Ending all-male panels is not tokenism

Public debate is in a bad way when efforts aimed at achieving a better gender balance can be dismissed.

The debate about the lack of women in public life has been reignited by poor female representation at last week’s gathering of the world’s financial, political and media elite in Davos. Just 17 per cent of delegates and only a quarter of panel speakers at the annual schmooze fest were women. Earlier this month Rebecca Rosen, at the Atlantic, suggested that men should sign up to a pledge not to speak on all-male panels after another technology conference featured an all-male line up. Rosen’s ‘panel pledge’ received a stream of abuse and she faced accusations of tokenism.

Public debate is in a bad way when getting a better gender balance can be dismissed like this. After all, these are not symbolic attempts to give the appearance of sexual equality, but efforts to ensure that half the population is represented in influential discussions that shape economic and political priorities with a direct impact on people’s lives. And while it is sadly true that there are fewer women in top positions to choose from – this cannot be an excuse to exclude women from public debates altogether.

While Rosen’s panel pledge generated much heat in the US, similar appeals have been made in the UK. A prominent group of women recently challenged the organisers of a number of apparently ‘men only’ Westminster-based events, highlighting for example a debate on the impact of the recession and spending cuts (which will hit women hardest)which featured no female speakers. Meanwhile, a series of Policy Fight Club debates (complete with macho red and blue corners) attracted attention when they featured three all-male line ups on the EU, legalising drugs and Scottish independence with as many as six guest speakers (including chairs)on the panel (hard to believe in this case they had tried but failed to secure women speakers).

Of course this has to change. But who exactly is responsible? Should men being invited to speak in public debates refuse to do so unless there is a woman on the panel? Should audiences boycott events with all male line-ups?

Refusing to take part in an all-male panel is not without its dilemmas, but as one man who is a panel regular suggests men can at least ask whether the line-up is likely to be all-male and suggest some women alternatives or decline to take part if there is no good justification. And while we shouldn’t place an unfair burden on event organisers, few buy the idea there are not enough talented women equipped to speak on almost any area of public life. So if organisations in politics, media, business and civil society aim to contribute to the public debate, they should think first about whether they are including a properly mixed range of voices in discussions.

This includes Westminster-based organisations like the think tank, IPPR, where I work. Particularly in areas like economics, relying on existing networks can lead to the same male, pale and stale debates. Changing this, as IPPR is now committed to doing, means seeking out new and more diverse voices and having a greater appetite for risk in bringing new voices to debates. At heart it is no more complicated than that. For the status quo to really change however, holding a large event with no women speakers will need to start being seen as a reputational risk.

The other question, of course, is whether this is a problem of women not being asked or not being able to participate. It is not always as easy for women to drop domestic duties for an after-work TV appearance or overseas conference, so many women who would like to take part find themselves having to say no. As long as women have primary responsibility for care, particularly childcare, this is unlikely to change.

Some may ask why we should stop at all-male panels. Why not challenge the appalling absence of ethnic and class diversity on panels and in public life, when last year’s census data showed the proportion of the population that is white has now fallen to 86 per cent? The answer is that we should. This can open up closed networks and enrich our politics, which is exactly what we need if we are to engage more people in the public debates they feel so alienated from. If this is tokenism, I’m all for it.

Just 17 per cent of delegates and only a quarter of panel speakers at Davos were women. Photograph: Getty Images.

Clare McNeil is a senior research fellow at IPPR.

Twitter: @claremcneil1

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Labour's establishment suspects a Momentum conspiracy - they're right

Bernie Sanders-style organisers are determined to rewire the party's machine.  

If you wanted to understand the basic dynamics of this year’s Labour leadership contest, Brighton and Hove District Labour Party is a good microcosm. On Saturday 9 July, a day before Angela Eagle was to announce her leadership bid, hundreds of members flooded into its AGM. Despite the room having a capacity of over 250, the meeting had to be held in three batches, with members forming an orderly queue. The result of the massive turnout was clear in political terms – pro-Corbyn candidates won every position on the local executive committee. 

Many in the room hailed the turnout and the result. But others claimed that some in the crowd had engaged in abuse and harassment.The national party decided that, rather than first investigate individuals, it would suspend Brighton and Hove. Add this to the national ban on local meetings and events during the leadership election, and it is easy to see why Labour seems to have an uneasy relationship with mass politics. To put it a less neutral way, the party machine is in a state of open warfare against Corbyn and his supporters.

Brighton and Hove illustrates how local activists have continued to organise – in an even more innovative and effective way than before. On Thursday 21 July, the week following the CLP’s suspension, the local Momentum group organised a mass meeting. More than 200 people showed up, with the mood defiant and pumped up.  Rather than listen to speeches, the room then became a road test for a new "campaign meetup", a more modestly titled version of the "barnstorms" used by the Bernie Sanders campaign. Activists broke up into small groups to discuss the strategy of the campaign and then even smaller groups to organise action on a very local level. By the end of the night, 20 phonebanking sessions had been planned at a branch level over the following week. 

In the past, organising inside the Labour Party was seen as a slightly cloak and dagger affair. When the Labour Party bureaucracy expelled leftwing activists in past decades, many on went further underground, organising in semi-secrecy. Now, Momentum is doing the exact opposite. 

The emphasis of the Corbyn campaign is on making its strategy, volunteer hubs and events listings as open and accessible as possible. Interactive maps will allow local activists to advertise hundreds of events, and then contact people in their area. When they gather to phonebank in they will be using a custom-built web app which will enable tens of thousands of callers to ring hundreds of thousands of numbers, from wherever they are.

As Momentum has learned to its cost, there is a trade-off between a campaign’s openness and its ability to stage manage events. But in the new politics of the Labour party, in which both the numbers of interested people and the capacity to connect with them directly are increasing exponentially, there is simply no contest. In order to win the next general election, Labour will have to master these tactics on a much bigger scale. The leadership election is the road test. 

Even many moderates seem to accept that the days of simply triangulating towards the centre and getting cozy with the Murdoch press are over. Labour needs to reach people and communities directly with an ambitious digital strategy and an army of self-organising activists. It is this kind of mass politics that delivered a "no" vote in Greece’s referendum on the terms of the Eurozone bailout last summer – defying pretty much the whole of the media, business and political establishment. 

The problem for Corbyn's challenger, Owen Smith, is that many of his backers have an open problem with this type of mass politics. Rather than investigate allegations of abuse, they have supported the suspension of CLPs. Rather than seeing the heightened emotions that come with mass mobilisations as side-effects which needs to be controlled, they have sought to joins unconnected acts of harassment, in order to smear Jeremy Corbyn. The MP Ben Bradshaw has even seemed to accuse Momentum of organising a conspiracy to physically attack Labour MPs.

The real conspiracy is much bigger than that. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving, enthusiastic and determined, into the Labour party. These people, and their ability to convince the communities of which they are a part, threaten Britain’s political equilibrium, both the Conservatives and the Labour establishment. When the greatest hope for Labour becomes your greatest nightmare, you have good call to feel alarmed.