If you thought social contracts were all about fair deals and mutual benefits, think again—because boy, are they hiding a skeleton in the closet called 'The Sexual Contract.' Penned by Carole Pateman and published in 1988, this book is a historical dive into the unseen agreements lurking behind our modern social structures and institutions. Pateman examines how classical social contract theories—crafted during times when society was pretty much a boys' club—conveniently overlooked the status and rights of women. While such contracts championed equality and freedom among men, at the same time, they upheld a patriarchal framework that subordinated women. It was primarily in the Western context, where these theories blossomed and were nurtured. Why was it like this and how does it affect us now?
Historically, social contract theories have been a fundamental part of understanding political relationships. Think Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau. Their works provided the blueprint for modern democracies by theorizing about human nature and the origins of societal bonds. But what Pateman does skillfully is peep behind the curtain to expose the glaring omission: the gender inequity silently woven into these theories. According to her, the classical contracts assumed the 'original position' to be male, leaving women stuck in a position of dependence, engineered to fulfill domestic roles.
Pateman argues that this is not just an oversight but a deliberate mechanism designed to maintain male dominance. The idea is that the civil society, in running on these contracts, excludes women from the public-political domain. Men get the freedom of citizenship, while women are implicitly assigned to the private sphere—culturally and legally obligated to family roles. This implicit distinction carries consequences even now, influencing wage gaps to societal expectations about gender roles.
It's fascinating, yet it makes you stop and wonder how such ideas, conceived centuries ago, can continue to echo through time, affecting what's considered 'normal' today. 'Equality before the law' seems laughably ironic when you consider that these contracts served as a tool for patriarchy. And Pateman effectively unmasks the dual sense of freedom—public and private—where the former is typically reserved for men and the latter consigned to women.
Some people might push back, arguing that societal shifts over the decades have altered these dynamics. And sure, laws have significantly changed, enfranchising women and expanding their rights. However, the core of the argument is not about legality but more about the everyday experiences that reflect these entrenched inequalities. Just take a look at the workplace, where gender biases subtly (or not so subtly) persist despite laws against discrimination.
To some extent, we've seen progress. Women now have more opportunities and voices than ever before. Consider the #MeToo movement, which has effectively highlighted and begun to dismantle the systemic culture of harassment and inequality—that, too, is a ripple effect of Patrieman’s critique. But while legal frameworks have adapted, societal norms often lag behind. The social contract—seen as an egalitarian framework initially—must be continuously re-evaluated to include all participants equivalently.
Pateman’s book comes at a time when liberal democracies were thought to have largely solved problems of inequality, promoting an illusion of fairness. But her analysis reveals this myth, challenging us to rethink what being ‘equal’ should look like. This doesn’t merely enrich historical or political discourse; it has real-life implications like how society perceives gender roles, career choices, and even family structures.
You can't help considering how fresh and relevant Pateman’s critique feels today. As gender norms evolve and intersect with issues like race, class, and sexuality, 'The Sexual Contract' serves as a cornerstone in understanding these broader dynamics. Ignoring these underlying principles means we risk perpetuating the same outdated norms that fuel inequality.
The conversation around this book isn't just academic or historical; it’s about real change. It’s about holding up a mirror to our societal flaws and taking those reflections seriously. The change happens not just in structured political environments but also in everyday decisions. Men's historical dominance isn't just ancient history. It's a narrative with modern implications—impacting equal pay, parental leave policies, and attitudes towards women in leadership.
Discussing 'The Sexual Contract' isn’t just about looking back but looking forward. Addressing these rooted inequities might, finally, build a true social contract—a contract inclusive of everyone irrespective of gender. The legacy of 'The Sexual Contract' tells us there is much work to be done, yet it also illumines the path toward potential progressive transformations. And while we take these strides, it’s essential to carry forward the inquiry, awareness, and willingness to challenge what we’ve been taught are the invisible threads weaving the fabric of society.