Is It Really Feminism?

Why aestheticized feminist TikToks damage the cause

By: Amber Lin

Insert a Nara Smith still, a political cartoon of a woman cooking, an image of a nuclear family in front of an American flag. Transition to a photo of Zendaya, then Emma Watson, and end it off with Joan of Arc. Type “Follow Your Dreams, Not Your Boyfriend.”Add a vintage filter. Layer a phonk song, increase bass post-transition. Monetize it. Move on.

If this reads as a formula, it’s because it is one. Curated Pinterest-esque moodboards recycled onto TikTok are flooding algorithms and testing the bounds of what should still be considered activist content. If you’re unfamiliar with this type of content, it’s time to become familiar. Younger and younger women are being exposed to an aestheticized and glamorized format of viewing feminist content, which I believe can be tied to a slowing of not just the feminist movement, but movements alike.

The palatability is hard to ignore, and so it is easy to see why content like this is making the top searches. Literally. Upon searching up “feminism” on TikTok, the aforementioned “moodboard” videos— women in certain filters, arranged to meet a “vibe”—make up almost half of the first one hundred videos. I commend this new rise in video style because of its ease to consume. It is so easy to watch a 20 second video, like, comment,—even go to the extremes—and repost. Feeling confidently like we, as the viewer, have done something, we scroll away and stop searching for more.

This is not to say that people must always “do more,” that sharing videos and spreading the message is not enough. However, there is always work to be done to improve the way we interact with content. There is no perfect way to consume media, much less feminist media. But there certainly is an ineffective—dare I say “wrong”—way to consume feminist media. This movement has been aided so greatly by the forces that are content sharing online; simultaneously, the mainstream transforms how people view, interact with, and consume that same movement. This piece details why the shift in content, from educational to appealing, is remarketing feminism in a way that damages progress. 

At first glance, TikToks like this don’t seem to do harm: they spread awareness. I too believed this, and it’s furthered by opinions that feminism has yet to create the desired change in society because people aren’t “aware.” As Amelia Galloway via Deseret News explains in her opinion piece, Feminism is worth fighting for because it’s for everybody, awareness is what we need to progress and light the spark for the movement. Yet, I’d argue that awareness isn’t always enough, action needs to follow. With the methods that young modern feminists are using to “take-action,” the movement is stagnating, much less progressing on mainstream platforms. I would make a case that glamorized TikToks—especially at face value—do little to empower or educate people. Even worse, they promote an unrealistic standard that activism is always chic, without grit, and oftentimes successful. At best, those who consume material like this have inward change; still, videos that promote feminism as an aesthetic do not provide the framework to change patriarchal structures. In fact, they buy into the very patriarchal views that women must look “pretty” and “put together” while fighting for change. Rather, those influenced by this form of feminism fail to take the further steps to research or advocate for women, instead, their following of the movement is heavily based on performative measures.

I would categorize these forms of videos as “Popular Feminism,” a term coined by Sarah Banet-Weiser in her book Empowered: Popular Feminism and Popular Misogyny (a great read!) because they capitalize off social trends while never addressing or guiding viewers on the fundamental changes that should occur in society moving forward. In fact, as Banet-Weiser explains, Popular Feminist media like this actually encourage the rise of the reactive “Popular Misogyny," which is far more damaging to society than moodboard TikToks ever are beneficial. While this hyperspecific form of TikToks alone don’t necessarily directly correlate to increased misogyny, they contribute to the culture of feminism that is commodified and surface level. Misogynists take this as a threat, and often hold more institutional power to react—in government, social media, and public life.

TikToks like this shouldn’t cease to exist. Rather, they should be accompanied by actual resources, writing, or calls to action that can inform women of further steps to take to progress the movement beyond watching an aesthetically pleasing flicker of pictures. Combining the accessibility of TikTok with actual educational content can push the movement past its current bounds and avoid the stagnation of feminism online, otherwise, we’re just refreshing the moodboard.