One Cheer for Lean In

I reread the book. I still kind of like it. I swear I'm not a bad feminist.

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Come for a long-gestating defense of Lean In, stay for some links.

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I went through a lot of iterations here…”Sheryl Sandberg holding up a copy of Lean In” was boring and all the permutations of that were boring so I settled on “sheryl sandberg playing an electric guitar solo and really rocking out” and honestly, I congratulate AI Sheryl on her pipes.

1. 

I remember when I first read Lean In. I remember my brain melting and sizzling. I remember marching into the U.S. News and World Report newsroom and telling Meg, the woman in the cubicle across from me, that this fucking book [holding it up, smacking cover loudly, repeatedly] was REVELATORY. I wanted to punch the air. Head-butt the wall. Smear on some war paint. Fight a horse. Eat a tiger. 

That was 2013 – more than 10 years ago. Today, Lean In is disliked, widely criticized, even hated. At the very least, it’s seen by many feminists as a regrettable fad – it’s permed hair and wide shoulder pads, the kind of thing that makes you look back and sigh, “well, that was … [pause, cringe]”

The phrase “lean-in feminism” is a pejorative now. “Lean In has been discredited for good,” The Nation declared in 2018. Michelle Obama told an audience that year, “it's not always enough to lean in, because that shit doesn't work all the time." In reporting on Obama’s remarks, Paper taunted, “Michelle Obama hopefully put the nail in ‘Lean In’ feminism's inevitable coffin.”

I wanted to revisit the book this year for a number of reasons. One is that in the last 10 years, feminism has changed – and not only that, but the way the world interacts with feminism has changed. “Intersectionality” is now a mainstream concept. The first woman presidential nominee came and went, losing to a man who bragged on tape about committing sexual assault. (He brushed it off as “locker room talk.”) “Me Too” happened, and we ladies looked around and wondered if – holy shit – maybe we didn’t have to shruggingly accept that we can’t be alone with that handsy male boss. The pandemic happened, and we all looked around and acknowledged that – huh! – when there are no schools or daycares to watch the kids, moms’ careers pay the price.

Anyway, I wanted to know just how poorly this book had aged.

But I also had self-interest in mind in rereading the book: I wanted to know if the book would still be helpful for me. I am now married with a baby, in a more-demanding and higher-profile job than a decade ago. Parts of the book that childless, 30-year-old me skimmed past might be brand-new to me now.

And so I have reread Lean In. I have underlined. I have nodded in agreement. I have rolled my eyes. And I have a sheepish admission:

I still kind of like it.