#MeToo and beyond: inequality and injustice in marketing practice and academia

By speaking up and fighting back, individually and collectively, we affirm and ensure that #MeToo is a strong and diverse movement, not simply a historical moment whose gains can be erased. From boardrooms to the music industry, from classrooms to elevators, we must challenge misogyny whenever it rears its violent head. To those who accuse us of going too far, we say: we will go as far and as long as it takes to demand respect, equality and justice! (Sharoni, 2018, p. 150)

Unfortunately, too many centers of power – from legislatures to boardrooms to executive suites and management to academia – lack gender parity and women do not have equal decision-making authority. The struggle for women to break in, to rise up the ranks and to simply be heard and acknowledged in male-dominated workplaces must end; time’s up on this impenetrable monopoly. (Waters & Magliocca, 2018, p. 192)

Introduction

The power of the #MeToo and #TimesUp Now movements cannot be underestimated with respect to the fight for equity and equality (Battaglio & Hall, 2018). They represent contemporary examples of fourth wave feminism (Maclaran, 2015). The #MeToo movement took hold in 2017, following its conceptualisation by the activist Tarana Burke in 2006. Broadly speaking, it focuses on assault, bullying, sexual objectification, and harassment in the workplace. The sister #TimesUp Now campaign built upon the base of calling out the issues to focusing on identifying necessary social change:

By helping change culture, companies, and laws, TIME’S UP Now aims to create a society free of gender-based discrimination in the workplace and beyond. We want every person – across race, ethnicity, religion, sexuality, gender identity, and income level – to be safe on the job and have equal opportunity for economic success and security. (Times Up., 2020)

Registering the power of these forces for social transformation, 2017 was hailed as the ‘Unexpected Year of the Woman’ (Dvorak, 2017). Women in all walks of life came together, were provided with platforms and support, leading to formidable efforts at consciousness raising. The women’s marches in 2017 following the election of Donald Trump in the United States were vocal in their fight for change. But, as the case of Trump shows, a windfall of evidence regarding his views on women and willingness to violate social norms, high profile books on the topic, and challenges in the courts can be stunted – to some extent – by powerful political connections and wealth.

Attempting to deal with the hydras of neoliberalism, the patriarchy and its enablers is a major challenge. And yet, as the Black Lives Matter movement is revealing in vivid terms, problematising, challenging and decisively changing the status quo remains possible, and is a cause for concern among sedimented political, financial and cultural classes (cf. Bloomberg, 2020; Malick, 2020). This is exemplified by recent efforts to transform the parameters of education in the UK by the Conservative Government. The latter appear to follow Trump’s lead by desiring to limit criticism of capitalism, structural inequalities and systemic racism (Jones, 2020; Ray, 2020; Trilling, 2020). Their strategy involves denying the provision of historical, theoretical and conceptual tools derived from Critical Race Theory (CRT) to investigate these issues in schools and universities. To stabilise the status quo still further, the Conservatives have shown considerable disdain when it comes to tackling unconscious bias through diversity training (Gill, 2020; Jones, 2020; Trilling, 2020).

Potential reasons behind the restriction of academic freedom are obvious. CRT adopts various assumptions that encourage us to look critically at the world and determine how change can occur (e.g., Davis, 2018; Francis & Robertson, this issue; Grier & Poole, 2020; Mitchell, 2020). It holds that racism is a persistent feature of the social environment which delimits the opportunities of various groups. Relatedly, it is an explicit challenge to the status quo. CRT is not underpinned by a ‘liberal legal ideology of incremental change’ (Grier & Poole, 2020). Piecemeal change might be desirable to those already in positions of power as it basically means that any change activities will take place at the level desirable to those who already benefit substantially from the organisation of a firm, institution and society. Rather, change efforts should benefit those who are currently ‘adversely affected by social, economic and educational inequity that results from racism and racist practices’ (Grier & Poole, 2020).

Where politicians of various stripes make claims about racism not being a systemic feature of the social context, CRT illuminates the taken-for-granted assumptions that skew our ability to succeed in the world. It firmly contests the notion that a capitalist system is guided by meritocratic values, where success is available if we only want it hard enough – as Jared Kushner appears to believe¹ (e.g., Mazza, 2020). Certainly, in directing our attention to the longstanding power dynamics that shape society, it makes us pay attention to the influence of the racist value systems that Donald Trump and colleagues have been closely affiliated with, including white nationalism. As ethically oriented marketing scholars, we should welcome CRT research. Let us briefly explore some exemplars in this tradition that are forthcoming in the pages of the Journal of Marketing Management (JMM).

Grier and Poole (2020) use CRT to examine how race, racialisation and outright racism influence the hiring policies of universities in the US. Wei and Bunjun (2020) focus on the recent controversy around New Balance (the sneaker company), and public statements that initially looked to support Donald Trump’s economic policies. As a result, the company faced considerable backlash from consumers. Some were dismayed by the support for a presidential candidate who had conducted one of the most racist campaigns in memory² (Wei & Bunjun, 2020). Wei and Bunjun adroitly unpack the nuances of consumer response to this brand controversy. Combined with Judy Foster Davis’ (2018) major contribution to CRT debates, these two papers index why those in power find this tradition deeply uncomfortable. It deflates political rhetoric and undermines the ‘I’m a self-made person’ claims circulated by those in power.

As has been remarked with regularity, neoliberalism has caused pronounced inequality; inequalities and inequities that Republican and Conservative factions alike do not want us to discuss. People are worried about jobs, making mortgage payments, and economic anxiety refracts the lifeworld (Russell, 2000). After all, a ‘fear of destitution’ compounded by extant ‘systematic economic discrimination’ makes even the most vocal employees circumspect (Russell, 2002, pp. 130, 120), especially in times of austerity and COVID (Szmigin et al., 2020).

But, as the tenets of neoliberalism expand and pervade the fabric of our social world, inflecting the university and business school, fostering hyper-individualism and performance-based subjectivation regarding the ‘need’ to ‘be on the clock 24/7’ (Spicer, 2018), the macro-economic, cultural and political values being performed can create the conditions of possibility for extreme precarity and depression (Martin et al., 2015; Spicer, 2018). Expressed through explicit and implied organisational discourses, the activities of some human resources workers and self-interested managers, our workplaces can become petri-dishes for the inculcation of ‘undignifying social behaviours, including bullying practices’ (Zawadzki & Jensen, 2020, p. 398).

Being subject to bullying and discrimination in the business school is a profoundly traumatising (Zawadzki & Jensen, 2020) persistent stressor (Szmigin et al., 2020) which crosses gender lines. The emerging body of research in these areas presses home the point that discriminatory practices remain an everyday structural pressure confronting many workers around the world. Studies have highlighted the problematic knowledge deployed by some line-managers on multiple topics (e.g., sexual, racial, religious differences). Similarly, whether an institution adheres to their legal requirements regarding ‘reasonable adjustments’ is a contested issue. Foster and Scott (2015, p. 331) point out that these remain largely contingent upon the ‘good will of line managers’; likewise, union assistance can be ‘of variable quality’ (ibid, p. 338).

These factors, in turn, impact on targeted employees in terms of limited career progression, often leading to organisational exit (Martin et al., 2015). Ultimately, such bad practices are not justifiable in light of employment law; they fail to appreciate the talents and skills of people from diverse backgrounds (e.g., Puntoni et al., 2020; cf. Doytcheva, 2020), and it begs the question of how managers or employees exhibiting pronounced or unconscious biases against any form of otherness or diversity can teach students from varied backgrounds with sometimes very different life experiences, a task it is incumbent upon us to undertake (McMahon-Coleman & Draisma, 2016).

We must appreciate that change is likely to require substantive reorientation within and among institutions. Reflecting on the business school in particular, Dar et al. (2020) reveal that confronting the extant structural inequalities within this profoundly powerful institution, which are reproduced and connect to racial genealogies and oppressions, is likely to be a challenging process. Referring to ongoing marginalisation, they unravel the interconnected arenas of organisational practice through which this occurs, including ‘targeted monitoring, harassment, and racialised-gendered inequalities in hiring, pay and promotion of global minority staff and students’ (Dar et al., 2020). Using ‘the United Kingdom as an example … while 86.9% of all UK academic staff are “White”, and 13.1% are people of colour … Black women comprise only 26 of the 19,000 professoriate (at the time of writing); across their roles in UK universities, they earn on average 39% less than white men’ (Dar et al., 2020).

Although the Dar et al. (2020) paper focuses on management and organisation studies predominantly, we should not assume that marketing faculties are immune from these charges. The evidence from faculty searches in our discipline indicates that diversity receives lip-service and there is no urgency to address the kinds of disparities mentioned above (Grier & Poole, 2020). Diversity policies are vague; they may feature on job advertisements as a form of legal window-dressing, but are generally nothing more than that. Systemic and implicit bias continues to be a problem; academics often avoid talking about race-related issues in hiring decisions; and to cite the comments from one of the respondents in Grier and Poole’s paper, ‘then there are some people who … express opinions that are racist’ (Grier & Poole, 2020, p. 1203). The time for apathy is over (see Francis & Robertson, this issue).

#MeToo and #TimesUp in Academia

We therefore argue that in a setting where power is so unequally distributed, universities may not only be a space in which harassment and violence occur, but may indeed constitute a context which is conducive to these practices. (Sundaram & Jackson, 2018, p. 3)

While there have been high-profile cases in the entertainment industry, such as those of Harvey Weinstein and the Fox News CEO Roger Ailes, harassment, abuse and sexual violence are evident in all walks of life (see Levin, 2020). This includes the fields of medicine (Ward-Peterson & Chang, 2018), politics (Krook, 2018; Levine & El-Faizy, 2019; Wolff, 2018), and domains of Non-Governmental Organisations (Greenfield, 2018). There has also been considerable discussion of incidents that take place in scholarly circles. For instance, a recent study has shown that only the military has a larger number of sexual harassment cases than higher education (National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine, 2018). Notwithstanding the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, women’s bodies continue to be objectified in the workplace (Ranki et al., 2018). Misogyny still exists (Rumrill et al., 2018). Assault, bullying and harassment ripple throughout academic (National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine, 2018) and student populations (e.g., Dick, 2015). And, these can oftentimes be more prevalent against women of colour (Osho et al., 2019). To be clear, we register that men face sexual harassment and violence from women and men in academic and everyday life (see McVey, Gurrieri & Tyler, this issue), but the numbers are heavily biased towards women facing ‘traumatizing’ practices from men (Flaherty, 2018). Irrespective of gender orientation, sexism, harassment, bullying, discrimination, assault, and othering impact on the well-being of survivors, as well as affecting job performance and satisfaction. We cannot underline this too much or too frequently.

Responses to sexual harassment in higher education have been strongly criticised (Dykstra-DeVette & Tarin, 2019). A survey by Karen Kelskey, a former academic and writer of the blog The Professor is In, on female researchers’ experiences, spotlighted various ways in which women continue to be problematically treated within academia. Orienting quotes are provided below (Dykstra-DeVette & Tarin, 2019):

‘I honestly believed that the trope of the “old creepy male professor” was a thing of the past. I never in my life expected that I would come face to face with the cold reality that this still takes place’ (p. 381) (Female academic on first year of tenure track);

‘Right after this point my two bosses began to try to pin various fire-able or reprimand worthy offenses on me (not dressing appropriately was a huge one, despite the fact that I wear the same clothes I’ve always worn to work). They intentionally change their expectations constantly so I’m always wondering when I’ll be in trouble next, and if/when I’ll be fired, and I’m afraid to speak up about this as well as other things they’ve done’ (p. 383) (Respondent discussing backlash after reporting sexual misconduct);

‘I am a workaholic, and once I got tenure I became a fierce protector and defender of others in the academy who are subject to sexual harassment. I do not allow anyone to feel isolated and alone as I did. Every new woman who enters our University is welcomed by me, and I open up channels for conversation as they navigate their experiences. Each new colleague I mentor in this way eventually shares her own story of harassment with me. Not one has been free of it. NOT ONE … I am quite successful at fighting though, so I continue, and I try to learn how to gather around me the life resources I need to support my work on behalf of others … I’m not sure I’ll ever be free from this plague.’ (p. 385)

Disconcertingly, sexual harassment has been normalised and routinised in higher education (e.g., Dougherty & Smythe, 2004; Sundaram & Jackson, 2018). Reflecting its prevalence, everyday occurrences are ‘invisible’ or occur with such frequency that ‘groping, unwanted touching, [and] sexually harassing language’ are deemed ‘unworthy of reporting’ (Sundaram & Jackson, 2018, p. 3). Page et al. (2019), for example, argue that this invisibilising is compounded by a comparative lack of research on the topic. This makes sense when we think about the power dynamics in the university. As Maclaran et al. (2009, p. 724) remind us, ‘it is the cloak of invisibility which allows the dominance of one group over another’ (see also Elraz, 2018). Fear, financial precarity, journal conservatism, and ranking list fetishism (Willmott, 2011) all – no doubt – play powerful roles as well.

To put it slightly differently, if we do not ask difficult questions about the sexism, bullying, assault, harassment, and discrimination that permeates the marketplace, that regularly confronts practitioners, consumers, academics, and students (Baker & Kelan, 2018; Cantrell, 2018; Dizikes & Asimov, 2018; Elraz, 2018; Fischer, 2015; Greenberg, 2018; Martin, 2016; Martin et al., 2015; Mclaughlin et al., 2017; Pullen, 2018; Robin, 2018), then our disciplinary outputs telegraph their irrelevance. Confronting these issues and rendering them visible is the first step in overcoming them.

Although one aim of the #MeToo movement has been to ‘de-normalise’ their ‘occurrence’ (Krook, 2018), there is limited evidence of this happening in the academic world. Another common factor is what happens when a survivor communicates their experiences to those tasked with ensuring their safety at work. Finding the courage to speak the truth of their experience is an extremely difficult task, made even more psychologically perturbing when their courage is interpreted through the cultural prism of victim blaming. In this process, an individual finding the courage to speak up, to deny the perpetrator(s) the veil provided by silence, is interpreted as a ‘complainant’ (Ahmed, 2016). When this happens their status shifts from ‘victim’ to ‘complainer’ (Ahmed, 2016). Such processes are difficult to empirically untangle given Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs), organisational protections for perpetrators, and the self-blame and shame that those subject to abuse oftentimes feel (Campbell et al., 2009; Kelly, 1988). Rather than listen seriously to the concerns of others, there is a noticeable tendency in the university system to encourage people to ‘just grin and bear it’ (cf. Veer et al., 2021, this issue). What appears to be a simple discursive move is in reality reflective of complex undercurrents permeating the tenure system, the relations between junior and senior colleagues (Grier & Poole, 2020), and managerial myopia when it comes to the transgressive practices of people who are often repeat offenders – whether they are faculty members or students (Dick, 2015).

Indeed, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in the US estimate that 75% of harassment in the workplace is not reported (Golshan, 2017). Within academic circles, the investigation and public communication of incidents and organisational responses is rare (National Union of Students, 2018). Illustrating a facet of this issue, a joint report by the BBC and The Guardian in the UK drew attention to NDAs that students were asked to sign after settling cases against scholarly staff (Croxford, 2019) thereby hampering public knowledge of these problems. The fact that NDAs have become ‘commonplace’ has led to UK government reflection on this topic. This has called attention to the unequal power relations between employers with deep financial resources and those trying to hold them to account. It also recognises the needs of those whose physiological, psychological and financial energies may be severely depleted when they have to formally challenge institutional policies and practices:

We are concerned that the imbalance of power between employers and employees is one of the key drivers behind the widespread and commonplace use of NDAs in the settlement of discrimination cases. It is particularly worrying that secrecy about allegations of unlawful discrimination is being traded for things that employers should be providing as a matter of course, such as references and remedial action to tackle discrimination. We have been disappointed, but not surprised, to hear examples of large employers using the significant resources at their disposal to put considerable pressure on employees who pursue allegations of discrimination or harassment at tribunal … by making the process more protracted and difficult … instead of taking action to tackle and prevent future discrimination or harassment. There are widespread examples of poor practice in the handling of harassment and discrimination complaints. We are particularly concerned that some employers are using NDAs to avoid investigating unlawful discrimination and harassment complaints and holding perpetrators to account. (The Use of Non-disclosure Agreements, 2019)

Along with victim blaming there are other unwelcome consequences for those reporting their experiences. On social media, as a case in point, the trolling aimed at women for drawing attention to some of the issues discussed above is noxious (e.g., Chidgey, 2020). In certain instances, it has included death threats, such as those targeted at Caroline Criado-Perez, who launched a campaign for women to feature on British bank notes (Hattenstone, 2013). Academia is no different and this is increasingly being recognised (see Sharoni, 2018).

Sundaram and Jackson (2018, p. 4) emphasise how universities are organised around power relations which are ‘gendered, racialised and classed’, and ‘inequality in various forms (including harassment and violence) are characterised by a gender-unequal division of labour, distribution of power, and beliefs/discourses about gender difference that sustain this hierarchy’. This all demands appropriate answers at multiple levels. The response of many professional bodies has been to develop codes of conduct (e.g., Royal College of Physicians, 2018). Marketing groups have, of course, been actively involved in the production and promotion of many different codes and ethical frameworks (e.g., Tsalikis & Fritzsche, 1989), and the Committee on Advertising Practice, the Advertising Standards Authority, and the United Nations are all slowly working towards limiting the use of gender stereotypes in marketing communications (Varghese & Kumar, 2020). While many of these codes profess and promote the need for respect and trust, valuing inclusion, adherence to the law, etc. (cf. Holbrook, 2013), we, as a community, have been less successful in responding to the conditions within and outside the business school which perpetuate, and all too often fail to punish those who violate charters on diversity, inclusion, equality and misconduct (discussed below). While codes of conduct and related policies are important, challenging an ingrained toxic culture and changing it using a code of conduct with no stated consequences is difficult.

Other responses focus on calls to address the systemic, structural and institutional elements of inequality and injustice in university environs. As we have already indicated, listening to and telling the stories of survivors is an important step in making it difficult for perpetrators and institutions to hide their questionable activities (Waters & Magliocca, 2018). In this vein, Dykstra-DeVette and Tarin (2019, p. 390) stress:

Networks and professional associations can be a haven for sexual predators or they can be resources that support survivors and actively challenge the norms surrounding harassment. From this perspective, the #MeToo movement’s successes extend far beyond the removal of predators from positions of power. An important goal is the continual (re)construction of discursive communities of supporters and survivors who might serve as resources in dismantling the isolating structures of sexual harassment.

One group of PhD students have been discussing their own activism (Smyth et al., 2020, p. 859). Via the use of the encrypted messaging app, Signal, they have developed strategies to ‘vent, strategize, [and] support’ colleagues experiencing misconduct.

#MeToo and #TimesUp in marketing academia and practice

Not only does marketing academia share comparable stories of injustices and inequalities to those found in other disciplines, it also plays a role in reinforcing and perpetuating stereotypes through its research (McDonagh & Prothero, 2018). As the commentary by Prothero and McDonagh in this issue demonstrates, inequality persists and perverts the academy. Still, marketing practice extends its influence around the world, shaping the cultural context to the point of rendering this poisonous for some groups in terms of the values, images, and interpersonally violent relationships being encouraged (Boddewyn, 1991; Ferguson et al., 1990; Gurrieri et al., 2016; Kilbourne, 1999; Reese et al., 1987).

Unsurprisingly, our community has been implicated in promoting gender, race and sexual stereotypes (Davis, 2013; Glen, 2008; Grau & Zotos, 2016; Howard, 2010; Nam et al., 2011; Prothero & McDonagh, 2018; Shrestha, 2013; Williamson, 2003; Winship, 2000) on both traditional communications platforms and social media (Drenten & Gurrieri, 2018). These operate alongside sexist, racist and patriarchal artificial intelligence ‘experiences’ (e.g., Puntoni et al., 2020) underwritten by algorithmic bias (Schroeder, 2020). Alarmingly, some companies promote their products with extremely problematic labels – the Columbian makeup manufacturer, Masglo, being the most obvious example – and this means we are now once again witnessing the use of demeaning tropes and ‘abuse’ as central to ‘marketing strategy’ (Barrios et al., 2020). In equal measure, Wei and Bunjun (2020) ask us to remember that marketing, advertising and all the communications vehicles that are available for application can potentially be a force for good. Clearly, there are numerous instances of companies pursuing enlightened hiring strategies and producing marketing communications campaigns that support the representation of marginalised groups such as Hewlett-Packard, the Kochi Metro Rail Corporation, Tata Group, Brooke Bond and Loreal Paris among many others (e.g., Varghese & Kumar, 2020; cf. Francis & Robertson, this issue).

Like other disciplines, in marketing there is talk and debate about issues relating to various forms of misconduct. Conversations on the conference circuit all too frequently contain references to the morally and ethically questionable practices of certain figures. There are whispers of PhD students sharing lists of powerful male academics to avoid at such events for reasons ranging from ‘he likes Asian students’ to he ‘is well known for sleeping with PhD students’ through to ‘he gets students to find him brothels at conferences’ and more general ‘advice’ that ‘the workshop is well known for the male professors using it to seduce young female students’.

Recently, a roundtable session on combatting harassment and promoting well-being led by Ekant Veer and colleagues (2018), took place at the 2018 Association for Consumer Research (ACR) conference in Dallas. As a result of this well attended event, ACR issued a statement on diversity, equity and inclusiveness, and a new Ombudsteam was established (ACR, 2020). There is no policy or list of sanctions for those who do not adhere to ACR’s values as presented on their website. The American Marketing Association (AMA) also has a statement on diversity, equity and inclusion, and has introduced a code of conduct for its members: ‘The AMA does not tolerate sexual or personal harassment. Sexual or personal harassment in any form is strictly prohibited and may be grounds for suspension or termination as an officer, director or member of AMA’ (AMA, 2020; emphasis added).

Other groups, such as the Academy of Marketing Science, have codes of ethics for publishing, but nothing in relation to misconduct. In the UK, the Academy of Marketing has no statements or codes of conduct on its website, nor does the European Marketing Academy. The Consumer Culture Theory Consortium introduced a statement on harassment in 2018 (Consumer Culture Theory, 2020). It accentuates that sanctions against perpetrators are case-specific and that the primary purpose of the policy is intended to focus on ‘restoring persons who have been wronged’. In none of the policies we found was there a clear example of what particular behaviours would lead to sanction. Likewise, no information about the cases that have been pursued (even anonymised) exists. Thus, while a small number of policies have very recently been adopted, they lack clarity on what sanctions look like, and reporting structures remain problematic.

Earlier we noted how the #TimesUp Now movement aims to change ‘culture, companies, and law’. Extending this to our own community, we respectfully submit that related changes are needed within our professional and associational bodies. Policy needs to be appropriately framed, cited and flagged up at any professional event so that a marketing academic in future does not feel it is appropriate to ask a PhD student to find them a brothel during a conference. These policies need to be backed up by substantial sanctions (e.g., an appropriate time ban from all future events which accepts the possibility of personal change and development) and relevant communications flowing to the individual’s home institution or workplace for investigation. Sometimes the adage of ‘actions speak louder than words’ is important if we are to avoid producing codes of conduct that are essentially toothless.

The contents of the special issue

Turning to the contents of this special issue, we are delighted to include three poems, two commentaries and five competitive papers from scholars based in Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Ireland, New Zealand, the US and UK. The excellent work submitted is from established and senior colleagues in our field, alongside that of early career academics, and we are gratified to include the work of PhD students in our collection.

We begin with three poems. These are intended to set the scene for the competitive papers that follow. Structurally, the issue flows from the problems that various groups face in the marketplace (McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler; Martin et al.; Francis and Robertson) through to suggested solutions for dealing with some of the problems discussed above (Thompson-Whiteside and Turnbull; Burgess Wilkie and Dolan) which are explicated in more detail by Veer and colleagues in the final commentary (i.e. discrimination, micro aggression and so forth).

The marketing academy is blessed to have some wonderful poets in its midst, and we are elated that three eminent poets shared their work with us. Jennifer Takhar provides much food for thought with her prose poem Aporia. Building on the Derridean concepts of aporia and hauntology, she reflects on the vulnerability of graduate students and minority voices, and the implications of these within academia. Next, John Sherry shares his poem Mimetic Theory inspired by the work of René Girard. Issues of vulnerability take centre stage in John’s powerful words. As with Jennifer’s poem, sacrifice looms large too. And, finally, Hilary Downey picks up on the themes of vulnerability and trauma with her moving #ME TOO poetic reflection, set alongside a call for action.

In the opening commentary, Prothero and McDonagh explicate the gender composition of marketing’s academic journals, alongside an assessment of journal awards and anniversary issues. Building on the words of civil rights activist Marian Wright Edelman, ‘It’s hard to be what you cannot see’, Prothero and McDonagh make an impassioned plea for the academy to address existing inequalities within our journals, and provide a programme for change aimed at relevant gatekeepers, including editors-in-chief and publishing houses.

McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler provide us with a major contribution to a comparatively new research area, namely studies that explore market violence. As readers of the JMM will be aware, this is an area that has garnered considerable attention in recent years, with a special issue on the topic appearing in 2018 (e.g., https://www.tandfonline.com/toc/rjmm20/34/11-12). McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler expertly review the existing ‘market violence’ literature – a term they conceptualise in their paper. The market violence literature is a rich terrain. It has evident value in directing scholarly attention away from the assumptions of ‘win-win’ and mutually beneficial ‘relations’ into which everyone in the marketplace enters freely and happily. By contrast, market violence scholars present arguably more realistic perspectives that attempt to grasp how the domain of the market might be more conflict oriented than consensus-minded.

Obviously, it is an emerging frontier, and this means there is much room for further research. One core limitation with it at present is that it devotes comparatively little attention to the ways that capitalism, neoliberalism and markets dominate women. In their paper, McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler identify the structural connections that rivet the pornography market; the latter, in turn, is positioned as a capitalist structure that is founded upon and circulates sexual violence around the world. To do so, they adopt radical feminist theory as their lens. This perspective is based on a number of key ideas, and connected to a continuum of sexual violence provided by Liz Kelly’s (1988) important work which traced how sexual violence was a feature of women’s lives.

As part of their theoretical framework, McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler argue firstly, that male violence should be a focus of our attention if we wish to understand the oppression of women. Secondly, ‘male domination’ is effectively an institution. It foregrounds the relationship between men and women. As they write, it is a structural, political system whose ramifications ‘under patriarchy can be horrifically violent, but can also be subtle, mundane, ordinary, and embedded in the psyches of individual men and women’ (McVey et al. 2021, p. 46). Thirdly, both women and men are ‘sex-classes’ respectively. Fourthly, sexuality is directly connected to female structural-subordination (an area McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler carefully outline with considerable power).

Central to their account is an idea which has its origins in mainstream and feminist marketing thought, that is, that people can be products. In this case, their focus is the online pornography market. Catering mainly to male needs, it is literally a market that consumes people, uses their sexual labour and distributes it as a commodity around the world. McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler outline the contours of the market, documenting its monopolistic nature. They discuss its ongoing commitment to product development, connections to ‘standard business practices’, unpack the discursive moves used to legitimate the online pornography market, its reference to ‘actors’, their ‘choices’ regarding involvement in the ‘industry’, and the habits of the ultimate ‘customer’. This discursive edifice serves a significant function: it elides the violence at its core.

In an important move, McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler make the compelling case that this market will impact on many different groups, often in extremely negative ways. Those involved will face trauma and ongoing violence; for those living in the world of consumption, it can be an ever-present feature of the lifeworld, something that can rarely be avoided. In explaining these points, McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler link their narrative to the concept of choice. Being exposed to the pornographic market is increasingly unavoidable due to the diffusion of smart phones and tablets. As they write, a large amount of pornography is consumed during working hours, in public places, and in the work environment. This makes it a public health issue in the sense of being both a violent and intimidatory act.

Our next contribution by Diane Martin, Shelagh Ferguson, Janet Hoek and Catherine Hinder also has a markets focus. Their paper deals with one of the most notorious trades on the planet, the tobacco industry, and its parasitic association with the LGBTQ community. When we read about the history of this product and the massive industry that surrounds it, connecting it to the political classes, and medical community and embedding it firmly in the global political economy, at first it is hard to understand how it could take hold. For many years, it was condemned (e.g., by Charles I in England) and stigmatised (i.e. up to 1900).

Unfortunately, for marketing, our discipline – in conjunction with government and its need for taxation from tobacco (Taylor, 1984) – performed a major role in ensuring its uptake, diffusion, and the ‘human annihilation’ that followed (Kohrman & Benson, 2020). It is an industry that long knew the centrality of need creation to its financial success. Of necessity, the product had to be desirable enough in terms of brand symbolism that early experimenters could get past their negative reactions to it; at least, that is, until physiological and psychological addiction took hold (Brandt, 2009). Market research, branding and carefully planned campaigns were used to tie the product to the values of freedom, choice and emancipation (Brandt, 2009; Taylor, 1984). For those discursive connections, we have Edward Bernays and A. A. Brill to thank (other famous marketing figures associated with this industry included Rosser Reeves, the advertising agency BBDO, etc.). But marketing’s role here was not totally negative. Neil Borden, of marketing mix fame, registered that cigarette consumption was a habit that people would rarely avoid even when facing straitened circumstances (Brandt, 2009).

Throughout most of the history of this product, its manufacturers and distributors have appreciated the addictive qualities of their offering, often striving to make the merchandise even more addictive. Irrespective of product ‘improvements’ there is not and never will be a ‘safe’ cigarette (or, arguably, vaping product). Even more nefariously, the tobacco companies have actively gone out of their way to target children. According to Glantz et al. (1996, p. 59), most smokers start at age 14. Surely, this is one of the darkest forms of relationship marketing we can imagine. As Kilbourne explains:

Sometimes the pernicious effects of advertising are unintended, but this is certainly not the case with cigarette advertising. The tobacco industry is in the business of getting children addicted to nicotine. It has to get three thousand children to start smoking every day simply to replace those smokers who die or quit (in the United States alone). Why children? Because 90 percent of all smokers start smoking before they are eighteen years old and 60 percent start before high school. (Kilbourne, 1999, pp. 180–181, emphasis in original)

Securing children as consumers with a strong brand, sold through vibrant and sociable imagery effectively meant a company would probably hold them as customers until the day they died (see Taylor, 1984, pp. 274–275). Now, of course, this industry has its tentacles in the ‘developing world’, where they secure access to markets via bribery and through the purchase of local firms, often having been assisted by governmental groups (Kohrman & Benson, 2020; Taylor, 1984). Tobacco, quite literally, is an ‘engine of human annihilation, labor exploitation, and environmental degradation’ which continues to wreck the communities it touches (Kohrman & Benson, 2020, p. A-5).

With this as a background, Martin et al. reiterate that big tobacco has not gone away. It is just extremely good at identifying the next target for its harmful products, once again embroidering them with the kinds of associations likely to speak to the needs and desires of the population concerned. Using the work of Pierre Bourdieu combined with New Social Movement theory, Martin et al. (2021) make the case that the LGBTQ community (or ‘social movement’ in their account) were subject to serious levels of ‘marketplace violence’ combined with symbolic violence (i.e. a non-physical form of violence that reflects and reinforces the status quo).

Like the paper by McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler, Martin et al. make a substantive contribution to the marketing/market violence literature. Using a retrospective case study that draws its historical narrative from US tobacco marketing practices, they focus their attention on the lead up to and fall out from what was called Project SCUM, a campaign that was undertaken by R.J. Reynolds which sought to target the gay population in San Francisco. In the period 1991–2004, the relationship between big tobacco and the LGBTQ community was complex, sometimes fraught, and ultimately partly fractious; only ‘partly’ due to the fact that by the end of the narrative, big tobacco had embedded its product within the LGBTQ community, where it continues to serve the function of social lubrication, and thus has become difficult to remove via social marketing campaigns.

When reading this paper, it is abundantly clear that big tobacco is one of the most skilful manipulators of human nature on the planet. They have been selling death for years. Approaching Martin et al.’s narrative, it is depressing to see an industry wreak havoc once again. This is ‘marketplace violence’ that is, in this case, an ongoing series of acts emanating from an extremely powerful industry, in full knowledge of the harm it was doing on a less privileged group. This is not a critique of the LGBTQ movement. As Martin et al. tell the reader, the tobacco firms ‘carefully curated’ their communications campaigns to speak to the needs of the community. Linkages were made to issues of choice, rebellion, resistance, and solidarity. Without doubt, reading this paper is fascinating and depressing by turns. But it is only by understanding the practices of those who seek to commit marketplace and symbolic violence that we can begin to work against them effectively.

As with McVey, Gurrieri and Tyler and Martin et al., the article on ‘White’ spaces by June Francis and Joshua Robertson also considers the role of the market and various marketing actors in contributing to injustices and inequality. Francis and Robertson emphasise how marketing research to date has paid scant attention to racial injustices. In their paper, they examine how normalised racist and discriminatory practices are brought about by the actions of real estate agents, lenders and retailers. Paradigmatically, they use the resources of Critical Race Theory (CRT) to study these issues. By using counter-narrative storytelling, CRT brings issues of racial discrimination to the fore.

Their narrative is hugely impressive, tracking the conditions of possibility for the operation of this industry, focusing in detail on government policy, legislative actions and bias that work against the interests of some groups whilst privileging others. Francis and Robertson unpack how race assumptions delimit African American and Black consumer agency at the same time as lining the pockets of white agents and advancing the interests of their white customers. Importantly, they determine how racist practices periodically undergo change, becoming less overt and more subtle. Whatever form the practices take, and irrespective of the language used to shroud them, the ramifications remain extremely deleterious.

To name just a few of the troubling barriers deliberately placed in front of African American and Black consumers: they are subject to housing discrimination (e.g., shown fewer houses, often in less desirable neighbourhoods); they have to deal with credit discrimination (e.g., loans cost more and greater deposits are needed to secure financing); and are collectively disadvantaged by the practices of multiple interconnected industries. These factors – ‘steering’, ‘blockbusting’, ‘redlining’, ‘black-listing’, and ‘yellow-listing’ – act in concert to compound the disadvantages faced by these groups. Nor have these challenges disappeared. Variants continue to the present day. Suffice to say that our summary of Francis and Robertson’s paper cannot hope to do it adequate justice, and the paper merits close attention from all those interested in issues of marketplace justice, consumer choice, decision-making, marketing communications, and historically sedimented power relations.

The next paper speaks to the wider literature on culture jamming and subvertising, albeit with an internal focus that is oriented around overhauling the internal working of the advertising industry. Thompson-Whiteside and Turnbull document the prevalence of sexual harassment in this community of practice.

In spite of the fact that the advertising profession is constituted by a roughly 50–50 male-female gender split, it remains riven with high levels of sexual harassment. To take action against harassment, a non-profit organisation in France called Les Lionnes has engaged in an activist advertising campaign(s) to draw attention to the types of derogatory, demeaning and violent language and practices faced on a day-to-day basis in the industry. Their guerrilla marketing approach has used the words of harassers against them. As part of their communications strategy, Les Lionnes target their actions close to the workplaces of abusers (i.e. billboards are placed in proximity to the relevant firm) and sometimes even within the advertising agency where abuse is ongoing (e.g., in the toilets of the offender’s employer).

Part of Les Lionnes’ effort involves a refusal to let sexist, humiliating, and derogatory comments remain in the (relatively) private domain. The language and abuse which male cyber-bullies, senior work colleagues and related figures dole out are all turned into public statements emblazoned on mass communications vehicles. As the founder of Les Lionnes, Christelle Delarue, articulates: ‘In the industry, everybody is aware of the bad guy, everyone is aware but no one wants to talk about it. We make them talk about it’ (Thompson-Whiteside & Turnbull, 2021, p. 133). In this case, advertising and marketing communications become tools for the revelation, problematisation and activist-oriented change that needs to take place in the French world of advertising. Here ‘the instruments of the industry’ are used ‘against the abusers within it’. This is what Thompson-Whiteside and Turnbull (2021, p. 136) call #Metoovertising, that is, a form of ‘non-personal communication from an identified sponsor using mass media to raise awareness of sexual harassment’ (see also Thompson-Whiteside et al., 2020).

Burgess, Wilkie and Dolan outline an intriguing account of brand diversity projects and their role in building connectedness with audiences. Aware of existing controversies, the authors provide a framework for effective diversity initiatives. In doing so, they propose three characteristics required for success in terms of establishing audience connectedness: a) how marketers approach diversity, with a focus on how many diversity characteristics are represented and the visual/non-visual cues utilised to signal diversity; b) how these tactics are perceived by audiences; and c) the level of belief congruence achieved – here the authors consider if the diversity depicted is congruent with the beliefs of target audiences. Burgess, Wilkie and Dolan suggest that if marketers follow the explicated framework, they will be in a better position to resonate with a broad audience. The authors provide a thorough review of a wide literature examining diversity, and use this in making practical recommendations.

From a theoretical perspective, 7 propositions for key drivers of audience connectedness are provided. Stressing the importance of an intersectional approach, Burgess, Wilkie and Dolan underline how we have many identities, all of which can lead to oppression in one form or another. In doing so, they underscore the importance of considering intersections and interactions when exploring inequality and injustice. Burgess, Wilkie and Dolan conclude by reminding us of the need to avoid tokenism within advertising contexts, and call for future research to explore diversity marketing – a crucial topic in terms of the welfare of society.

Allies can help create supportive, nurturing and safe environments in universities and industry alike (Thompson-Whiteside et al., 2020). In their paper, Ekant Veer, Kseniia Zahrai and Susannah Stevens along with a host of academic and administratively oriented respondents carefully explain the logic behind our need for allies, where they can help, what we can all do, and the systems that can help us manage the types of discrimination and micro aggressions that many of us will unfortunately face over our careers (see also Barrios et al., 2020). Veer, Zahrai and Stevens register that academia can reflect the best human traits, and some of the worst. As such, they conceptualise allies along three initial dimensions. Firstly, those who will help us improve awareness of problematic issues in the work environment; secondly, those who can drive process changes; and thirdly, allies who de-normalise bad practice.

Veer, Zahrai and Stevens provide a rich trove of insights, list technology that could help reduce the possibility of victimisation (and re-victimisation), illuminate the various types of training institutions should consider (e.g., bystander training), and list a substantial range of recommendations that should be a first port of call for those wanting to rethink unhealthy internal organisational relationships. It is a fitting final paper for our special issue.

What next?

While on a phone call a few years ago, the two of us were discussing the woes of being a marketing academic, and how we felt that our community of practice had taken steps backwards in terms of inclusivity, justice and equality since we had both joined the academy in the 1990s and 2000s respectively. Extensive engagement with a wide spectrum of people has opened our eyes to both the positive and negative experiences that our colleagues and friends have faced. Our research, moreover, has exposed us to accounts of discrimination and harassment that are deeply saddening.

Reflecting on these manifold troubling experiences, it seemed to us that the powerful words ‘#MeToo’ were relevant to business schools generally and to the marketing academy specifically. What then could we both do to play a part in the #TimesUp movement and identify necessary social change to move us beyond inequality and injustice based on, for instance, one’s gender, race, class, sexuality, and/or ability? One avenue open to us was our ability to provide a space for colleagues to write about their experiences, while also offering recommendations for moving forward too. Hence this #MeToo and beyond special issue was born. We recognise our privilege in having access to a journal willing to run the special issue.

Yet, it is fair to say we were both (and still are) incredibly nervous about putting our names to a #MeToo issue and the potential backlash we may face as a result. Calling out one’s profession is never an easy task. However, the various movements we have followed over the past few years brings to the fore how important it is. We also felt strongly that if we didn’t use the privileges we had available, we would be doing a dis-service to our community. We are honoured to put our names as special issue editors to this body of work, and once again thank all of our contributors for their excellent scholarship. We are grateful to the unsung heroes of the publication process, our reviewers. Their willingness to serve as unpaid evaluators of others’ work never ceases to amaze us, and we thank them all for their efforts, especially for turning around reviews so quickly during the COVID pandemic. Dr. Anne Foy and Fiona Lees in the administrative office at the JMM deserve considerable applause as well for the extensive help and assistance they have provided throughout this process.

Our poems, commentaries and competitive papers provide much food for thought on inequality and injustice within marketing academia and practice. They offer suggestions for future research and pinpoint how we might make the academy a more inclusive place. We encourage future researchers to build on the insights offered here. In terms of the intellectual community, we call for journals to address the inequalities which exist amongst their editorial boards. At the same time, we urge our professional bodies and associations to put more effort into developing and implementing codes of conduct (including sanctions) for their members. In so doing, we register the need for us all to play a part in changing our culture in the hope that emerging scholars will never have to utter the words #MeToo.

Notes

1. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMuBh-kzHDU&ab_channel=TheLateShowwithStephenColbert.

2. This was written prior to Donald Trump’s election defeat. However, the values and assumptions that Trump, Kushner and company trade upon are in wide circulation. So, in effect, their names are placeholders for views that we must always problematise or they will return with a vengeance. After all, it is disconcerting how – for instance, – white supremacist views and values skew the output of chatbots soon after their release; Tay, the Twitter bot distributed by Microsoft, being an exemplar (see Puntoni et al., 2020). The same can be said of the invocation of antifeminist hashtags ‘to demean’ specific groups (e.g., Barrios et al., 2020).