On Tuesday, Walmart spokesmen announced they will be removing issues of Cosmopolitan magazine from checkout lines from here on out. The magazine will still be sold elsewhere in stores, but many people see this as the company buckling under the pressure of prominent advocacy organizations — namely, the National Center on Sexual Exploitation, which has compared the magazine to porn and says it contributes to our societal undervaluing of girls and women.
Executive Director Dawn Hawkins said, “Women, men, and children are bombarded daily with sexually objectifying and explicit materials, not only online, but in the checkout line at the store.”
But if this is what the #MeToo-induced future looks like, I want no part in it. A private corporation is well within its rights to choose where in its stores it sells certain magazines, if at all, but this justification is absurd.
Instead of indulging in fainting couch feminism where women are seen as fragile and in need of protection, what if we stopped seeing sexuality as taboo? What if we stopped pretending like magazine checkout lines are the next big frontier for gender equality?
And what if we stopped lumping all potentially offensive, potentially sexual acts together as one monolithic, certifiable bad thing? The NCOSE describes themselves as “the leading national organization exposing the links between all forms of sexual exploitation such as child sexual abuse, prostitution, sex trafficking and the public health crisis of pornography.” But these alleged scourges on society are all vastly different in form and severity — and attempting to eradicate porn will create a more sexually repressed society with fewer options for people looking for sexual gratification.
Given that Cosmo primarily offers subpar sex and beauty tips for women seeking to spice up their love lives, I’m not sure what’s so unfeminist about it — scantily clad women? The candor with which they discuss sex? Most of their content ranges from innocuous (did Tyra Banks get a nose job early in her career?) to risque, but relevant to women.
Perhaps organizations like this one should hark back to a more libertarian ideal: let people do what they want. Provide full information, but don’t attempt to control or shame what people do in the privacy of their own homes. Walmart can do what they’d like, but hopefully they won’t be bullied into submission by organizations who claim to champion female empowerment and equality (something hard to argue with, PR-wise).
The #MeToo movement made men in positions of power more cognizant to behaviors that make younger, more junior women feel pressured or coerced. Or it at least instilled a certain fear within them that behavior which used to fly would no longer work. But this feminist power-purge also had tons of negative side effects: the clumsily crafted Aziz Ansari story (which no doubt did some damage to his reputation) and Babe.net’s horrible reporting of it, media outlets limiting the number of drink tickets given to employees at the office Christmas party (and getting handily roasted online), and people like writer Katie Roiphe being shunned for voicing polite dissent in her notorious Harper’s cover story.
#MeToo certainly brought about some positive change, but support for the movement shouldn’t be bastardized into regressive, Puritanical views on sexuality. And we shouldn’t lose our sense of proportion: Ensuring men like Harvey Weinstein don’t harm young actresses is quite a bit more severe than controlling what Katie Roiphe says or where Cosmo magazines are sold.
Nudie magazines and lewd discussions of sex positions within the pages of women’s magazines will not be the downfall of America — let’s stop acting like they’re the final frontier for feminism. They’re not.
Liz Wolfe (@lizzywol) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner’s Beltway Confidential blog. She is managing editor at Young Voices.
