When the leaked video of Finnish Prime Minister Sanna Marin dancing with her friends made the rounds on social media, I thought to myself "good for her".
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
It was refreshing to see a leader look and act like so many young women I know. After all, it is still so rare to see world leaders under the age of 50, let alone a woman in her 30s.
Many women took to social media in support of Marin through the hashtag #solidaritywithsanna, sharing videos of themselves partying.
Ironically, I was too nervous to participate in this trend as I feared the potential ramifications. I am all too aware that young women are still unfairly judged, especially when we dare to challenge the status quo, and I just did not have the energy to counter that stereotype.
Others took to social media to pass judgement on the supposedly controversial "scandal". Marin's dancing was labelled "inappropriate" and "childish", the video would apparently be "dangerous for her career" and would see her lose the next election, and she was accused of being unfit for office with critics calling for her resignation. She was even accused of drug-taking - a speculation she put to rest by returning a negative drug test. These reactions highlight the discomfort, even resentment, that many still feel towards women - especially young women - in positions of power.
Marin also notably received an abundance of support from both media commentators and the general public, and her experience clearly resonated for women around the world. Some applauded her for finding joy after a difficult few years of leading the country through a pandemic and responding to the war in Ukraine. Others admired her for balancing a tough job with a social life - or, in other words, her "work hard, party hard" behaviour.
This last one particularly resonates with me, as a woman in her 20s with a full-time academic position. Like politics, academia was made by and for certain kinds of men and, like politics, there are few role models to look toward for those who don't conform to such expectations. Less than 5 per cent of ongoing academic staff are under 30 while the majority are over 50. Like Marin, I contradict what most people might imagine an academic to be - popular culture frequently depicts us as old, usually white, tweed-clad, wealthy men.
Thanks to the intersection of ageism and sexism, I'm often mistaken for a student, treated with less respect than (older male) colleagues, and am perceived to be less competent, less qualified, and less knowledgeable. Marin's video resonated with me precisely because it spurns the separation of femininity and youth with high-powered careers and the public sphere, demonstrating that you can do both.
The gendered double standards for women in politics are glaringly obvious. Marin's leaked video pales in comparison to the actions of many male world leaders. Outgoing UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson, for example, notoriously held a series of parties while lockdown restrictions on social gathering were in full force, with one even resulting in an attendant breaking his young son's swing.
Or, closer to home, the valorisation of prime ministers adept at downing lagers, such as Bob Hawke and, more recently, Anthony Albanese, videoed receiving applause for skolling his beer while attending a gig. And who could forget Tony Abbott's "wild" farewell party at The Lodge on his last night as prime minister, which saw the former PM go shirtless and resulted in the smashing of a marble coffee table. It seems there's one rule for the boys and another for everyone else.
The video of Marin dancing was pretty unremarkable - the only unusual thing about it is that she dares to be a woman and young while occupying the prime ministerial role. Politics and political leadership are still considered a highly masculine domain, made by and for men of a certain privilege and age who, as such, have shaped the norms of political behaviour. So, while it is standard, even celebrated, for male political leaders to swill beer at the footy or have the occasional raucous party, the image of a young woman leader dancing with her friends is considered abnormal. It seems her very presence in the role is regarded as unusual, and I guess that's because it sadly still is.
MORE OPINION:
Women remain politically underrepresented in most countries, especially in leadership positions. This is slowly changing thanks to trailblazers like New Zealand's Jacinda Ardern and Marin, but it seems many in the political ranks are either slow to adapt or feel threatened.
The backlash that women leaders face also does nothing to encourage greater diversity in politics. Just like the sexist treatment of our first woman prime minister Julia Gillard, such criticisms can leave a deep impression on girls and young women as a forewarning of the risks we run if we challenge the political status quo. We don't even have to be the target of such criticism - just witnessing it can have a negative impact on our self-worth and leadership aspirations.
The furor over the Marin leak sends young women the message that our place is not in politics, as to be a politician you must be a certain kind of person (usually white, male and of a certain age and class).
Our parliaments are sorely lacking diversity. As Ardern commented when asked about the Marin leak, "we need people from all walks of life to look to politics ... how do we make sure that we attract [them] rather than ... put them off?" A good first step would be to stop with the gendered double standards.
- Dr Blair Williams is a lecturer in Australian politics at Monash University and a visiting fellow at the Australian National University.