Acknowledgement: I write as a man engaging with feminism from an ally perspective. The analysis below draws on feminist scholars, activists, and political figures. My aim is not to define women’s experiences, but to listen and contribute to conversations about how political power intersects with gender justice.

There is a growing global recognition that having more women participate in politics is not just a matter of symbolic fairness, but a pathway toward real social change. Research across dozens of countries shows that when women hold office, governments tend to invest more in healthcare, education, child welfare, and violence prevention – areas that disproportionately affect women and children.

According to UN Women, as of 2025, roughly one fourth of the world’s national parliamentarians are women. Only a minority of countries have ever been led by a woman. Just a couple weeks ago, Japan elected its first ever female leader. Japan, a male-dominated country with strong conservative gender roles, chose Sanae Takaichi as their new prime minister. However, representation alone doesn't necessarily guarantee feminist change. Margaret Thatcher famously rejected feminism, and Sanae Takaichi has taken a similar stance, openly opposing key gender equality reforms. Yet, both still mark a significant step forward for women in politics, just not in the way we might assume. Their rise shows how women can break into traditionally male structures without necessarily changing them.

So the question isn’t: does electing women produce feminist change?

It’s rather: under what conditions does women’s representation become liberatory for women — and when does it fail to do so?

This article explores that tension — how representation can be liberatory, how it sometimes is not, and what that means for the movement toward greater gender equity.

When women win, but things don’t change

Sanae Takaichi’s election is historically significant, but her policies signal continuity rather than transformation. Takaichi has opposed gender quotas and same-sex marriage, supported traditional family structures, and appointed only two women to her cabinet. Reporting across Japanese and European media stressed that she represents continuity, not transformation.

Here, Margaret Thatcher is a historical parallel. As Britain’s first female prime minister, she broke a glass ceiling that had held for centuries. She also rejected feminist language and appointed almost no women to senior positions. Rather than challenging gendered institutions, she often reinforced them. Thatcher’s presidency was the start of something new: a woman could lead a major Western democracy. However, she governed within a framework that remained patriarchal and individualist.

Italy’s Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni offers a contemporary version of a leader of a powerful country. Meloni is a high-profile woman whose conservative agenda defends traditional family models rather than reconfiguring gender roles. Since taking office in 2022, she has positioned herself as a symbol of female achievement while at the same time distancing herself from feminism, arguing that women’s empowerment comes from motherhood and religious values, not structural reforms.

These examples help us see a pattern. A woman’s presence at the top does not automatically shift the institutions she inherits. A leader can break the glass ceiling yet leave it unchanged. That does not make their leadership irrelevant, symbolic breakthroughs matter, but symbolism alone cannot undo patriarchal systems. None of these women leaders suggest they should not lead a country. The conditions around leadership, such as institutional support and political ideology, determine whether representation translates into meaningful change.

At the same time, placing an expectation on female leaders to “fix” gender equality simply because they are women reproduces an unfair dynamic. Male leaders are not held personally responsible for dismantling patriarchy, yet female leaders who do not adopt feminist agendas are often treated as disappointments.

The problem is not that Thatcher, Takaichi, or Meloni are women. The problem is that political systems remain structured in such a way that individual representation does not produce collective liberation.

Political shift

Women’s representation in formal politics is still low, but it is rising. The UN reports that greater participation broadens public agendas, strengthens social infrastructure, and can improve democratic legitimacy. Research supports this. A 2023 study on gender and political decision-making found that women legislators advocate more strongly for public health, childcare access, and anti-violence policy. Governments with higher proportions of women are more likely to pass laws against gender-based violence and expand social-protection systems. This stands in contrast to figures such as Thatcher, Takaichi, and Meloni, whose leadership did not translate into substantive feminist gains.

One explanation lies in the political environments that surrounded them. Leaders like Michelle Bachelet in Chile, and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf in Liberia, pursued transformative gender agendas because they governed within contexts more open to redistributive social policy. They were supported by progressive coalitions with public approval, and institutional frameworks that could translate feminist ambitions into more equal laws. Bachelet’s expansion of childcare rights, and Sirleaf’s post-conflict legal reforms addressing sexual violence were possible because they aligned with broader political projects that recognised gender equality as essential rather than optional.

Representation matters not only because women bring new policy priorities, but because it expands who counts in public life. The symbolic change is structural: when girls see women in power, they can imagine themselves in those roles. Political scientist Anne Phillips calls this the politics of presence – the idea that physical presence is a form of political pressure.

The global picture

Even with recent progress, the distance to gender parity remains long. As of 2025, women hold roughly 27 percent of parliamentary seats worldwide. Only 29 countries currently have a woman serving as head of state or government. According to UN projections, the world is still more than a century away from parity in the highest offices.

The Netherlands – often seen as progressive – shows how representation and inclusion diverge. Dutch political scientist Zahra Runderkamp argues that although more women are entering politics, many struggle to stay. They face greater harassment, receive smaller portfolios, and exit politics earlier. Interviews with female MPs reveal a recurring experience: politics is built around the rhythms and expectations of men. Even when women arrive in the political arena, they are often pushed to the margins of power.

Runderkamp notes that Dutch parties increasingly select diverse candidate lists, but often fall back on white male leadership when it comes to top positions. Media patterns reinforce this imbalance. Male politicians are discussed in terms of their ideas. Women are more often framed by personality, tone, family, or “likability.” These dynamics flatten the meaning of progress, making it appear that the problem has been solved when its foundations are unchanged. These findings echo a broader global reality: representation matters, but institutions decide what representation can do.

Media dynamics reinforce this. Men are evaluated on their ideas; women on their tone, personality, family status, or “likability.” These dynamics flatten the meaning of progress.They make it appear that representation has solved inequality when its foundations remain unchanged. Even with more balanced candidate lists – for example with initiatives like Stem op een Vrouw (Vote for a Women), has led to a record number of women parliamentairers of 43% – parties often revert to selecting white male leaders for top roles.

This context matters when evaluating the outcome of women’s leadership. If structures remain hostile, women leaders cannot simply be tasked with transforming them. The responsibility lies with institutions, parties, and citizens – not only with women who break through the door.

When representation becomes liberation

There are women whose leadership has transformed political systems though not solely because they are women. Their success depended on coalition support, and institutions willing to adapt, apart from their own willpower to change their countries oppressive patriarchal systems.

Jacinda Ardern in New Zealand built a government rooted in social infrastructure: paid domestic-violence leave, crisis-response frameworks, and a “well-being budget” that measured national progress not only by GDP, but by health, equity, and social resilience. Her reforms were possible because she led within a political culture already open to social experimentation. Michelle Bachelet in Chile, who expanded childcare access, strengthened anti-violence programmes, and institutionalised gender mainstreaming. Similarly, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf in Liberia governed during post-conflict reconstruction, prioritising legal reforms addressing sexual and gender-based violence.

In Iceland, former prime minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir made gender equality a central pillar of governance, strengthening national strategies to combat gender-based violence and supporting welfare structures that continue to rank Iceland as the world’s most gender-equal country. Her backing of parental-leave policies and public campaigns – including participation in the nationwide women’s strike – helped normalise the expectation that equality is a collective responsibility, not an individual achievement. Denmark’s Mette Frederiksen offers a different but still telling example. While her broader politics are sometimes contested, her government recognised and apologised for the historical forced contraception of Greenlandic women. Finland under Sanna Marin advanced a more comprehensive approach: her administration implemented a coordinated Action Plan for Gender Equality, aimed at embedding equity across employment, social services, and state institutions. With nearly half of ministers in her coalition being women Marin normalised female leadership across the cabinet, demonstrating how representation within institutions can shift political priorities toward care infrastructures and workplace equality.

These outcomes demonstrate that feminist policy emerges when women’s representation aligns with supportive institutions and political coalitions. Women are not inherently better to lead than men — but when the environment enables it, representation can transform systems.

Be an ally

Feminist progress has always been led by women. Supporting that progress as a man means recognising the limits of one’s perspective and practicing a form of participation grounded in listening. It means citing women’s research and activism, advocating for institutional reforms and calling out sexism in media, parties, friends, and workplaces.

Being an ally does not mean speaking about or for women. It means sharing power so more women can lead on their own terms. Take the time, listen to the experience of women.

Walking through the door representation opens

The story of women in politics is neither a straight line nor a finished project. The election of Takaichi, like Thatcher before her, makes clear that a woman at the top can reinforce existing hierarchies. But the record of Bachelet, Ardern, Sirleaf and many others shows that women’s leadership can also open new political horizons.

Representation is essential, but on its own, it is not liberation. Liberation happens when representation is linked to feminist agendas, and institutions willing to change. Electing women is only the beginning of this process.

The task now is to build systems in which women can not only enter power, but reshape it. Shall we?

This article is part of The Outside World, ftrprf’s very own research center.

For organizations, it’s pivotal to thoroughly understand what is happening in society. We help companies generate comprehensive insights into societal change and its potential effects on their strategy and operations, both negative and positive. With actionable societal insights, courageous plans, and a can-do mentality, we connect the outside world to your company's strategy. For these outside-world insights, we use a rigorous methodology that includes data processing, quantitative and qualitative analysis, and a thorough review process to ensure the accuracy and consistency of our findings.

For more information, please contact theoutsideworld@ftrprf.com.

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Next articleFeminism in 2025: Intersectionality, Digital Activism and Polarization Paradox

The feminist movement of 2025 has moved far beyond the classic gender‑equality agenda. It now embraces intersectionality, weaving race, class, sexuality, and disability into a single framework that recognizes how overlapping identities shape oppression. Digital platforms like TikTok, Instagram and X are the primary arenas where this expanded feminism is debated and amplified by Gen Z’s relentless online presence. However, this digital engagement has also exposed a growing paradox: while today’s feminism strives for inclusivity, it increasingly faces polarization and resistance, especially among young men. This article explores how contemporary feminism navigates this tension between inclusivity and division in the digital age. Feminism has evolved through several distinct waves, each emerging in response to the prevailing social, political and cultural contexts of its time. The First Wave, spanning the late 19th to early 20th century, centered on the recognition of women as autonomous human beings rather than property . This period saw significant legal victories, such as women securing the right to vote and gaining greater control over their own property and finances, including the ability to open bank accounts in their own names. Second Wave feminism, emerging in the 1960s and lasting through the 1980s, introduced deep discussion about the nature of gender and patriarchal structures. Three main streams emerged: liberal feminism, focusing on institutional change; radical feminism, aiming to dismantle patriarchal structures and cultural feminism, which emphasized a “female essence” distinct from men . This wave was fueled by broader social movements, including civil rights activism, postwar economic changes and growing awareness of gender inequalities in both public and private life. The Third Wave, taking shape in the 1990s and 2000s, broadened the movement, becoming significantly more inclusive of women and girls of color . It was here that intersectionality, a concept developed by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, gained prominence, emphasizing how overlapping identities like race, class and gender create unique experiences of discrimination . This wave arose partly as a response to the limitations of Second Wave feminism, which often centered on the experiences of middle-class white women and sought to account for diverse and intersecting social identities. The Fourth Wave, beginning in the 2010s and continuing today, is characterized by its engagement with digital activism and its focus on issues such as sexual harassment, body image, and rape culture . This wave gained momentum through movements like the Women’s March and the impactful #MeToo movement, which brought global attention to systemic abuse . The rise of social media allowed marginalized voices to mobilize rapidly, creating online spaces for collective action and amplifying the visibility of feminist campaigns worldwide. In essence, feminism has evolved from a concentrated focus on securing fundamental legal and political rights in the First Wave to an expansive, globally connected movement that addresses deeply embedded cultural, systemic and intersecting inequalities today. Because of the digitalization of contemporary feminism, the movement faces a significant paradox: its rapid expansion and increased visibility online have coincided with the rise of a strong anti-feminist backlash. While feminism aspires to inclusivity and the formation of broad social alliances, certain groups, particularly young men, report feelings of exclusion or perceived threat . The anti-feminist sentiment among young men, initially noted in Europe, is equally significant in the United States, where nearly half of Gen Z men now report feeling that men face gender-based discrimination . While this backlash is most acute in Western democracies, a reaction to visible feminist success and shifting economic roles , it is not limited to the West. Instead, the phenomenon is becoming increasingly globalized, as digital forums like the "manosphere" export anti-feminist rhetoric, intersecting with and amplifying local, often politically and religiously motivated, traditionalist movements worldwide . Research by the European Sociological Review suggests that these perceived threats are not only economic, such as competition in the labor market and challenges to traditional male-dominated career paths, but also social and cultural, including fears of losing status, authority, or recognition in shifting gender norms . The study found that young men were most likely to agree that "promoting women's and girls' rights has gone too far because it threatens men's and boys' opportunities" . Consequently, men aged 18 to 29 increasingly interpret progress in women’s rights as diminishing their own prospects for success and social belonging. This perception manifests prominently in digital environments. A report by LLYC found that nearly half of all posts concerning feminism on platform X carry negative sentiment, frequently associated with anti-equality or anti-feminist discourses . Complementary research from King’s College London suggests that online algorithms exacerbate these divisions, contributing to a widening gender polarization among youth . The manosphere, an online network of communities promoting male dominance, has surged as young men experience economic precarity, status anxiety and algorithmic reinforcement of gendered content. The manosphere frequently condones or even encourages violence against women and LGBTQ+ people . Figures like Andrew Tate (former kick‑boxer and influencer) epitomize this trend; his statements (“women belong to the man”) and (“any man who has sex with women because it ‘feels good’ is gay,”) normalize misogyny and attract men seeking clear, assertive identities. Exposure is high: >50 % of men aged 18‑29 report regular contact with misogynistic content, 35 % say it influences them, and 31 % view Tate as a role model . TikTok is the most problematic platform, with 70% of respondents encountering such material . This trend extends beyond social media personalities to political discourse: 61% of Gen Z attribute the rise in misogynistic language to political leaders , with women most frequently naming Donald Trump as key sources . The Gender Equality Index confirms that these dynamics contribute to the normalization of physical and emotional violence among young men in Europe, reflecting persistent structural inequalities . These feelings of threat and exclusion can drive some young men toward figures like Andrew Tate, who offer a clear, assertive male identity and validation for their frustrations . Digital platforms amplify this effect, creating echo chambers where anti-feminist ideologies are normalized and emotional support is tied to these narratives , as illustrated in the film Adolescence . In this way, the appeal of such figures stems not only from ideology but also from a desire for belonging, recognition, and empowerment in a changing social landscape . At the same time, digital platforms, Instagram, TikTok, and X, enable micro-activism (shares, stories, hashtags) that amplify marginalized voices. One notable example is Marley Dias, an American youth activist and founder of the #1000BlackGirlBooks campaign, who uses social media to advocate for diversity in literature and education . Reports by the United Nations Girl’s Education Initiative (UNGEI) and the Global Philanthropy Project show that young activists increasingly use digital tools to push for intersectional justice, often combining feminism with LGBTQ+ and racial equality campaigns. Research also shows that online feminist communities form clusters of like-minded youth, which can empower them . This was powerfully illustrated by the Dutch national movement “Wij eisen de nacht op” (“We Reclaim the Night”) in 2025 after a series of femicides and widespread violence against women . The movement used social media platforms to quickly and widely share information, coordinate large-scale physical demonstrations, and organize successful viral crowdfunding campaigns to fund their efforts. It seamlessly connected viral crowdfunding with mass, offline action, bridging the digital and physical spheres in the fight for gender equality. To all men who don’t feel represented by online misogynist rhetoric and actively seek positive change: I see you. It is crucial to separate extreme misogynist rhetoric from the broader issue of male disengagement. While the manosphere fuels hostility, many men remain silent or indifferent due to cultural constraints and lack of ally‑training. Research highlights multiple barriers to male participation in gender equality work, including limited opportunities, cultural constraints, and insufficient institutional support . Initiatives like #EchtMannelijk (#Truly Masculine) provide education and safe spaces for men to recognize and confront sexism, demonstrating that allyship is possible when structural barriers are addressed . Male allies who adopt an intersectional lens can help bridge divides. By supporting campaigns that address gender, race, class and disability simultaneously, men model shared responsibility and counteract polarization . Feminism in 2025 is a dynamic, digital‑first movement that must confront its paradox: greater inclusivity coexists with heightened backlash. Understanding these complexities is crucial, but awareness alone is insufficient. Meaningful progress requires action, both online and offline. Speak up in conversations, amplify the voices of marginalized communities, challenge stereotypes, and hold institutions accountable. Support campaigns, participate in community projects, or organize local initiatives. Even small actions matter: calling out sexism, sharing educational resources, or mentoring young activists create ripple effects. In 2025, feminism needs active support from all of us: women and men. By turning knowledge into action, we can bridge divides, empower all voices, and work toward a society where equality is not optional but fundamental. The moment to act is now, and every contribution counts. Let’s make equality fundamental. Shall we? This article is part of The Outside World, ftrprf’s very own research center. For organizations, it’s pivotal to thoroughly understand what is happening in society. We help companies generate comprehensive insights into societal change and its potential effects on their strategy and operations, both negative and positive. With actionable societal insights, courageous plans, and a can-do mentality, we connect the outside world to your company's strategy. For these outside-world insights, we use a rigorous methodology that includes data processing, quantitative and qualitative analysis, and a thorough review process to ensure the accuracy and consistency of our findings. For more information, please contact theoutsideworld@ftrprf.com.

2025-11-10

Feminism in 2025: Intersectionality, Digital Activism and Polarization Paradox

When Women Lead: Why Representation Creates Possibilities – but Not Always Transformation