Surprisingly, certain forms of struggle against patriarchy can unintentionally reinforce the very structures they seek to combat, particularly within heterosexual couples. I propose an analysis, which I hope is nuanced and useful, of these biases, which I therefore inscribe within a critical feminist approach.
Anthropologist Sherry Ortner observed as early as the 1970s that structures of domination often persist through the very attempts to break free from them. This observation finds particular resonance in the analysis of contemporary relational dynamics, where the quest for autonomy can paradoxically reproduce patterns of dependence. In the subject of heterosexual romantic relationships with the couple as a focal point, for example, normative expectations about what an “egalitarian” relationship should be sometimes create new forms of rigidity that actually reproduce the asymmetries they would like to combat.
The concept I propose of “patriarchal feminism” designates those situations where the search for emancipation relies on unconscious presuppositions that keep intact the very logic of domination, and in the same direction. As Judith Butler emphasizes in Gender Trouble (1990), “the power structures through which emancipation is sought are very often the same ones that produce subordination.” This dynamic manifests particularly in heterosexual couple relationships, where the codes of liberation can become injunctions as constraining as traditional norms.
The analysis of contemporary couple relationships thus reveals how certain women, in seeking to reclaim power in their relationships, adopt strategies that paradoxically maintain them in a position of waiting vis-à-vis masculine behavior. This posture, which invests the man with determining power over the course of the relationship, reproduces precisely the patriarchal schema it claims to contest, by still placing the man in a position of centrality.
Observing that women internalize patriarchal schemas is one thing; noting that women who explicitly claim feminism reproduce them without being aware of it is another, and it is the latter that interests me. My analysis is in no way intended to discredit feminism, quite the contrary, because feminist contributions are major and essential, including sometimes in their excesses, for which I have the greatest respect. I inscribe myself in a feminist approach that humbly seeks to identify certain blind spots, in order to better overcome them. As Sara Ahmed recalls in Living a Feminist Life (2017), “feminism is not an arrival position but a constant work of questioning, including of our own practices.”
The issue is not to point out individual contradictions to denounce them, but to understand how patriarchy, as a total system, infiltrates even spaces that are explicitly opposed to it. Christine Delphy, in The Main Enemy (1998), insists on this systemic dimension: “Patriarchy is not a sum of individual behaviors but a system that runs through all of us. To claim to escape it through will alone is to misunderstand its structural nature.”
A revealing example of this dynamic occurred during a feminist meeting on women’s work that I attended. A participant had courageously spoken up to denounce the sexist violence she was experiencing within a feminist cinema association itself. The director of this association, who was on stage, rather than welcoming this testimony, had immediately referred her to her “personal responsibility,” arguing that she could not “follow everything that was happening” in a structure with many members. This response reproduced exactly the mechanisms of silencing and individualization that feminism usually denounces: transforming a systemic problem into individual failure, refusing to hear the voice of the “subalterns,” maintaining the hierarchy between the one who directs and the one who suffers.
This scene perfectly illustrates what Nancy Fraser calls, in Fortunes of Feminism (2013), “neoliberal feminism”: a feminism that, while advocating emancipation, reproduces the logics of individual responsibility and hierarchization inherent to the system it claims to combat. The director, by refusing to examine the power dynamics within her own organization, perpetuated precisely what she was militating against in her speech a quarter of an hour earlier.
Female solidarity, a central concept of feminist movements, absolutely essential to cultivate, can also sometimes transform into an instance of normalization that imposes its own relational codes. Bell hooks, in Feminism is for Everybody (2000), warns against a sisterhood that would become prescriptive rather than emancipatory:
“Powerful sisterhood should never mean that we must all think the same way. On the contrary, it should allow us to appreciate our differences while recognizing our common struggle. When sisterhood becomes a means of policing other women’s behavior, when it becomes a tool for telling women how they should love, whom they should love, and how they should manage their intimate relationships, then it ceases to be liberating and becomes a new form of patriarchy exercised by women over other women.”
This drift is all the more pernicious as it adorns itself with the trappings of emancipation. Female peer groups, even explicitly feminist ones, can thus become spaces where normative expectations about what a “real” egalitarian relationship should be mutually reinforce each other. The paradox is that these spaces, designed to liberate speech and deconstruct patriarchal norms, can sometimes reproduce them in a more subtle and unconscious form.
This collective dynamic can lead to what Pierre Bourdieu called “symbolic violence” - the internalization by the dominated of the categories of perception of the dominants. In Masculine Domination (1998), he writes: “Symbolic violence is instituted through the adherence that the dominated cannot fail to give to the dominant (and thus to domination) when he has only instruments of knowledge that he has in common with him to think him and to think himself or, better, to think his relationship with him.”
Advice between feminist friends, guided by normative representations of what “acceptable” masculine engagement should be, can thus paradoxically reinforce the idea that the man remains the main agent of the relationship, the one from whom “correct” initiatives are expected; simply, the criteria for what is “correct” have changed. This expectation places women in a position of permanent evaluation of masculine behavior rather than in a posture of affirming their own desires and needs. Sisterhood then becomes not a space for mutual liberation, but a tribunal where one collectively judges whether each other’s men are “feminist enough,” “committed enough,” “deconstructed enough,” thus reaffirming masculine centrality in the very definition of what a successful relationship is.
Anthropologist Marilyn Strathern has shown how gender relations in Melanesia reveal that agency is not an individual property but emerges from relationships themselves. Transposed to the contemporary Western context, this analysis suggests that focusing on masculine “failings” can paradoxically reinforce a conception where the man remains the gravitational center of the relationship, even in his presumed deficiency.
The idea that an authentic relationship would require regular confrontations, time offered to the relationship in a very defined way, and “frank discussions” also constitutes a new relational normativity. This conception, which values conflict as a privileged mode of communication and sign of a “healthy” and “egalitarian” relationship, can become a form of orthodoxy that invalidates other modes of maintaining the bond, such as epistolary tenderness or presence at a distance for example. It is true that, in the patriarchal system, men are trained to represent themselves as “strong” through disconnection from the recognition of their own emotions, and it is very important to unveil this. I just want to point out that faced with these confining constructions, the real paths of emancipation are either much more nuanced, or much more radical (for example ending a patriarchal relationship and engaging in social sisterhood, which is so lacking), but that believing one can “transform from within” is often a great illusion, which reproduces precisely what one believes to be setting in motion, without being aware of it, which anchors it even more in social forms and in the serious harm this causes to women and their real emancipation.
Eva Illouz, in Cold Intimacies: The Making of Emotional Capitalism (2006), analyzes how therapeutic models have colonized the contemporary romantic imagination, creating new injunctions to “transparent” communication and codified emotional expression. She observes:
“The language of therapy has created a new emotional normativity that requires individuals to be constantly aware of their emotions, to verbalize them, and to confront their partner about their ’emotional failings.’ This injunction to permanent communication can become a form of tyranny that leaves no space for silence, modesty, or simply non-verbal forms of expressing affection. Paradoxically, by wanting to say everything, to make everything explicit, we can lose what makes the mystery and poetry of a relationship.”
This interpretive framework transforms any form of distance or restraint into pathological “avoidance,” without considering the plurality of modes of affective expression. The paradox is that this injunction to confrontation, often carried by a feminist discourse that values “authenticity” and “transparency,” can itself become a tool of domination: the one who best masters the codes of “deconstructed” communication acquires a position of power over the other, judged “immature” or “in flight” if they do not conform to it.
The exclusive valorization of direct confrontation as a legitimate relational mode can thus become a form of symbolic violence that disqualifies other forms of care and attention. This communicational normativity, by claiming to liberate speech, actually imposes a unique relational scenario that leaves no room for the diversity of temperaments and life situations. Feminist women who demand these “frank conversations” from their partners thus reproduce, unwittingly, a form of control over the acceptable modalities of affective expression.
The analysis of contemporary relational dynamics reveals a fundamental paradox: the quest for emancipation can lead to seeking a form of belonging that reproduces patriarchal patterns of possession. Simone de Beauvoir had already identified in The Second Sex (1949) this tension between the desire for autonomy and the temptation to define oneself through the other:
“The woman in love tries to see with the eyes of the man she loves, she reads the books he reads, prefers the paintings and music he prefers; she is only interested in the landscapes she sees with him, in the ideas that come from him; she adopts his friendships, his enmities, his opinions; when she questions herself, it is his answer she seeks to hear; [...] She is one with him. By this complete resignation, she ensures her happiness; if he loves her, he will choose her at every moment; there she is necessary, justified. But this resignation can only be authentic if it is freely consented to.”
This paradox manifests in multiple contemporary expectations:
Anthropologist Françoise Héritier, in Masculine/Feminine: The Thought of Difference (1996), shows how the “differential valence of the sexes” persists even in societies that advocate equality, through subtle mechanisms of reproducing hierarchies. She notes: “Women who demand that men ’own’ their feelings, that they ’know what they want,’ that they ’take responsibility’ unknowingly reproduce the ancestral idea that the man is the engine of the relationship, the one who sets the tempo and defines the rules of the love game.”
The very notion of masculine “cowardice,” frequently mobilized in breakups for example, reveals this persistence: by accusing the man of not assuming his relational role, one implicitly reaffirms that this role primarily falls to him. This attribution of primary responsibility keeps intact the patriarchal structure that makes the man the main agent of the relationship, even when he is reproached for playing this role badly.
Adolescent identity construction reveals particularly acutely the paradoxes of patriarchal feminism. Étienne de La Boétie, in his Discourse on Voluntary Servitude (1576), already posed the broader question: “How can it be that so many men, so many cities, so many nations sometimes endure everything from a single Tyrant, who has no power but that which is given to him?” This questioning finds a real echo in the observation of adolescent relational dynamics, where the quest for freedom coexists with an attraction to dominant, even violent masculine figures.
Malcolm Gladwell, in The Tipping Point (2000), offers an enlightening interpretive framework through his analysis of smoking addiction among adolescents. He demonstrates that young people continue to smoke not despite but because of the transgression it represents:
“Adolescent smoking is not an error in judgment. Adolescents know perfectly well that smoking is dangerous. But it is precisely because it is dangerous, because their parents disapprove of it, because it is an act of rebellion and self-affirmation, that they do it. The danger is not a bug, it’s a feature. Health risk-based prevention campaigns fail because they completely miss the point: adolescents don’t smoke despite the danger, they smoke for the danger, for what it means socially.”
This analysis applies in my opinion quite well also to adolescent romantic dynamics. Young girls who choose dominant or violent partners do not do so out of ignorance of the risks, but precisely because this relationship represents a double transgression: that of parental expectations on one hand, and paradoxically, that of their own freedom on the other. By voluntarily submitting to a dominant masculine figure, they believe they are asserting their autonomy (“it’s my choice”) while integrating into the social group of women “in relationships,” perceived as a rite of passage to adulthood.
Marie-France Hirigoyen, in Women Under Control (2005), analyzes this paradox:
“Young girls who want to be free and independent are often those who most easily fall under the control of manipulative men. Their desire to assert their autonomy makes them paradoxically vulnerable to relationships where they will lose precisely this autonomy they claim.”
This vulnerability is not the result of individual weakness, but the result of a socialization that paradoxically values, as we have just seen, simultaneously feminine independence and seduction by masculine force. Anthropologist Véronique Nahoum-Grappe, in her work on violence and gender, observes that:
“the attraction to violent masculine transgression often constitutes, for adolescent girls, a paradoxical way of asserting their own freedom: by choosing the ’bad boy,’ they believe they are exercising a free choice that distinguishes them from parental and social expectations, without seeing that they are reproducing the oldest of patriarchal schemas, that of the woman who ’saves’ or ’transforms’ the violent man through her love.”
Like with the cigarette analyzed by Gladwell, awareness campaigns on domestic violence that focus solely on the dangers often fail with adolescent girls. They miss the essential point: these dangerous relationships are precisely sought for what they mean socially, entry into the adult world of seduction, belonging to the group of “desirable” women capable of attracting “strong” men, transgression of parental authority. Voluntary submission thus becomes, paradoxically, an act of emancipation from childhood, a way of taking the risk of accessing the status of woman.
This adolescent mechanism lays the foundation for a relationship to masculinity that persists into adulthood, consciously or unconsciously. Women who have internalized that their social value depends on their ability to be chosen by “powerful” men often continue to seek this validation, even when they proclaim their independence. Adolescent transgression then transforms into a more subtle form of dependence: the permanent expectation that the man structure the relationship, define its contours, be its main driving force. The paradox is that this expectation is often formulated in the very language of emancipation: we ask the man to “own up,” to “commit,” to “take responsibility,” all injunctions that reaffirm his centrality in the relational dynamic. It is a demand addressed to the man to be dominant, with criteria that become more politically correct, if not feminist, but which do not modify the symbolic system of power organization.
Beyond adolescent dynamics, the analysis of female expectations in adult couple relationships thus reveals the persistence of internalized patriarchal schemas. Several recurring demands illustrate this paradoxical dynamic where women, by demanding certain behaviors from men, reaffirm their subordinate position. What is very paradoxical in the feminine and even so-called feminist posture regarding the demands I list here, is that in reality, it is women who always carry the mental load of all dimensions of the household, whether material, emotional, relational, educational, logistical, etc. And they even carry the mental load of “asking the man to evolve,” believing they are in an emancipatory couple project, when in reality in their postures, they remain in the most hackneyed patriarchal tradition of the woman who becomes mother to the entire family, without perceiving any benefit in terms of autonomy, economic, social and even emotional, because, always, she lives for others and not for herself, which is inscribed in her legal and patrimonial reality.
These demands can be:
Françoise Héritier observed with accuracy:
“Modern women often expect men to be both sensitive and strong, protective and egalitarian, initiative and respectful. These contradictory expectations reveal less an evolution toward equality than a complexification of patriarchal demands: the man must now excel in all registers, traditional AND modern, thus maintaining his position as the main referent of the relationship.”
This concept of “patriarchal feminism,” which I am far from being the first to identify, does not aim to weaken the feminist project, but on the contrary to strengthen it by identifying some of its blind spots. As Audre Lorde emphasizes in Sister Outsider (1984), “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house”. We must I believe constantly question our own practices to ensure that they do not reproduce, in other forms, the structures we seek to deconstruct. This self-critical vigilance is not a weakness but a strength of feminism: its ability to question itself, to evolve, to recognize its own contradictions to better overcome them. My intention is more one of mutual equality and autonomy.
British sociologist Lynn Jamieson, in Intimacy: Personal Relationships in Modern Societies (1998), proposes to rethink intimacy not as fusion or confrontation, but as “practices of proximity” that can take multiple forms. This perspective allows us to escape the binary trap that opposes autonomy and dependence, to think of more fluid and less normative relational forms.
The issue is not to deny the power relations that run through intimate relationships, but to recognize how certain resistance strategies can unintentionally reproduce them. Raewyn Connell, in her work on masculinities, shows that the transformation of gender relations requires going beyond fixed relational scenarios, whether traditional or supposedly progressive:
“The true revolution in gender relations will not consist in reversing roles or imposing new norms, but in recognizing the multiplicity of ways of being in relationship. As long as we remain prisoners of the idea that there is a ’right’ way to love, a ’true’ equality to achieve, we will reproduce patterns of domination, simply dressed in new rags. Authentic emancipation lies in the ability to invent, together, relational forms that correspond to the singularities of each relationship, without constantly referring to an external model of what love should be.”
True relational emancipation could thus reside not in the adoption of new normative codes, even if they are feminist in their denominations, but in the ability to invent singular relational forms, adapted to situations and the people present. This approach requires abandoning the idea of an ideal relational model to embrace the multiplicity of ways of being in connection, without this diversity being interpreted as failure or compromise.
The challenge for contemporary feminism is therefore in my opinion twofold: to continue deconstructing patriarchal structures while taking care not to reproduce them in new forms. This requires constant vigilance, a capacity for self-criticism, and above all the humility to recognize that we are all traversed by the systems of domination that we fight. As Gilles Deleuze summarizes with great incisive force in his Dialogues with Claire Parnet: “There is no desire for power, it is power that is desire. Not desire-lack, but desire-machine, desire-assemblage.”
To exit patriarchal feminism is perhaps to cease desiring power in the relationship to invent unprecedented relational assemblages. It is to accept that the feminist struggle is never finished, that it must constantly reinvent itself, question itself, so as not to become in turn an orthodoxy. This critical consciousness, far from being a weakness, constitutes feminism’s greatest strength: its ability to transform itself to remain faithful to its emancipatory project.
The practice of feminism seems to me to be an essential stake in the cultural actions, because the awareness of the systems of domination allows to go towards more equality, therefore to contribute to the democracy. The inequality between women and men is for me a cornerstone of the dominations that harm everyone.
But how to “put feminism into practice” concretely in public proposals? How can cultural actions, whatever their field of implementation (artistic, social, educational, professional...), arouse inner movements towards more respect of human rights? It is not a question of stating a normative feminist discourse, but of putting into practice an equality in the ways of acting. This is much more delicate and delicate to do than one might think, because it involves questioning one’s own unconscious functioning.
I share here some resources, partial, from my own pathways, practices and questionings: proposals and stories of cultural actions, working methods, methods of artistic creation and more conceptual or biographical reflections.