The most enduring stereotypes about feminists is that they are manhaters. Interestingly, few empirical studies have examined this stereotype for its veracity. Chapter 4 critically examines the stereotype that feminists dislike men and that feminism is a movement against men. Social psychological research on women’s attitudes toward men is examined and finds that anti-feminists actually feel more hostility toward men than do feminists. The function and implication of the manhating feminist myth is critically examined in this chapter. The feminist manhater myth persists in order to undermine the feminist movement and to drive a wedge between traditional and non-traditional women. Related strategies to make feminism unpalatable, such as lesbian-baiting, are also critically examined. Chapter 4 ends with strategies to reduce the impact of the manhater stereotype and to foster gender equality. The empirical work measuring the effects of women/gender studies classes on students is presented, and teaching children about gender discrimination are some strategies presented.

Chapter 1 addresses the false belief that prejudice and discrimination are individual in nature and not systemic or institutional. Many people believe that racism, sexism, or homophobia comprise an individual’s negative feelings toward marginalized groups – a person has hate in their heart and discriminates against the relevant target. It is certainly the case that people can hate members of certain groups and that hate can manifest in discrimination. However, inequality is also refleted in insitutions. It is systemic and structural. That is, inequality is reflected in laws, policies, and practices, and is baked into insititutions such as health care, the criminal legal system, marriage, education, the military, and so on. Chapter 1 describes the key terms associated with systemic inequality, and describes the process by which systemic inequality is established and maintained. The chapter concludes with strategies to reduce systemic and structural inequality.

The Conclusion describes the stakes of ignoring the impact of bigotry. In particular, the ways in which bigotry impacts the lives of those who benefit from it are a focus.

Chapter 9 reveals that the circular patterns of norm renegotiation manifest at the national level in India’s broader women’s movement. It describes the history of this movement and then use ACLED data on all women-led protest events in India from 2016 to 2021 to illustrate the breadth of women’s collective mobilization and the range of demands raised. Women most often come together to protest more explicitly gendered issues, such as gender-based violence. However, many women-led protests focus on other demands, including improved government accountability and service delivery. The nature of women’s demand-making suggests possibilities for both gender equality and improved governance with their political inclusion. Finally, it documents broader patterns of resistance to women’s collective action at the national scale, documenting a range of explicit instances of violent backlash and summarizing the rise of the men’s rights movement in India. This provides further evidence of male coercion and suggests conditions under which women’s collective action can succeed.

Chapter 8 demonstrates that such effects can be augmented by stimulating solidarity among women with a focus on gender consciousness-raising, but that such actions generate backlash. It tests the importance of social solidarity in stimulating women’s collective action by exploiting arbitrary variation in the delivery of a gender consciousness-raising program to SHGs. It shows that women are more likely to undertake collective action after identifying shared experiences of deprivation and forming a bond based on their gender identity. This collective action is also more likely to be aimed at women’s strategic interests – their interests rooted in their patriarchal suppression – and therefore garner more resistance from men in the community, including through increased experiences of (public) violence and harassment. It shows that women navigate this resistance through their collective strength and solidarity.

The author assesses the role of consent in processes of binding dispute resolution before international courts and tribunals. He seeks to demonstrate that ‘consent’ has a particular role in binding dispute resolution. This particular role derives from the special nature of binding dispute resolution processes. They are intrusive and characterized by their uncertain outcome: the implications of State consent to the dispute resolution process crucially depend on decisions of an independent entity, namely an international court or tribunal. Because this is so, States insist on the need for consent, as a precondition of any binding dispute resolution process. At the same time, once consent has been given, control shifts to the competent international court or tribunal. Moreover, by virtue of their decision-making authority, many international courts and tribunals have managed to assert at least a persuasive influence over proper construction of the legal rules at stake, extending beyond the cases immediately pending before them. The chapter traces these peculiarities and examines how the tension between State and courts’ authority plays out in particular disputes.

As scholars and activists seek to define and promote greater corporate political responsibility (CPR), they will benefit from understanding practitioner perspectives and how executives are responding to rising scrutiny of their political influences, reputational risk and pressure from employees, customers and investors to get involved in civic, political, and societal issues. This chapter draws on firsthand conversations with practitioners, including executives in government affairs; sustainability; senior leadership; and diversity, equity and inclusion, during the launch of a university-based CPR initiative. I summarize practitioner motivations, interests, barriers and challenges related to engaging in conversations about CPR, as well as committing or acting to improve CPR. Following the summary, I present implications for further research and several possible paths forward, including leveraging practitioners’ value on accountability, sustaining external calls for transparency, strengthening awareness of systems, and reframing CPR as part of a larger dialogue around society’s “social contract.”

The conclusion identifies the key turning points in the Court’s jurisprudence in light of the established theoretical framework and presents several key findings that further the debate on judicial politics and on the backlash. The main takeaway is that international courts may not always attempt to expand their power. On the contrary, concern for institutional survival or public image may compel them to under-utilize their power. Courts will follow forbearing or selectively forbearing policies to prevent or mitigate political pushback or backlash. They will reserve audacity or selective audacity for moments when they feel safe from political repercussions. Drawing upon my analysis of the Court over five decades, I call for historicizing the current instances of backlash against international courts and liberal institutions. At least in the context of the European Court, an important lesson is that the backlash is not unique to today’s political climate. The Court has seen different episodes of backlash and, as a result, it has forged a resilience strategy to fend off or pre-empt backlash. Such strategies can also be traced in other courts and institutions with delegated authority.

This chapter discusses the current trends at the reformed Court against the backdrop of recent reform initiatives, as well as the general atmosphere of widespread negative feedback and backlash since the 2010s. To do so, it relies on the results of the content analysis carried out on the case law between 1967 and 2016, a close reading of some of the recent landmark judgments, and the insights gathered from elite interviews conducted with current and former judges. This assessment shows the extent to which the reformed Court resorts to selective forbearance. I find that the reformed Court, challenged by widespread negative feedback, selectively pays heed to member states’ concerns. That is, it continues a progressive line of reasoning when it comes to certain core obligations, such as the obligation to refrain from using excessive force while policing or the provision of legal protection and remedy. Yet, it adopts a more forbearing attitude towards certain other obligations, such as the obligation to uphold the non-refoulement principle, the provision of sufficient medical care in detention centers, or the provision of acceptable detention conditions to (irregular) migrants or asylum seekers.

Chapter 5 turns to an examination of the ties between working-class representatives and constituents, by taking an in-depth look at the relationship between labor unions, political parties, and workers in Argentina and Mexico. We show that the evolution of unions and parties throughout history lead to working-class deputies in Argentina having stronger ties to workers and a better track record of policy representation than working-class deputies in Mexico. Then we leverage an original dataset of working-class representation over time and across states in Argentina and Mexico to show empirically that whereas increases in working-class representation in Argentina are associated with citizens evaluating their representative institutions more positively, the increased presence of working-class legislators in Mexico leads to backlash and more negative evaluations of legislatures and political parties.

Chapter 4 addresses the rising civil costs of dissent. It examines the various costs and liabilities that apply to protest organizers, participants, and supporters. These include permit fees, damages resulting from personal injury lawsuits, statutory penalty enhancements, and loss of public benefits. The chapter makes the case for stricter First Amendment scrutiny of these costs and argues that certain fee-shifting arrangements and civil causes of action violate the First Amendment. It encourages public officials to commit to reducing rather than piling on the costs of dissent.

This chapter explores the legacies of the wartime disruption of gender hierarchies. It shows that after the Second War a sizable share of Chechen women began using the Russian state legal system, which formally acknowledges gender equality. The chapter suggests that the disruption of gender hierarchies can be attributed to several interrelated mechanisms. The most significant cultural change was that the conflict forced women to enter the public sphere. Women became representatives of their families and communities. At the same time, conflict gave rise to militarized masculinity and neo-traditionalism among Chechen men. This divergence was multiplied by changes in bargaining power within families due to transformations of gender positions in the labor market: many women became their families’ breadwinners. Furthermore, the effect of the disruption of gender hierarchies was exacerbated by the process of community disintegration, which diminished the ability of the extended family to apply pressure against women who used state courts. In addition, after the war, many of the NGOs refocused on gender problems and served as support structures for women’s legal mobilization. The last part of the chapter shows that women’s legal mobilization in Chechnya faced strong backlash from the Chechen regional government.

Colombia has faced over fifty years of internal armed conflict, resulting in more than 9 million victims and dozens of peace negotiations with different illegal armed groups. With the demobilization of the largest paramilitary group in 2003 (Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia), the country saw renewed accountability efforts that highlighted the role of businesspeople in the violence. A norm of business accountability for past atrocities started to emerge with a number of convictions in the courts. When the government launched negotiations with the FARC guerrilla group in 2012, many observers expected continuity in this path of increased accountability of economic actors. But the path was severed. This chapter describes the ebbs and flows of business accountability in Colombia, looking at the role of the human rights movement in securing higher levels of accountability, and the emergence of an organized opposition from the business community to stop the process. The chapter argues that this business countermovement is a result of the success of the human rights movement in the courts, which led to convictions and brought the matter to the public eye. All of this created a more tangible threat to the interests of economic actors, leading to the subsequent backlash.

The Introduction outlines the trajectory of the literature on judicialization in Latin America, and presents the core argument of the book. The book argues that the institutional and cultural changes that empowered courts and put them at the center of policy disputes, what the editors call the “judicialization superstructure,” often fall short of the promise of greater accountability and rights protection. First, courts sometimes fail to account for persistent state weakness, pushing policies ahead of the state and societal infrastructure needed to support them. Second, judicial corruption, nepotism, and other intra-institutional pathologies occasionally diminish the transformative potential of courts and prosecutors. Third, courts’ and activists’ inability to root change in robust structures of support leads to political and societal backlash that frustrates reform efforts. As a result, and in spite of some notable successes, judicialization in certain areas produces limited impact and is met with aggressive responses from conservative forces. Finally, there are instances when the expectations of the architects of judicialization have been met all too well, especially in terms of strengthening mechanisms of horizontal accountability, but due to the broader context in which these mechanisms operate, effective judicialization can do more harm than good.

The Commission against Impunity in Guatemala was an unprecedented international partnership to build the rule of law in a weak state. Between 2007 and 2019, the CICIG contributed to important legal reforms, the creation of a specialized prosecutor’s office and “high-risk” courts, and investigations of more than sixty criminal networks before being shut down by a president whom it was investigating. The CICIG’s sponsorship by the United Nations and funding from international donors helped it to survive resistance from successive Guatemalan presidents. As the CICIG’s investigations and a stronger Guatemalan state threatened a broader array of previously untouchable powerful domestic actors – including in business, the military, and politics – domestic opposition became more obstructionist. The backlash against the CICIG was ultimately successful when an under-resourced and fragile pro-reform domestic coalition could not replace the international support that had lessened as a result of independent but simultaneous global political trends in the late 2010s. The CICIG experience suggests that rule of law reformers will struggle with backlash from those actors who would lose power and face punishment in a strengthened state and that backlash may be insurmountable as international allies move on.