B*tch Better Have My Money: The gendered politics of asking to be paid

While not necessarily taboo, there is a bizarre sort of discomfort about a woman asking to be paid. Not paid extravagantly or more than her coworkers, but being paid what her work is worth. 

Women and femininity have historically been expected to embody nurture and care rather than ambition and capital. They must compromise, mentor, nurture and ‘bear it with a smile’. Financial independence was deemed incompatible with these expectations.

While most women at present do have financial independence or at least, the choice to work, the likeability tax still exists – a woman can either be agreeable, socially acceptable and underpaid or assertive, demanding and ‘unlikeable’. We now applaud women for breaking glass ceilings but become uncomfortable when they send the invoice. The ‘good woman’ is expected to be ambitious but not ask for more than what she is being given, even if it is below the kind of work she is doing. Men, on the other hand, are praised for being assertive.

The ‘money hungry’ woman stereotype is nothing new. For centuries, women’s relationship with money has been moralised, despite money being a primary means for survival. Historically, many women had little to no choice and had to depend on their husbands amd fathers for financial security yet the same economic dependence later became grounds for portraying women as opportunistic or greedy. Women are encouraged to be financially independent but are dismissed or criticized for openly pursuing financial success and equity.

A pervasive example of this is found in the entertainment industry, specifically Hollywood and Bollywood. Male actors are paid the highest and women, typically women of colour and other minority groups are paid the least. If a male actor speaks out against the pay gap, he is lauded whereas a woman speaking out is ‘ungrateful’ ‘money hungry’ and told to do it for the ‘art, not the money’ (despite acting being their literal job). For instance, in American Hustle (2013), a 2014 Sony email hack revealed that Jennifer Lawrence and Amy Adams were paid significantly less than their male costars – with the women receiving 7% of back-end profits while the men received 9%.. Lawrence wrote an essay for Lena Dunham's newsletter, Lenny Letter  titled ‘Why Do These Dudes Make More Than Me?’ where she essentially blamed herself for inadequate negotiation and her hesitation to speak out for fear of being perceived as a ‘brat’. Furthermore, the leaked emails contained male producers calling Angelina Jolie a ‘minimally talented spoiled brat’ as well as revealed pay gaps between executives of the same title and standing, with the female executive earning around $1 million less than her male counterpart. This email leak was a massive catalyst for the Equal Pay movement in entertainment, yet wage disparity persists.

Women of colour face further denial of wage equity. Korean American actress Arden Cho, who played Kira Yukimura on hit teen show Teen Wolf, was reportedly offered half of – or according to Cho herself , even less than half of – what her white female costars were making on an episode by episode basis. It is because of this that Cho declined to return for the reboot of the show, the Teen Wolf Movie released in 2022-23, later noting in interviews how the industry often leveraged financial desperation and social pressure to force compliance

Hollywood merely reflects this cultural phenomenon rather than being the root of it.  Identical expectations exist in boardrooms, classrooms, hospitals and even creative industries. Women are told to work hard, strive for more and know their worth however when they do exactly that, they are judged and even ostracised as opposed to the men who demand the same. The issue is no longer only why women should demand equal pay but why asking for the same carries such social penalties.