To mark International Women’s Day, I decided to attempt a conversation about feminism with my wife. I reproduce it, or a version of it, here. I should say that I offered her the chance to write her own words, but she declined, reminding me of her low opinion of journalism. You can ventriloquise me, she said — isn’t that the sort of thing you claim to be quite good at? To put my opening words in context, I had just brought her a cup of tea in bed.
Me: I know it’s early in the morning, but what is feminism?
Wife: Go on then.
Me: What?
Wife: I suppose you have some new theory you want to tell me about. Go on then, let’s see where you’ve got to.
Me: Well, OK. I was thinking, feminism seems to be a mix of two things. It’s a movement that opposes sexism, that wants certain political and cultural changes.
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