Women and success

Drawing upon her early empirical study on Hungarian women engineers in the 1970s, Markus’s essay does not set out to contribute to feminist literature on the psychology of ‘success avoidance’ among women. It starts from some reflections upon the paradoxical evidence of a ‘relatively low level of “standard” success orientation’ among a cohort whose choice of profession would indicate a higher than normal level of self-confidence and a ‘somewhat lower degree of conformity with the socially defined model of femininity’ (Markus, 1987). Markus’s research finds that ‘ even when women entered the public sphere of the economy, as in principle the equal of male breadwinners, for the majority of them success remained defined not through "external” criteria of career achievement, but in terms of personal experience interpreted as satisfaction’ (Markus, 1987, p. 101). It is not possible to reproduce the analytic complexity of Markus’s report and, while she would be the first to acknowledge the limitations and the datedness of this empirical research, her main thesis, that we ought to be cautious about prejudging the significance of behaviours that seem to indicate either a timid reluctance to pursue standard paths to success or a simple retreat from success, remains relevant.

In a world in which eligibility for ‘top jobs’ is determined by ‘extrafunctional criteria' that prescribe gendered capacities, rather than measuring actual achievements, women, as we know, face an uphill battle if they attempt to ‘dress for success’. There are other options though and ‘more or less conscious choices’ to be made about the reworking the meaning of success so that it reflects the singularity of women's experiences ‘which have taught them different types of loyalties and values’ (Markus, 1987, pp. 104-5). Markus's reflection on a feminism that attempts to change the meaning of success does not simply reproduce Lisa Belkin’s neoconservative ‘opt out revolution’ which celebrates a ‘mommy track’ that is content with the ‘chosenness’ of a life that is devoted to domestic virtues (Belkin, 2003). Again, focusing on cultural potentials that ‘ought not to be lost’, Markus is unconvinced by Betty Friedan's optimism that women are the bearers of a humanistic ethics that is capable of reinventing public life. ‘Neither have women (even the daughters) become so wise, nor society so open as [Frieden] seems to assume’ (p. 108).

For Markus, a critical feminist theory is to grasp itself as advocate to the politicization of needs rather than as the champion to an already constituted ‘feminine ethic'. Contributing to the politicization of needs that are embedded in ‘neglected life practices’, feminist theory might promote insights into ‘the importance of personal (and not just functional) relationships for life-fulfillment, the value of work well done for its own sake, the norm of helpfulness to others and the like’ (p. 107) as the grounds for a changed definition of the meaning of success. As it begins to understand itself as a politicized need, the demand for new ways of thinking about success, which do not require us to treat others or the self as mere means but embrace support for and development of self and others within its objects, shifts a ‘feminine ethic’ out of the private sphere, where it has been used to sanction gendered subordination, and articulates itself as a practical demand for far-reaching changes in ways of interacting as well as the transformation in the norms and rules that govern our institutions. A fully fledged aspiration to a life of ethical autonomy is central to this changed meaning of success. After all, if women are content to claim ‘success’ without participating in the struggle to change its meaning, they sign up for an unfair battle that ‘by its very definition ...

is not only an extremely restricted way of gaining social recognition, but also one that destroys the very idea of social realization and deforms the concept of human dignity' (p. 107).