If you were in any doubt that The Sun hates women, doubt no more. Two days ago it allowed its sister paper, The Times, to run a report claiming Page Three would no longer be a feature of the tabloid. Today it mocked all those who had been taken in by it. While such mockery took the form of a media in-joke ("We would like to apologise on behalf of the print and broadcast journalists who have spent the last two days talking and writing about us") it’s clear that the stunt had another, crueller target: all the women who have been campaigning against Page Three, women who had been permitted to think, for just one moment, that their voices mattered.
It is, of course, a show of power. The Sun giveth respect, The Sun taketh it away. It’s reminiscent of the way in which teenage boys taunt girls to hide their own insecurity. He says he loves you, then three days later he’s laughing with his mates, telling you it was all for a dare. It’s a form of cruelty which can leave you feeling humiliated, as though you are to blame for having dared to believe that someone male could have appreciated your human worth. You know that sexism isn't your fault but it still makes you feel like a loser. In a world in which value is determined by the male gaze, it’s so easy to end up feeling worthless.
One of feminism’s biggest challenges remains persuading downhearted women that even the little things matter, if for no other reason than because we matter. While some things – male violence, rape conviction statistics, female poverty rates – are clear and measurable, other things – those that contribute to the drip-drip effect of dehumanisation – are dismissed as either unimportant or not real sexism, anyway. Page 3 has always been one such thing. I'm old enough to remember Clare Short campaigning against it in the 1980s and my main response then was one of embarrassment. Why didn't this woman give it a rest? They’re only breasts! Didn't she know how silly she was making the rest of us look? It took me 30 years to put her campaign – and my own dismissive attitude towards it – into any broader context. Nevertheless, I'm hopeful that young women today won’t need quite so long.
The schoolboy meanness of The Sun’s latest stunt has not gone unnoticed. Indeed, the misogyny that drives it is striking. The message to women is "you might be more than just objects, but that makes treating you like one all the more fun". We’re used to all the excuses regarding Page 3. It’s just a pretty woman. It’s just naked flesh. Are you jealous? Maybe you’re some prude who doesn't like sex. Anyhow, what about FGM? Shouldn't you be campaigning against that? Until yesterday, there was always that tiny space for doubt. There isn't any more, though. The Sun has made the link between casual objectification and contempt for women absolutely clear. The little things do matter after all.
Ultimately what The Sun did this week helps us to join the dots. It sends a radicalising message to women who may not otherwise have cared about such things. Whereas we might have thought casual misogyny could never bleed from the page into real life, we now know better. In many ways, this knowledge is more valuable that the concession we thought we were being offered two days ago. Perhaps, in the long run, we will find ourselves thanking The Sun.