extends further, including cooking, cleaning, and raising children under its impractical umbrella. In the modern era, it seems more and more true that the ability of a woman to balance these standards is not an ability at all but an expectation. And the women that do adhere to these standards aren’t placed on pedestals but merely comment on what all women should attain, creating an irritatingly close-minded definition of success—one that seems based on male-centric ideals mixed with womanly duty rather than personal fulfillment.
The phrase “Girl Power” commonly praises these all-successful women, straying from its uplifting intent. Coined in the 1990s as a phrase of confidence and strength, “Girl Power” or “GRL PWR” became a little movement of its own. Even today, it continues to play a heavy influence in books and films, often emphasizing the uniqueness of a main character, her sheer dissimilarity from others of her age. This specialness—for lack of a better word—seems to be a prerequisite rather than a character trait, as if a woman or girl of lesser ability is, well, less-than. This perpetuates the notion that “having it all” is the only way, the proper way to exist.
The Tokenization of Feminism
Interestingly, the pressure to be feminist seems to lie upon women, with feminism having been constructed in a way that legitimizes this. Being feminist has become something of a catchphrase, almost tokenized, existing when convenient to the user or society. By making feminism a prerequisite for women (but not for men), society treats women’s rights as a club membership—you must fight for human rights—rather than a fundamental standard. Women who behave even seemingly subservient are accused of “anti-feminism,” as though their choices alone could set the cause back. Why should this be? Why should an aversion to modern feminist ideals stir so much controversy? Somehow, feminism has become a weapon used to attack women. Its message often perpetuates the notion that men are inherently valuable and must be proven otherwise, while women must work to prove their worth. They have to earn their consideration.
Women of color are especially failed and underrepresented by both modern and older feminist movements. In a concept I like to call “Buzzfeed Feminism”—after the news platform more focused on celebrity gossip than global atrocities—many so-called feminists fixate on minor cultural issues rather than the sheer brutality faced in Afghanistan, Iran, and Syria, or the rigid and demeaning standards of many subcultures in Korea, India, and parts of Asia. This brand of feminism shows a willingness to disregard human rights when inconvenient or distant.
Another flaw in modern feminism is its disinterest in including men in the conversation. In previous decades, this was understandable—even necessary—because the fight was for a woman’s basic, legal rights. Today, however, it becomes integral to cast a wider net, one that recognizes the issues that a patriarchy poses across genders. Women may bear the heavier weight, but men are often left with a quieter platform to speak on struggles like sexual abuse and mental health disorders.
By insisting that modern feminism is only about women, the movement undercuts itself. True feminism shouldn’t be about exclusion or retaliation but dismantling systems that pose harm. At its core, feminism is not a weapon but a modern equalizer, a opportunity and demand for change and, in that, reform.
About "Love in the Time of Banned Books"
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