In 1993 Anne Summers wrote a letter addressed to ‘women who were born since 1969’, claiming that the world in which they came of age was ‘almost unrecognisable’ to women like herself, born a generation earlier. She reminded these ‘daughters’ that abortion was no longer illegal and dangerous, that married and pregnant women were no longer fired, that women were now entitled to the same wages as men, that women no longer went to university to find husbands, that more women could be seen in politics and management (Summers 1993:195). Thus, according to Summers, a revolution has occurred but those born after its effects had become commonplace are unaware of the revolution.

I envisaged this book as my own ‘letter to the next generation’, a celebration of the tidal wave of post-war feminism. From my own history, such a celebration seemed called for. I am an exceptionally lucky beneficiary of feminism. On the occasions when I have considered an abortion, I have always been in a jurisdiction which allowed it. My job depends on feminism, and I am an extremely highly paid woman, earning about four times the average income for women and about twice that of men. Marlene Goldsmith (1994:181) suggests women with ‘Dr’ in front of their names are taken more seriously; certainly I rarely interact with men who are other than respectful, at least superficially.