I certainly suggest folks read my friend Dana Goldstein's article on why Gail Collins, the retiring editor of The New York Times op-ed page, didn't do more for women in punditry. Dana takes the moment to meditate on the sorry state of women in political journalism. As she knows all too well from hanging out with the DC punditry set, to suggest our profession lacks gender equity is to wonder about vegetarian entrees at a steakhouse. Dana's argument is, in effect, to push the spotlight away from magazine staffs and towards elections:
Journalism is essentially an observational profession, and it makes sense that many women writers feel detached from a political world that not only showcases very few women, but also relegates “women's issues” (these days, anything domestic in both senses of the word, whether public education, health care, issues of work-life balance, or student debt) to second-class status.
Indeed, we remind ourselves far too infrequently that the number of women in positions of national power remains miniscule, and that this affects what issues we debate when we write about “politics.” Women comprise just 15.1 percent of Congress and 22.8 percent of state legislatures. Of the 100 largest American cities, only 12 have female mayors. Just four of President Bush's 15 cabinet members are women. There are only 8 female governors. Only one woman of color has ever served in the U.S. Senate.
That last graph is a grotesque reminder of how unequal our society is and remains. I will say, however, that Dana is playing fast-and-loose with the definition of "women's issues." Health care, education and student-debt are just about never grouped into that category. That's why I've always found the descriptor so chafing: The very term "women's issues" suggests that other issue areas don't affect women -- a self-evidently absurd and indefensible position. Women's issues aren't women's issues, they're just issues men have decided not to care about, or rigged the game so they don't have to care about. Abortion, work-life balance, and child care are good examples. Health care, student debt, and education are not, and the proof comes in their perennial presidential relevance: Bush ran on No Child Left Behind, Clinton on health care.
As for whether the lack of women in elected office deters women from entering punditry, I fall with the explanations of Amy Sullivan, Maureen Down, Schoolgirls. The answer comes not in campaigns, but classrooms, and even nursery rooms -- the whole culture of socialization that breeds boys to spout out their opinions and girls to demurely tuck their own away. Sexism accounts for a certain amount of the disparity in both progressive punditry and electoral politics (more in the latter than the former, I'd argue), but having looked at The Prospect's applicant pools, I know the number of female applicants is routinely far, far lower than male applicants. It's not all sexism. There are problems far before our editors get in a room and look over resumes.
One last, more personal anecdote: The people in this town, and particularly in this profession, are argumentative outliers. They are more brash, and loud, and opinionated then just about anyone you've ever met. Having always been the loudest debater in the room, I was stunned to get here and be easily talked over. This profession attracts -- and rewards -- a very anomalistic personality type, one who thinks that, at 22, there's no reason they shouldn't critique politicians and argue with learned and famed elders (my understanding is that the gender gap is much smaller is reported news). So if most guys are raised to have X amount of confidence in their opinions, and women are raised to have X-2, that's going to create a huge disparity.
But confidence is taught. When my girlfriend and I met, she wasn't used to folks throwing down the argumentative gauntlet for any disagreement, and taking delight in the resulting heated debate. Now she'll routinely kick my ass. Which is why, in the end, I come down with Ann Friedman: For all the concerned chatter, the only way to change this is to change it, and create byline quotas in the profession. The excuses are too manifold -- and too convincing -- for the problem to be solved, and for editors to reach outside their comfort zone, without a concrete commitment. When they do, they'll find that what hasn't been taught, can be. Complaining about socialization may be correct, but it isn't particularly helpful.
