The hashtag may be over but the need for Me Too has not gone away

Of course, the Charmed star was not the first to use the words “Me Too” in this way – that was Tarana Burke, who employed the phrase as early as 2006 to raise awareness among women of colour of their shared experiences of sexual abuse. But it was last October, after the allegations of rape and sexual harassment by influential Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein emerged, that celebrities from the United States and beyond took up the hashtag on Twitter, igniting an international campaign.

It’s undeniable that this moment sparked conversations on a scale that invited optimism among even the most cynical of feminists – myself included. Suddenly, it seemed the words that had been spoken, shouted, screamed for years and even decades, had reached a decibel that was audible over the din of discrediting and downplaying with which women’s voices had been met for so long.

In many ways, the original purpose of Me Too was achieved. It sent a message to survivors of sexual assault and harassment: you’re not alone, these experiences are not anomalies, cases of individual bad luck, or the result of some misbehaviour or mistake on your part. It said, loudly and clearly, that this was a cultural and systemic problem, which required a cultural and systemic response. It’s that second part – the response – which is the key to change, and this is where my concern about the framing of this political moment comes in.

In order to make sense of the world, humans have always tended towards categorisation, to boxing things off and creating neat chronologies which are easily digestible. This impulse, it seems, has only intensified in the age of social media and one-click-everything. It’s no surprise, then, that Me Too has quickly become, on one hand, a sort of shorthand for the entire feminist movement, and on the other, a term used to denote a watershed moment, a cultural shift which happened, was wrapped up in a bow, and congratulations to everyone involved – now let’s all look at this other shiny thing over there.

The current trend, it seems, is to use Me Too as the hook for any discussion related to gender equality and violence against women.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m not quite sure I can read another article about navigating relationships, life as a man or life as a parent of sons “after Me Too”. Because really, what does that mean? Are we saying that the notion of equality and mutual consent, or even the simple fact that a huge number of women have experienced sexual harassment or abuse in some form, just appeared on people’s radars in October 2017?

Are we willing to let humanity off the hook for everything that came before then? And do we really believe that something tangible – something beyond words and hashtags and Oscars speeches – has changed since then? I think that remains to be seen – and it will take a lot more than waiting and seeing if we expect that to happen.

At the height of Me Too, the surge of public outcry undoubtedly had a direct hand in forcing change from Hollywood to Holyrood, which can’t be overlooked. The Scottish Parliament introduced a helpline for staff to report sexual harassment last November, while reviews into how such complaints are handled were launched at both Holyrood and Westminster, and ministers resigned amid allegations.

But with Prime Minister Theresa May choosing, just in time for her no confidence vote last week, to reinstate two MPs who had been suspended from the whip over alleged sexually inappropriate behaviour, it’s hard to believe there has truly been a meaningful change in culture at the top. How many other powerful institutions will be willing to trade in their Me Too credentials for that extra sliver of power, money or simple convenience, now that the moment for outrage has – apparently – passed?

Within just seven months, the Academy Awards expelled three members – bringing the figure to only four in history – with Harvey Weinstein (pictured below), Bill Cosby and Roman Polanski all expelled as a result of allegations or admissions of sexual assault.

The 2018 Oscars ceremony put the topic centre stage with host Jimmy Kimmel’s opening monologue and several of Weinstein’s accusers appearing as presenters, while 2017’s Best Actor Casey Affleck stood down from presenting due to sexual harassment suits filed against him in 2010.

But one year on, will the issue remain as prominent, or will the Academy and the multi-billion dollar industry it represents bank on having satisfied the required level of response to bad publicity?

It is no criticism of Me Too or its value to say that it should not and cannot be handed responsibility for fundamentally altering the fabric of the deeply embedded structural and interpersonal gender inequality which pervades most of the world today (albeit to varying degrees and in different ways).

THIS at once puts too much weight on what has been achieved since Me Too rose to popularity, and too little weight on everything that came before it. Around 2011, there were “Slutwalks”, where women protested in cities around the world against victim-blaming of sexual assault survivors, emphasising that no matter what a woman wears, no matter her sexuality history, there is no “excuse” for rape.

Dating back to 1977, Reclaim The Night marches have focused on the message that women should not have to restrict their own movements for fear of sexual violence.

This year saw the 28th annual 16 Days Of Activism Against Gender-based Violence, co-ordinated by the UN, promoting awareness and action around the world. And here in Scotland, organisations such as Rape Crisis Scotland, Scottish Women’s Aid and Zero Tolerance have been raising awareness, influencing policy and offering support and solidarity to survivors of gender-based violence for decades.

Effecting change is a hard slog, and major changes in how we think about, respond to and seek to prevent violence against women have been achieved over the past 30 years, but there is a long way to go.

Me Too was absolutely a moment, among many moments, which presented an opportunity to push for greater progress.

The harder task now is to not allow that opportunity to be diluted or pushed aside in favour of sanitised, consumable sound bites or a narrative which treats the movement as a containable event, rather than what it truly is – one part of a process which has barely begun.

As queer feminist musician Janelle Monae (pictured below) put it: “What’s a wave, baby? This a tsunami.” It’s in the interests of those who have the most to lose from a genuine shift in the current balance of power to have us believe and accept that we’ve had our “moment” and it’s time to move on.

The moment for “Me Too”, the social media movement, may well have been and gone. All campaigns have a shelf life. But the problems which gave rise to it have not been solved – far from it – so if we view the end of the popular use of the hashtag as an “after” of any significance, we are in real trouble.

It’s essential that the narrative be shaped instead by those who have everything to gain and who know that we are just getting started. In other words: the patriarchy would love nothing more than to say “thank u, next” to the fighting spirit behind Me Too. Don’t let it.