CW: discussion of misogyny, gendered violence, self-harm and suicidality.
Please note that the names of some respondents have been changed in order to preserve their anonymity.
This article was barred from publication in Lot’s Wife, Monash University’s student publication, by the executive of the Monash Student Association (MSA).
In writing this piece, the author spoke to four students from different positions and political backgrounds who have all served as student representatives in the MSA, and they were all united on this very fact; there is misogyny in the Monash student union.
Everyone is always the exception
Charlotte (she/her), current and former MSA Office Bearer for the Disabilities and Carers Department, says that misogyny is not an issue confined to the MSA, but one that afflicts “all of student politics”, noting that those who perpetuate this misogyny are often “in control of a massive amount of money and power” by virtue of their positions.
Whilst the different factions in student politics may be quick to lay the blame on their opponents, Charlotte highlights their hypocrisy. “They are all guilty of the same thing. They all run around accusing the other side of being misogynists but it’s all of them… the worst offenders [were] often the convenors of tickets, because they are the more serious politicians.”
Some of the common experiences amongst the interviewees I spoke to were being interrupted, intimidated, manipulated, mansplained to, and constantly undermined. Aishwariya (she/her), current Lot’s Wife editor and former Office Bearer, says misogynistic influences have created a “culture where assertiveness, dominance, and control are valued over empathy, collaboration, and equity.”
She says these behaviours are distinctly gendered because they are “specifically targeted at women, especially those who challenge male-dominated spaces or refuse to conform to expectations around how women ‘should’ behave.”
Former Women’s Office Bearer Julia (she/her) adds that male representatives will also often “take credit for a woman's work when it suits them.” Concerningly, episodes of anger demonstrated by men are not uncommon either.
Emily (she/they), formerly a highly involved student representative, says she has been consistently made to feel “unsafe” within the MSA by displays of “extreme anger” and “emotional manipulation.”
Charlotte also witnessed behaviour of this kind, and described the volatile reactions a student representative exhibited whenever he did not get his way. “It's literally like a switch flips when I say no. He would get very, very angry, and then would sit there smiling and blinking as if it was a totally normal thing to say to someone.”
Another harrowing experience for Charlotte occurred ahead of the 2024 student elections, when she founded an independent ticket, Access. Meeting with male leaders from the two largest tickets on campus to discuss potential preference deals, she says one threatened to have her “run out of the [MSA]”, while the other took the opportunity to detail unsolicited criticisms of Charlotte’s work as Office Bearer for the Disabilities and Carer’s Department.
Performance over progress
Whilst many men in the MSA have attempted to appear in solidarity with women, Aishwariya describes these efforts as “superficial”, saying these attempts were “more about optics than real action.” She explains how male representatives exhibit “performative allyship to gain support without any real intention of addressing issues that affect women.”
Analogising with the recent and satirical online trends of Clairo-loving-matcha-drinking performative male manipulators, Julia says “[the] performative male in student politics will champion feminism while putting women in unfair and disadvantaged situations.”
Charlotte adds that “it’s often the ones that position themselves as the most progressive that treat women the worst. You have [men] putting up motions about violence against women and then screaming at women in the Monash Student Council.”
The trickle-down effect
Amongst the students I spoke to, one leading theory as to how this culture of misogyny developed was that student politics is simply a microcosm of real-world politics; that the misogyny in our student union is a mirror of the misogyny in our government, and in our broader society.
It is not uncommon for student politicians to work in real-world parliamentary offices whilst serving as elected student representatives, and Charlotte says the influence of these environments on individual behaviours is evident. “We know parliament is not great for women... and I do think that has an impact on what is viewed as okay”.
Julia posits that many student politicians aspire to “impress major political parties and establish themselves” by exhibiting influence with little regard for the harm their behaviour causes.
This political pipeline from student representative to real-world parliamentary staff seems to have enabled the normalisation of manipulative and misogynistic behaviours through a means-to-an-end mentality; a belief that even harmful measures can be justified in the pursuit of political victories, particularly if these perceived successes can bulk up a careerist’s resume.
Charlotte says that despite “being reported at all levels for all sorts of things” many perpetrators have never faced consequences for their actions and now work in politics. For Julia, knowledge that perpetrators can be rewarded with professional opportunities is making her “really concerned about the future of government in this country.”
Misogyny’s accomplices
Several interviewees noted that misogyny is often perpetrated concurrently alongside intersecting forms of oppression such as racism, ableism, and queerphobia.
Charlotte says her concerns regarding ableism in the MSA and university more broadly have not been taken seriously by other representatives who engage in limited and “very performative” consultation. “They would say ‘we’ve asked our resident disabled person and they say that we’re not ableist’.”
For Emily, their experience as a gender diverse and queer person often made them “the perfect target as a shield” to be invoked by other representatives to claim “that they couldn't be homophobic or sexist simply because they had supported/spoken to [Emily].” This argument reduces meaningful engagement with marginalised communities to tokenistic check-box exercises designed to insure against valid criticisms of concerning behaviours.
Aishwariya says her experience of misogyny was a "double burden” due to the way women of colour can be “villainised through racialised stereotypes.” She has observed that when women of colour “speak up” about issues such as misogyny, they are frequently dismissed and “stereotyped as being overly assertive, angry, or difficult.”
Consequences – for victims, not perpetrators
What is the net effect of misogyny in a student union? The systemic consequences are difficult to quantify, but Charlotte says that many people that “would be fantastic” student representatives are instead leaving the MSA “traumatised.” The paradox here is that the very people that the MSA needs – to challenge misogynistic behaviours and attitudes – are often the ones who are alienated.
She has also observed that misogynistic attitudes are rarely conveyed in written communication, allowing perpetrators to maintain plausible deniability, and further limiting the avenues of reporting open to those victimised. “They know how to do it in a way that they won't be caught. They will continue going on to do this. There is nothing that follows them. There is nothing recorded, so why wouldn't they go on to say it to the next person?” Aishwariya noted that misogynistic behaviours are also “often masked as political disagreement or personal rivalry”, allowing perpetrators to further obfuscate responsibility.
For Julia, her experiences of misogyny in the MSA became a “very emotionally taxing experience,” a sentiment shared by Charlotte. “You do start to question if you are the problem.” She says that one of the main things that ultimately kept her involved for so long was the knowledge that disrespectful attitudes too often go unchallenged, particularly in student council meetings, and a subsequent desire to change that fact.
Emily recalled how the “constant attacks on [their] character” eventually caused their “self-esteem and self-worth to crumble.” When she said she wanted to resign, her male counterparts told her that if she tried, they would delete her email of resignation so that they never had to act on it. She says she felt “belittled and small” and was left with a “constant feeling of being trapped.” The immense stress, self-doubt and “imposter syndrome” she felt drove her to suicidality and self-harm during her time in the MSA. Ultimately, she left student politics and student unionism entirely.
The bottom line
The very people we need most in our student union right now – critically and independently minded young women and gender diverse students– are the very people that the system is burning out at a record rate. For those who want to change the MSA’s misogynistic culture, the MSA seems an unsustainable environment in which to exist.
Yet the students I spoke to still believe that there is scope for change, but not without reform to reporting processes in both the MSA and Monash University more broadly.
Charlotte claims the MSA’s HR department is “essentially powerless” in penalising students for misconduct. Emily noted that it took some eight months for disciplinary action to be taken against a student representative she reported to both the MSA HR and Monash Student General Misconduct departments.
Seeking an alternative approach, Charlotte reported her experience to the University’s Safer Community Unit, an independent department designed to address “disclosures of concerning, threatening and inappropriate behaviour.” She was told that, without written evidence of the reported incidents, there was little they could do. “The university needs to do more– if someone is reported for their behaviour, there needs to be some action," Charlotte argued, saying it has also made her concerned about the efficacy of Monash University’s reporting processes more broadly. Among the other preventative and responsive measures discussed were greater education for student representatives on their rights and responsibilities in the MSA, autonomous meetings for women in the organisation, diversified leadership teams, and mandatory toxic masculinity training.
Emily additionally noted the importance of peer intervention saying “students in the MSA also need to hold other students accountable for their actions.” She argues that male students need to start “taking ownership when they are called out. It is not always about the intention, but also the result of behaviour and how it affects others that matters too.”
Aishwariya suggests that the silence of many student representatives on this issue is the product of a culture that “rewards loyalty over accountability and prioritises maintaining alliances over doing what is right.”
Misogyny in student unions like the MSA is but one symptom of a system designed for advocacy now buckling under the weight of unbridled personal and political ambitions. Charlotte says that while many people start out “with the best intentions, the longer they are in [student politics], the more…they start emulating those behaviours of intimidation.” Whilst Emily still believes that “student unionism is a very valuable part of university culture,” she says these toxic behaviours are ultimately resulting in “well-meaning and passionate people” being alienated from organising spaces “in favour of careerists and power-hungry individuals.”