Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Maslin-The Gender Neutral Feminism of Hannah Arendt
Maslin-The Gender Neutral Feminism of Hannah Arendt
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
and Wiley are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to
Hypatia
KIMBERLY MASLIN
Though many have recently attempted either to locate Arendt within feminism or femin
within the great body of Arendt's work, these efforts have proven only modestly success
Even a cursory examination of Arendt's work should suggest that these efforts would pro
frustrating. None of her voluminous writings deal specifically with gender, though som
her work certainly deals with notable women. Her interest is not in gender as such, but
woman as assimilated Jew or woman as social and political revolutionary. In this paper
argue that Arendt recognized that what frequently passes for a gender question is n
essentially a matter of gender at all, but rather an idiosyncratic form of hneliness t
typically affects, though is by no means limited to, women. In her work one finds the
ceptual tools necessary to understand the "woman problem" rather than an explicit argum
or a solution to it.
In recent years feminists have gone to great lengths to uncover, recover, and discov
the latent feminism of Hannah Arendt. Feminists find in Arendt an intriguing
evasive, figure. Concerning gender, as with so much of her politics, she is not ea
labeled. Arendt both smoked cigars and suggested that certain occupations were n
very becoming to women. She warned of potential danger in any political movem
based only on shared victim status and touted the importance of finding politic
solutions to political problems. Though these apparent contradictions certainly pr
ent challenges, the perennially provocative nature of Arendt's work also rende
Arendtian scholarship a fertile ground for renewed conceptual examinations of fe
nism. These recent re-examinations have taken primarily two different approach
Some have sought to uncover the theoretical treatment of women, to identify a
implicitly feminist message, or to reveal the conceptualization of gender in Aren
work: the "woman question in Arendt" (Hertz 1984; Cutting-Gray 1993; Pitkin 19
Weissberg 1997). Others have utilized an Arendtian approach to challenge femini
perspectives and possibly carve out a new approach to politics, power, or women
issues: the "Arendt question in feminism" (Dietz 1995; Elshtain 1995; Dietz 2002).
It is neither surprising that feminists would attempt to claim one of the greatest
philosophical minds of the twentieth century, nor that Arendt would resist attempts
to affix a label to her politics. As an existential philosopher, she was deeply suspi
cious of most labels. As a political theorist, she rejected political movements based
only on shared victim status. Although previous efforts to reconcile Arendt's political
theory and feminism have produced a variety of fascinating re-examinations of
Arendtian themes, the results have seemed somewhat contrived for two reasons. First,
Arendt rarely addressed gender issues, even in her private correspondence, and she
never wrote systematically about feminism or the "woman problem." Second, many
of the oft-noted (perhaps flippant) comments Arendt did make regarding feminism
suggest deep skepticism, perhaps even hostility to feminism.
Nonetheless, in this paper I will argue that there is an Arendtian approach to
feminism that is worthy of serious reconsideration, because throughout her work
Arendt reinforces the impossibility of divorcing the political from the ontological
aspects of human existence. Moreover, this reconsideration could benefit from an
examination of the two occasions on which Arendt thoughtfully addressed the
"woman problem"—a book review from 1933 and her 1964 interview with Giinter
Gaus. Although neither of these texts stands as prominent in the Arendt corpus, they
do complicate the readings of her major works that have failed to consider them.
Arendt was perhaps at her most provocative while offering insight into the ways in
which different facets of one's identity affect social and political opportunities. Given
her unique position at the nexus of existential and political philosophy, Arendt
recognized that what typically passes for a gender problem is not a matter of gender
at all, but a peculiar kind of loneliness. In other words, the dynamics at work in "the
woman problem" are, at their core, challenges of human existence.
In what follows, I first explore the two different approaches feminists have taken
in the attempt to claim Arendt. Neither approach is sufficiently attentive to the
intersection of ontology and politics in Arendt's work. Second, I examine her 1933
book review in conjunction with the Gaus interview and suggest that although
Arendt did not write systematically about gender and spoke about gender in a some
what inconsistent manner, she did view conventional approaches to epistemology
and power as masculine and problematic. Finally, and most important, I develop the
argument that although she never wrote systematically about the gender question,
Arendt left feminists with the conceptual framework to understand that the so-called
"woman problem" occurs most prominently when constant engagement in labor and
a lack of solitude lead to a self-denial in which loneliness becomes an ontological
condition rather than an intermittent reality, thereby precluding the kind of connect
edness necessary for political action. Although it might seem that Arendt's views on
women give rise to a problematic inconsistency in her thought, I will suggest that
since her primary focus is better understood as reflecting an intimacy between the
ontological and the political, this inconsistency is better read as a productive tension.
Accordingly, I will propose that this Arendtian feminism, which treats "the woman
problem" as an ontological struggle—a manner of being in the world—with profound
political implications, can be read as "gender-neutral."
the political (human rights), as opposed to the social (economic issues) could be
understood as advocating an approach to politics that might be beneficial to
women.
and O'Brien impose a binary construct that derives from difference-based feminism
onto Arendt's nonbinary "thought trains," obscuring some of her most interesting and
complex contributions, such as genderless action.
Ann Lane argues that although Rich is quite critical of Arendt, they advocate an
approach to political engagement that is strikingly similar (Lane 1983); in other
words, if one were to transfer the exhortation to political activism, which Arendt
aims at the Jews, to women, the result would be precisely the kind of feminism that
Rich accuses Arendt of withholding. Arendt's role within Zionism, for example, was
that of a pariah member. Moreover, Lane asserts "[i]f Arendt's jeremiad were adapted
for feminism, it would address not the violence against women but their unwitting
cooperation in their subordination" (Lane 1983, 111). Moreover, within the Zionist
tradition, Arendt's was the voice that warned of the dangers associated with building
a political system based on shared victim status. This warning sounds stunningly simi
lar to Rich's admonishment that the "mere sharing of oppression does not constitute
a common world" (Rich 1979, 203). In short, even as she turns from Arendt, Rich
identifies substantially the same issues for feminism that Arendt highlighted for Zion
ism (112). Although Arendt's interest in otherness is commonly accepted and often
discussed, she did not self-identify as a "feminist." In response to criticism of her essay
"Reflections on Little Rock," however, she forcefully asserted her intention to sympa
thize or identify with "all oppressed or under-privileged peoples" (Arendt 1959, 47).
This assertion, together with the few comments she actually made on the subject of
gender, renders the phallocentric interpretation of Arendt a difficult position to
sustain.
The sense of satisfaction she claims in her professional work is likened to the feeling
of being in the most feminine of spaces: the home. The masculine, scholarly aspiration
is an external one. The goal is to achieve influence over the thoughts of others, to
impose one's thoughts, thereby preempting the process of thinking in others. Success
lies not within the scholar's control, but outside; one's sense of personal satisfaction
relies on the reception and reaction of others. The aspiration of the feminine scholar,
on the other hand, is an internal one and ultimately an intimate one: to understand.
Writing and scholarship are cast as nothing more than part of the process of achieving
understanding, as part of the thinking process. In this formulation, satisfaction lies
within the scholar's control, and the ultimate satisfaction lies in promoting or provok
ing, rather than suppressing or preempting, the thinking process in others.
The question isn't whether Arendt has arrived at a distinction of any merit, but
whether she conceptualizes the binary categories masculine/feminine as having signifi
cance as such. If these categories do have significance, how does she view the distinc
tion? Hans Jonas repeated a story after her death that provides insight into Arendt's
conceptualization of gender differences.
Jonas points to this exchange as a point of unspoken agreement between Arendt and
his wife, though it also serves as a critique of a masculine epistemology. Jonas's
request for proof draws a rebuke either because Arendt views men as less observant
than women, or she finds them hopelessly tied to a particular and limiting notion of
what constitutes legitimate evidence, perhaps an epistemological approach that is
dismissive of intuitive judgment or alternative methodologies. Jonas also suggests that
Arendt viewed men as "the weaker sex, more removed from the intuitive grasp of
reality... more prone to illusion and less perceptive of the ambiguity and admixture of
shadows in the human equation—thus actually to be protected." Moreover, Jonas
asserts that for Arendt greater "sensitivity resulted in greater toughness." It was her
sensitivity or perceptiveness that allowed her to survive imprisonment at Gurs, for
example (26).
In characteristically Arendtian fashion, her comments on gender fit neatly into
neither the phallocentric nor gynocentric categories, but rather offer a third alterna
tive that places considerable onus on the "victims." She does seem to find meaningful
gender differences, which she herself both embraces and rejects. The book review
suggests that she believed the personality traits associated with femininity derive from
the limited ability to choose and the nature of the choices one must necessarily
make. Moreover, Jonas clearly indicates that Arendt found in femininity a source of
strength, perhaps even power: the power of perceptiveness. Power for Arendt is the
ability to choose (Arendt 1957/1997, 87); those who cannot accurately assess a situa
tion cannot meaningfully choose. She viewed intuition, sensitivity, perceptiveness,
and alternative methodologies as assets. In short, although Arendt does not address
gender in a sustained or systematic way, she has devoted considerable attention to
otherness, concluding that although otherness profoundly affects the way one encoun
ters the world, the impact is not so compelling as to be irresistible. However, resis
tance requires awareness and action. Accordingly, Arendt's work offers us a way of
conceptualizing the complex interaction between one's way of being in the world
(the ontological) and worldliness (the political). She rarely addresses the "woman
problem" explicitly since ontological questions transcend the physical. Yet Arendt's
interest is in revealing the ontological phenomena that profoundly diminish the pros
pects of political action. Thus, she explores solitude, loneliness, and the lack of
connectedness, which, taken together, not only comprise "the woman problem" but
also constitute one of the challenges of human existence. In light of and in response
to this challenge, I contend that she offers a gender-neutral feminism, a feminism
that seeks to understand "the woman problem" first and foremost as a human prob
lem, as the political manifestation of an ontological condition.
As early as 1933 Arendt expressed a concern with the constant nature of women's
work, though it is not until The Human Condition that animal laborans, homo faber,
and vita activa emerge as existenaals (Hinchmann and Hinchmann 1984, 197). Labor
involves all the necessary, if tedious, tasks that leave no lasting impact or sign that
they have ever been performed and begin to be undone almost immediately: house
keeping duties, such as food preparation and cleaning. She also refers to these tasks
as "unproductive labor." It is no coincidence, she argues, that the phrase "to labor
meant to be enslaved by necessity" (Arendt 1958b, 83). Work or productive labor
(homo faber) leaves a tangible, lasting product in the world. It might be a physical
product, such as a work of art, a piece of furniture, or an intellectual product, such as
a work of philosophy. Work is valued as an activity since it creates capital, wealth,
or something tangible, whereas labor does not create anything of lasting value and is
not socially valued. Finally, action is a self-revealing public performance. It is meant
to be observed and understood by others. To act is to be seen, to be heard, and to
reveal something of one's self in a public venue. One's self-actualization is complete
only as it becomes part of a public performance. In other words, one attains fully
human status only as one achieves political existence. Action requires speech since
one must proffer an explanation of the meaning of one's public revelation (179). Pre
occupation with labor carries with it the psychic byproduct of leaving nothing of
value in the world, but additionally, devoting an inordinate amount of time to labor
minimizes opportunities for solitude, which is a crucial prerequisite for thought, hence
for political action.
Arendt frequently uses the terms isolation and bneliness in conjunction with each
other (Arendt 1958a, 474; 1958b, 212-214; 1953a). In The Origins of Totalitarianism,
isolation emerges as a major theme since it is a precondition of totalitarianism. Lone
liness, on the other hand, is not mentioned until the last chapter ("Ideology and
Terror"), which first appeared in the second edition and is developed more fully in
The Human Condition. She refers to a peculiar though consequential tenet of loneli
ness in her description of the process by which solitude can become loneliness. Lone
liness is at its most profound, she proffers, "when all by myself, I am deserted by my
own self." It is a brief, often overlooked, yet significant distinction between isolation
and loneliness that is critical to understanding Arendt's existential approach to femi
nism. Some have read this to suggest that (1) isolation is a precursor of loneliness
(Kateb 1983), and (2) both isolation and loneliness are preconditions of totalitarian
ism (Benhabib 2000). Certainly, individuals who are both isolated and lonely are
vulnerable to totalitarian exploitation, which is to say, likely to seek out meaning
with such zeal that they impose that meaning and "try to remake the world in its
image with a total devotion and a total lack of restraint" (Kateb 2002, 324). Yet
Arendt emphasizes that isolation and loneliness are two separate and distinct
phenomena. Although the absence of human companionship may be common in
existential loneliness, self-desertion is the pivotal and most poignant component:
So crucial is the two-in-one partnership that the loss of "trust in himself' renders one
incapable of engaging in thought, self-reflection, even of processing the meaning of
one's experiences. Isolation involves being deserted by others, whereas loneliness
involves a form of self-desertion. As for which is worse, Arendt leaves no doubt. It is
"[b]etter to be at odds with the whole world than be at odds with the only one you are
forced to live together with when you have left company behind" (Arendt 1978, 188).
The most succinct statement regarding loneliness can found in Arendt's 1965 essay
"Some Questions of Moral Philosophy." This essay represents the culmination of
Arendt's political existentialism. In it she captures the experience of loneliness as an
ontological phenomenon and connects it to three distinct collective (that is, political)
phenomena. As an ontological experience, loneliness, she posits, "is precisely this
being deserted by oneself, the temporary inability to become two-in-one as it were,
while in a situation where there is no one else to keep us company" (Arendt 1965,
96). As an individual experience the inability to engage oneself in an inner dialogue
triggers not only a profound and uncomfortable sense of disconnectedness; the loss of
the two-in-one means that "I become one, possessing of course, self-awareness, that is,
consciousness, but no longer fully and articulately in possession of myself' (98).
Interestingly, this exploration of loneliness is the only place Arendt refers to lone
liness as a temporary experience. In fact, it directly contradicts the portrait of loneli
ness that emerges from the totalitarian context, in which "[tjotalitarianism takes care
that loneliness remains and that solitude cannot develop" (Arendt 1953a, 10). One
suspects she may be indebted to Heidegger and his distinction between an ontic real
ity and an ontological condition. An ontic reality constitutes a Heideggerian cate
gory and refers to a set of physical, intellectual, or sociohistorical characteristics,
whereas the ontological comprises an existential and conditions one's manner of
being-in-the-world. In other words, intermittent loneliness resembles an ontic reality,
in and out of which a person may move, whereas utter loneliness is a matter of how
one inhabits one's very ontological condition as a being-in-a-world, politically situ
ated. It is the ontological form of loneliness that concerns Arendt, precisely because
it affects one's political existence.
Over time, the inability to connect with one's inner partner renders thought and
the validation of one's experiences (and therefore understanding) utterly impossible.
In short, the loss of the two-in-one results in the subsequent loss of thought,
often at odds with their lived experience since tasks associated with animal laborans
are rarely deeply satisfying. Women, like refugees, face a series of paradoxical choices.
They both experience a social compulsion to deny their real experiences. These pres
sures leave both women and refugees struggling to recover their own uniqueness, in
other words, they leave them struggling to attain humanness. Women must renounce
either social equality or economic independence; they must accept either enslave
ment in their own home or the dissolution of their families; women must either be
constrained by biologically grounded tasks or renounce reproduction and family life;
women must proclaim motherhood the most satisfying experience of a lifetime,
despite chronic sleep-deprivation and the prevalence of depression. This denial of
lived experiences is often accompanied by an escape into the private realm. Though
the private realm and the activities that take place there (thinking) are important
preconditions for a public presentation, there is a profound danger in occupying
either the private or the public realm exclusively. In the case of refugees, Arendt
references the escape into astrology and palm-reading, "[t]hus we learn less about
political events but more about our own dear selves... " (Arendt 1943, 70). Eventu
ally, Arendt explicitly establishes the connection between refugees and women:
We are like people with a fixed idea who can't help trying continu
ally to disguise an imaginary stigma. Thus we are enthusiastically fond
of every new possibility which, being new, seems able to work mira
cles. We are fascinated by every new nationality in the same way a
woman of tidy size is delighted with every new dress which promises
to give her the desired waistline. But she likes the new dress only as
long as she believes in its miraculous qualities, and she will throw it
away as soon as she discovers that it does not change her stature—or,
for that matter, her status. (76)
In other words, having denied a facet of their own uniqueness, women and refugees
seek comfort in trivialities and idle chatter. Moreover, both women and refugees,
having denied something fundamental about their own uniqueness, cease to confront
the two-in-one. Finally, both women and refugees, having denied a fundamental
component of their own unique distinctiveness, turn away from the "partner who
comes to life when you are alert and alone" and busy themselves with fashion, soap
operas, and other mind-numbing experiences (Arendt 1978, 188). In turning one's
back on the two-in-one and immersing oneself in idle chatter, the individual
succumbs to a false sense of connectedness.
in thoughtfulness. One of the challenges of the authentic life for Arendt is the neces
sity of moving back and forth between the world of thought and the world of appear
ances. The conscience is a byproduct or a result of thinking that results once one has
restored or created harmony with one's inner partner. The conscience must necessar
ily precede judgment and should precede action. It is through acts of conscience that
"the liberating effect of thinking... [is] manifest in the world of appearances, where I
am never alone and always too busy to think" (Arendt 1978, 193). As one prepares
to share the product or the results of thinking, to identify and express the useful
byproducts of the thinking activity to others, the products of one's thinking are crys
tallized in the form of thoughts, which can then be shared with others. It is in the
process of sharing thoughts with others that one not only enters into the realm of
action, but achieves the distinction of being fully human. Since for Arendt it is the
activity of being seen and heard by others that validates one's existence, this interac
tion serves as a tether of sorts between the individual and the world.
A lack of thinking is troubling to Arendt for several reasons. It increases the pros
pects of evildoing since "most evil is done by people who never made up their minds
to be or do either evil or good" (Arendt 1978, 180). In the aftermath of the Eich
mann trial, she wondered whether there might be something in the thinking process
itself that prevents evildoing. Perhaps, she suggested, evildoing represents a lack of
inner harmony: "The manifestation of the wind of thought is not knowledge; it is the
ability to tell right from wrong, beautiful from ugly. And this, at the rare moments
when the stakes are on the table, may indeed prevent catastrophes, at least for the
self' (193). Not all thoughtlessness results in evildoing, however. Arendt also
describes a more mundane outcome, which may be particularly applicable to the
"woman problem": "A life without thinking is quite possible; it then fails to develop
its own essence—it is not merely meaningless; it is not fully alive. Unthinking men
are like sleepwalkers" (191). Thoughtlessness or a lack of "intercourse with oneself'
may result in a nearly undetectable emptiness, a surreal existence or hollowness that
consists primarily in going through the motions of a fully human life, a shadow exis
tence or an inauthentic life.
If isolation involves being deserted by others, labor and work both require isola
tion. In order for tasks to be completed, for a play or poem to be written, one must
have time alone with his or her own thoughts and tools to create a tangible product.
In fact, isolation may be beneficial in terms of productivity. Action, on the other
hand, can never occur in isolation, since action is by nature plural. Acting, for
Arendt, requires interaction. Action requires an audience since action necessarily
takes place in the space between (Arendt 1958b, 182). Isolated individuals cannot
act; to be isolated is to be deprived of the capacity to act.
Labor is not only inherently isolated, but also inherently lonely. It is not commonly
recognized as lonely since many forms of labor are performed in physical proximity to
others. However, the performance of labor in proximity to others "has none of the
distinctive marks of true plurality. It does not consist in the purposeful combination of
different skills and callings" (Arendt 1958b, 212). Loneliness among laborers may be
yet another example of existential loneliness. In The Human Condition, Arendt uses
the term utter loneliness to describe the experience of the physical laborer and to
explain the inability of laborers to organize effectively into a political movement:
Arendt uses the term utter loneliness to describe the ontological condition. Since com
munication and shared experiences are at the heart of the human experience, under
conditions of ontological loneliness, individuals cease to be fully human. In her conver
sation with Gaus, Arendt connects the experience of loneliness with consumption in a
way that is reminiscent of Betty Freidan's notion of the feminine mystique. This loneli
ness, she asserts, "consists in being thrown back upon oneself a state of affairs in which,
so to speak, consumption takes the place of all the truly relating activities" (Arendt
1964, 20), precisely the process she described afflicting refugees.
Thus, for Arendt, one's manner of being in the world is inextricably linked to the
prospects of self-governance. Fear and loneliness are fundamentally antipolitical expe
riences, rendering political engagement all but impossible: "Just as fear and the impo
tence from which fear springs are antipolitical principles and throw men into a
situation contrary to political action, so loneliness and the logical-ideological deduc
ing the worst that comes from it represent an antisocial situation and harbor a princi
ple for all human living-together" (Arendt 1958a, 478). Again, isolation is not the
same as being alone. One can be alone and not isolated. Moreover, one can be
together with others, in a physical sense, and still be deserted by them. Additionally,
the immediate, physical presence of others may render the experience of desertion,
whether by others or by oneself, all the more poignant. Work, on the other hand,
may be isolated and in no way lonely, since the critical distinction is whether or not
one has been deserted by him- or herself, whether one has denied some crucial aspect
of him- or her own self. If the worker finds, in work, an outlet for genuine self
expression, the task of working may be isolated and not lonely. Action, however, as
Arendt uses the term, a self-revealing, public presentation, is fundamentally inconsis
tent with both isolation and loneliness. An isolated individual cannot act. A lonely
individual cannot act in a self-revealing manner, having already been deserted by
him- or herself since acting requires not only engagement with other human beings,
but an authentic re-presentation of oneself. Action can propel one out of loneliness
since it is only in action that a person discloses her or his "who" nature: it is only in
action that we come to know ourselves, and are able to let ourselves be known to
others (Markus 1989, 121). Hence, the experience of the working mother may
involve both a multitude of connections and yet lack the kind of genuine engage
ment required for action, if the many interactions are lacking in authenticity, which
is to say if those interactions are characterized by a re-presentation of socially
appropriate roles, rather than true, lived experiences and are not accompanied by the
reconciliation of the two-in-one.
Note
I would like to thank Jennifer Ring, Jim Young, and Hypatia reviewers for their comments,
and especially Aaron Simmons for his timely feedback and limitless enthusiasm.
References