feminism – The Bartlett Bubble

Feels awkward to read, doesn’t it? Certainly feels awkward to write and even more awkward to press ‘Publish’ on this post. But as I desperately hope you are aware, that was the name of the female lead in the James Bond film Goldfinger, played by Honor Blackman.

(By the way, do you remember her in that UK sitcom in the early 90’s with one of the McGann brothers? I do, but can’t really remember anything about it apart from the fact that they seemed to live in a basement flat and it dripped with sexual tension. Anyway that’s not important now…)

If you could put that character name to one side for a second, I think you’d agree that Goldfinger is a bloody good example of the JB genre, with Sean Connery at his louche best, a great narrative, a suitably unpleasant baddy and arguably the most memorable theme tune of all time sung by the inimitable Dame Shirley (the Unofficial Queen of Wales™).

And Pussy Galore actually kicked ass too – when Bond tried to manhandle her he ended up on his arse in a hay barn. Okay, so then she ended up “succumbing” to Bond’s dubious “charms” but by 1964 standards you could argue she was a strong female character.

But wow, how uncomfortable did I feel when my two young boys (aged 5 and 9) were watching their latest Bond film a few days back and that name came up?

I’ll tell you how uncomfortable.

THIS UNCOMFORTABLE.

Because whilst they don’t know what it means, or would understand the concept of a double entendre (or, in this case, a crap single entendre), it does show a general lack of respect for women which feels very out of place. Add into that the idea of a ‘Bond Girl’ who is there to be kissed and potentially to die horribly before Bond goes on to force himself on someone else and suddenly I’m sitting next to two young boys and it’s like 50 years of feminism never happened…

So how do I reconcile the fact that some of the old films I grew up with are horribly misogynistic (especially is you go back to the 1980s and earlier) against the values I hold today? Here I am, a proud and outspoken advocate of gender equality, not knowing what to say at that part where Bond backhands a young woman or casually smacks another on the backside?

I don’t think I can just put it down to “different times” or “different context”? Because as far as my boys are concerned, the fact that I’m allowing them to watch it means it’s all okay, right? And I’m not even sure they realise Bond (or whatever old film or show we’re watching) isn’t current anyway, come to think of it. It’s new to them, so in their world it’s new!

“But dear old Bartlett” I hear you cry, “why not just stop showing them crap films and shows from times of yore and show them something more forward-thinking?”

Yeah I could do that. And of course it’s not exclusive “old stuff Dad likes” on the TV. But I think just avoiding it could be kind of a cop out…?

I don’t think I can hide them from the mistakes of the past, because they will find them themselves one way or another. And let’s be honest, it’s not like racism or sexism are things of the past (I know, shock horror, right?). People just don’t always say them out loud any more.

No, I think what I have to do is hit the pause button and say, “Listen boys, what just happened is shocking, and I hope you felt as uncomfortable watching it as I did. You should know that people used to think women could be treated like that, but we know better now. Now we treat women with respect and dignity, right?”

But honestly I know that they will just nod dutifully whilst hoping I shut up and hit the play button.

So I’m not sure about this one.

What would you do? What do you do?

This is the time of year when dusty decorations are being eagerly extricated from a cupboard, and suddenly tinsel and sleigh bells take their short-lived but disproportionate place in all our lives.

It’s also the time when the season of office parties deliberately blur the line between work and leisure, with games and organised fun and the drinking that goes with it can blur judgement and dissolve inhibitions. It’s the inhibitions bit that makes me a bit uncomfortable.

When I was younger I worked somewhere where there was a senior man who was… you know… a bit ‘handsy’. The young women in the office brushed it off, and just made sure they didn’t find themselves passing on the stairs at the office party or (God forbid) sharing a taxi with him.

There were always stories about someone who’d seen something or spoken to someone, and you know, there’s no smoke without fire, right? But what could I do? He was much more senior than me and it seemed like ‘the girls’ were handling it. We even joked about it a bit at the time.

We don’t joke about it now.

Now, when I meet with people I worked with back then, we feel embarrassed – guilty even – that we didn’t speak up, challenge, DO something.

Because we all left eventually and went our separate ways, but I’m damn sure this guy carried on doing exactly the same thing for years and years and years. God knows how many young women who added a #MeToo to their social feed a couple of years back, as a small fuck you to the man that made them feel uncomfortable and unsafe at work.

Today it would all be different. In today’s world he probably wouldn’t dare do it in the first place, but if he did then the young women involved would (I hope) feel more empowered to speak up.

And I know that I would stand up to him too – forget the seniority, you’re out of line and I’m not going to stand by and pretend the talk is just talk. Because you can get smoke without fire, but not this much smoke.

I can’t beat myself up for not doing then what I’d do now. I wasn’t the man then that I am today, and I think if I met my younger self I’d probably think he was a bit of a dickhead for various reasons that have nothing to do with this. But he didn’t know what I know.

What I can do is encourage you not to ignore that tell tale whiff of smoke in the air – in a meeting room, a lift, a conversation. Because if there is just a little smoke, then maybe you should break the glass and press the red button just in case.

Better a false alarm than someone getting burnt.

Tag: feminism

Pussy Galore

No Smoking