1. Introduction
Traditionally, misogyny is considered to be hatred towards women generally, or qua women. This perspective appears to be connected to the term’s etymology—from the Ancient Greek words μισέω, meaning “hate,” and γυνή, meaning “woman.” Despite the frequent association with hatred, in feminist literature little space is devoted to elaborating on what this means. It is more common to describe its indicators (dehumanisation, rape, and femicide), or to give an historical, social, or anthropological overview of it (Friedan Reference Friedan1963; Greer Reference Greer1970; Dworkin Reference Dworkin1974; Frye Reference Frye1983; Dworkin Reference Dworkin1987; Smith Reference Smith1989; Gilmore Reference Gilmore2001). Furthermore, there has been a lack of explicit discussion regarding the definition of the term.Footnote 1 Recently, Kate Manne (Reference Manne2018) addressed this issue.
According to Manne (Reference Manne2018, chapters 1–2), describing misogyny as hatred towards women offers a problematic image of it. She proposes, instead, a new ameliorative approach to conceptualise “misogyny.” Ameliorative approaches do not investigate how speakers understand or apply the term under analysis, but they seek to identify the target concept of X—the one we should be using (Haslanger Reference Haslanger2000, Reference Haslanger2012). If, as Manne does, we assess relevant flaws in the current concept, redefining it becomes essential. She defines “misogyny” as “the ‘law enforcement’ branch of a patriarchal order, which has the overall function of policing and enforcing its governing ideology” (Manne Reference Manne2018, 63). Her focus is on what misogyny does to women rather than on what people feel towards them.Footnote 2 However, Manne’s approach has some drawbacks.
The paper proceeds as follows. In §2, I summarise Manne’s proposal. Then, in §3, I present two cases that challenge Manne’s interpretation of misogyny as a sanction-distributing mechanism: women who face misogynistic violence despite (a) having done “nothing” and (b) actively complying with gender norms. In §4, I address her marginalisation of the affective dimension of misogyny, advocating for giving it greater prominence. I argue that relegating the affective dimension to a secondary role is neither necessary nor ideal. In §5, I present two desiderata for exploring the meaning of “misogyny.” First, an adequate characterisation should incorporate a structural explanation of the phenomenon by definition. To support this, I advance an argument that has not yet received enough attention in the literature: the need to be responsive to the asymmetry between misogyny and misandry. Second, we should relocate misogyny’s affective traits to the core of our concept of misogyny. Bringing affections to the forefront provides more accessible and nuanced explanations for understanding many manifestations of the phenomenon. Finally, in §6, I offer some remarks on how the proposed approach can help the term’s redefinition concretely.
2. The meaning of misogyny
Traditionally, the meaning of “misogyny” is seen as broadly transparent. Various sources refer to its meaning without sharing a precise definition (Greer Reference Greer1970; Dworkin Reference Dworkin1974; Frye Reference Frye1983; Smith Reference Smith1989; Gilmore Reference Gilmore2001; Kendall Reference Kendall2026). Nevertheless, we can identify at least two recurring elements. First, misogyny is considered to belong to the realm of emotions. While it is primarily described as hate, it can also encompass a wider range of negative affective attitudes towards women (such as resentment, disgust, or anger). Second, individuals may be misogynistic, and their misogyny is identified with the emotional attitude they hold towards women. When we observe a person who consistently mistreats and oppresses women, we can attribute their misogyny to their psychological attitudes.
Against this understanding, Manne (Reference Manne2018) argued that defining misogyny as hatred towards women is problematic. First, it represents misogyny as a state of mind, while misogyny does not arise from, nor does it require, internally felt emotions or specific psychological attitudes. Secondly, it requires us to look inside people’s minds, making misogyny a mysterious and obscure phenomenon. Lastly, it focuses too much on the individual dimension, neglecting the importance of the social context.Footnote 3 By adopting an ameliorative stance, Manne identifies these features as obstacles to making the concept of misogyny politically useful and effective. The concern is that the ordinary definition—being vague, obscure, and inapplicable—does not equip women with an effective device to denounce its violent manifestations. I agree with Manne that the ordinary understanding of the concept is flawed, and I broadly refer to her work (Manne Reference Manne2018, Reference Manne2020) concerning this matter. So the traditional view will not be elaborated upon further here.
Manne’s account, on the other hand, is aimed at offering a revised concept of misogyny that could highlight its political dimension, better explain its psychology, and delineate a clear contrast with sexism. Her analysis is described as limited in its revisionist scope by the correspondence between extensions and feminist usage patterns (Manne Reference Manne2018, 34). In this way, the new concept should reliably describe and predict manifestations of misogyny in society, countering the prevalent gaslighting of women’s experiences of violence (Manne Reference Manne2018, 12). The proposal advanced by Manne holds considerable merit in its capacity to reignite the discourse on misogyny and its societal ramifications, not only within academia but, more crucially, in public spheres. Her work has given “misogyny” new communicative and political weight, revealing the necessity and effectiveness of the intervention made. In what follows, I summarise Manne’s account to clarify its key characteristics.
According to Manne, misogyny builds and preserves a set of social forces that react hostilely to women. This hostility (Manne Reference Manne2018, 63):
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i. will tend to target certain women because they are women in a certain social position, and often because they have performed, are perceived to perform, or represent violations of the existing set of social expectations and norms;
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ii. will serve to control and reinforce the patriarchal order, in coordination with the system of domination that subordinates non-white, disabled, poor, LGBTQIA+ people.
Substantially, these hostile social forces are reactions to the real—or imagined—violation of patriarchal expectations and norms. To explain what mechanisms underlie these expectations, Manne elaborates on a “give/take model” (2018, 128–32): women are obliged to offer certain feminine-coded services and goods, while men are entitled to take certain masculine-coded privileges and demand goods for themselves. For instance, women are asked to support men through caring roles and are pressed to fulfil themselves merely as mothers, wives, sisters, and loving girlfriends. In her view, these specific gender-divided roles are naturalised and rationalised by sexism. Manne defines sexism as a justificatory mechanism, operating through patriarchal ideology, which serves to rationalise and justify the existing social relations (Manne Reference Manne2018, 79). To facilitate the maintenance of current power structures, sexism backs up misogyny, justifying patriarchy and presenting it as inevitable. In fact, within a misogynistic social milieu, women are perceived as accountable for adhering to designated social norms—described in Manne’s “give/take model.” It is worth noting that the specific norms the system implements may diverge based on the target’s overall social standing. A black woman will experience misogyny differently from a white woman, as will a trans or disabled woman. Despite this difference, according to Manne, all types of misogynistic practices share a common goal: keeping men in positions of power and relegating women to subordinate positions through the distribution of punishments and rewards. However, misogyny is selective: not all women become its target because those who are not perceived as threats to male domination should not be debased.
This explanation enables her to bring order to the manifestations of misogyny and develop a theory that makes accurate and falsifiable predictions. I posit that what occupies a vital role in explaining and predicting misogynistic behaviour is Manne’s reinterpretation of reactive attitudes, originally conceptualised by Peter Strawson (Reference Strawson2008). Reactive attitudes may be described as emotional responses to others’ actions. The idea is that people tend to react personally to behaviour taking place in their presence, holding others accountable for the social norms considered relevant in their community of respect. When women are expected to love, value, and care for men, and these expectations are not met, a feeling of resentment arises towards them. Relevant norms prompt the regulation of others’ conduct and establish a pattern of reactive attitudes. Strawson’s work allowed Manne to circumvent the psychological drift of the ordinary definition while describing the reasons that drive misogynistic violence from an individual’s perspective.Footnote 4 In this way, Manne decentralises the role that affections play in misogyny and still allows them a place in her analysis, albeit a subordinate one. The focus is now on the behavioural reactions that reflect patriarchal power relations rather than on the presence of a mental state of hatred. Focusing on the social background makes it possible to recognise more precisely which behaviour, institutions, or individuals are misogynistic. And it makes it still possible to explain emotions commonly associated with misogyny without relying on them to characterise the phenomenon. They are reactions to challenges to, or compliance with, social norms and expectations (Manne Reference Manne2018, 58–62). Moreover, while defining the misogynist’s attitude as resentful and personal, it is not necessary to check the correctness of their assessment to identify the attitude as misogynistic. The psychological target of a misogynist’s resentment need not resemble the actual target. For example, if a waiter in a restaurant does not serve the table courteously, we might feel offended. This feeling may appear directed at the waiter, but it is directed at the breach of the mutual respect that we expect to underpin our relationship (Manne Reference Manne2018, 50).
Thus, misogyny can be carried out by individual agents, also from Manne’s perspective. Still, only in a derivative manner: “an individual agent’s attitudes or behavior counts as misogynistic within a social context insofar as it reflects, or perpetuates, misogyny therein” (Manne Reference Manne2018, 66). What creates the hostile social environment is this broader mechanism at work, not the experience of specific emotions. Accordingly, Manne suggested using the label “misogynist” only as a threshold. To identify an individual as a misogynist, it is necessary to determine that their behaviour significantly contributes to the surrounding social environment. Their actions must be of a higher degree of extremity and consistency than those exhibited by individuals occupying analogous social positions.
3. Drawbacks of taking a reactive approach
In §2, I focused on Manne’s characterisation, its purposes, and its features. Here, I critically examine her reactive reading of misogyny. I argue that her framework appears inadequate either extensionally or in its explanatory power. Reading misogyny as a sanction-distributing mechanism renders certain cases mysterious and puzzling, thereby weakening the account’s predictive capacity. This diminishes the extent to which the definition fulfils Manne’s aims (namely, to provide a tool that can describe what misogyny does to women and aligns extensionally with feminist usage of the term; Manne Reference Manne2018, 12, 34).Footnote 5 Manne’s analysis of misogyny fails to acknowledge instances of misogynistic violence that occur despite (a) women having “done nothing,” and (b) women actively complying with, or promoting, gender norms.Footnote 6
3.1. Women who suffer misogynistic violence despite having “done nothing”
The first cluster (a) involves women who, despite having “done nothing,” suffer misogynistic violence.Footnote 7 This category encompasses instances of street harassment, sexual violence committed while women are unconscious or under the influence of drugs, and numerous cases of “marital” rape (broadly intended). I refer to an example from Manne’s writings (2020, 33–39): a woman who was raped by her partner while unconscious due to heavy medication she was taking for cancer treatment. Manne uses it to illustrate the nature of the feeling of entitlement to sex that many men experience, which seems to fall under the umbrella of misogyny because of its connection to the “give/take” model. However, assessing whether this case can be considered an expression of misogyny itself is challenging.
First, one can object that this case lacks an observable trigger for the misogynistic behaviour to manifest. The woman was unconscious during the act and, based on the description, did not act in a way that might be seen as “problematic” according to gender norms. However, Manne’s definition allows for cases in which women are “just” imagined as challenging (or represent a challenge to) the patriarchal order. Yet this case seems unlikely to fit into either of these two interpretations. Sticking to Manne’s report, the woman discovered the violence during a conversation with her partner, who described the act as “sex” and his satisfaction in having sexual intercourse with her while she was “passed out” or “sleeping” (2020, 33–35). This suggests that the perpetrator did not perceive the act as rape and/or did not recognise its problematic nature—as evidenced by his casual reference to the episode. Further supporting this interpretation, Manne recounts that, when questioned by the police, he reiterated his version of events without holding back any details typically regarded as evidence of rape. It is therefore difficult to characterise these acts as sanctions for a triggering behaviour (whether real or perceived) that allegedly prompted the rape, especially since the perpetrator did not recognise it as such.
Another strategy for defending Manne’s account is to argue that her definition does not require a violation (real or imagined) as a prerequisite for misogynistic violence to occur.Footnote 8 However, without this factor, the resulting concept would classify an act as misogynistic solely on the basis of the target’s social position. This response does not work because it risks perpetuating the very issue that Manne aimed to address in proposing a new definition: not being able to reliably distinguish between what constitutes a manifestation of misogyny and what does not. The term could be used to describe too many kinds of violence directed towards an individual who identifies as, or is perceived to be, a woman. Take the case of a woman being robbed. We can imagine that she has been targeted by the robber in force of “her being perceived as a woman,” thus presumed to be a weaker and easier target for that crime. I consider this example one that Manne would not be inclined to call a case of misogyny. However, by suggesting adopting a reading that classifies an act as misogynistic only because of the target’s social position, we risk being forced to call these cases as such. For this reason, this interpretation of Manne’s account fails to do a better job than traditional characterisations. More precisely, we are scaling down the predictive capacity of Manne’s account, which seems to be a key feature in favour of her proposal.
Setting aside the possibility of bypassing the requirement to appeal to misogyny’s sanction-distributive functioning, we return to the earlier challenge. Manne’s definition of misogyny complicates the description of certain occurrences, thus weakening the goal of offering a concept capable of effectively capturing and denouncing the specific oppression involved. This seems to guide us towards thinking that this rape is not an example of misogyny, at least not as Manne understands it. Is it, however, possible to find room within Manne’s work to interpret these cases as still consistent with her account, though not directly misogynistic?
A first possibility is labelling these kinds of violence as sexist (I have already discussed this elsewhere; see Grassi Reference Grassi2023). Manne defines sexism as the phenomenon that forms and propagates beliefs, narratives, and behavioural patterns that rationalise the patriarchal social order. As I understood Manne’s perspective, sexism serves to naturalise sexual differences to justify oppression: its existence discourages rebellion by convincing people of the justice and inevitability of patriarchy. Analysing how Manne describes sexism, it is not possible to directly describe violence as such. Sexism rationalises, does not punish, and serves to theoretically support misogyny.
A second interpretation references the man’s feeling of entitlement: the man disposed of the woman’s body because he deemed it his right to do so. If we consider Manne’s account more broadly, violence against women could also occur due to a sense of entitlement. Indeed, this example is taken from the third chapter of Entitled (Manne Reference Manne2020), which focuses on entitlement to sex. However, I do not consider this proposal satisfactory. First, it would not allow us to bypass this section’s opening issue: how to make sense of these violences as cases of misogyny. Although the concept of entitlement is ingrained in Manne’s theory and relates to misogyny through her “give/take” model (2018, 128–32), they are distinct concepts and phenomena. In Entitled, Manne describes them as working together, yet they remain separate (2020, 11). Women are expected to provide certain goods, such as sex and attention, and misogyny works as a policing force that regulates their behaviour and ensures it aligns with gender norms. Conversely, men are entitled to certain male-coded privileges and feel entitled to the goods women are expected to provide. As such, it is not possible to directly label instances of entitlement as misogynistic, unless they themselves work to enforce gender norms. This is problematic given the divergence with feminist usage patterns of “misogyny,” which Manne seeks to be responsive to (2018, 34).
Besides, even if one accepts the compromise of attributing the explanatory power of these cases to the separate concept of “male entitlement,” there remains room for criticism. This approach, again, diminishes the explanatory predictive capacity of Manne’s account of misogyny. It makes it less competitive compared to traditional definitions. Even traditional accounts may be able to predict and explain the existence of these cases by invoking patriarchal dynamics that operate alongside misogyny, such as entitlement. Additionally, the role that the woman’s unconscious state plays in the opening example could highlight further limitations. Interpreting the rape as either punishment for challenging gender norms or as an act of entitlement to sex overlooks a third possibility: that the man raped her because her unconscious state made the act “special.” The idea of entitlement helps us understand the “logic” behind certain behaviours: he feels entitled to sex and takes it whenever he wishes. If he is refused, a punitive dynamic (misogyny) may come into play. But he can take sex, outright, and he does. Yet, according to Manne’s report, on the same night the assault occurred, the two also engaged in consensual sex beforehand. Was sex also “taken” while the woman was passed out simply for convenience? Perhaps unconsciousness played a more significant role. For example, it could be seen as enabling greater control, exploiting extreme vulnerability, or completely erasing the raped individual as an interactive agent. These avenues deserve further exploration. After all, sexual assault seems to occur with regularity when the assaulted person is unconscious or semi-conscious due to drugs or alcohol (Heyes Reference Heyes2016). The frequency of such cases might suggest a new theoretical category of assault. Whether this interpretation is convincing, recognising these cases as potentially distinct from other types of rape could help us understand how unconsciousness might not be incidental but could play a constitutive role in the nature of the act, the relationship between abuser and abused, and the type of harm inflicted. For instance, Cressida J. Heyes (Reference Heyes2016) examined the specific harm caused by sexual assault while the victim is unconscious, semi-conscious, or transitioning between consciousness states. If we interpret these cases solely in terms of entitlement to the woman’s body or as punishment, we risk limiting our understanding of the significance of unconsciousness. While this aspect has not yet been exhaustively explored, some material exists that could initiate further inquiry (for example, the discussion of the Pelicot case; Garcia Reference Garcia2025).Footnote 9
3.2 Women who suffer misogynistic violence despite actively complying with gender norms
The second type (b) of counterexamples addresses cases where women, despite their compliance—or even promotion—of gender norms, experience misogynistic violence. I reference a case discussed by Tracy Llanera (Reference Llanera2023): alt-right women, namely, women who are members of an explicit racist and misogynist far-right movement. These women are at the forefront of propagating patriarchal norms but are themselves victims of misogyny, becoming targets of online reprisals, harassment, and abusive behaviour. These examples can be analysed as a subcategory of the previous set of counterexamples—that is, as involving women who, despite having done nothing, suffer the consequences of misogyny. The same considerations presented above apply if this is the preferred interpretation. However, I propose a further elaboration.
As an illustration, consider the second example presented by Llanera (Reference Llanera2023, 169): the case of Samantha (surname omitted), a member of the hate group Identity Evropa. Samantha reported that, upon joining, she made an effort to comply with the expectations of being a “good white woman,” including purchasing clothing that conformed to the promoted ideal of femininity. However, she ultimately left the group due to numerous experiences of humiliation, disrespect, harassment, and objectification that both she and other members endured. So, even those who seem to excel in reflecting the values and behaviour that underpin gender norms are likely to fall victim to them.
Moreover, Llanera shows through numerous real-life examples how many women who join these movements end up exposing themselves to greater violence and harassment from their fellow members. As Llanera put it:
[T]he better alt-right women propagandists promote hate, the greater hostility they experience from their fellow racists and critics; the more submissive women alt-right members become, the harsher the impact of misogyny on them. (Llanera Reference Llanera2023, 159, emphasis mine)
The violence experienced by these women is misogynistic. Yet, suppose we endorse only Manne’s account of misogyny. It would be difficult to explain what is going on when we observe a rise in harassment and acts of violence of this type. Manne’s definition was meant to offer an effective tool for denouncing clear-cut instances of misogyny. However, it does not seem to account for a possible trend where an increase in submissiveness coincides with a rise in misogynistic hostility. While the predictive model suggests rewards, we see behaviour that can be described as “punishments.”
Two options appear to be available: either to refrain from classifying these cases as misogynistic or to acknowledge a novel shortcoming in the extensionality or explanatory capacity of the definition proposed by Manne. Paradoxically, in an environment full of people to whom the label of “misogynist”—in the comparative sense in which Manne conceived it—would easily be applied, it becomes hard to interpret some of their behaviour and violence as misogynistic. This pronounced interpretation of the second type of cases, besides presenting an illustrative counterexample, has intriguing potential for future research, even though it would necessitate more evidential support to be studied as a prominent trend. Nevertheless, an account that views these cases with nuance might help us navigate situations that initially seem paradoxical but are not entirely disconnected from everyday realities.
In conclusion, I have argued that there is a lacuna in Manne’s account. It fails to satisfactorily address two cases: (a) women who do not violate any gender norm yet are targets of misogyny, and (b) women who are targets of misogyny even when they actively comply with gender norms. Therefore, viewing misogyny as a mechanism of positive sanctions, whether punishments or rewards, is inadequate, or at least requires us to reconstruct several situations in an overly convoluted manner—thus failing to fulfil the goal of providing women with a conceptual tool adequate for making the violence they experience nameable and understandable.
4. The role of the affective dimension
In §3, I illustrated how defining misogyny mainly as a sanctioning mechanism reduces the concept’s ability to address relevant cases. Here, I argue that the emotional sphere should be given greater consideration when analysing the phenomenon.Footnote 10 According to Manne, to make the concept of misogyny more useful for identifying incidents of misogyny and understanding them, we need an approach that circumvents psychological drift. This does not mean that Manne’s portrayal of misogyny is missing the emotional component, but rather that this dimension plays a secondary and marginal role. Hence, people should be counted as misogynistic provided they behave in a way that reflects the misogyny of their social context. Instead, I hold that people can also be considered misogynistic based on their psychological dispositions towards women. To support this, I contend that how Manne handles the affective dimension (i.e., moving it to the margins) is neither necessary nor ideal. First, the necessity of this shift is questionable, as the factors driving it can be tackled through other means, using tools already available in existing literature. Secondly, this approach is not ideal because it prevents the analysis of key cases of interest. On the contrary, by giving greater prominence to the affective dimension, we could enhance our understanding of some psychological aspects of misogyny. This aligns with one of Manne’s goals (2018, 34).
Before delving into the discussion, it is useful to provide an example to identify where the problem with the affective sphere arose. Manne mentioned a massacre that took place in California in 2014, in which the incelFootnote 11 Elliot Rodger killed six people and injured another fourteen before committing suicide. Rodger left behind a manifesto full of words of hatred towards humanity, but especially towards women, from which I report an extract:
All I had ever wanted was to love women, but their behavior has only earned my hatred. I want to have sex with them, and make them feel good, but they would be disgusted at the prospect. They have no sexual attraction towards me. It is such an injustice, and I vehemently questioned why things had to be this way. Why do women behave like vicious, stupid, cruel animals who take delight in my suffering and starvation? (Rodger Reference Rodger2014, 117, emphasis mine)
Despite the explicit nature of his thoughts—loaded with expressions of hatred—there seems to be in his words a tension between lusting after women and hating them. In light of this observation, commentators interpreted Rodger as a case of false misogyny because it seemed necessary to observe an indiscriminate hatred of all women to call Rodger a “misogynist.”Footnote 12 Although there may be cases of individuals with such dangerous attitudes, to think that these are the requirements to be met for someone to count as a misogynist would lead to never, or seldom, using the term.Footnote 13 In Manne’s view, the problem lies in defining misogyny primarily in affective terms, while the relevant aspect is women being punished, not the kind of feelings people have. I agree with Manne that this example shows misogyny. However, I am not convinced that the solution lies in abandoning the focus on the psychological aspects.
First, I challenge the assumption that avoiding direct reference to the affective dimension is necessary to prevent misunderstandings of this kind. A closer reading of Rodger’s example suggests that it is evident that he harboured negative sentiments towards women. His hatred and disgust were visibly exemplified by the language used to describe women, intuitively indicating misogyny.Footnote 14 It seems rather implausible to suggest (as some commentators seem to have done, Manne Reference Manne2018, 34–41) that Rodger did not manifest at least some degree of animosity towards women. So, the supposed inapplicability of the classic notion of misogyny in this case appears to stem from either bad faith or the assumption that the current concept of misogyny requires hatred of all women. Or that it is incompatible with experiencing other feelings towards women, such as affection or desire. I now address these considerations while maintaining the centrality of hatred to the concept. This clarifies that the issue is not inherently tied to defining misogyny directly in affective terms.
I submit that, even if we are willing to frame misogyny solely as hatred towards women, a person does not need to despise all women for their attitude to be considered misogynistic. Hating individuals within a particular category does not mean one cannot “fail to hate” specific persons within that category and experience different emotions towards them. As Mona Simion (Reference Simion2021) pointed out, the common understanding of “misogyny” does not exclude the possibility that a misogynist may feel love towards certain women, such as sisters or mothers. Imagine someone who hates university researchers overall or as a category. This loathing does not prevent one from not-hating a particular university researcher or a group of researchers with whom one, for instance, shares a personal connection. This “failure to hate” can be manifested in indifference, neutrality of emotional dispositions towards them, but also as a feeling of sympathy or friendship. There are various explanations for why this occurs. Some individuals might be seen as exceptions in the hater’s mind or not regarded as members of the hated category. Another possibility is that the individual prone to hate might not activate a negative evaluation because the “triggering” traits are not observed or perceived as relevant in particular circumstances. My aim here is not to favour one explanation over another. I wish to highlight the fact that several alternative views could show how the standard of hating all individuals within a category is an unwarranted requirement. This is even more convincing given that misogyny appears to refer to a form of impersonal hate. Misogynistic hatred targets a person’s group membership, social identity, or ascribed characteristics, rather than a particular individual (Helm Reference Helm2023). This applies to both prevailing conceptions of misogyny: the traditional and Manne’s. Women are not hated for being a specific individual, but for being a woman (in the traditional understanding) or for their perceived behaviour (according to Manne’s account). The emotions are focused on the group, with attention to individual members only in the background. Therefore, “misogyny” may involve feelings of hatred towards women without necessarily implying a blanket hatred of all women.
Instead, if what caused confusion is that hating women seems incompatible with holding different attitudes towards them, then we are facing a different problem—not necessarily related to the affective sphere per se. Besides, these attitudes were not considered incompatible in traditional works on misogyny. Consider the two elements in apparent contradiction with labelling Rodger a misogynist: attraction and hate towards women. They are not mutually exclusive. For instance, Germaine Greer analysed the disgust that men experience following sexual intercourse with women (1970, 279–93). She illustrated how male hatred towards women is also fuelled by the desire that men feel. Indeed, the portrayal of women as seductive temptresses who corrupt men’s innocence is a recurring theme in Rodger’s writing. The sexual attraction he was experiencing could be considered one element that fuelled his hate towards the “female” gender, seen as tempting and evil.Footnote 15 The imagery evoked herein aligns with the depiction of a cruel woman who, leveraging her physical allure and adeptly manipulating men’s primordial impulses, effectively controls and corrupts him. Feelings of this nature have probably fuelled his hatred of women. Or, at least, they do not appear incompatible with his misogynistic tendencies, where by “misogynistic” we retain a traditional reading of the term.
So far, I have argued against downplaying the role of emotions in our understanding of misogyny, showing that their marginalisation is unnecessary to address the concerns raised. Now, I aim to show that assigning them a secondary, or derivative, role could also be counterproductive.
According to Manne, only those who act particularly effectively, frequently, and systematically in favour of the patriarchal order count as misogynists (2018, 66). Therefore, individuals like Elliot Rodger, who is an incel, are regarded as misogynists because of their significant contribution to increasing hostility towards women in their social environment. Consequently, the key to classifying him as such lies not in his psychology but in his behaviour. It was not relevant that he hated women for him to be classified as such. Rodger was misogynistic in virtue of his actions towards women: he was aggressive towards them and planned, then successfully carried out, their killing. However, most incels do not appear to engage in behaviour that makes the world around them significantly more hostile to women than it already is. Their actions seem focused on regulating interactions within their community and with themselves, as well as engaging in acts of self-harm and suicide (Ging Reference Ging2019; Vallerga and Zurbriggen Reference Vallerga and Zurbriggen2022). Analysing the incels’ community reveals ample evidence of the hostility they harbour towards women, both in their immediate environment and in abstract terms. Nonetheless, this hostility predominantly manifests within online chat rooms where they conduct discussions. There are exceptional cases, such as Rodger’s, where violent behaviour is outwardly directed. However, the immediate impact of incel practices appears mainly confined to the community itself. Therefore, there are seemingly two groups of incels: those who are misogynists because they have engaged in actions that qualify them as such, and those who—although they display such tendencies—are not misogynists due to the lack of significant impact in their activity against women, even though their disposition still occasionally results in violent outbursts, such as self-harm. The latter constitutes the larger group. Manne’s conception seems to set a high threshold, excluding most members of the incels community. Nevertheless, it may seem counterintuitive to separate these two groups. Focusing directly on the psychological aspects would allow us to qualify incels as misogynists referring solely to their explicit and overt expressions of hatred. More importantly, it would help to explain the case of most incels more easily. Indeed, alternative interpretations that focus on this aspect can improve our understanding of the phenomenon (for instance, Srinivasan Reference Srinivasan2021; Melo Lopes Reference Lopes2023), thus better fulfilling Manne’s own goal of explaining the psychological workings of misogyny.
5. Desiderata for a new concept
In §§3–4, I assessed Manne’s conception of misogyny, showing some of its limits. Those issues reveal a problem on at least two levels. From a metaphysical standpoint, Manne’s conceptualisation fails to capture significant instances of misogyny. It fails to achieve the goals of extensional convergence with feminist usage of the term and to equip women in cases (a) and (b) with a tool to name the violence they are facing (see §§3.1–3.2). From an epistemological perspective, it renders some cases obscure and difficult to analyse. It fails to achieve the goals of improving conceptual clarity over ordinary understanding and of better explaining its workings from a psychological perspective. The arguments presented thus far have been negative. Now, I take the initial steps towards developing a more comprehensive definition. I propose criteria for addressing the question of what the concept of “misogyny” should be taken to refer to. I advocate for an account that incorporates both structural and psychological dimensions. Before exploring the potentially desirable characteristics of such a framework, it is worthwhile to clarify two points.
First, I hold that “misogyny” refers to something worth naming. This means that, despite its confused or limited usage, I find it useful to keep this term. Feminist movements have used it to highlight specific critical issues. It has helped illuminate serious forms that gender oppression can take, including gender segregation, rape, or feminicide. Moreover, the existence of the phenomenon it denotes is supported by ample evidence from cultural and societal practices.Footnote 16 Finally, using the term has a significant impact from a political perspective, and that reinforces the need for its ongoing use. As Rachel Loewen Walker stated:
Misogyny is a less palatable, and therefore less ignorable, frame for violence against women and feminine expression. Calling things “misogyny” invokes a combined fear and defiance; it is the concurrent sense of having gone too far and having finally named the truth. (2024, 78)Footnote 17
So, acknowledging that “misogyny” allows us to map something existing and significant in the world renders it essential to retain the concept. Without it, we risk depriving women of an appropriate tool to name—and potentially challenge—this phenomenon (Manne Reference Manne2018, 44, 81).
Second, it is helpful to clarify what I mean by amelioration, as I endorse this approach in answering the question about the meaning of misogyny. Sally Haslanger (Reference Haslanger2012) elaborated the notion of the so-called analytical (or ameliorative) research projects and, thanks to her work, they have become highly influential.Footnote 18 Ameliorative projects investigate how the concepts assessed should be understood, rather than how they are typically grasped. The aim is to propose an improved understanding, guided by normative purposes. Similarly to Manne, I take enhancing the capacity of “misogyny” to describe and predict its manifestations in the social world to be important. Nevertheless, I propose that tackling this question involves observing how it is experienced by those who suffer from it, as well as by those who enact it. To achieve this, it is crucial to address both the structural and psychological dimensions. An adequate characterisation of “misogyny” should: (i) incorporate the structural explanation of the phenomenon by definition, and (ii) treat the affective dimension as a core part of the phenomenon. The following illustrates a potential alternative to Manne’s definition:
Misogyny is the set of affective attitudes towards women, understood as a class and/or as a symbolic target, which is shaped by unjust social structures surrounding gender.
In the rest of the section, I will present arguments in favour of the two desiderata. Then, in §6, I will elaborate further on this non-committal definition. The goal is to show that there are ways in which the desiderata can be met, not to defend a full proposal on how to do it.
5.1 First desideratum: “misogyny” should incorporate by definition its structural explanation
I start by arguing for (i): the structural explanation of misogyny should be explicitly incorporated by definition. To support this claim, I rely on two points. First, including this element is crucial for accurately identifying the phenomenon we seek to address. Second, its integration is practically advantageous, as it provides a means to contrast the mainstream perception of the phenomenon as merely individualistic. This section emphasises the importance of the structural component from an explanatory perspective. While this point is not widely contested in the literature on misogyny, it is important to revisit it to avoid my arguments appearing anti-structural. I aim to contribute to the discussion by drawing attention to an aspect that has not received much consideration yet: the distinction between misandry and misogyny.Footnote 19
As mentioned earlier, all relevant literature indicates that “misogyny” corresponds to something observable in the real world, with numerous examples demonstrating its existence and importance. I argue that, if we do not want to run the risk of it collapsing into neighbouring phenomena, “misogyny” has to be linked to its underlying structural explanation. When discussing related phenomena, the focus has usually been on distinguishing misogyny from sexism (for instance, Manne Reference Manne2018; Pinson Wrisley Reference Wrisley2023) or on the connection with the intersectional dimension of oppression (for instance, Haslanger Reference Haslanger2020b; Loewen Walker Reference Loewen Walker2024). Instead, I refer to misandry here. This argument can be seen as a critique of the traditional characterisation of misogyny, which focuses mainly on the emotional aspect without explicitly addressing its structural explanation. I argue that, in this way, we lack a comprehensive explanation of why misogyny functions differently from other forms of hatred. Suppose we adopt the traditional perspective that misogyny means hatred towards women. Does this hate possess any distinctive characteristics compared to other types of hatred?
Take misandry as an example, since these two phenomena are often compared in public debate. Based on their definitions, the main difference can be explained by the targets of the hate. Misogyny is hatred towards women, while misandry is hatred towards men. It would therefore appear that, in both cases, we are dealing with gender-based hatred. However, this would be a theoretically unfortunate and problematic conclusion. Looking around us, we see how, while “misandry” refers to a victimless and less influential phenomenon, “misogyny” picks out something vastly different. There is a significant disparity in terms of potential danger to the targets, the means of expression, and the roots of each. Given how misandry and misogyny manifest within our current social milieu, how can we explain this difference merely by appealing to the emotions’ intentional objects? Whether the target group is women or men does not appear to fully account for the distinct presence of hostility towards women in society. Especially because, in the case of men, this hostility does not seem to take hold in the same way.
On the contrary, works that consider the structural dimension as a part of what explains what misogyny is can inform us on how to answer this question: misandry is not a politically relevant, concretely dangerous, and systemic phenomenon in the actual world. The underlying cause of this discrepancy stems from the pervasive presence of gender oppression directed towards women, rather than men.Footnote 20 In the absence of systematic oppression of the “male” gender, misandry lacks social relevance and does not pose significant dangers to men. This does not mean that misandry cannot exist in theory. If structural conditions were to change radically and we were to live under an ideology that systematically oppresses men and favours women, then it would make sense to speak of misandry as an analogous case to misogyny in that world.Footnote 21 Or, in a world that is not systematically oriented towards the oppression and subordination of women, even the hatred that certain individuals feel towards women would be of little significance. In this world, misandry and misogyny would be comparable phenomena in virtue of differentiating one from the other mainly in terms of their intentional objects. However, this is not the case in our actual reality. The most compelling and accessible explanation for this is that misandry and misogyny can be considered two distinct phenomena primarily due to the underlying social structures that give rise to them. It is crucial to investigate the connection between misogyny and these structures and incorporate this understanding into the definition to avoid flattening the notion of misogyny to that of neighbouring notions such as misandry.
The second reason to support (i) is practical. Misogyny encompasses a range of actions that should not be regarded as isolated criminal acts; instead, they are better understood when seen in the context of the oppressive structures from which they emerge and are maintained. However, this view does not seem to align with how these crimes are often portrayed. Perpetrators of misogynistic violence are frequently depicted as monsters, psychopaths, or individuals with alien or abnormal behaviour. Generally, misogynistic actions are not recognised as part of consistent and systemic oppressive practices. Instead, there is a strong tendency to present these cases as isolated incidents, ignoring the broader social structures involved. This is not surprising from a feminist perspective. It is one of the issues that Manne herself has highlighted in the debate over whether incel Rodger was a misogynist (2018, 34–41). Distancing oneself from such crimes by treating them as exceptions not only fails to do justice to the victims but also helps sustain the existing social order (Brison Reference Brison2016). Therefore, it is beneficial to incorporate at least a reference to the structural dimension of the phenomenon, so as not to leave the interpretation of its extent and depth solely to individual speakers. If we rely only on definitions of misogyny that do not explicitly include the structural aspect, we risk overlooking how these dynamics operate beyond the individual. Hence, it is advantageous to have a conceptual tool that recognises the systematic and widespread nature of misogyny, which explains the large-scale proliferation of violence.
5.2 Second desideratum: treat the affective component as a core part of misogyny
Now, I focus on (ii): we should consider the affective dimension as a core aspect of misogyny. This criterion could be seen as a natural progression from the criticisms outlined in §4. The arguments presented there, negative in nature, indirectly pointed to a significant inclusion of the affective dimension in the concept of misogyny. However, while I aimed in that section to show that the issues Manne identified in the traditional definition of misogyny were not a result of its focus on the emotional sphere, I wish to pursue a different line of argument here. I will present positive reasons supporting the idea that affections should be regarded as a core component. I will argue that: first, emphasising misogyny’s affective dimension makes its identification and understanding more accessible and nuanced (without hindering the recognition of its structural aspect); and second, treating the psychological dimension as a central element makes more available the explanations of the complex but common cases that Manne’s account struggles to explain.
First, appealing to psychology simplifies the identification of misogynous individuals and actions that explicitly involve hatred, contempt, and disgust—without needing convoluted explanations of underlying motivations behind certain behaviour. I concluded §4 by making this point, but I now want to reframe it as a positive argument. Let us return, then, to the case of the incel community. This example is ideal because it involves a community that openly displays negative feelings towards women and uses hate speech. They not only express hatred through their language but also often portray women as non-human, cruel, or brainless creatures. All of this is intuitively straightforward evidence of their misogyny (Halpin et al. Reference Halpin, Richard, Preston, Gosse and Maguire2025). However, as I have shown in §4, if we do not include the psychological component of misogyny in its very definition, explaining why this evidence counts becomes more complex. For example, sidestepping the emotional aspect makes it necessary to constantly refer to (and justify) the structural dimension of the phenomenon and its place within the broader framework of oppression against women. In fact, Manne’s proposed solution, as discussed above, was to define misogyny as only applying to those who are consistently and systematically misogynistic—thus excluding most members of the incel community. An account that considers the psychological dimension a central part of misogyny, on the other hand, can avoid this problem altogether without renouncing a connection to the structural level of explanation.
Moreover, examining and reasoning about the psychological factors involved allows for a more nuanced understanding of how it affects all social actors, which is one of the main aims I outlined at the opening of §5. A significant example is the subset of individuals who, though discreetly and inconsistently, perpetuate misogyny (e.g., most incels or those who perpetrate non-consensual sexual activity within intimate relationships). This approach enables us to offer alternative explanations for these phenomena that may be more effective in understanding what occurs across different contexts. To illustrate this, I return to the case of incels drawing on Amia Srinivasan’s suggestion to view the incel phenomenon through an alternative lens (2021, 75). Whereas existing accounts primarily emphasise dehumanisation or entitlement, Srinivasan argues that we should instead attend to the ideological formation of desire in explaining these cases. This perspective allows us to incorporate other factors driving incels’ behaviour, such as frustration stemming from social exclusion and from the social prestige associated with sexual encounters with specific bodies. She places greater emphasis on the psychological dimension, without reducing her view to an individual or “personal type” phenomenon. This example shows the theoretical advantages that approaches that better understand these phenomena’s affective or psychological dimensions can offer. They allow us to integrate additional levels of explanation that are often more effective for understanding and engaging with observed phenomena, as exemplified in the case of incels.
Second, characterising “misogyny” as a psychological phenomenon promises to do better in understanding why, for instance, cases of women who (a) do nothing or (b) actively conform to gender norms often go against Manne’s account predictions (see §3). Consider the case of women associated with the alt-right movement, which promotes racist and patriarchal views. Even if a woman follows gender norms and supports female subordination, this does not reduce her exposure to misogyny. A tentative explanation from viewing misogyny through a psychological lens might be the following. Living in environments with open hostile beliefs towards women activates a set of misogynistic conative, affective, and behavioural tendencies more prominently than in others. The spread of oppressive social practices helps create and reinforce environments where certain negative attitudes are activated more frequently and encouraged. So, in these spaces, when an individual is identified as a woman, their interlocutors are more often prompted to activate dispositions that can lead to harmful actions, such as harassment. I do not claim that this precise description of what occurs has to be taken as definitive, but it illustrates how this interpretation can facilitate understanding of these cases. The behaviour of women in these contexts, as in many others, is often not a reliable predictor of the behaviour of the men around them. Conversely, adopting a perspective that allows us to examine the psychology of those who perform such actions can potentially provide greater insight into how misogyny operates.
6. Revising the meaning of “misogyny”
In §5, I argued in favour of revising the meaning of “misogyny” guided by two specific desiderata. First (i), to make explicit the structural explanation of misogyny in the definition. Second (ii), to treat the affective dimension as a core part of the phenomenon. However, how to accommodate these remains an open question. Many solutions and approaches are viable. In what follows, I show how adopting this approach can lead to refining the conceptual revision work in concrete ways.
6.1 Misogyny: one concept, one word
Once the limitations of current understandings of “misogyny” are identified, we can consider different strategies to apply for design intervention. I consider three options: elimination (I), retention of the concept with multiple lexical items (II), and retention with one lexical item (III).Footnote 22 I have ruled out (I) at the start of §5, arguing that “misogyny” refers to something worth naming, and so for its retention. Now, let us examine why (II) is not the most suitable approach to revising “misogyny.”
If we opt to retain the concept of misogyny but clarify its meaning by employing two distinct lexical items, we could hypothesise two candidate terms: (A), which refers to how misogyny manifests at the psychological and affective level, and (B), which considers the structural level of the phenomenon’s manifestations. I differentiate these two terms in this way to illustrate an example aligned with the ongoing debate (Pinson Wrisley Reference Wrisley2023).Footnote 23 The proposal would be that, while (A) and (B) relate to the same overarching concept, they are expressed through two separate items. However, what should be the ideal candidate for the term “misogyny”? The most reasonable solution would be to assign “misogyny” to (A), given the clearer connection between its meaning and etymology (μισέω, “hate,” and γυνή, “woman”), and its closer alignment with ordinary usage. An alternative term could then be used for (B). Nonetheless, this might not be the optimal solution. (A) cannot adequately account for, without a clear reference to the structural aspect, the significant differences in comparison to other phenomena in the vicinity, such as “misandry.” Thus, we face the risk that either the term alone cannot provide an adequate explanation for why misogyny manifests in such a peculiar manner merely due to differences in their intentional objects, or we may be compelled to use both terms together. In fact, they do not seem entirely independent of each other. Both characterisations would lack explanatory power on their own. Employing (A) alone would make it difficult to identify the social explanations of the phenomenon, missing a fundamental level of explanation. Conversely, relying solely on (B) appears to encounter challenges in adequately explaining certain case studies (see §3 and §5). Finally, it is important to emphasise that both characterisations, despite differing in their levels of analysis, aim to describe the same phenomenon. Therefore, why not develop a framework that can accommodate both? Since they seem compatible in principle but face the issues outlined above individually, this approach seems the most promising for advancing our understanding of misogyny.
Given the reasons outlined, I advocate for revising the concept, specifically for a conceptual improvement associated with a single lexical item. The goal is to create a tool that helps develop a proper understanding of misogyny at the various levels it operates within our society. Adopting this objective could help provide policymakers with a concept that offers an accurate diagnosis of the phenomenon.
6.2 A path to explore
To conclude, I analyse the definition previously mentioned. This is a potential avenue to explore. However, I do not commit to this proposal. I discuss it to show that there are ways to accommodate the proposed desiderata and approach (III).
Misogyny is the set of affective attitudes towards women, understood as a class and/or as a symbolic target, which is shaped by unjust social structures surrounding gender.
Elaborating on this definition would require a deeper understanding of the psychological attitudes involved and a more detailed articulation of the relation with the unjust social structures it references. For now, it may suffice to understand this set of affective attitudes as operating in the following way.Footnote 24 X perceives Y as having the contextually salient feature of being a woman. This perception triggers an affective response (and perhaps a behavioural response too) that is informed by unjust social structures surrounding gender. By framing misogyny as an affective phenomenon, this definition inverts the focus from the behavioural response triggered to the affective one. Thus, it places the affective dimension at the heart of our concept of misogyny. At the same time, it integrates the structural axis of explanation. This axis should help identify a specific set among the affective attitudes individuals can hold towards women. They are individuated by their bond with social structures. As was the case with Manne (see §3.1), we should not accept a characterisation that subsumes every instance in which X’s perception of Y as having the contextually salient feature of being a woman triggers an affective response. Imagine Alex, a shy self-identified lesbian woman. Alex barely notices when Chris, whom she perceives as a man, smiles at her or accidentally brushes against her arm. However, when the same interactions occur with Jordan, whom she perceives as a woman, she blushes and feels embarrassed. The fact that Alex perceives Jordan as a woman and that this elicits an emotional response does not constitute an instance of misogyny. With this example, we can see the importance of incorporating desideratum (i). It should help us identify which emotional attitudes are misogynistic and which are not. Alex’s emotional response is not influenced by the unjust social structures related to gender, but by her sexual orientation and shyness. So, they should not count as misogynistic.
Again, the nature of the link between this set of attitudes and unjust social structures needs further clarification. The approach taken will significantly influence how effectively the characterisation meets both desiderata. Still, by incorporating the structural dimension into the very definition of misogyny, this proposal seems more effective than traditional definitions in capturing its political impact. In the illustrative example, I mention unjust social structures. I refer to Haslanger’s account of social structures for a proper articulation of what they are (2016, 2018, 2019). Here, I briefly discuss them to highlight another respect in which the present approach differs from Manne’s.
According to Haslanger, social structures are networks of relations constituted by social practices. Social practices, interpreting reality through social meaning, organise social and material entities in ways that assign them value, thus influencing our interaction with those entities. An example is what we consider edible.Footnote 25 This varies widely and is influenced by contextually relevant social meanings and practices. In most Western societies, for instance, a cat is considered a pet, while a pig is considered food. So, in those contexts, discovering that one is eating cat meat would likely elicit negative emotions, such as disgust or anger. The same reaction, conversely, is less common when it comes to pig meat. The difference here seems to be explained by reference to the social meanings and practices associated with cats and pigs—and, in turn, their meat. This relationship, though, could be construed differently if shaped by different social meanings and practices. What further complicates the picture is that the value we assign to various entities is an acquired habit that we do not tend to question. In socialising in a certain environment, we learn and internalise sets of social meanings that provide us with a theoretical and practical basis for evaluating the surrounding world. Thus, by actively participating in a social environment, we tend to develop a range of attitudes towards different entities, some of which are affective. Although such structures may facilitate social coordination, they can also unjustly distort our evaluations and interactions—as in the case of gender. When this occurs, in Haslanger’s view, the relevant set of social meanings is working oppressively as an ideology. The set of affective attitudes identified here as misogyny emerges from the influence of unjust social structures around gender on both society and the individuals who inhabit it. This marks a further difference from Manne’s account. Like Manne, this approach emphasises the social context and structures that give rise to misogyny. However, while Manne understands misogyny as a manifestation of patriarchal ideology, this definition conceives it as the result of the internalisation of that ideology. In Manne’s view, misogyny is the police force of patriarchal ideology. That means, it is the branch of patriarchy that enforces its norms and expectations (Manne Reference Manne2018, 78–79). By contrast, here, misogyny is a product of that ideology: the set of affective attitudes that emerge from living within a patriarchal social structure.Footnote 26
Finally, this approach offers several additional benefits. First, it maintains that the actual target of misogyny does not need to resemble the target in the misogynist’s mind, as Manne’s characterisation suggested (see §2). Second, it allows explanations of cases of “failure-to-hate” raised against the standard understanding of misogyny in §4. Since it depends on perceiving a certain feature as salient in a specific context, it leaves room for holding contrasting attitudes towards different subjects in different contexts while still being misogynistic. Third, it encompasses not only negative attitudes towards women but also positive ones, which can help explain cases that were previously difficult to understand. This element marks a significant departure from the traditional definition of the term and is responsive to Manne’s understanding of misogyny’s occurrences. In her account, if women comply with gender norms, they may receive positive emotional reactions from those around them, such as greater respect or admiration (Manne Reference Manne2018, Reference Manne2020). Moreover, it would also allow for instances of positive emotional responses in both men and women when observing the fulfilment of social roles, such as a positive reaction to self-sacrifice for the family or a woman displaying traits typically regarded as subordinate. There is not enough space here to expand on these issues, but I believe this could be an important feature of analogous accounts’ explanatory power. I shall leave it to future research to further explore how this might work.
7. Conclusions
The purpose of this article was twofold: to critically engage with contemporary debates around the meaning of “misogyny” and to explore how to formulate a definition that enables an understanding of how it behaves and manifests in everyday life. After summarising the current state of the debate in §2, I examined some issues with Manne’s approach. In §3, I identified two potential gaps in Manne’s account from both an extensional and explanatory perspective: women who experience misogynistic violence despite having done nothing and despite their compliance or even promotion of gender norms. In §4, I argued for a greater emphasis on the affective dimension within the concept of misogyny, countering part of Manne’s criticism of classical accounts. Finally, in §5 and §6, I focused on proposing a possible path towards a new definition of misogyny. If Manne’s criticisms of the traditional definition and those presented here are convincing, then we need to refine our characterisation of misogyny so that we can better understand how it is experienced by those who suffer from it, as well as by those who perpetrate it. To achieve this, I have argued that the definition should: (i) incorporate the structural explanation of the phenomenon by definition and (ii) treat the affective dimension as a central element of misogyny.
Acknowledgements
This work is supported by Grant CEX2021-001169-M (funded by MICIU/AEI/10.13039/501100011033) and by Grant PID2023-150569NB-I00. I have presented different versions of this paper at the LOGOS Graduate Research Seminars at the Universitat de Barcelona, at the 9th National Meeting of the Portuguese Society of Analytic Philosophy in Lisbon, at the 25th World Congress of Philosophy in Rome, at the CRESA WIP Seminars at Università Vita-Salute San Raffaele, at the conference “Old Dilemmas, New Voices” at University of Iceland, at the XI Congress of the Spanish Society of Analytic Philosophy in Seville, and at the BIAP Research Festival at the Universitat Pompeu Fabra. I am grateful to their audiences for their useful feedback. I would also like to especially thank (in alphabetical order) Claudia Bianchi, Laura Caponetto, Bianca Cepollaro, Esa Díaz León, Teresa Marques, Auke Montessori, and Martina Rosola for their comments and feedback on the material contained in this paper (and its earlier versions).
Biographical Sketch Margherita Grassi is a PhD candidate and a BIAP Predoctoral Fellow (Ref: CEX2021-001169-M) at the University of Barcelona. She is affiliated with the Barcelona Institute of Analytic Philosophy (BIAP) and the LOGOS Research Group in Analytic Philosophy. Her research interests encompass feminist analytic philosophy, social philosophy, philosophy of mind and language, and social epistemology.
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