Gossip Drop #9: On women bullying each other on the internet.
It's... everywhere.
While I know a lot of people who subscribe to my newsletter aren’t quite sure what a ‘Substack’ is, I’d like to share a story from the Substack universe.
A little while ago, Glennon Doyle joined Substack. Doyle is an author and the host of a very popular podcast, and for those completely unacquainted, her ‘brand’ is tied to her deep personal vulnerability. She’s opened up about her struggles with addiction and eating disorders, and seems to have experienced quite a profound journey of self-discovery. She’s American and I can hear her voice saying, “we can do hard things,” (which is also the name of her podcast), and while I sometimes think eugh what if I don’t wanna do hard things, I still have a lot of respect for her work. Doyle seems like she gets up early, full of energy. I feel like her Substack posts would never be late, if she still had one. Which she doesn’t. Because she got bullied off the platform.
Seriously. Grown adults bullied someone off a writing platform because they felt she was being greedy, or obnoxious, or too loud. They thought it wasn’t fair for her - with her 2 million Instagram followers and her bestselling books - to come into their space. It wasn’t very respectful. Like, don’t you have enough Glennon? Why do you need more? Meanwhile, Piers Morgan just joined Substack. Apparently that’s absolutely fine.
I have a lot more to say about current bullying vibes, but I’ll save it for the gossip section below. First, recommendations.
Recommendations
I have two words for you, and those words are: MUSHROOM. TRIAL.
I repeat. Mushroom. Trial. It’s all I care about. Did I know what a beef wellington was prior to this story? No. Did I know you could forage for death cap mushrooms? Absolutely not. Am I tuning into daily court updates about this case? Always.
I’ve listened to every episode of the appropriately titled podcast Mushroom Case Daily. It is, simply put, courtroom gossip. Sorry. That’s not true. It is comprehensive reporting from the frontlines of one of the most bizarre true crime stories in recent memory. Erin Patterson, 50, faces three charges of murder and one charge of attempted murder relating to a poisoned meal served at her home. The victims were Patterson’s parents-in-law, along with two other relatives. She has plead not guilty, with her lawyers saying the deaths were a terrible accident.
Listening to the podcast, I’ve been reminded time and time again that while the story is compelling in its strangeness, it’s also incredibly tragic. Some of the witnesses to take the stand have been the adult children of the victims - people whose parents went to lunch, fell ill, and died within days. There has also been testimony suggesting Patterson’s husband - who was not present at the lunch, having cancelled the day prior - was “coercive” and “abusive”.
The trial for the triple murder has attracted worldwide attention, and journalists, documentarians, authors, and the public are descending on the courtroom in the town of Morwell, about two hours out of Melbourne. It really is an unusual story. Women are very rarely the accused in a murder trial, and a meal is very rarely the alleged weapon. And not many courtrooms require a fungi expert. The trial is expected to go for five to six weeks.
On a lighter note, I finally watched A Complete Unknown this week and adored it. I understand why Timothée Chalamet went all earnest in his SAG acceptance speech, saying he was “in pursuit of greatness”. He got carried away by playing Bob Dylan. I get it. I got carried away just watching him play Bob Dylan.
Sometimes I find biopics hard to watch, particularly when it seems like an actor is doing an impersonation of a public figure, but A Complete Unknown wasn’t that. Chalamet is brilliant.
Finally, a Substack recommendation. When I first started at Mamamia as The World’s Worst Intern (no I cringe so hard thinking about the things I wrote/pitched/did. I literally just didn’t leave so they had to give me a job), Lucy Ormonde was one of the editors. We only crossed over briefly, then she went and built an incredible career, and we crossed paths again last year when she was the boss lady of the Mamamia Out Loud Live Show. It was then that she was diagnosed with breast cancer. In her 30s. Really fucked up.
A year later, she’s writing about it. Lucy has started a Substack called A Year of Healing about how it’s only now - after her treatment - that she’s starting to emotionally process what happened. She’s a beautiful writer and her first post has the most incredible metaphor for what it’s like to go through cancer treatment. Like being chased up a mountain by a lion. If you’re living with cancer, or you know someone who’s been diagnosed, I can’t recommend Lucy’s writing enough. It’s helped me understand the emotional experience of it all in a way I’ve never seen put into words.
Thoughts/Gossip
Well. This feels like a vibe shift. Actually, this whole newsletter is all over the place. Sorry.
Back to women bullying each other on the internet because that’s easier to think about than, you know, our own mortality.
Once Glennon Doyle left Substack, with an email saying she felt ‘unsafe’, a lot of people could see how bizarre the entire story was. Wait, why wasn’t she allowed to be on the platform? Who had she offended? Why are women, and not men, expected to constantly step aside,to not benefit from capitalism any more than we deem ‘fair’?
There’s another story around women bullying each other online playing out right now on Instagram. Prolific feminist and author Clementine Ford posted a series of stories, as well as a Substack (GUYS honestly so much sh*t goes down on Substack), about podcaster and TV host Abbie Chatfield. It’s hard to find everything Ford has said, because the stories have since expired and her post on Substack is behind a paywall, but here’s some of it:
“Abbie Chatfield is first and foremost all about Abbie Chatfield. What a f**king fake.”
“No amount of fake crying to try to launder her complicity in doing PR for genocide supporters like [Anthony Albanese] can change that”.
“She is completely shallow and frequently unable to actually prosecute an argument she hasn’t cobbled together from uncredited sound bites gleaned from other people.”
“This is why she fails time and time again to when challenged on her views — because she doesn’t actually know what she’s talking about half the time. She’s a smart self promoter and a deeply basic thinker.”
“And if you want to message me defending your weird parasocial obsession with a woman I can guarantee does not see you as her equal, please save your energy. I do not care if you think I’m a bad feminist for refusing to worship at the alter [sic] of an idiotic narcissist who cares first and foremost about herself and her own power.”
Chatfield responded with a series of stories, becoming visibly emotional as she begged Ford to “stop lying about my character and my intentions”.
“Please stop dehumanising me. Please, you can criticise my content you can criticise my work just I’m begging you to stop lying about my intentions. Stop saying that I have a personality disorder. You don’t know me.”
The ‘feud’ is now making headlines.
What we’re seeing, I think, is that women police each other’s behaviour in a way we don’t police the behaviour of men. Maybe there’s a deeply ingrained social reason for this - that historically, we haven’t had power over men. Or if we tried to police them, to challenge them, our safety was at risk.
But why are we so insistent on gatekeeping when it comes to women? We want to draw lines around who can be a feminist, who can weigh in on politics, who has a right to share their voice, what they’re allowed to say, and even who can be on f*cking Substack. Meanwhile, men are doing whatever they like. And they’re not policing each other in the same way.
I think women, consciously or unconsciously, believe there’s limited space for us. Again, this probably comes from a logical place. We’ve had to compete in all spheres of influence, in a way men don’t have to. A man is almost neutral, whereas a woman is a woman. She’s inherently political.
But the belief that there are only so many seats at the table, and that if Glennon Doyle or Abbie Chatfield are occupying them, they’re actively hurting the rest of us, is deeply unfair. That’s too high a standard to place on anyone. My fear, too, is that it compromises women’s ambition. We’re scared. Every time we see a woman publicly shamed, we internalise that shame. We stop ourselves from taking risks. From sometimes getting it wrong. From striving, from trying, because we know it’s impossible to do anything perfectly.
I don’t want women to be scared.
Meanwhile, a reminder that there’s currently no discourse around Piers Morgan’s arrival on Substack. Or the countless other controversial men who write on here.
They’re allowed to take up space with their thoughts, and have been allowed to for, I don’t know, 2000 years?
Chat soon!
Clare xxx
There is room for all of us even Boomers. Can we return to not saying anything on line we wouldn't say to someone's face? I want to see Abbie and Clementine in my office at recess please.
Clem Ford on Abbie Chatfield is one of the most deeply weird things I've seen on the Internet. They are aligned on like... 98% of their ideals. It seems absolutely wild to put most of your energy towards damaging the reputation of a person who has the same values as you but... sells them a bi differently, I guess? than someone who shares none of your ideals and is also, I don't know, actively being evil all over the place. There are sooooooooo many bad guys out there trying to harm women that Clem could criticise and then there is Abbie Chatfield, who basically agrees with her about everything. MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE?