Thank you for having me here this morning.
The topic today is women and power, so I’d before I begin I’d like to recognize Claire Shulman, a model of how effectively women can wield power in City politics.
Let me start by talking a little about how power is project and perceived in the world of government and politics.
The traditional model of power in politics is aggression and response to aggression. It’s the irresistible force meeting the immovable object.
Politicians attempt to impose their will on each and they attempt to stand pat against the aggression of others.
We can see this model playing out in countless examples over time and around the nation and the world. Think about everything from the Cuban Missile Crisis to President Bush’s invasion of Iraq .
Think about the first President Bush saying, “Read my lips, no new taxes,” or the way his son attempts to discredit John Kerry by calling him a flip-flopper, as though changing one’s mind were the ultimate sign of weakness.
To give a vivid example from local politics, think about the relationship between my predecessor, the first Public Advocate, Mark Green, and Mayor Giuliani. These two butted heads on every conceivable issue. They were unwilling to cooperate or admit to any common ground, in part I suspect, because neither wanted to give up any potential advantage.
You’ve all probably figured out my point by now: this model of aggression is masculine in character. It’s macho behavior. For the most part, politics has always been a macho world.
Yet here I am, the only female City-wide elected official in New York , one of only three in New York City ’s history.
From the beginning, it’s been my hope that I could help usher a new model of politics into City government, a model that incorporates more traditionally feminine virtues like mutual understanding, cooperation, and subordination of ego to the greater good.
Of course, nothing changes overnight and it’s impossible for one person to transform an entire system. So throughout my first term, I have often found myself at odds with an administration and a political establishment that want to play by the same old laws of the jungle: if you push me, I’ll push you back harder.
One result of this has been that I’ve heard from variety of voices, everyone from colleagues concerned about my reputation to journalists devoted to giving a blow-by-blow of the blood sport that is City politics. They’ve all said I need to be more aggressive, in effect, to be more macho in my approach to my office.
I find this interesting for a couple of reasons. First, I don’t hear many voices urging Mayor Bloomberg or Governor Pataki—to be less aggressive, to be more cooperative and understanding.
No, the burden is on the woman in power to behave more like a typical man. Having this burden imposed on me is interesting on a personal level because for so much of my life I was told the opposite: Betsy, be less aggressive, be less outspoken, be more feminine.
You see, I came of age in an era when women were expected to be demure, to operate quietly in the shadow of men.
In school, I was an outstanding athlete, but there was no WNBA, no Venus and Serena Williams to validate my ambitions on the court. On the contrary, I was told it wasn’t lady-like to compete with everything I had.
By the time I first entered City government, I had internalized and accepted a model of femininity that told me I could never hope to be anything more than assistant to a powerful man. And for many years, that’s exactly what I was.
Of course, I was thrilled to work for John Lindsay, just as I would later be thrilled to work for David Dinkens. And I certainly don’t mean to imply that the work I did had no value because I did it under the supervision of powerful men.
My point is simply that, in my mind, working for powerful men, albeit on a high level, was the most I could aspire to. I had trouble imagining myself in the other role, speaking out on behalf of the people, saying yes and no to policy, taking the responsibility of the City’s successes and failures.
I should also point out that my bosses were not the only models of the domineering male leader in my life. I happen to be married to one of the most strong-willed, outspoken characters in the history of New York City politics.
Victor was a labor leader, and in the rough-and-tumble political atmosphere of the day, he had to be tough, loud, and aggressive to get the unions what they deserved. Fortunately, he was just the man for the job. It may or may not surprise you when I say that in all the years I’ve known Victor Gotbaum he has never once been wrong about anything. At least that’s what he believes.
These were my political models. Given the way I was brought up, you can understand why I had difficulty imagining myself in their shoes. Nonetheless, when the position of Public Advocate became available, I knew it was my turn to assume the role of candidate and office-holder.
Throughout my career, I’ve seen it as my job to help people, both the mayors that I served and the New Yorkers who benefited from my work running the New York Police Foundation, the Parks Department, and the New York Historical Society.
I saw the Office of the Public Advocate as the ultimate way for me to realize that feminine virtue of helping others. So I ran and I won. And suddenly my feminine goal of understanding people’s problems and working with others to solve them ran smack into the macho reality of New York City politics.
It is the nature of my office to identify problems with City government. That is its expressed purpose. But in my judgment, that does not mean the Public Advocate has to be the mayor’s adversary.
I came to office recognizing that I had a different style and a different set of strengths than my predecessor. My goal was to cooperate more with my counterpart in the Mayor’s office, and I had high hopes that Mayor Bloomberg would also recognize that the gladiatorial combat that Mayor Giuliani seemed to thrive on was unnecessary and inefficient.
Unfortunately, Mayor Bloomberg and his administration do not take constructive criticism any better than Mayor Giuliani took heated rhetoric. I cannot tell you how many times my attempts to identify and fix an administrative problem have been met with denials, accusations, and innuendo.
When I learned that reforms to the special education system had led to an enormous backlog of students not receiving evaluations or the services they need to learn, I was told that my information was wrong and my motives political. Months later, the Department of Education finally admitted there was in fact a backlog and they would work to correct it.
When my office determined that the City was not doing a good enough job of providing people with information on how and where to get a flu shot, I was accused of making political hay out of a health crisis. Less than a week later, the City added 60 new phone operators to its flu information system.
Don’t get me wrong: I don’t take the attacks personally. As long as the City ultimately does the right thing, I don’t mind taking a hit or two. Unfortunately, though, I can also rattle off a list of examples—whether it’s overcrowding in City schools or the plan for a stadium on the West Side of Manhattan—in which the Bloomberg Administration has gone on the attack instead of fixing an obvious problem.
Remind you of anyone? It’s the same behavior we see in President Bush and his advisors, who refuse to listen to opposing points of view, refuse to admit to even the most glaring mistakes, and question the character of anyone who calls for a different approach.
President Bush and Mayor Bloomberg are like the stereotypical male driver who gets lost, refuses to look at the map or ask for directions, and yells at anyone who points out that he’s on the road to nowhere.
And notice the form that the Administration’s attacks on John Kerry take. The President and Vice President had a field day with the Senator’s comment that we need to fight a more “sensitive” war on terror. They did not hesitate to associate sensitivity with femininity and to call Senator Kerry’s manhood into question. In their minds, femininity equals weakness.
Of course, the President may not be aware that there are multiple definitions of the word, “sensitive” and what Senator Kerry actually meant is that the United States needs to be more attuned to conditions around the world in order to fight terrorists more effectively. Then again, being attuned to the condition of others is a feminine value, as well.
My point is that, while the male politicians struggle to prove who’s more manly, politics and government could stand to be more feminine—more attuned, more caring, more selfless.
I will give you a perfect example of what can happen when politicians and administrators cooperate rather than fighting for bragging rights and turf. Several months ago, I was contacted by a group of concerned parents. Their children had no recess time at school because their playground area was used as a parking lot by the School Safety Administration.
Behind the scenes, I reached out to officials in the Administration to get the cars moved. It took some prodding in the press, but just this week I attended a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a brand new playground. I thanked all those present for working together to improve the lives of these children.
Unfortunately, after the ceremony, the moment was undercut. The official there to represent the Administration accused me privately of taking credit for his project. So much for cooperation and mutual understanding.
As I close, I’d like to make a couple more observations. First, throughout this talk I’ve been labeling attitudes and behaviors as either masculine of feminine. I recognize that many men in political life are capable of being, dare I say it, sensitive to others. And many women are happy to embrace the nasty, aggressive model of politics.
But there’s no denying the central point: virtues like sensitivity, understanding, and cooperation are, by and large, identified as feminine by the political players and the public alike. And too often, femininity is considered to be the equivalent of weakness. So politicians—men and women alike—run away from precisely those virtues we need more of in government.
How do we break this cycle? First and foremost, we need to elect more women to high office. It’s great to see women in the President’s cabinet and in the Mayor’s administration, but to really change the dynamic, voters need to make it clear to politicians that they want more of what women bring to government.
Does anyone here not believe that this City would function differently if the Mayor, the Public Advocate, and the Speaker of the City Council were all women?
But it isn’t simply a matter of electing more women. Female voters also need to hold their elected representatives to the same standards to which they hold themselves.
If you think that listening is as important as mouthing off, that the well-being of others is as important as your own success, that sensitivity is, generally speaking, a good thing , then you should vote for candidates who think the same, whether they are men or women. And you should start this Tuesday.
Remember, the idea isn’t simply to strike a blow for gender equality and social justice. The idea is to make this city, this country, this world a better place by bringing a feminine perspective to government.
The value of the feminine perspective has already been proven in the corporate world. Companies with female CEOs are doing booming business. That’s no coincidence.
Slowly, America is learning. The sooner government is a feminine as the population it represents the better off we’ll all be.
Thank you.
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