Perspective Chapter: The Female Body as Sites of Power

Written By

Barbara Grabowska

1. Introduction
The starting point for my further reflections is Kate Millet’s
claim that sex is a status category with political implications
([1], p. 58). Sex, and corporeality in certain respects (sexual
characteristics, susceptibility to diseases, physical strength,
predisposition to perform given professions, etc.), has
political significance. Having a body identified as a female
body affects one’s position in political reality, condemning its
owner to a status of subordination. For Millet, the most
significant consequence of being a woman is being on the
losing side in an unequal distribution of political power.
Therefore, in a patriarchal society, the relationship between
men and women should be described with such terms as
rule, domination, and subordination.
However, involving the body, especially the female body, with
politics is even more profound. Legislation and social policies
have a direct or indirect effect on women’s ability to make
decisions about their bodies. Millet draws attention to US
regulations of her time that prohibited abortion. She believed
it was the way in which patriarchal legislation denied women
the right to decide on their own bodies and forced them to
undergo backstreet abortions ([1], p. 64). In addition to the
prohibition of abortion indicated by Millet, we might also
mention the availability of various methods of contraception
(including the financial method that involved reimbursement
for contraceptives) or regulations on in vitro fertilization,
which directly interfered with corporeality. Indirect influence,
on the other hand, is exerted by, for example, demographic
policies, such as incentives on childbearing, or conversely,
pressures to reduce fertility. In this context, I believe, the male
body proves much less susceptible to the influence of
politics, and any attempt to subject it to such regulations is
strongly opposed. In Poland, for example, the over-the-
counter sale of EllaOne day-after pill has been prohibited,
justified by concern for the health of women who might
overdose the product (although no such cases have been
reported). On the other hand, the purchase of potency pills
intended for men does not require a visit to a doctor, and more
than that, these substances are widely advertised on radio
and television. A man would feel embarrassed having to
explain his problems. Female body and female sexuality have
long been under control.

The body thus determines political status, and politics affect

certain aspects of corporeality. This is the reason why
feminists question the distinction between private and
public. Political philosophers assume that alongside the
public sphere, there is a private sphere, protected from
outside interference, at the heart of which lies the intimate
sphere. Meanwhile, when analyzing the situation of women in
the context of the aforementioned legal regulations, we note
that this division is illusive. Jane Mansbridge and Susan Molle
Okin note that questioning the above distinction means: “…
perceiving all action as potentially bearing public
significance. It means noticing that the force which
constitutes much of politics goes all the way down to the
tiniest gestures that express domination between people,
and begins with them. (…) Challenging the dichotomy of the
public/private sphere means emphasizing the non-triviality of
domestic issues and demanding that they be included in
public discourse. It is emphasized here that whatever
happens between a man and a woman at home, even in the
bedroom, is conditioned and, on the other hand, itself
conditions whatever happens in legislation and on the
battlefields.” ([2], p. 359). The binding of both spheres turns
out to be reciprocal: politics regulate many private matters,
and patriarchal relations that prevail in the private sphere
cannot remain unaffected by political decisions.

Changing the status of women from that of subordination,

therefore, requires making the issue of sex, together with its
corporeal aspect, the subject of analysis, and public
discourse. It is necessary to bring them out of a closed private
space into the light of day. Otherwise, it is impossible to
address the question of how the domination of men over
women came about and why it has endured. Traditionally, the
subordinate role of women is explained by referring to so-
called natural differences. The role and place of women in
society and politics came to be determined by the body. The
body build and its frailty manifested by the deficiencies of
physical and mental strength necessary to perform many
activities, susceptibility to specific diseases such as hysteria
and swing of moods resulting from the monthly cycle—all of
this justified the patriarchal model. Germaine Greer
describes a disease called “green sickness,” or more
academically chlorosis ([3]. P. 41)1, which was attributed
exclusively to women. Such ailments were supposed to
effectively exclude women from professional and political
life. In more “modern”’ times, however, it was argued that
women’s brains are organized differently and do not allow
them to succeed in science and technology, areas where
knowledge now translates into power.2 Therefore, women are
unable to fully understand the mechanisms that govern the
modern world, which is symbolized by the engineer.

2. Gender differences—Nature or culture

The belief in the natural differences between sexes was
questioned in the early days of feminism. John Stuart Mill, in
“The Subjection of Women”, in his fight for granting women
the right to vote, seeks to refute the argument of women’s
natural and inalienable otherness invoked by opponents of
their participation in politics. He asks: “What are the natural
differences between the two sexes? In the present state of
society, we cannot get a complete and correct answer to this;
yet almost everybody dogmatizes about it, hardly anyone
attends seriously to the only source for even a partial answer.

Because however great and apparently ineradicable the

moral and intellectual differences between men and women
might be, the only evidence we can have for there being
natural differences is negative” ([4], p. 308). As an example of
such seemingly natural differences, Mill mentions
specifically female health ailments and notes that: “we see
from the almost total disappearance of ‘hysterics’ and
fainting-fits since they have gone out of fashion.” ([4], p. 344).
It, therefore, turns out that it is not the corporeal constitution
that has a decisive influence on women’s behavior and
health, but customs and fashions. Femininity is not
determined only by nature but also shaped by culture.

Second-wave and contemporary feminists are far more

radical in expressing this view. “From the outset, our
observation of the female is consciously and unconsciously
biased by assumptions that we cannot help making and
cannot always identify when they have been made. The new
assumption behind the discussion of the body is that
everything that we may observe could be otherwise” ([3]. P.
5)—Greer concludes. Magdalena Środa, on the other hand,
states: “Until recently, it has been a popular opinion, not
questioned by many, that a woman is by nature destined for
domestic and family life and a man for public and creative life.
This conviction, supported by the category of ‘nature,’ never
actually required justification but still had been justified a lot”
([5], pp. 295–296). Citing Sherry B. Ortner, she lists three types
of such justifications. First of all, the female body is involved
in the process of species reproduction, for which reason it is
closer to nature than the male body. Secondly, a woman’s
body, especially its maternal function, assigns her to the
home, thus greatly limiting her social mobility. Last but not
least, women “by nature” have a different mental
predisposition. These arguments show that the (female)
body, to paraphrase Millet’s thesis quoted at the beginning of
the article, has political implications. This very body excludes
her from the sphere of politics, deprives her of the
opportunities to exert influence on political decisions, and
thus deprives her of the ability to protect her interests, as:
“the private world of women is nearly everywhere and always
subordinated to the public (socio-political) world of men”
([5], p. 298). Even if there are currently no legal obstacles
preventing women from participating in political life, the
stereotype mentioned by Professor Środa still prevails to
effectively discourage them from engaging in activities within
the public sphere.

3. (Self) disciplining the female body

Questioning the division between public men and domestic
women, feminists make a distinction between biological sex
and cultural gender. They argue that: “the male or female
roles are determined by extra-natural factors, regardless of
the anatomy and physiology of the external organs” ([1], p.
60). It turns out that it is not the body that determines sex, but
it is sex that shapes the body. This is because many aspects
of corporeality are part of gender identity, that is, that aspect
of femininity that is shaped by social and cultural pressures.
Greer points out that even something seemingly as tough and
durable as a skeleton is susceptible to deformation under
particular circumstances, like wearing corsets or performing
the job of a typist or a secretary, which requires a person to
constantly bend.

Pierre Bourdieu in his conception of habitus, defined as a

“system of dispositions,” shows how historical and social
conditions determine our beliefs and practices. He uses the
term social class, but I think it can also be applied to gender.
It proves, among other things, that the aesthetic taste of an
individual is closely related to his social position. Aesthetic
preferences are the basis of social judgment and determine
belonging (or exclusion) to a given group [6]. Our physicality,
body shape, hairstyle, and clothing, is also a way of
presenting these preferences. According to Bourdieu,
physical appearance is also an element of cultural capital.
According to Naomi Wolf, the body itself, not just clothing or
hairstyle, is an object of fashion [7]. Therefore, the female
body is not arbitrarily shaped by its owner but is given to
practices consistent with the habitus. “Everything related to
habitus, body language, gestures, and postures, are
internalized by individuals so strongly that they seem natural”
– also internalized image of the female body is considered its
own. They also fail to notice that: “the image of the ideal and
legitimate body (such qualities as beauty, youth, vitality, vigor,
grace, and harmony) are far from reality and the real body”
([8], p. 94).

Sandra Lee Bartky also points this out, when she refers to
Michel Foucault’s concepts and his descriptions of
disciplinary procedures, and argues that it is this type of
practice that produces a body that is recognized by its
appearance and characteristic gestures as feminine. Thus,
we are not women because we have female bodies.
Conversely, our bodies become feminine because we adopt
this gender role.

Lee Bartky presents three types of practices that shape the

female body:

Those that aim at creating bodies of a certain shape and size;

Those that bring out particular gestures, postures, ways of
moving, etc., from the body; and

Those that treat the body as a surface for decoration.

Practices of the first type impose a certain model of the ideal

body. Today it is the ideal of a slim, almost boyish figure. In
order to achieve it, women undergo very strict diets and work
out, performing exercises that shape various muscles. They
often become anorectic or bulimic, which are the present-
day conditions equivalent to hysteria. Practices focused on
gestures, on the other hand, lead to the development of a
submissive attitude in women. Hence the effort to appear
small and harmless take up as little space as possible or
express their subservience by lowering their eyes or averting
their gaze in response to the gazes of men. Decorating the
female body also requires a lot of effort. It is necessary to take
care of the skin and complexion, proper make-up, well-
groomed and stylish hair, and waxing. All these practices are
aimed at one goal—transforming one’s body into the body of
an ideal woman and into a body that is properly trained and
shaped by power relations that give it a subordinate status.
However, this is an effort that is doomed to failure. The ideal
turns out to be unattainable, and chasing it unsuccessfully
results in feelings of guilt and shame. It opens the way to a
conviction that our body is imperfect and defective. As Lee
Bartky argues: “To have a body felt to be ‘feminine’—a body
socially constructed through the appropriate practices—is in
most cases crucial to a woman’s sense of herself as female.”
([9], p. 68).

This body does not belong to her. As a woman, she “must

make herself ‘object and prey’ for the man.” ([9], p. 61).
Disobedience to disciplinary procedures is punished by the
denial of patronage, this means low social status. The feeling
of guilt is an equally severe punishment for rebel women. This
is because patriarchal standards become internalized,
making women extremely effective at conforming to them.
Therefore, the freedom that they have now achieved is proving
to be only illusive. In fact, they have been almost completely
subjected to a new, anonymous, and diffuse disciplinary
authority that has taken control over their bodies. In the
model described by Lee Bartky, the body is a product of
disciplinary procedures of power, which is thoroughly imbued
with politics. The woman’s body, by involving its owner in a
regimen of practices that shape it, even becomes an
instrument of oppression.
Since their bodies have been taken away from them, women
mostly do not feel comfortable in them. Millet saw it when she
wrote that: “Patriarchal conditioning and convictions seem to
poison the women’s attitude to their own bodies until it
actually becomes a promised source of anguish” ([1], p. 89).
In this way, the politicization of bodies leads to their peculiar
alienation. One’s own body turns out to be alien and hostile.
Anyway, it can hardly be called one’s own anymore since it is
the product of disciplinary procedures and the result of
patriarchal relations of domination. The subordinate status of
women means that the most intimate sphere, as it may seem,
corporeality and how it is felt, is shaped by power relations. It
is impossible to escape from being drawn into this
arrangement because: “for the sake of feeling oneself as an
existing entity, one can now only exist as a man or as a
woman” ([9], p. 68). Patriarchal power is holding on tight—
what has changed is perhaps the form of exercising it. It has
become more modern and less visible, but because of that
perhaps even more effective. What is now effectively holding
patriarchy in place is a rigid, polarized division into two sexes
and the need to be assigned to one of them with all its
consequences. “It is an essential part of our conceptual
apparatus that the sexes are a polarity and a dichotomy in
nature. Actually, that is quite false” ([3], p. 17)—says Greer.
Therefore, putting the naturalness of traditional gender roles
into question requires going much deeper and challenging
the very foundations of gender classification.

Wolf believes that the myth of beauty oppressive the female

body is the last remnant of the old ideologies of femininity
([7], p. 27). Therefore, it must be exposed and rejected.
Confronting this myth requires asking about power relations.
It is necessary to ask who it serves and who derives profits
from it. The appearance of the female body (or rather
constant concern for it) is a political matter ([7], p. 347).
Without overcoming this oppression, we will not create truly
egalitarian relationships.

Biology and nature, as suggested by feminists, do not

unequivocally delineate the male–female dichotomy. This is
because they leave a lot of room for interpretation. However,
this area of freedom has been appropriated by authority. That
is why it is so important to unmask the apparent naturalness
and show the political entanglement of gender categories.
“The ‘normal’ sex roles that we learn to play from our infancy
are no more natural than the antics of a transvestite. In order
to approximate those shapes and attitudes, which are
considered normal and desirable, both sexes deform
themselves, justifying the process by referring to the primary,
genetic difference between the sexes.” ([3], p. 22)—says
Greer. It is important to be aware of this in order to try to
oppose the ever-present patriarchal power.

4. Beyond the male-female dichotomy

Can the gender dichotomy be completely discarded? What
could it be replaced with? Liberal feminists propose the
replacement of polarized gender roles with the concept of
androgyny, that is, recognizing the entire spectrum of gender
identities individually chosen by each individual. “Androgyny
does not eliminate gender differences but is built on the
understanding that we are capable of both transcending
polarized gender roles and creatively developing aspects of
our personality that have been ‘neglected’ in traditional
upbringing. If we are all socially encouraged to develop both
feminine and masculine qualities (which are equally
important both for society and for the good life of an
individual), all discriminations will disappear” ([5], p. 322)—
as Professor Środa describes the ideal of androgyny.
Androgyny abolishes the traditional rigid division into men
and women, replacing the polarized identification of males
and females with a whole spectrum of individualized gender
identities that are combinations of what has traditionally
been considered masculine and feminine in various
combinations and proportions. This ideal is supposed to
depoliticize the body, as far as possible. This is because sex
here is stripped of its political significance, blurred in the
multiplicity of individual experiments, and transferred entirely
to the private sphere. Gender identity freed from social
pressures to become a “normalized” woman or man
becomes a matter of individual preference. At the same time,
androgyny does not question the existence of biological
differences, it only assumes that no clear determination of
those differences exists. The same set of physical
characteristics may be the basis for different variations on
gender roles. Corporeality is largely an area for individual
experimentation, the results of which cannot be fully
predicted. This means the end of the rigid framework of
masculinity and femininity that individuals must be forced
into with the use of disciplinary strategies. In line with the
general liberal trend, the sphere of individual freedom is
broadened and the influence of authority is reduced—the
body is definitely freed from the scope of political influence.

However, for some, this is still an inadequate solution. A

concept is emerging that completely challenges the
distinction between a given biological sex and a constructed
gender. Judith Butler is trying to address this issue: What
other foundational categories of identity—the binary of sex,
gender, and the body—can be shown as productions that
create the effect of the natural, the original, and the
inevitable?” ([10], p. 35).3 Therefore, the goal is to overthrow
the last bastion of proponents of natural sex characteristics—
biological sex. Its illusive invariability and political neutrality
are to be exposed, for biological sex, which was given by
nature, could not be impinged upon by power. And yet Butler
tries to demonstrate that she too is a product of certain power
relations—male domination and compulsory heterosexuality.
Thus, politicizing the body goes even deeper than Lee Bartky
showed—it is not just about the body’s shape, dimensions,
and appearance. The body is recognized as a cultural mark,
while the order of constructing gender identity so far is
reversed.

It Is not gender that is formed on the foundation of biological

sex (in a way more or less determined by the latter), it is our
perception of biological sex and perception of bodies that is
the product of cultural regulatory practices. Three fictions
need to be rejected: the belief in the unequivocal nature of
biological sex, the alleged internal consistency of gender, and
the binarity within the two categories. This is because they
only serve to uphold the existing order of power. Therefore,
with reference to the concept of Monique Wittig, Butler
reflects: “Is there a ‘physical’ body prior to the perceptually
perceived body? An impossible question to decide. Not only
is the gathering of attributes under the category of sex
suspect, but but also the distinction of these
“characteristics” as such. The body is, therefore, not a given,
something ready-made. We create it by distinguishing and
giving names to its various parts. It is also up to us what
significance we assign to its various elements. We are the
ones who have completely arbitrarily selected a certain set of
so-called gender characteristics. Our body is, therefore, a
complete construction from the very beginning. Even if there
is an objective body, which is independent of linguistic
categories, it is inaccessible to us. When describing one’s
body, one inevitably enters the perimeter of the cultural and
social system. Our corporeality is always politicized. We may
at best not realize it. Therefore, using categories taken from
psychoanalysis, Butler states that: “The sexed surface of the
body thus emerges as the necessary sign of a natural (ised)
identity and desire” ([10], p. 153). We thus find only the
naturalized, instead of what was supposed to be natural. The
alleged naturalness is meant to conceal the political
involvement of gender identity at the biological level and
create the appearance of its invariability. The category of
nature is once again exposed as a tool that sustains the
system of power.

Should we thus assume that: “… the body is not a ‘being’, but

a variable boundary, a surface whose permeability is
politically regulated, a signifying practice within a cultural
field of gender hierarchy and compulsory heterosexuality”?
([10], pp. 250–251). If so, the traditional division between the
private sphere and the public sphere is untenable. For the
very core of the private sphere, that which is most intimate to
us – —our own body—turns out to be shaped by culture and
power. How has that come about? In her explanation, Butler
refers to Michael Foucault’s claim that the entire sphere of
sexuality (including, of course, the category of gender) is
saturated with power, and that our bodies only make sense in
the context of power relations. Therefore, sex is not only a
category with political implications, it is political “from the
very foundations.” Categories of sex and compulsory
heterosexuality: “are not natural but political categories ([10],
p. 231), as Butler underlines. Citing Foucault, she stresses
that: The category of sex is thus inevitably regulative, and any
analysis that makes that category presuppositional
uncritically extends and further legitimates that regulative
strategy as a power/knowledge regime” ([10], p. 189). Until we
expose the power relations that hide behind the naturalized
sex category, we will not be able to change them or free
ourselves from them. This is not easy, as the naturalization
strategy effectively masks the matrix of gender dichotomy
and compulsory heterosexuality. Therefore, if we want to
change, if we want to abolish male domination and
oppression associated with the social organization of sexual
reproduction, we need to expose this apparent naturalness.

The awareness of politicizing gender identities paves the way

for making a change. However, this is not an easy task. Butler
notes that the authority that shapes our perceptions of body,
sex, and desire does not fit into the liberal model of the social
contract. We cannot negotiate the terms of how it functions,
because it is not exercised by a group of specific, identifiable
individuals in an intentional manner. It is an anonymous and
dispersed power, within which: “power relations establish
and limit the very possibility of will. Therefore, power can
neither be taken away nor rejected, but only deployed
differently.” ([10], p. 228). Neither revolution nor anarchy is
possible. There is no escape from being involved in politics.
However, one may question and challenge the categories
imposed by it and destabilize whatever forms the basis of
power relations—the dichotomy and unequivocality of
gender identities. This is served, for example, by parody
practices that treat the surface of the body as a space for free
staging. Such activities are intended to provoke reflection on
the naturalness of masculinity and femininity. The
proliferation of various configurations of gender identities is
expected to destabilize this category. However, the
deconstruction of identity is not the deconstruction of
politics; rather, it establishes as political the very terms
through which identity is articulated.” ([10], p. 263). Thus, the
right strategy is not an attempt at depoliticizing sex and the
body, which is doomed to failure; but quite the contrary,
treating one’s body as a “tool for political struggle.” This is the
only way it is possible to reinterpret the practices that define
gender identity and create new possibilities that transcend
and break the binary matrix. Thus, this is the approach that
stands in opposition to the idea of androgyny discussed early
on. It is not a matter of excluding corporeality from the
political sphere; quite the contrary, the body should be
properly handled in the political sphere.

5. The conclusion
Feminist discussions on gender address the politicization of
the body in two ways. On the one hand, they point to the need
to expose the involvement of corporeality in politics, which is
hidden under the pretense of naturalness. They reveal that
our body, the way we perceive it and the way we seek to
change it, is not politically neutral but is the result of power
relations. On the other hand, feminists do not wish in any way
to remove gender issues from the political sphere. On the
contrary, they indicate the need to bring sex and corporeality
into the public debate. They argue that leaving these issues
within the private sphere effectively sustains the patriarchal
model. Of all the concepts that are the most radical, it is the
body that becomes a tool. However both of these
perspectives underscore one thing: what seems private, or
even intimate to us, that is our own body, is, contrary to
appearances of so-called naturalness, strongly (and
according to some positions indelibly) entangled in politics.