Podcast
Culture
Feminism
S&U interviews
4 min read

My conversation with… Louise Perry

Re-enchanting sex. Yes, you read that right. Belle Tindall reflects on her somewhat spicy conversation with Louise Perry for the Re-Enchanting podcast.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

A woman smiles as she speaks into a microphone. In the background is Big Ben.
Louise Perry recording at Lambeth Palace Library.

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Radical feminist. Counter-feminist. Arch-conservative. Progressive puritan: the name Louise Perry comes with a milieu of labels attached to it, and after spending a couple of hours in her company, I would suggest that not one of them can adequately contain her.  

Louise has written and released an utter grenade of a book. Love it or loathe it, you simply cannot ignore it. The Case Against the Sexual Revolution is exactly what it claims to be, a thorough (and admittedly compelling) dismissal of the notion that the 1960s sexual revolution was a leap forward for the well-being of women. According to the book, the idea that it was/is some sort of feminist victory is simply a myth, or more sinister than that, a lie.  

If Louise is wrong, she has boldly given us the opportunity to enjoy disagreeing with her and her provocative views. But if there is even an ounce of truth in what Louise is suggesting, then it surely needs to be shouted from the rooftops.  

Personally, I found myself in both agreement and disagreement while speaking with her for the Re-Enchanting… podcast. I’ll start with the disagreements, of which I admittedly wish there were more.

Where I have tended to focus my feminist efforts on achieving equality among the sexes, Louise is promoting wellbeing. 

Louise defines herself as an agnostic, I define myself as a Christian, we both define ourselves as feminists. And yet, in what is perhaps an unexpected turn of events, Louise sits in a more conservative space than I do when it comes to what that feminism tends to look like. Maybe that makes me the exact type of person for whom her book was written. Where I have tended to focus my feminist efforts on achieving equality among the sexes, Louise is promoting wellbeing. And, according to Louise, they simply are not always the same thing. A solution to a society where masculine attributes are always favoured is not, Louise suggests, to encourage women to assimilate these masculine attributes (for therein lies the ultimate flaw in the sexual revolution). Rather, we should demand that our society learn to value attributes that are distinctly feminine, such as motherhood.  

In hindsight, I wish I had asked Louise what such a society would look like for me, who is not a mother. How can I be valued? Are women who don’t, for assorted reasons, fit the mould of wife and mother inevitably pushed to the margins of this kind of ideal? Is the discrimination that we may face simply a result of the un-traditional unfolding of our own lives?  

There is so much truth in Louise Perry’s bleak diagnosis of our modern sexual ethic, it almost hurts to hear it. The thing is, it needs to be heard. 

That, and her emphasis on evolutionary biology as the primary explanation behind sexual assault (something which, working at a rape crisis centre, she has witnessed the trauma of in close proximity), are where Louise and I come to a fork in the road and seemingly favour differing routes. Call it naivety, but I suppose I leave a little more room for redemption and innate goodness in my worldview (and therefore, a lot more room for the condemnation of societies that propagate male violence because I have decided to expect, and therefore ideologically demand, more from men) than evolutionary biology tends to allow.  

Despite this, I would suggest that there is so much truth in Louise Perry’s bleak diagnosis of our modern sexual ethic, it almost hurts to hear it. The thing is, it needs to be heard.  

We spoke a lot about ‘sexual disenchantment,’ something which she mentions in her book. In keeping with Max Weber’s definition of such, sexual disenchantment is the (very recent) idea that sex is meaningless; it is just one of the many social interactions we have on any given day, akin to making a coffee for a colleague in the office, or meeting someone for a game of tennis. There is nothing inherently unique, sacred, or distinct about it. At least, not if one decides there isn’t. Any meaning attributed to sex can be an added extra.  

The interesting thing, according to Louise, is that while society may believe on some ideological level that this is true, most of us simply do not live like it is. Afterall, if there is no unique understanding of sexual activity, there can be no unique understanding of sexual assault. As Louise chillingly stated, if this were the case, rape would just be a form of theft. And yet- both instinctively and legally, that is not how we perceive it.  

Therefore, whether we like it or not, Louise forces us to ask ourselves this deeply uncomfortable question: is such a disenchanted perception of reality truly benefitting women in the way that we have been told that it is? Or is she right, have we been sold a lie? Is it time to make a societal U-turn and re-enchant sex once again?  

Listen to our episode of Re-enchanting… Sex with Louise Perry and come to your own conclusions. Whether you agree or disagree with what she says (or, as in my case, a little of both), you’ll be mightily glad that you did.  

Snippet
Culture
Film & TV
Leading
3 min read

Who’s the real hero in the Lion King prequel?

Mufasa’s tale is a lesson in leadership.

Mica Gray is a wellbeing practitioner working in adult mental health. She is training to be a counselling psychologist.

Life-like animated lions and a monkey walk towards the viewer.
Disney.

The new Disney film Mufasa: The Lion King provides a prequel to the beloved The Lion King. Aside from offering viewers nostalgia, catchy songs about brotherhood, and dynamic visuals, the film also offers an intriguing exploration of leadership that by the end of the movie leaves you asking: who is the real hero?

In the movie, the young lion Taka is born into power. He is the son of the leader of the pride and is repeatedly referred to as "the next in line for the throne." In contrast, Mufasa is a stray that the pride takes in after Taka saves him from being eaten by crocodiles. He does not have any "royal blood" or status within the pride, and his role is nothing more than to serve Taka.

In a pivotal scene of the movie, Mufasa and Taka’s mother are ambushed, and Mufasa fights to protect her while Taka sees the ambush and runs away to protect himself. Viewers watching have asked "why" the two responded the way they did. Was Taka simply inexperienced, or was his decision driven by fear and an instinct for self-preservation? Did Mufasa’s actions stem from natural bravery, or from a deeper sense of responsibility and selflessness?

The apparent innate difference between the two lions is captured in the first song they sing together. As they regard the birds in the trees, Taka sings, "When I’m King they will do as they’re told," and Mufasa replies, "You may look down on them, but they are free, and where they go cannot be controlled." Here we see the first seeds of Taka’s desire for power and control and Mufasa’s contrasting respect for the other animals around him.

However, the movie also highlights how the differences may not be innate but due to differences in how they are nurtured. After Taka runs away from the ambush, we see his father teach him that no one can ever know that he did so—he teaches him that being a leader means performing strength rather than embodying it and hiding weakness rather than growing through vulnerability. In contrast, Mufasa is raised by Taka’s mother, who is more nurturing and encouraging in response to weakness. In addition, Taka’s father shows favouritism towards Taka and resentment towards Mufasa, which he internalizes, causing him to develop an image of himself as inferior. It comes as a shock to both lions—and some viewers—when in the end, the pride-lands adopt Mufasa as their leader instead of Taka.

Mufasa reminds us that leadership is not about ruling over others but about inspiring those around us to rise.

Some might  consider Taka to be the real "hero" because he was owed kingship by blood and saved Mufasa’s life multiple times during the movie. While this is true, Mufasa demonstrates the character of leadership by seeking to protect the lives of the collective throughout the movie.

Regardless of whether that difference arose from nature or nurture, that distinction highlights to me who the real hero is. Taka’s heroic acts throughout most of the movie seemed to be about protecting his own interests, whereas Mufasa’s seemed to be genuinely about the welfare of others. Of course, there are elements of Mufasa being motivated by self-interest too—especially towards the end of the movie—but his strength lies in his ability to connect his needs to the needs of the collective. In most of the situations where he "saved" others, he did so by fighting alongside them and encouraging them to fight for themselves. He recognized that success requires the collaborative effort of the group and the bringing together of everyone’s unique gifts.

Mufasa reminds us that leadership is not about ruling over others but about inspiring those around us to rise. And perhaps, this is also what makes a true hero—not just strength or status, but the willingness to uplift others, to act with courage even when afraid, and to put the needs of the many before oneself. It reminds us that the greatest heroes are not the ones who seek power, but the ones who earn it by serving those around them.

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