Stassa Edwards last wrote about the semiotics of Taylor Swift’s blondeness.
Young Woman Using Smartphone at Sunset
Last week, purveyor of stock photography Getty Images introduced the “Lean In Collection,” a new collection of 2,500 photographs created in partnership with Sheryl Sandberg’s ever-growing empire. Meant to remedy the historic wrongs that stock photography has inflicted upon women, the collection–which promises to expand–currently touts photographs that “represent women and families in more empowering ways.” Since women have leaned in to nearly every inanimate object over the past year, it makes sense that stock photography should get the treatment, too.
The “Lean In Collection” is a good idea in theory. Stock photography is awful and awfully committed to inane gender stereotypes; types so bad that blogs like The Hairpin and The Cut can make photo galleries that look more like a surreal Cindy Sherman project than photographs appropriate for major media organizations. But if Women Laughing Alone with Salad or Women Wearing Boxing Gloves With Sexy Outfits—Or Nothing At All aren’t “empowering ways” to represent women, then what exactly does feminist stock photography look like? And what kinds of stock photography garners the approval of Sandbergian feminists?
Mature woman with long grey hair, standing.
If we’re to believe the “Lean In Collection,” photographs of empowered women look a bit like Lean In’s vernacular sounds: Something in between inspirational affirmations and MBA-speak. The stock woman smiles introspectively while working at startups, stands inspirationally in front of sunbeams, has a meaningful relationship with Mac products, crosses her arms confidently in front of her, and challenges herself physically (Sandberg acolytes must love Crossfit). Her hair is always shiny and her smile is always introspective. She either wears power suits or the relaxed semi-wrinkled linen that signifies money. Her daughter is also “empowered” – she likes STEM – and is never sexualized. When her hair turns gray, she radiates wisdom and the self-confidence of mature knowledge.
Like all stock photography, the “Lean In Collection” reproduces generic ideals packaged for easy reproduction. But Lean In is not an ideology – it’s a brand that sells a message of “overcoming internal obstacles” in order to “acquire power.” And the stock women of Lean In are neatly assembled into the brand’s preexisting narrative: Empowerment is visible, tangible, and easily illustrated in a single photographic frame. “You can’t be what you can’t see,” Jessica Bennett, contributing editor of LeanIn.org, told Mashable, “so if women and girls are not seeing images of powerful women and girls who are leaders, then they may not aspire to become that.”
Bennett’s point is an important one: Visibility is an essential component of power, and photography is central to that endeavor; think of all of the “selfies” that proliferate online or the debates over fashion photography’s use of Photoshop. But visibility is also more complex than Bennett and “Lean In” assume. Photographs, the French scholar Roland Barthes wrote, are a “message without a code,” illegible without the headlines or captions that accompany them. The contextual written lines “banish” anything outside of the photograph and direct “the reader… toward a meaning chosen in advance.” This describes Lean In’s stock photographs perfectly—they seem almost custom-made for the next story asking (yet again) if women can really have it all.
The Lean In brand itself is synonymous with upper-middle class labor and the leisure that labor affords, so it’s no surprise that the modern woman envisaged by the Sandberg set is largely white, straight, and free from the tasks of domestic labor. Visibility for women of color is more complicated.
Three African women collect green tea leaves in the countryside of Uganda
Though a number of the photographs tagged “African American identity” depict black women in professional situations, a significant number feature African women in “native” environments, posing directly for the camera à la National Geographic and performing labor associated with the third world. When one compares representations of African-American women with their white counterparts, then the “Lean In Collection” posits very different norms for each. Women of “Indian and Asian Identities” fare similarly. Needless to say, there are no white women depicted in “primitive” settings (the closest they get is camping).
If women of color acquire a somewhat uneven identity, then trans and lesbian women have an even more difficult time. There are no identified trans women in the “Lean In Collection.” Lesbians are depicted solely in domestic settings: they stand in kitchens, co-parent, and swing on porches. They are always part of a couple. That is, admittedly, far better than the typical stock photograph; much of the Getty image pool is dedicated to lesbians wearing sexy lingerie and languidly lying on crumpled sheets. But the range of photographic identities available to LGTBQ women is still limited, and they conform to an acceptable cultural narrative about gender and sexual identity.
The only common thread through each of the subcategories is motherhood. Its depiction is one that’s particularly tied to an upper-middle class ethos. Motherhood is generally represented as a leisure activity – women enjoy swimming in lakes and running through fields of flowers with their children. Frustrated women dragging their crying toddler to daycare have been banished to real life, as have childcare workers. In the fictional world of Lean In stock photography, childcare is always masterfully performed by fathers. This is a world in which daycare, nannies, and baby sitters have been rendered invisible. It is also a world that wouldn’t exist without that invisible (and often underpaid) labor.
Perhaps it’s not surprising that the “Lean In Collection” relies so heavily on flattened identities and invisibility. One could argue that it’s the very nature of stock photography. But the identities obscured here are of a particular type–the kind that might throw a wrench into the seamless Lean In fairy tale. Organizationally, Lean In has long demurred when asked about social and political policies that prevent women from achieving workplace equality. While the brand’s higher ups acknowledge the need for policy reform, they largely stick to their narrative of breaking down “internal obstacles” that prevent women from moving up the corporate ladder. Women of color, LGTBQ women, and poor women (groups that often have a strong overlap) face real structural discrimination that can’t be surmounted simply by trying harder.
The photographs have been carefully curated to give lie to the brand’s consumer-driven philosophies. They exist ready to be downloaded to illustrate stories about female entrepreneurs who are “bold,” “visionary,” corporate success stories. These chatty stories already populate LeanIn.org’s website: pointers on how to divvy up housework, lean in to your marriage, and first person essays by stay-at-home dads. Absent from the website are stories about poverty reform or child care legislation – stories that might address structural discrimination rather than self-imposed hang ups. Like the stock photographs, they produce a kind of gender norm and prescribe what women should look like now. But visibility’s relationship to “empowerment” is slipperier than that. Visibility can be a “vise,” as Barthes would have it, which locks in the predetermined, preventing us from turning away and seeing competing accounts.
The “Lean In Collection” has moved past the outdated gender stereotypes of Women Laughing Alone With Salad. But its photographs neatly categorize the lives of modern women into a brand-friendly narrative. It’s a best a partial narrative—one in which the messy lives of all women aren’t all present.
Tags: feminism, lean in, stassa edwards, stock photography, the internet
I guess I’m just not sure how different stock photography is supposed to help fix systemic inequality and opression. It’s white, middle-class feminism, ignoring the more complex and difficult barriers to women that exist in the real world – just like Lean In, I guess.
(Though a more balanced, less gross stock photography is cool)
I don’t get this whole endeavor AT ALL. Of all of the things one could do to help women’s actual lives, this is the first thing that Lean In pursues?
I cannot snap hard enough for this. Fantastic.
Also, that ginger dad.
Stassa, this is interesting & smart & also, I’m so glad I didn’t have to go through those images myself, I think my eyes would be crossed by now. It’s fascinating to see the brand message popping up in different contexts & especially to have intelligent analysis of that message.
Amusingly enough, I just visited the Facebook page for a women’s business association the my organization is helping to get established in a very poor Asian country and they were using a stock photo of a bunch of white women in suits as their cover image. (I cleaned up and cropped a photo of the actual women in the organization for them to use… doing my part!)
But yeah don’t think this is a “silly” issue — I’m sure they image searched “business women” and didn’t see any that looked remotely like them.
You know, as I was reading through the part about women of color and the Lean In collection, I was initially like “oh, okay, so there are women of color dress professionally, and others that are in more rural circumstances wearing “native” dress.. okay, so what are the other options?” Reading your anecdote made me realize how narrowly I was thinking… how may stock photos are there of a group of black women or East/Southeast Asian women or Latinas are there, in white collar clothes, working?
Also, as I’m thinking about this I’m wondering if there are any pictures of any women doing factory work, or working in a call center, or working in the health care industry…
Yes, the burden is more squarely on the makers of the marketing–to use images that truly represent their target audience, and promote diversity and realism. As a graphic designer who spends a lot of time on stock image sites, I appreciate LeanIn getting more variety out there, but it’s up to the users to create the demand for better stock images.
Great commentary! I took a brief look through the collection, but didn’t have time to dive in.
I spend pretty much all day looking at/selecting stock photography for children’s books – and while the company I work for is committed to diversity, sometimes it’s incredibly difficult. Also, Getty is one of the more expensive sites. They’ve got two subsidiary micro-stock sites – istock and thinkstock – which cost much less. However, it’s also a lot more difficult to find diversity on those sites. We have the budget to pay more per image to create a better look, but I’m sure a lot of other people don’t. Also, you have to actively look for it, and sometimes the filters (sorting by gender, ethnicity, etc.) are just awful.
This explains so much about my inherent aversion to the entire “Lean In” phenomenon.
Yep! “Something in between inspirational affirmations and MBA-speak” summed it up perfectly in a way I was previously unable to.
I hate being photographed, but would volunteer myself as a stock image of “lesbian eating baked beans from a can with a spoon” if it would help the internet. Always down to do my part.
I hate being photographed, but would volunteer myself as a stock image of "lesbian eating baked beans from a can with a spoon" if it would help the internet. Always down to do my part.
It’s interesting how much the stock photos reveal – and maybe not in a good way – about Lean In. This is a fascinating read, for sure.
Also, I hope when I grow up my hair grows in white and wise just like that lady in the stock photo. But reality is, it probably won’t. Stock photos, you guys, they lie.
It's interesting how much the stock photos reveal – and maybe not in a good way – about Lean In. This is a fascinating read, for sure.
Also, I hope when I grow up my hair grows in white and wise just like that lady in the stock photo. But reality is, it probably won't. Stock photos, you guys, they lie.
So the author assumes that
– Any woman standing alone must be straight?
– All the Black women with Macs must be in the States, and not in Joburg or Nairobi? The agricultural workers may not be the only Africans.
– If a White child is photographed with a White woman, that woman couldn’t possibly be a nanny or babysitter?
I don’t know what type of “primitive” surroundings she would place White women in, but I see at least 20 pictures of White women working on farms when searching the collection.
I’m sure that Getty’s collection isn’t 100% perfect, but is perfection a realistic expectation? I really do think that criticism is useful when it makes suggestions, but this just feels like friendly fire.
Would the author would rather Getty have maintained its homogeneous collection of harried Swedish businesswomen with crying babies in their briefcases, than to have tried to make things better and have only made it 75% of the way?
"Needless to say, there are no white women depicted in “primitive” settings (the closest they get is camping)" <– but are there white women camping in "exotic" locations and posing with "inspiring native women"?? Just to round it all out, I mean.
And lo, by the Side Part in their Alternative Lifestyle Haircut did we know them.
” Motherhood is generally represented as a leisure activity – women enjoy swimming in lakes and running through fields of flowers with their children. Frustrated women dragging their crying toddler to daycare have been banished to real life…” Hysterical! Though I suppose stock photography has commerce as its purpose and I’m not sure what one could promote/sell with a screaming infant in a soiled diaper – oh wait, clean diapers?
I didn’t get all the things you showed above. Most of the things are really confusing. You might express all the stuffs in simple way. Don’t mind I just expressed my opinion.