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    Fur and loathing: do America’s ‘childless cat ladies’ hold the key to the US election?

    When writer and artist Alice Maddicott’s beloved rescue cat died, she was understandably bereft. Dylan was a proper character, she says, the kind of gregarious cat that follows you to the pub or for a walk. But mourning him made Alice, who was then in her late 30s and single, feel faintly self-conscious. What if people thought she was a mad cat lady, weeping spinsterish tears for her pet?“If I’d had a dog, there would be no stereotype. But as a single woman approaching 40, it could be seen very differently,” says Maddicott. Curious about the origins of such a kneejerk prejudice, she started digging into its history. The research became a book, Cat Women, reclaiming an insult long used to belittle older women (especially non-compliant ones) or frighten younger women into settling down, lest they end up like the crazy cat lady from The Simpsons: once a high achiever, now a burnt-out drunk.But as Maddicott points out, it’s an objectively ridiculous insult. There’s no such thing as a “crazy cat man” and single hamster owners aren’t considered a threat to the patriarchal order. Only cat ladies touch a nerve, because only cat ladies immediately conjure up the idea of witches.In medieval times, the devil was believed to give cats as gifts to women inducted into witchcraft, Maddicott explains: so strong was the association that at the Bideford witch trials in 17th-century Devon, one woman was accused after a cat was seen slipping in through her window. “Probably an eccentric older woman feeding a stray, but that was used to condemn her.” Single women, unrestrained and also undefended by any man, made dangerously easy scapegoats if sickness came or the crops failed. Thankfully, people no longer believe in witches ruining lives out of spite. Or do they?Three years ago, the then aspiring Republican senator (and now vice-presidential candidate) JD Vance complained on Fox News that America was being run by “a bunch of childless cat ladies who are miserable at their own lives and the choices they’ve made and so they want to make the rest of the country miserable, too.” He named then vice-president Kamala Harris, secretary of transportation Pete Buttigieg (who is gay) and the young New York representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez as politicians who supposedly had no stake in the future they were legislating for.The idea that if you haven’t given birth, you don’t count, was hurtful to many doting stepmothers (as Harris is) or adoptive parents (like Buttigieg). But most incendiary of all was the idea that not having children renders a person a bitter, vengeful husk, desperate to drag everyone else down with them. Polling this summer, after those comments were dug up and recirculated, found two-thirds of Americans disagreed that not having biological children was a hindrance in a president; even among Republicans, only 15% agreed.View image in fullscreenThough Vance now insists he was merely being sarcastic, for many women on both sides of the Atlantic, those words summed up a strand of politics that seemingly values them mainly for their ability to procreate and views their right to choose with suspicion. Though powerful women have long been shamed for not being mothers – “deliberately barren”, the former Australian prime minister Julia Gillard’s opponents called her – in the current climate, attacks on childless cat ladies have a sharper edge.In both the US and Europe, rightwing parties are weaponising female fertility as a political issue, tapping into a potent mix of misogyny, economic anxiety and overtly racist angst about being “replaced” as the dominant culture if white women don’t start breeding more enthusiastically. Though falling birth rates across the developed world are an undeniable economic headache – shrinking populations mean fewer young workers to fund pensions for the old and, typically, lower growth – populists focus on the way a dwindling workforce leads to more imported labour. Hungary’s populist leader Viktor Orbán has claimed the west is “committing suicide” by not making babies; in Germany, the far right AfD called in its manifesto for “larger families instead of mass immigration”. Elon Musk, the X owner and Donald Trump donor, tweets in apocalyptic terms about impending “population collapse”.Yet still, the baby drought persists. Around one in five British women don’t have children by the end of their fertile years – the Office for National Statistics doesn’t keep equivalent statistics for men – and this year deaths overtook births for the first time (outside a pandemic) since the 1970s. Almost half of Americans under 50, meanwhile, are childless. Or should that be childfree? For this year of shaming women has also been a year of women refusing to be shamed: older women reclaiming witchy insults like “hag” and “crone”, while younger ones resist what they see as a Handmaid’s Tale future of curtailed rights over their own bodies.Like the cat-eared pink hats that anti-Trump marchers wore in 2017, referencing his boasts about grabbing women “by the pussy”, in 2024 a “Childless Cat Lady for Kamala” T-shirt or sticker is now a gleeful statement of defiance. When Taylor Swift identified as one in her Instagram post formally endorsing Harris, it felt like something of a Spartacus moment – arguably even more so when Elon Musk responded with a creepy tweet offering to get her pregnant.What’s different about Swift isn’t merely that she, too, is unmarried, childfree and a cat owner at 34; it’s that she makes it look like a blast. Rich, powerful and taking her pick of trophy boyfriends, she lives closer to what would once have been called a rakish bachelor’s life than a spinster’s – though these days spinsterdom is a story told very differently.In Kate Winslet’s recent feminist biopic Lee, about the pioneering Second World War photographer Lee Miller, there is a scene in which Winslet’s Miller and Vogue magazine editor Audrey Withers ask each other if they’re planning to have children. “God no,” says Withers, cheerfully. “Oh God no,” echoes Winslet’s Miller. It’s a bonding moment in the film which implies neither could have done what they did – in Miller’s case following the US army’s advance across Europe and documenting newly liberated concentration camps; and in Withers’s case battling the censors to publish her images – if they’d had families at home. Though Miller did eventually have a son after the war, the film doesn’t duck the fact their relationship was difficult and ultimately lets her work take centre stage. It’s how great men’s stories are often told, drawing a veil over domestic shortcomings, but more rarely women’s.View image in fullscreenOnce upon a time in Hollywood, childless women could be mad, murderous bunny boilers – in films like Single White Female and Fatal Attraction – or at a push Bridget Jones, terrified of dying “fat and alone”. Now they can be Carrie Bradshaw, reimagined in And Just Like That… as a sexy fiftysomething widow with a fluffy rescue cat, or even Greta Gerwig’s Barbie, the eternally childless doll who (according to her creator Ruth Handler) “always represented the fact that a woman has choices”. Though the film has a darker side, with the Kens’ angry revolt against the Barbie matriarchy echoing a backlash many young women say they’re experiencing in real life, the Barbieland both sides seek to control is a hedonistic land of parties and beach days where nobody is spending their Saturdays bleary-eyed at soft play. The toymaker Mattel has always resisted pleas to give Barbie and Ken children; instead they stayed forever aspirational Dinks, an 80s acronym for Dual Income No Kids now gleefully revived by millennials.“We’re DINKs. Of course we are already planning our European vacation next year,” says TikToker @johnefinance, in a chirpy post last December that racked up over 290,000 likes. “We’re DINKs; we spend our discretionary income on $8 lattes,” his partner giggles. Social media is still awash with #dinkcouple posts bragging about how much more money, sex and sleep they get compared to haggard new parents, recasting childless life as the opposite of sad and empty. Unusually, the trend brings young men’s perspectives into a debate normally (and exhaustingly) focused on women. But it also reflects polling released by the Pew Center thinktank earlier this year showing the most common reason childless Americans under 50 give for not being parents is that they just don’t want to.TikTok’s Dinks are young, and maybe not ruling parenthood out forever. But for now their lives arguably look a lot more fun than being a tradwife, those sourdough-baking, God-fearing, home-schooling mothers of multiple children whose retro social media content is – depending on your view – either a bit of guilty escapist fantasy for tired working women or a sinister attempt to drag women back into the kitchen. This summer a British newspaper interview with uber-tradwife Hannah Neeleman (aka @ballerinafarm), in which the writer wondered how exactly she’d ended up sacrificing a ballet career to have eight children and why her husband kept answering questions for her, triggered days of debate about whether she was being secretly oppressed or whether (as Neeleman’s fans argued) this was a hit piece by a writer who doesn’t have kids.Cut through all the noise, however, and there is one clear signal: neither the tradwife nor the Dink camp seem to think having it all is an option any more. You can’t have kids and a career in ballet; you can’t have a thrilling social life and children. You have to choose, with the implication that either way, something is lost. If there is a sadness to Neeleman talking about giving up on her professional ambitions, there is a faint whiff of financial distress around some of those Dink reels, too; a sense they’re blowing their cash on bucket-list travel destinations because the idea of buying a family home (while paying nursery bills that cost more than a mortgage) seems wildly out of reach.The second most common reason childless Britons aged 35-44 gave for not having children (after thinking they were too old) was a split between “I don’t want the impact on my lifestyle” and “the cost is too high”, according to YouGov. But for those on tight budgets, the two are related. It may be no accident that Britain’s last mini-baby boom was in the early Noughties – fuelled by cheaper childcare, longer maternity leave and rising prosperity – or that it fizzled out with the 2009 recession.On both sides of the Atlantic, women who do want kids some day are tired of being blamed for their childlessness by politicians who seemingly won’t meet them halfway: who instead of building cheap houses for first-time buyers or slashing their nursery bills, suggest (in Vance’s case) that grandparents could help out for free. But for some women, there’s an added worry that politicians cajoling or shaming women into having children may eventually turn to forcing them.For American women under 30, abortion is now the number one election issue, according to an October poll by the health policy researchers KFF. Two years ago, the overturning of Roe v Wade – the landmark ruling underpinning legal abortion in America – left the way open for an all-out assault on reproductive rights. At campaign rally after rally, Harris has hammered away at fears of what a Republican administration might do. She often quotes Project 2025, the infamous leaked wishlist for a second Trump term drawn up by a rightwing thinktank, which argues for giving foetuses legal rights and scrapping funding for contraceptive services.In Europe, too, rightwing governments in Hungary, Italy and Poland have tightened abortion law, though furious female voters helped propel a pro-liberalisation Polish government into power last year.For now, Britain seems to be on a much more progressive path. The prospect of curbs on abortion in this parliament looks at first glance remote, though the Labour MP Stella Creasy – who has been aggressively targeted in her constituency by anti-abortion activists – argues complacency is dangerous. “If the election hadn’t been called, it’s not clear that we wouldn’t have seen the first rollback on rights in 50 years,” she says, pointing to a backbench attempt to reduce the legal time limit from 24 to 22 weeks in the dying months of the last Conservative government.But the Tory MP Miriam Cates – who once argued that dwindling fertility rates are “the one overarching threat” to western society – lost her seat in July, while the Tory leadership favourite Kemi Badenoch says she isn’t convinced governments can make women have babies.America’s fate, however, still hangs by a thread, with a stark divide emerging particularly among the young: women for Harris, angry young men for Trump.Whether she wins or whether she loses in the coming election, it almost certainly won’t be because (along with every other occupant of the Oval Office in history) Kamala Harris hasn’t physically given birth. Most Americans say this election is still about the economy, stupid. But what is clear from months of arguing about childless cat ladies is that being one is just another American story now.When the pollsters Ipsos went looking this summer for female voters with no kids at home, but with a feline companion, the surprise was all the ways in which they were pretty much like everyone else: mostly suburban, disproportionately white, mostly with some college education, no richer or poorer than average – and in almost a third of cases, Republicans. They’re living behind the same white-picket fences as everyone else, shopping at Target, working nine to five, just getting on with life. And the clearer that becomes, the harder it is to pretend that every childless cat lady is a witch.View image in fullscreenFeline friendshipCat lover and author Britt Collins on her furry companionsI never imagined that childless cat ladies would become a political force and a whole new demographic. Over the years, I’ve heard all the snarks: mad, lonely, obsessive – the old witch-hunting slurs that have dogged outlier women forever. Am I miserable by the choices I made? Hell, no. Here’s the thing, cats rock and I don’t have to defend my choices. If I wanted kids, I’d have adopted one.The only time I felt lonely was in the last year of my marriage when I lost my sense of self. I’ve had boyfriends since I was 15, always cat men, and I still adore my two long-term exes with whom I spent my 20s and 30s. I’ve raised dozens of strays with them and had the best of times. However, these days, my ideal man is a gay vet. I’m happy with my mogs, enjoying the deep, uncomplicated love and pure joy of feline friendship.Still, I’ve had strangers tell me that giving up on relationships, as I moved into my 50s, is no way to live. Women and the cats they love have long been maligned, somehow seen as lesser-than or unfulfilled. Carving out my own little universe, I’ve filled it with cats and creativity. I’ve travelled to more than 35 countries, looked after big cats, baboons, bats and various wild orphans, written two books, ghostwritten and edited others, edited and created magazines, run a sell-out cat festival, directed pop videos and completed the screenplay adaption for my book, Strays, that has sparked interest from Hollywood producers. I do what I want, when I want – enjoying the privileges historically afforded to men.Journalist and activist Gloria Steinem, who’s had many felines over the decades, credits them as her teachers ‘when it comes to a strong will and self-authority’. When Steinem was asked how to raise the next generation of feminists, she said: ‘Like cats. They tell you what they’re going to do, and that’s that.’Cats, with their punky attitudes, have taught me defiance and everything else worth knowing. They are sensualists, things of beauty, who’ve inspired artists for centuries. Lennon, McCartney, Bowie, Dylan and many of the greatest rock stars were all crazy-cat ladies. Us cat people of all political stripes may not agree on everything, but we don’t let it get in the way of what matters most.Strays: A Lost Cat, A Homeless Man and Their Journey Across America by Britt Collins is published by Simon & Schuster More

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    ‘It’s easy to dismiss Black women’s lives’: Texas drags feet on maternal mortality crisis

    When medical staff prepped Shawn Thierry for an emergency C-section, she knew something was very wrong. After an epidural, excruciating pain ran through her legs. Soon, she could barely breathe.“I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest and that I might die,” she said.She screamed for her doctor to put her under anesthesia – which happened to be the solution. The epidural, Thierry later found out, was given too high in her spine, causing a paralysis that inched toward her heart.“I was an attorney who had full private healthcare coverage and I almost died,” said Thierry, of the birth of her daughter in 2012. “I cannot imagine what the outcome would be for the thousands of other African American women without health insurance.”Years later, as a member of the Texas House, Thierry was “stunned” to learn of the state’s maternal mortality crisis.The US has the highest maternal death rate among similarly developed countries and is the only industrialized nation where such deaths are rising. But according to data from the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, in Texas the maternal mortality rate is above the US average, at 18.5 deaths per 100,000 live births.Black women in the state are “disproportionately” affected, accounting for 11% of live births but 31% of maternal deaths. Wide racial and ethnic disparities exist nationally too.I was shocked that black mothers like myself are three times more likely to die than our white counterparts“I was shocked that black mothers like myself are three times more likely to die than our white counterparts,” said Thierry. “And no one in the legislature was really talking about it.”She has repeatedly filed legislation to combat the glaring problem. Her proposals included racial bias training for medical professionals and a bill to fix a “severe” maternal health data backlog by creating a centralized registry.They did not advance in 2019, or in the current legislative session which ends this weekend. Focused on restricting abortion rights, the male- and Republican-dominated state legislature has dragged its feet on maternal mortality.Health advocates were cautiously optimistic that in 2021 Texas lawmakers would at least usher through a proposal to extend Medicaid care to a year after birth.Lawmakers did take action. A proposal was sent to Governor Greg Abbott on Friday. But it stopped short of providing the full Medicaid expansion.‘A large racial disparity’A state maternal mortality and morbidity review committee found that out of pregnancy related deaths in Texas in 2013, about a third occurred 43 days to a year after the end of pregnancy. It also discovered that nearly 90% of such deaths were preventable. Among the leading underlying causes of death with the highest chance of preventability were infection, hemorrhage, preeclampsia and cardiovascular conditions.“It was really striking,” said Dr Amy Raines-Milenkov, a University of North Texas Health Science Center professor and member of the review committee. “We found that most of these deaths could have been prevented but the system is just not set up to prevent them. And we found a large racial disparity, which is a reflection of how we in society value women, especially African American women.”Since 2016, the committee’s No1 recommendation to help save lives has been to extend Medicaid coverage postpartum for low-income mothers to a year. Currently, Texas kicks new moms off Medicaid after 60 days, leading to delayed and less preventative care. The American Medical Association and the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists support longer postpartum care.“So many health problems can develop in this really sensitive time period, so it is critical that new moms have that full year of extended coverage,” said Raines-Milenkov. “To think new mothers can identify problems, get timely appointments and follow up with their doctors within just two months of having a baby is unrealistic. Anything less than 12 months is really insufficient.”The Biden administration recently initiated incentives for states to expand postpartum coverage to 12 months. Illinois was the first to have its extension approved and other states including Florida and Virginia hope to implement measures soon.Toni Rose, a Dallas representative, joined Thierry in filing HB 133, to do just that in Texas. The Republican-dominated House passed the bill with rare bipartisan approval and nearly 70 groups, from the Texas Medical Association to the rightwing Texas Public Policy Foundation, expressed support.When it comes to saving the lives of Texas mothers, ‘splitting the difference’ is not appropriateHowever, the ultra-conservative Texas Senate – which ushered through extremist anti-abortion bills in March – did not pass the bill until the final minutes of its session. Even then, the legislation was not what was proposed. Without explanation, Republican Lois Kolkhorst of Brenham reduced the year of coverage to six months.Rose called the legislation a “victory” but said it still “falls short”. Thierry expressed dismay.“The data is clear that women are still at risk of maternal mortalities and pregnancy related complications for up to one year postpartum,” she said. “While the six months negotiated by the Texas Senate is better than the status quo, many new mothers will still be deprived of quality healthcare at a time when they are most vulnerable.“Given that this is an issue in which I have both personal and professional experience, I am disappointed. When it comes to saving the lives of Texas mothers, ‘splitting the difference’ is not appropriate.”Marsha Jones, executive director of the Afiya Center, a Dallas group that supports Black women with reproductive healthcare, said the lack of substantial progress was partly a reflection of the legislature’s misplaced priorities and lack of diversity.The Texas legislature is comprised mostly of white males: 61% of lawmakers in the House and Senate are white, even though white Texans make up just 41% of the population. Women are vastly outnumbered by men.“Black women are dying at an alarming rate for reasons that could be prevented and our state leaders cut down the main proposal that a state-appointed committee recommended to help them – why would that even happen?” said Jones. “I think it’s because it’s so easy to dismiss Black women’s lives.”The legislature expended time and energy on restricting abortion access, including passing one of the most extreme bans in the country, which allows any citizen to sue an abortion provider, as well as a “trigger” bill that bans the procedure in the event Roe v Wade, the 1973 ruling which safeguards the right to abortion, is overturned by the US supreme court.Both measures were “top legislative priorities” for the Senate leader, Lt Gov Dan Patrick, who did not make maternal mortality a listed priority.“It seems the only time we want to stand up and care about a life is when it’s in the womb,” Rose told Republicans on the House floor in May.‘Women are obviously choosing a life’In an ideological quest to punish abortion affiliates, Republicans have decimated the Texas reproductive health safety net by blocking low-income Medicaid patients from receiving life-saving preventative care at Planned Parenthood, a move resulting in reduced access to contraception and increased rates of Medicaid births, according to the Texas Policy Evaluation Project.A recent study in the medical journal Contraception showed a correlation between high maternal mortality rates and states that pass abortion barriers.“We have a maternal health crisis and conservative legislators once again made anti-choice bills a priority,” said Thierry. “They fail to realize all the women threatened by maternal deaths are obviously choosing life – they shouldn’t have to do so in exchange for their own.”Lawmakers made no significant gains for Medicaid in general. Texas is home to the highest number of uninsured residents in the US as well as the highest percentage of uninsured women of childbearing age, but it has declined to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act and Republicans blocked legislative efforts to help extend healthcare coverage for the working poor.Texas has one of the steepest Medicaid eligibility requirements in the US. Of 1.4 million Texans who would benefit from expanded Medicaid, 75% are people of color.“Once again, we are kicking the can down the road with many of these solutions,” said Thierry. “It’s absolutely imperative we continue to work on reducing maternal mortality. One death is too many, especially when it’s preventable.” More