'Life and Style', and the myth of women's journalism

For all the lefty-liberal and progressive qualities of The Guardian, there is one element of its online design that seems oddly archaic, and a little unsettling. In the grand scheme of women's rights it isn't exactly at the forefront of our problems, but nevertheless it strikes me as odd, and got me thinking. My question is this: why, oh why, is the women's section of the newspaper tucked away in 'Life and Style'? 

'Life and Style' is a weirdly nebulous part of any news or magazine publication, generally containing high quality photographs of the latest fashionable pan-something dish, pseudo-scientific articles on whether vitamins actually work, and passionate arguments for why this new style of yoga really will change your life. The sections tend to be a mix of tips and trends, with a pinch of celeb gossip and the occasional link to dating sites and the like. I don't mean to describe these features pejoratively; they form light reading in most newspapers and they are what they are. It's just that they don't exactly fall under hard hitting news, unlike a lot of the pieces that are featured in the 'Women' sub-section. The Guardian tabs (see below) arguably suggest that the Women sub-section contains articles that are only as important as those of 'Fashion' or 'Food', or if we were to be really fussy (and why shouldn't we be) suggest that they are less important, due to their placing. Just as Culture and Sport come after the News on the main page, Women come after other more significant sections. 

It should be said at this point that a) I love The Guardian, and b) it's certainly not the only publication guilty of struggling to find an apt place for a women's section. Although The Telegraph place their Women section alongside the other main sections of the newspaper, the frankly hilarious page title "Wonder Women" is suggestive of an ideal readership of multi-tasking, stiletto wearing power Mums shouting "I can have it all!", baby monitor in one hand and Blackberry in the other. That may have been a bit of a tirade, but it's more than a little patronising, and Theresa May was staring from under the headlines at me during writing so I was immediately ticked off. In comparison to the Daily Mail's 'Femail', both The Telegraph and The Guardian are positively saintly in their representation of women - at least both contain comment pieces on the most important women's issues of the moment, i.e. online sexism, female campaigns. As we can see in the snapshot below, the Femail section contains a huge advert for WeightWatchers (you are too fat, Femail readers), an article about Gwyneth Paltrow, and the new trend of nipple surgery. 

At least The Guardian do not automatically assume that its female readers will be interested in babies and weddings, or for that matter, assume that readers of the opposite gender will not. The Mail however seem to be using their Femail section to perpetuate and encode a stereotype of womanhood that many female journalists are explicitly fighting against. 

It is perhaps not the paper that's the problem, but the idea of a "women's section" to begin with - a place for female journalism, directed at female readers. Criticising a space for women to share their views and read about issues affecting them may sound a little counter-intuitive, but the fact is, this kind of marginalisation is outdated. Thirty years ago a women's section would have been a breakthrough in the media, and rightly so, but surely we are now living in an age where women's news is mainstream news, the subjects important to everyone regardless of gender. For example, within The Guardian's women section is a subsection for feminism - a movement now commonly regarded to be the business of anyone who cares for equal rights, no matter what sex they are or which gender they identify with. 

To be fair to The Guardian their stories can be tagged under any section, as former Guardian IA Martin Belam kindly pointed out to me, and there is a subsection for women under News. However, the branch of Life and Style still sends out a bad message. Although it may initially seem strange when newspapers and magazines don't have a women's section, it actually means that stories which could be interpreted as by females and for females have actually been assimilated into the mainstream sections and editorials to which they belong. Before writing this piece I (being a complete wannabe journo-geek) asked feminist author and writer Laurie Penny for her opinion on the matter, to which she gave a crackingly succinct response, noting that these type of sections cover 

"'Women's-issues journalism' or, as I like to call it, 'journalism'."

And therein lies the whole point of this issue - there is no such thing as women's journalism. Indeed, articles such as the many recent ones on Twitter abuse, misogyny and campaigns such as No More Page Three are of as much importance to men as they are to women, and in many cases are supported by men as well as women. These issues are universal, and so maybe newspapers should consider treating them as such.

Malala Yousafzai: the 16 year old girl fighting for education

Roughly nine months ago, I wrote a piece about the attempted murder of Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousafzai. She was shot at on her way to school by Taliban militants because of her campaign for girls' education and was subsequently flown to Britain for emergency surgery and rehabilitation. Despite her undisputed bravery and dedicated fight for social justice, Malala's future was uncertain. Unable to return to Pakistan for fear of a repeated attack but unlikely to give up her battle, the question remained - could Malala change a nation?

Yesterday, on her 16th birthday, Malala gave a speech at the United Nations that firmly answered that question. "The terrorists thought that they would change my aims and stop my ambitions," she said, "but nothing changed in my life, except this: weakness, fear and hopelessness died. Strength, power and courage was born." Less than a year after undergoing brain surgery, relocating to the United Kingdom and dealing with the repercussions of an assassination attempt, Malala stood amongst world leaders and her peers to let them know that her campaign was not over, and that just as before, education is her chief concern. "One child, one teacher, one pen and one book can change the world. Education is the only solution. Education first."

Schools in Pakistan continue to exist in peril; establishments all over the country are under constant pressure from the Taliban - the threat of violence then discourages parents from sending their children to school, which perpetuates the association of education with fear. Just under a month ago in Quetta, 14 girls were killed by a bus explosion on their way to university, with militants then laying siege to the hospital that the wounded were being treated in. Though Malala has become the face of Pakistani female education rights, it is clear now that her story is one of many incidents of terror and murder throughout the country. The culture of fear is so strong that it has even forced some members of Malala's own community to distance themselves from the girl, out of concern that their children will suffer from similar attacks. However, Malala herself aspires to be the voice for those who do not have one, and it appears that no amount of adversity or threat will change that.

In her address at the UN, Malala focused not only on education in Pakistan, but the provision and implementation of educational policy worldwide. A Unesco and Save the Children studyreleased to coincide with the speech shows that 57 million children are currently out of school, and that attempts to rectify this incredible number have come to a "virtual standstill." Unsurprisingly, half of the primary school aged children out of school live in conflict affected countries. This correlation was noted by Malala in her speech, as she stated, "We are really tired of these wars." The simple collective pronoun spoke for every child forced to grow up in a war zone, every girl denied rights because of her gender, and every child facing hundreds of different wars on a daily basis. This wasn't just a speech about free education for all, but rather a message to all world leaders - strategic policies must change if we are ever to protect children against violence and conflict, let alone offer them the education they are entitled to.

The battle for a basic right to education is a simple wish made daunting by the prospect of cultural, financial and political opposition. Despite this, Malala's petition to UN Secretary General Ban-Ki Moon asks that "the United Nations General Assembly fund new teachers, schools, books and recommit to getting every girl and boy in school by December 2015." It's an ambitious goal - 44% of the uneducated children in conflict zones are from sub-Saharan Africa, and 14% are from the Arab states. If the recent incidents in Egypt, Libya and Syria, and the ongoing conflict in the Middle East are anything to go by, Malala and her supporters will be facing an uphill struggle. In addition to the political issues, there is also the cultural opposition which is arguably far more difficult to remedy. Practices such as early-marriage and frequent gender violence are some of the key preventatives to women receiving an education - it is estimated that women represent two thirds of the 775 million illiterates in the world.

These numbers are intimidating, the task seemingly impossible, but at the helm of the campaign we have a 16 year old girl whose experiences speak of both intimidation and impossibility. This is just the beginning of one of the most important worldwide campaigns at present. In my first article on Malala, I questioned whether the attack would "spur her on", or whether it would convince her of the danger in her task. The following words taken from her speech are perhaps the only way to answer that question: "The Taliban thought the bullet would silence us, but they failed."

This article was originally published in the Cherwell's online edition.

It's not just a TV show, it's a project!

Despite the amazing availability of television online, at locations both legal and illegal, the box set is making a comeback. The Guardian recently launched a ‘Box Set Club’, and sales keep rising: from the nostalgia of rewatching old Frasier seasons to the excitement of a spanky American drama you’d otherwise have to track down on an obscure Sky channel, we can’t get enough. We want TV on our own terms, and we’re bored of squinting into our undersized laptop screens. Enter the DVD.

In my mind, television is the purest form of procrastination. It is the truest, harking back to an age when we didn’t even know what procrastination was, we just knew that the natural thing to do when returning from school was switch on the kids channel and be sucked in to that unnaturally shiny world.Now, with the advent of iPlayer, 4oD and other on-demand resources, we can watch snippets of television whenever we like. A Peep Show here, an episode of Africa there; it all add sup. However, there is an alternative to procrastaTV which feels oddly guiltless, and that my friends, is the box set.

Buying a box set is like the procrastinator’s version of putting a downpayment on a Ford Focus. It is a commitment, you have made an investment, and sitting watching 40 hours ofWest Wing suddenly has a greater meaning. You have a project, much like taking up a new hobby or completing your degree.It is pre-meditated viewing, designed for those who missed something the first time round, those who’ve read an insightful article about the moral integrity of [insert-gritty-drama-here] or for those who insist on blogging a review of every single episode.

It is no coincidence that their popularity is on the up during a time of Big Important Dramas. They are often American, extremely well crafted and they just look bloody cool. As do their boxes. Whoever thought of spreading out the logo of a show across several DVDs was a genius. It means I have to complete the set. I have to have every series of House.

American drama in particular has dominated in recent years, and its continued success can be seen in the recent revival of shows such as The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and The West Wing on Sky Atlantic. They are still being talked about, compared to, sourced from, and thus people continue to buy them years after their airing. One of the reasons shiny American drama like The Wire is so engaging is that it’s completely alienating. With highly paced colloquial language, grit-cop jargon and no flashbacks or catch-ups, you’re required be completely engaged for five whole series. These slow-burning, novelistic dramas require a satisfying sort of dedication, meaning the payoff is far greater at the end. It takes a while, but on the upside my inner voice is now that of a Baltimore drug dealer.

It’s not just the old favourites that are having a boxy renaissance; semirecent shows that you might have missed by a whisker are everywhere at the minute. Super-meta-sitcomCommunity has a huge cult following, appealing to those who like TV and those who are very aware of the fact that they like TV. Equally, shows that haven't even finished, such asBreaking Bad, are being snapped up quicker than crystal  meth on a street corner. 

For me, buying box sets is part of my television-enthusiast vanity complex, the part that knows every character history of House and watches The Wire without subtitles. I’ll be out of a loan before Student Finance can send me one of those annoying texts.

Bartoli and the Beast

Bartoli and the Beast: an easy title for a touchy subject. Yesterday during Marion Bartoli's storming performance in the Wimbledon final, John Inverdale posed the following question:

"Do you think Bartoli's dad told her when she was little: 'You're never going to be a looker, you'll never be a Sharapova, so you have to be scrappy and fight'?"

Well done, Marion. Well done. Against all the odds, ugly as they may have been, you have achieved the impossible! With your scrappy skills and fighting spirit you beat that pretty little blonde thing from Germany and brought home a Grand Slam. Shame though really, Sabine would've looked much better with Djokovic or Murray at the Championship Dinner... Inverdale's comment was sexist and it was ignorant, but what's worse is that this incident is just the tip of the iceberg with regards to attitude towards sportswomen, female presenters, and even the female companions of men in the game. Inverdale's comments were positively generous compared to some of the vitriolic bile on Twitter:

This isn't everyday or 'casual' sexism, it's hate speech. The language is of the animalistic and sexual persuasion associated with female insults, and the trivialisation of violence and rape is truly disturbing. Perhaps the most revealing of them all is the comment by Steve Cremen (fourth on the left) that Bartoli "cannot be the new face of Wimbledon." That's what female tennis players have been reduced to: faces. But an exclusively pretty face, mind. If Marion isn't good enough, who is? Lisicki? In all honesty, Bartoli's pretty blonde opponent is being equally demeaned by these comments. By placing her as the counterpart to Bartoli's beastliness, she becomes a somewhat creepy Tennis Barbie-bot, detracting from the fact that, like Bartoli, she is an extremely talented and extremely pleasant woman. 

It seems astonishing that 40 years on from the Battle of the Sexes between Billie Jean-King and Bobby Riggs, tennis is still tinted with sexism. But in this context, the origins of the issues are not only between the men and women in the tour, but rather the pundits and presenters who are responsible for broadcasting to millions. Inverdale isn't the only Wimbledon bod guilty of patronising women. Just look at the way the ladies of the players' boxes are treated. Well treated may not be the right word - rather they are zoomed in on, played in slow motion and are often to be found "fighting for their men." Andrew Castle is particularly guilty of this, waxing lyrical about the fact that Kim Sears apparently has actual magical powers that affect boyfriend Andy Murray's decisions on court with every flick of the hair. Yes, this is arguably a personal gripe at a fairly innocuous turn of phrase, but it touches at the roots of the wider problem. Inverdale described his comments as being meant in a "nice way", and once people start veiling blatantly sexist remarks under the banner of good old British banter, or jolly ruddy good Wimbledon fun (pass the Pimms), we lose sight of real problem at the heart of female sport. 

There are countless examples of the double standards in tennis, from the camera's focus on players' girlfriends rather than boyfriends, to the constant argument about how much noise women make on court. Unfortunately, these gender binaries are often perpetuated by the players themselves. Recently, Jo-Wilfred Tsonga proved that his science isn't as strong as his serve, suggesting that women aren't as consistent on the tour due to "hormones". Hormones. He may as well have blamed it all on periods. Equally, Gilles Simon complained that women's tennis is less exciting than men's in a public interview, to which Serena Williams retorted:

‘Women's tennis is really awesome. We fought for years with Billie Jean King, to get equal pay ... Maria (Sharapova)'s right – a lot more people are watching her than him. She’s way hotter than he is."

Yeah, girl power, Serena. Gilles may be a bit of a shit but at least Maria's smoking hot. She probably deserved to win Wimbledon, for 6ft blonde women everywhere. For all the "Sharapova's." Here we see the problem is as rooted in the players as it is in the pundits. What exactly is it to be a "Sharapova"? Inverdale succeeds in both dehumanising a champion tennis player, and creating her as the mould for every attractive, leggy non-Bartoli out there. Inverdale's idiocy aside, I'm not sure Bartoli would ever want to be a Sharapova, (currently embroiled in a love rivalry with frenemy Serena Williams instead of powering her way to a Grand Slam title as Marion did so beautifully.) In all the nastiness and superficiality, Bartoli played the match and reacted to the incident with a grace that has nothing to do with looks. Her response to Inverdale encapsulates what is truly at stake in professional tennis:

"It doesn't matter, honestly. I am not blonde, yes. That is a fact. Have I dreamt about having a model contract? No. I'm sorry. But have I dreamed about winning Wimbledon? Absolutely, yes. And to share this moment with my dad was absolutely amazing and I am so proud of it.

There's a lady with her priorities straight and her dignity in tact - that's pretty hot to me.

Only Connect and intellectual snobbery

I love quiz shows, I really do. I love getting the answers right, I love pretending I got the answers right, I love mocking the contestants when they do not get the answers right. Though apparently not as much as Jeremy Paxman and his quizzical brow do. They are a chance to prove one’s unequivocal knowledge of the culture capitals of Europe, or films starring Kevin Bacon; essentially they are a great way to feel like a bit of a clever clogs whilst a wordless word document stares at you from across the room. However, the time of lording my superior knowledge of all things uninteresting over my family and friends whilst they try to enjoy their evening viewing has finally come to an end.

'Only Connect’, the most viewed show on the somewhat haughty and grown up BBC 4, is like an intellectual punch in the face. Scheduled to begin just as University Challenge ends, it maintains the mood of civil Monday night viewing (or in my case, aggressive fact fighting), but forces you to climb several rungs up logic ladder. As opposed to reeling off random facts potentially overhead at a pub quiz, the teams actually have to, well, think about things. The basic format requires the teams to make connections between seemingly random images, words, or pieces of music, meaning you have to be able to link stuff like “things made out of melted guns”, or “tube lines if they were translated as snooker ball colours.” It’s torturous. It’s also genius.

Everything about this program is clever, sharp and a teensy bit elitist. From the titular E.M Forster reference, to the fact that teams choose their question by selecting a hieroglyph (seriously), no academic is left unruffled. Even the classically stringy introductory music gives everything a sense of seriousness. If-I-get-one-right-I’ll-be-a-better-person-ness. Cleverest of all is the show’s presenter, Victoria Coren. I don’t want to be quizzed by her, I want to be her. The somewhat unnerving lack of a studio audience does not phase this lady, as she embarks on monologues and witticisms, gently mocks the teams (most of whom look like they followed University Challenge when Bamber Gascoigne still presented it), and makes us believe she really did already know the answers to all the questions. To top it all off, she’s a poker player, the sister of Giles Coren and the fiancée of David Mitchell. Just imagine what their dinner parties are like.

So, though quiz show fans may have a more relaxing time watching QI, or a more successful evening watching The Weakest Link, nothing says ‘wild Monday night’ like a quiz show that repeatedly assaults you with stuff you didn‘t know. All it needs now is a drinking game.