These questions become particularly pressing because feminism has long contained a productive tension between ethics and politics. On the one hand, feminist movements have often emphasized individual responsibility, ethical reflection, and attentiveness to exclusion. On the other hand, feminism has also sought collective political transformation. The relationship between these impulses has never been simple. Under neoliberalism, however, it becomes increasingly fraught.

In interviews I conducted with Swedish left-wing feminists, this tension emerged repeatedly. The women I spoke to described feminism not only as a political commitment but also as a way of relating to themselves and others. Feminism appeared as an ethical practice, a mode of self-reflection, and a continuous effort to act correctly in relation to questions of power and oppression.

Criticism occupied a particularly important place within these accounts. Many interviewees described criticism as a defining feminist practice. They emphasized the importance of scrutinizing norms, questioning privileges, and critically examining their own behavior. Feminism was often presented as a project of becoming conscious — of identifying one’s own complicity in oppressive structures and of taking responsibility for one’s actions.

There is much to admire in this orientation. Political movements that are incapable of self-reflection often reproduce the very forms of domination they seek to challenge. Feminist critiques of everyday power relations have expanded our understanding of politics in invaluable ways.

Yet the interviews also revealed some of the difficulties that emerge when political questions become primarily ethical ones. Several participants described themselves as highly self-conscious political actors, constantly evaluating whether particular actions were sufficiently informed, inclusive, or politically correct. Freedom was often discussed in terms of making conscious choices rather than transforming the conditions within which choices are made.

This emphasis on individual responsibility mirrors broader neoliberal forms of subjectivity. Rather than focusing on the structures that shape possibilities for action, individuals are encouraged to focus on their own decisions within those structures. The result is not necessarily empowerment. In many cases, it produces anxiety.

The fear of acting incorrectly, of causing harm, or of being criticized by others can become politically paralyzing. One interviewee captured this dynamic succinctly when she explained that she would rather refrain from acting than risk doing something wrong. Such statements reveal an important contradiction. The ethical demand to act responsibly can, under certain conditions, undermine political action itself. This is not because ethical concerns are inherently conservative. Nor is it because criticism lacks political value. The problem is rather that individualized responsibility offers a weak response to problems that are fundamentally collective.

The contemporary subject is repeatedly told that she is responsible for changing the world while simultaneously possessing very limited power to do so. Under these conditions, self-criticism can easily become self-surveillance.

A similar tension emerged in discussions of inclusion and exclusion. For decades, feminist theorists have criticized political movements for presenting particular experiences as universal ones. Feminist, anti-racist, and queer critiques have shown how political projects often marginalize those who do not conform to dominant norms. Such critiques remain indispensable. Every emancipatory movement must remain attentive to its own exclusions. Yet the political context in which these critiques operate has changed significantly.

The neoliberal era has not been characterized by excessive collectivism. On the contrary, it has witnessed the erosion of many collective political institutions and identities. Trade unions have weakened, political parties have lost members, and social life has become increasingly individualized. In this context, an exclusive emphasis on criticizing political identities risks reinforcing rather than challenging the fragmentation of collective life.

The interviews repeatedly demonstrated the importance participants attached to questioning norms and resisting homogenization. These commitments are ethically and politically valuable. Yet they also raise questions. Can politics function without making general claims? Can political movements exist without constructing collective subjects?

Every political project requires some degree of commonality. It requires demands, goals, and identities that extend beyond individual experiences. While critique may reveal the limits of existing political formations, it cannot by itself provide an alternative. A politics that only deconstructs risks becoming politically impotent. This does not mean abandoning concerns about exclusion. Rather, it means recognizing that the contemporary challenge may be less about destabilizing collective identities than about constructing them. The problem confronting much of the Left today is not excessive political unity but an inability to formulate common political projects capable of mobilizing broad constituencies.

The tension between ethics and politics appears again in contemporary discussions of vulnerability. In recent years, vulnerability has become an increasingly important concept within feminist theory and the feminist movement. Against neoliberal fantasies of autonomy and self-sufficiency, vulnerability highlights human dependency, interconnection, and exposure to harm. This intervention has been politically significant. It reminds us that individuals are never fully autonomous and that responsibility for others remains a fundamental political and ethical question.

At the same time, vulnerability alone cannot provide a political perspective. The fact that human beings are vulnerable tells us relatively little about why some groups are more vulnerable than others or about how vulnerability is distributed across society. Without a political analysis of institutions, power, and material conditions, vulnerability risks becoming an ontological condition rather than a political category.

The challenge is therefore not simply to recognize vulnerability but to explain its production. Who becomes vulnerable? Under what conditions? Through which social and economic arrangements? Answering these questions requires politics rather than ethics alone.

Taken together, these tensions suggest that certain ethical tendencies within contemporary feminism have become increasingly compatible with neoliberal forms of subjectivity. A focus on individual responsibility risks reinforcing the individualization promoted by neoliberal ideology. A persistent suspicion toward collective identities can contribute to the fragmentation of political life. An emphasis on vulnerability may substitute ontological reflection for political analysis.

This does not mean that feminism should abandon ethics. Indeed, such a conclusion would be both politically and morally mistaken.

Ethical commitments continue to play an indispensable role in political life. Collective action often begins with ethical impulses: concern for others, outrage at injustice, and a desire to alleviate suffering. To dismiss such motivations would be to embrace a form of political cynicism that the contemporary left can ill afford. Moreover, abandoning ethics would amount to conceding one of the central ideological battles of the neoliberal era. Neoliberalism does not simply individualize responsibility. It also seeks to narrow the range of values through which social life can be understood. Against the neoliberal insistence that economic rationality should govern all spheres of life, the Left must continue to defend values such as solidarity, care, and mutual responsibility.

In this sense, we may need more ethics rather than less. But it must be a different kind of ethics. The task is not to intensify the moralization of individual conduct. It is to develop ethical commitments that support collective political action rather than substitute for it. An ethics capable of challenging neoliberalism must direct attention toward the material conditions within which people act. It must ask not only how individuals ought to behave but also what social arrangements make ethical action possible. Political transformation ultimately requires changing those conditions.

The question is therefore not whether feminism should be ethical or political. It is how ethics can be articulated in ways that strengthen rather than weaken collective politics.