For years, gender equality has been framed as an inevitable progression: imperfect, contested, yet ultimately unstoppable. Legal reforms, broader representation and louder public conversations reinforced the belief that the arc was bending in the right direction. The narrative settled in: progress might be slow, but it was steady. Once rights were gained, they would not easily be undone.
But history rarely moves in straight lines; sometimes it resembles a pendulum. In 2026, a widespread perception of advancement coexists with mounting signs of stagnation and, in some contexts, regression. The sense of momentum appears fragile, challenged by cultural backlash and amplified by digital ecosystems that favour polarisation. Feminism has undoubtedly reshaped the world; however, the stability of those gains cannot be taken for granted. Equality, it seems, is not a destination reached but a balance constantly at risk of tipping.
On International Women’s Day, the real question may not be how far we’ve come, but how readily we could fall back.
The Illusion of Progress
Data from UN Women and global gender monitoring reports paint an uneven picture. In 2024, one in four governments worldwide reported setbacks in women’s rights — a clear indication that reversals are not isolated exceptions. More than one billion women and girls live in countries where institutional protections or policy commitments have weakened in recent years.
In some regions, improvements have stalled; in others, previously secured guarantees face political contestation or erosion. The assumption of unwavering forward motion remains dominant, but the evidence suggests something far less stable: gains that are conditional, unstable and vulnerable.
Even in areas often perceived as benchmarks, parity feels distant. The European Union’s Gender Equality Index stands at 63.4 out of 100 in 2025 — an improvement over previous decades, certainly, but still far from completion. At the current pace, closing the gap could take generations. Globally, women remain underrepresented in positions of power, concentrated in precarious labour and disproportionately exposed to economic insecurity.
The trajectory may continue, but it is now facing open questioning.
From Fringe to Mainstream
Backlash does not emerge overnight: it advances gradually, from scattered rhetoric to coordinated language, from reaction to identity. Over the past few years, anti-feminist arguments have shifted from the margins of debate into its centre. What was once dismissed as fringe provocation now circulates widely across social media platforms, electoral campaigns and mainstream commentary. In many settings, opposition to gender equality is no longer portrayed as disagreement over specific measures, but as a rejection of feminism as such.
This repositioning matters. When equality is cast as ideological overreach rather than democratic principle, its legitimacy becomes easier to contest. Narratives romanticising “traditional roles” gain renewed visibility, while claims that the conversation around gender has “gone too far” resonate with audiences navigating uncertainty or loss of status. In this climate, feminism is not only debated; it is reframed as destabilising.
The shift is structural as much as cultural. Online networks accelerate and amplify these currents, allowing them to consolidate into communities and shared identities. Anti-feminism ceases to be reactive; it turns into affiliation.
Polarisation by Design
The regression unfolding today is inseparable from the technological systems that mediate public life. Social platforms are not passive arenas; they are engineered to maximise engagement, which is fuelled by intensity. Outrage travels further than context. Confrontation sustains attention, and attention sustains profit.
In early 2026, millions of non-consensual intimate images of women were generated within days using a mainstream AI tool. So-called “nudify” applications have accumulated hundreds of millions of downloads internationally, proving that abuse flows at the core of the digital economy.
This dynamic reshapes visibility itself. For women — especially those who speak publicly about equality — exposure increasingly involves harassment, sexualised manipulation or collective targeting. The same mechanisms that magnify presence do not distinguish between support and hostility; they reward activity. Notoriety once signified influence. Now it often comes with a cost.
Meanwhile, generational divides are becoming more pronounced. In several nations, surveys show young women gravitating towards progressive positions on gender equality, while growing numbers of their male counterparts identify with more conservative stances. What emerges is not simply discord, but fragmentation — a weakening of shared assumptions about fairness and power.
When division is technologically intensified and economically incentivised, polarisation takes on a systemic character.
Not a Celebration, a Reckoning
International Women’s Day is not a ceremonial pause in an otherwise linear story of progress. It is a checkpoint — a moment to measure distance not only travelled, but threatened. A reminder that rights can erode through complacency, through indifference, through systems that quietly normalise exclusion while insisting everything is fine.
To say that equality feels unstable is neither imaginary nor exaggerated. It depends on political will, cultural climate and technological infrastructures that can either safeguard dignity or undermine it at scale.
The idea that progress is not inevitable is uncomfortable. And that’s precisely why we speak.