On Female Rage

And so, in the end it was love.

The ceaseless rage, red and hot

Curled in my chest.

Leonene in its quiet, pouncing on

A moment’s notice.

And so hungry.

So I rip him from limb to limb,

Again and again.

He understands nothing of rage nor womanhood.

He is about to.

Then in the end, I don’t regret what I said.

Not the words, not the mirrors

And smoke warning the ways of men.

Blooms Unrealized

The 30th of February brings

Sunlight to the Adirondacks again.

New tears fall, conjuring an ocean from a pond

Because spring has forgotten to bring the 

Promise of new beginnings,

Instead settling with winter’s sharp thistles. 

I watch the writers put pens to paper, 

Drawing the flowers that don’t bloom. 

So this is what the poets prophesized, 

The pond that has become an ocean

And an answer that is in the question.

Gender Quotas in Government

The question of instating legislative gender quotas is a contentious point in the ever evolving feminist landscape. Do they ultimately work to dismantle the structures of the patriarchy, or merely operate within them? I think there is a case to be made that legislative gender quotas in governments are a necessary step in progressing toward true gender equality, under the supplement of additional feminist efforts. When implemented in isolation, gender quotas potentially exist as a means of superficial feminist progress, and even have harmful repercussions. This superficial potential necessitates that gender quotas are instated, and are coupled with additional reform processes that bolster the true purpose of dismantling the patriarchy. 

Gender is inherently codified into the function of institutions. In the function and outcomes of actors on both domestic and international levels, gender is a critical lens of analysis. According to Vivian Lowndes, there are four avenues of analysis in gendered institutions: rules about gender, rules that have gendered effects, gendered actors who work with rules, and gendered policy outcomes (Lowndes, 3). These variables cultivate the structure of gendered institutions as we understand them today. 

Rules about gender can manifest as norms, or as codified laws. The nature of these rules confines people to gendered roles and responsibilities (4). The notion that warfare and politics should be dominated by men, whereas education is a domain for women is an example of such. Rules that instead have gendered effects are not necessarily focused on gender, but the impact of such will be informed by it. Rules of this nature, similar to rules about gender, can be de jure or de facto. The implications of these rules are primarily defined by how they interact with the social context within which they are implemented. For example, where the division of labor intersects with traditionally recognized gender roles, or where the traits of a good leader coincide with what is typically regarded as masculine (5). Gendered actors working with rules implicate both formal and informal laws as byproducts of how the actors exist in a gendered institution. The values embodied by the human agents enacting law and policy inevitably shape them. An example of this is the “masculine advantage”, wherein men are over-represented in certain fields and the subsequent impact of this distribution (6). Gendered outcomes of action refer to outcomes that heavily lean towards favoring a group of people. This is harder to define in practice, given that outcomes that are distinctly and intersectionally beneficial for women are ambiguous. However, this concept is especially applicable in the practice of electing women to office, and the impact of such. Institutional policies, the human agents who enact them, and their outcomes cannot be divorced from gendered influence. Within this framework, how laws (both formal and informal) and institutions impact women are fourfold. This model identifies the extent to which gender is a relevant lens through which political reform should be viewed. 

Over time, these patterns become systemic rather than anecdotal. The distribution of who is in possession of power, and who is unable to access it also becomes systemic dynamics. The ways that institutions shape behavior are predictable. However, there are other factors to contend with. For instance, women as a population are not monolithic. Race, class, religion, etc all intersect with gender to different degrees under patriarchal structure. In turn, there is no singular solution that can be prescribed. Accounting for the needs of one group of women may exclude or perpetuate the oppression of another, thus introducing the dilemma at hand.

Meeting this dynamic set of needs that spans classes, races, and religions requires action that embodies the act of institutionalization, and deinstitutionalization (9). Institutionalization entails how laws (both de jure and de facto) are adopted, and the qualities that reinforce other laws of the same nature. This understanding of exactly how institutions shape gendered laws is critical to reforming them. Deinstitutionalization is a parallel practice that seeks to identify where laws are less likely to fall in favor, or how they “slip” (9). This is an equally significant component of dismantling the male-centric structure. Implementing either process in isolation is unlikely to be successful in practice. These two processes are mechanisms with which different types of power distribution can be accessed. 

Lowndes cites three conventions of institutional rule: obligatory rules, regulatory rules, and persuasive rules (11). Regulatory rules encompass laws that are formally codified. They explain the official requirements of behavior and the punitive consequences of such. Obligatory rules are demonstrated through conduct and observation. These closely resemble the conceptualization of norms, in that they induce reactionary consequences that determine their approval. Persuasive rules, instead outline the context of particular behaviors. They seek to explain and craft a narrative within which these laws are persuasive. 

Social and institutional change is most effective when practices of institutionalization and deinstitutionalization are leveraged against the latter two categories of rules. This is more likely to shift the power dynamics in favor of women when the social narrative aligns with the change endorsed. Many prior courses of action have been unsuccessful for this reason. True institutional change that will benefit women as a whole, rather than a select privileged group, requires several moving parts and processes. Instating an electoral quota is one of them or a means by which these concepts can be bridged. The electoral quota embodies the principles of institutionalization and deinstitutionalization in their most fundamental states. Electing a certain proportion of women in office provides space to design a productive and inclusive framework, as well as offering the practical means with which that can be implemented. In doing so, the pre-existing gendered framework, and the narratives it perpetuates, begin to be dismantled.  

Embodying institutionalization and deinstitutionalization, by instating a quota for women in office, against obligatory and persuasive rules, in turn, grants them access to the domain of regulatory rules. This strategic access does not evade the temporal component of systemic change but uses it to the advantage of feminist progress. 

I acknowledge there are limitations to this perspective. As stated earlier, women are not a monolith, and no such “one size fits all” solution is appropriate or realistic. However, it’s important to reiterate that instating an electoral quota for women in office is not the ultimate benchmark of equality. I think adopting this perspective dispels the majority of the arguments against such a quota. For example, the idea that instating a quota could stir animosity towards women. This is not a legitimate argument when applied in context. The argument essentially poses a byproduct of the system of oppression that is already in place to counter a means of feminist reform. The argument is circular, given that the animosity towards women in question is produced by the very circumstances feminist efforts seek to dismantle. 

I think a case could be made about the nature of the democracy such a quota advocates for. In theory, any citizen has the opportunity to be elected into office. The implication is that the officials elected are representative of the will of the people, and what they stand for. However, this doesn’t fully account for the deep systemic impacts of sexism and misogyny. Women running for office are still vulnerable to the gendered effects of rules (as referenced earlier). The political space is still one dominated by men, primarily because of the persisting gendered ideas and outcomes created by the system we are seeking to dismantle. Furthermore, women face other gendered barriers that are “invisible” to men, such as limited maternity leave and access to childcare. Would a democracy run entirely by men not raise the same concern? That possibility doesn’t appear to threaten the patriarchy. Simply put, the claim that a quota on women elected into office is somehow antithetical to real democracy only subverts focus from the real concern. 

Ideally, the burden of dismantling the patriarchy would not rest on the shoulders of the women already oppressed by the system. However, the current system necessitates that the burden of enacting social change rests on the shoulders of the marginalized group. This very issue is part of the larger whole to be overhauled. Feminism, and how this social movement is actualized will not always be palatable to men. In the absence of support from the oppressor, social reform shouldn’t be halted. There are courses of reform that will inherently be divisive or controversial, especially when the status quo has been stagnant for so long. However, this burden is impossible to shift by remaining complacent to such. As referenced earlier, appealing to persuasive rules through women elected into office is a strategic means of changing the narrative. The distribution of emotional labor is another byproduct of the system.

When bolstered in context with simultaneous efforts to dismantle the patriarchal system, instating an electoral quota on women elected to office is a course of action that every country should require. It cannot be emphasized enough that implementing this quota, by itself, is a superficial extension of feminist progress. The idea of the quota must be coupled with efforts to remove invisible barriers women face in the workforce (affordable childcare options, substantial paid maternity leave, etc). Additionally, efforts that target the oppression of various intersectional populations of women are also necessitated. For example, policies creating better economic security, reformed immigration, and improving gender-based violence are all integral to the success of dismantling the patriarchy.

Implementing an electoral quota for women elected into office is ultimately a necessary step in dismantling the patriarchy, and true reform. This legislative representation must be accompanied by processes of reform that enact intersectional change on a systemic level. However, it remains a critical step towards future equality that should be implemented globally. True equality cannot be guaranteed in the absence of codifying principles of feminism’s endgame.

Works Cited

Lowndes, Vivien. “How Are Political Institutions Gendered?” Political Studies, vol. 68, no. 3, 29 Aug. 2019, p. 003232171986766, https://doi.org/10.1177/0032321719867667.

On New Beginnings

How do we anchor ourselves when we are truly unmoored from where we used to belong? I’m an international student in the United States. I grew up in Southern Africa, which is where I spent the entirety of my formative years and completed my education. Like many to come before me, pursuing higher education in the United States was one of the only viable options I had at my disposal. Though that was not a decision taken lightly, I don’t think any of us are ever equipped to truly stand in the face of the absolute unknown. And so, our story begins in my first college class, thousands of miles away from home. 

The room was small, but the furniture stretched along the walls, making it feel infinite. The benches curved in on one another, snaking around the center of the room. The professor began right on time, his booming voice abruptly disrupting the thick silence. All at once, comparative politics was in session. We each had a note card, and the same question to answer: what makes a country feel secure, safe? I didn’t know then, and I still don’t know. But like everyone, my answer was a thoughtful commentary on what I do know. And maybe, in the between the lines, it was thoughtless commentary on what I didn’t know. We were asked to share our answers with the people around us. E, to my right, offered his list first. Though, it wasn’t a list so much as a conversation on whether he would prefer direct or semi-direct democracy. To my left, a girl with red hair chirped that the constitution of her country would have an evolutionary component, shifting as time elapsed and the future arrived. A third voice cited a modification to the Second Amendment, a clause I’ve come to understand is especially controversial. Their voices swirled around me, hot and cold all at once. Syllables and fragments and jargon swishing back and forth, like a little kid learning how to swallow juice. I looked at my own little note card. The first word on mine was water. “I took the prompt in a different direction,” four sets of eyes turned to meet mine. “More, foundational I guess. Secure water and food supply, those fundamental resources. I think that’s an aspect of stability, don’t you think?”

I don’t pretend to be a revolutionary. But, as the group transcribed my comments onto our collaborative note card, there it was. Evidence I existed, that I had been there in that moment. Beyond that, evidence that I had made a metaphysical scuff on this floor where thousands have walked before me. At the end of it all, I think that’s the purest humanness. That defiant little smudge in the fabric of space and time, loudly declaring we are here and for a second we were eternal. Is that what we do, as people? If we are not witnessed, do we continue to drift aimlessly? Maybe both, or neither. Maybe that’s too simplistic of an analysis, but I am not the woman I was when I left home, with the confidence of someone who had never seen much of the world outside her. Nor am I the meek woman who arrived in the United States, drifting aimlessly like a ship with no place to dock. Somewhere after these versions, a third appears in E’s untidy scrawl on our note card. The first glimmer of who I will become, actualized on paper. That’s what we’re searching for, I think, in every medium. Evidence that we exist and will continue to exist, over and over again. 

On Pascal’s Wager

Pascal introduces an unconventional approach to the question of whether god exists. Pascal poses the inaugural notion that all information regarding the divine is inaccessible to humans, due to the scale of our separation. Having drawn this initial premise, he elucidates that the probability of God’s existence, which remains inaccessible to us, is comparable to the flip of a coin. These odds form the basis of the titular wager. This is not a strong claim, or at least is not a logical conclusion to form based on the premise.

Pascal presents the first premise of the wager in comparison to infinite numbers. He compares divinity to infinity, in that the concept is recognizable to us but intangible. We cannot impose upon infinity by adding or subtracting from it. The nature of the divine, according to Pascal, operates in the same manner. We cannot access any tangible information on divine being but rather develop peripheral concepts and actions. Pascal also emphasizes that though choices remain subjective to individuals, the nature of God’s existence is a forced one. Every person must commit to an answer, refusing to do so is impossible.

Having established that we are without means of discerning divine existence, Pascal assigns the odds to 50/50. In this instance, he suggests that the benefits and drawbacks of belief in God can be reduced to infinite gain and finite loss. In the circumstance that God does exist, the believer is a candidate for infinite gain, while the nonbeliever is a candidate for finite loss. In the reciprocal circumstance, wherein God does not exist, both lose nothing. Pascal underscores these chances by posing the ultimate question; why not bet on God? He insists that in the face of this wager, God’s existence is the choice to stake everything on.

I remain unconvinced. The theory leaves too many possibilities unaccounted for. Though that is not necessarily grounds to discredit an entire theory, it certainly contends with the idea of God’s existence as a gamble. The first issue is we cannot assume that God accepts the terms of this wager. On account of the massive discrepancies in nature proposed by Pascal, we also cannot engage with these terms meaningfully. In the case God exists, we do not have the access or foresight to determine where infinite gain and finite loss are assigned, if at all. This logical lacuna raises the primary concern with the wager.

Pascal undermines his own logic almost immediately upon assigning the outcomes. If we are to underscore the premise that the divine is, by nature, inaccessible, then we are in no position to assign probability and later consequences in the extension of our fictitious probability. We have no reason to perceive belief and gain as dialectical concepts, when in fact they may be antithetical to one another. This idea is merely a projection of our own societal functioning, where positive behavior is rewarded, and the opposite is punished. Though those outcomes are logical in practice, we can’t apply them to the nature of God and belief. We have no evidence, and will be unable to procure any, in the case that the premises are true. To reiterate, given the inaugural premise, we are in no position to assign any outcomes at all. We never will be. If the premises are true, there cannot be an argument to follow. Unfortunately, the premises must also be the conclusion if they are to be true.

In this case, Pascal’s original argument is also the objection. The most significant portion of which, boils down to the idea that there is nothing to lose by believing in God. The possibility of infinite gain should always be the right choice when measured against a loss that will be less significant. Once more, in order to enact this pragmatic approach, one should have or be able to access the terms of the wager. Even in the face of this pragmatic logic, we are still unable to assign probable outcomes given the premises. The wager itself is a false one.

I think there is a stronger objection to be made, not in the critique of the wager, but rather in the nature of the critique. It’s worth evaluating biblical premises, and where they intersect with our need for belief. The bible lays out the justice system as we understand it, in the most simplistic form. Good is rewarded, and bad is punished. God is the ultimate judge or cosmic arbiter. In the circumstance where God cannot offer a beneficial outcome to satisfy the archetype we created, God is no longer a functional actor. Perhaps we need this logic to be sound, we need God to adhere to the terms as prescribed by Pascal so as not to undermine our own understanding of morality and consequence. What I mean to say here is that we stand to benefit from accepting this wager. Biblical structures have shaped Western morality for centuries, specifically the dialectical relationship between good behavior and rewards. The narrative is a convenient one, that we don’t stand to benefit from in the case of its unraveling. Abandoning critique of this wager is beneficial to bolstering and profiting from the behavior/reward relationship. Regardless, the larger implication of morality and behavior in society is not a factor in the extension and application of these premises. My original point remains in the face of both objections. Should the premises be true, there is no argument to follow. The premises must also be the conclusion.

Pascal’s wager is not a strong argument, nor should it be presented as one. Though the premises are sound, they do not allow for any logical extension. Pascal’s premises undermine the rhetoric to follow. Though the wager is a hypothetical one, it can be a misguided or guilt-inducing lens to view religion through. It sets a trap, where beliefs that may develop over a lifetime, under the influence of infinite factors and experiences, become a forced decision. People deserve to cultivate such deeply personal beliefs with ideas that are more nuanced than random probabilities assigned to a wager, and those beliefs should be encouraged to evolve over time. It is imperative to underscore critical thinking here, so as not to fall into the trap of the wager.

On Anarchy

The state of nature, as conceptualized by political philosopher Thomas Hobbes, has played a fundamental role in shaping political social contract theories. The premise of the state of nature has become a safeguard against anarchic descent and has evolved to represent the sole justification of the state as an institution. In deconstructing this hypothetical condition, and critically examining the accuracy of Hobbes’ depiction, it’s worth asking if this imaginary may be faulted. In challenging this conventional understanding through the lens of political friendship, as proposed by Danielle Allen, emerges the broader question: does any satisfactory justification for the existence of the state exist?

Hobbes’ conceptualization of the state of nature serves to explain the hypothetical condition of society in the absence of a political state. The state of nature is one of chaos, and conflict that is both elicited and perpetuated by the material principles of humanity. The motivations of individuals are predisposed toward self-preservation and pursuit of their own interests. In the absence of government, or hierarchy in this hypothetical condition, the defining traits of this state are those of distrust, threat of violence, and scarce resources. In short, society in this form elicits “war of every man against every man”(Hobbes, 4). To circumvent this state of inevitable chaos, Hobbes posits the creation of the commonwealth. This commonwealth operates under centralized power that is subverted to an arbiter to enforce the social contract, maintain social order, and contain the descent into anarchy.

This argument is unsatisfactory to me. In part, because it’s simply untrue. The construction of the state of nature, and ultimately the inciting premise that necessitates centralized authority, is upheld by the notion that we cannot place trust in other human beings. I

don’t think that reasoning is convincing. Interpersonal human relationships already occur in the natural world. The bond between a mother and her baby, for example. In such a case, not only is it possible to rely on another human being, but we are biologically inclined to do so. A case, I believe, could also be made for friendship, or caring for elders. The capacity for both depending on and providing for others is embedded in our biological data. Humans, as a race, could not survive if the biological structure Hobbes imposes is founded in reality.

The claim is, in part, also problematic because of how it is operationalized. Hobbes’ foundational claim capitalizes off a poor conception of humanity, and profits from distrust. It creates the dilemma of mistrust and then structures the solution through the operation of the state. The dilemma itself, and the principles it is founded upon are false. To assume brutish chaos and violence as the logical extension of society imposes a massive narrative lacuna. The cause and effect, to which the solution of the state is presented, are not necessarily correlated at all.

In the face of this anarchy problem, it’s worth considering if relationships can be constructed around the horizontal social structure that anarchy affords, built on trust. Danielle Allen, a political theorist, offers a criticism of Hobbes’ state of nature, and an alternative conceptualization of interpersonal political relationships. Her work centers on the philosophical and practical domains of where political relationships shape democratic society. Political friendship, according to Allen, focuses on a shared commitment among citizens to the common good and the principles of justice. She makes the claim that cultivating strong relationships through practicing respect and cooperation is an imperative function for democratic society. Through political friendship, individuals practice reconciling differences in opinion, and building fundamental trust. This condition of interpersonal relationships must be satisfied to collectively address societal challenges. It should be noted that Allen’s philosophy is not a prescription for

friendship in the sense of personal affection, but rather the fundamental understanding of mutual respect and compassion for one another in a broader context.

In the context and practice of modern democratic governance, allegiance to the state is a lifelong practice that sustains the foundation of such. Insofar as placing trust in the state that it will enact policy with the well-being of the citizens in mind, the citizens have little choice but to trust. Hobbes’ construction of the commonwealth reproduces this concept, wherein the peaceful state is maintained under the condition of relinquishing absolute authority. However, as Allen recognizes, this should be cause of skepticism. Marginalized groups and electoral minorities have historically been victims of sustained systemic violence. This structural imbalance of power has endured for centuries, rendering the minority group to understand their circumstances as those of ill affection. According to Allen “Only four outcomes are possible: (a) distrust of the electoral majority will be dissolved and converted into trust; (b) the group will leave the polity; or (d) the group will be retained by repressive acts of state force” (Allen). In the circumstance these options are not satisfied, because the majority distrusts the minority, the latter group is vulnerable to expulsion or eradication. Simply put, the contemporary and historical conditions that have shaped democracy also structure the system to favor select groups of people. Democratic governance, as outlined by Hobbes and the philosophers who anteceded him, relies on civil allegiance to the state that should not be given. These circumstances necessitate the alternative proposed by Allen.

It could be argued that political friendship is not a philosophy that can be practically embodied on a larger scale. It would be impossible to foster a personally respectful and trusting relationship with every other individual on the face of the planet. It could also be argued that

there is something to the quality of the political friendships we foster. One could not possibly expend energy cultivating mutual trust and respect with every other individual they interact with. By some means, one’s capacity for embodying this practice will have to be distributed. In the case one must delegate their capacity for tolerance, the individual may do so according to the biases they are predisposed towards. What I mean to say is that on a large enough scale, even the practice of political friendship is susceptible to enacting systemic violence

However, it’s worth considering a rebuttal to this objective, where cooperation succeeds on an international level. The international system and international relations already operate on a refined model of anarchy. The international system already functions in a structure wherein centralized power is notably absent. Sovereign states operate in an environment that is dependent on cooperation to pursue individual interests. States rely on capacity, resources, alliances, and diplomacy to actualize national goals and values. Take, for example, the security dilemma. The security dilemma is a concept in international relations wherein a state actor’s efforts to bolster its security are perceived as a threat by others. In response, surrounding states move to secure their own interests through militaristic investment, thus creating a cyclical narrative of mutual distrust and security measures that become increasingly competitive. This dynamic is an example of where the “state of nature” logic fails in application, and results in escalated tensions and vulnerability to conflict as states respond to potential security threats. In turn, applying principles of trust and cooperation already elicits political success on a global scale. On an international scale, the same principles of political friendship actively dismantle the fundamental security concerns within an anarchical system. That is to say, political friendship and the principles it embodies are not limited to the enactment of individuals. The principles can, and should, be applied to relations between any group of actors. It’s possible to weave themes of political

friendship into functional relationships at all levels of society, rather than a “bottom-up” projection that only predicts symptoms of distrust.

The dissection of Hobbes’ state of nature, and its application to the justification of the state necessitates a critical reevaluation. The state of nature is not only faulty in construction, by excluding the interpersonal relationships that biologically and socially develop over a lifetime, but also by capitalizing on the assumption of inherent human distrust to justify the state as a buffer against anarchy. This argument is not satisfactory, because it is dependent on a misconstructed view of human nature that both creates and capitalizes off distrust. Through the analytical lens of political friendship as an alternative framework that prioritizes shared commitment to the common good, and fostering mutually respectful relationships between citizens, the justification of the state crumbles.

The broader question, of course, remains unaddressed: in the face of Hobbes’ disintegrating argument, is there any justification for the state? The final judgment remains at the discretion of the reader. However, through the framework and claims of this essay, it appears that in practicing political friendship, the state becomes obsolete. An anarchical state would not automatically elicit the brutish chaos of Hobbes’ imagination, nor the relationships stained by hollow distrust.. The principles of political friendship should be embedded in new social structures that fully serve every member of the population, and exist outside the parameters of misconstructed social contracts.

Works Cited

Allen, Danielle. “Turning Strangers into Political Friends.” In These Times, 22 Dec. 2004, inthesetimes.com/article/turning-strangers-into-political-friends. Accessed 16 Dec. 2023.

Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan. 1651.