And yet a disturbing pattern quickly emerged.
A year after graduating from Tulane, one woman was working in public relations — as were most of her college girlfriends, all of whom earned around $30,000 a year. But their boyfriends — who graduated the same year from the same college — went into finance and were already making more than $150,000 a year. The women didn’t seem distressed by that pay gap, but they had no real explanation for why they weren’t concerned. When the truth emerged during in-depth interviews, they had a hard time admitting it — even to themselves.
The reality was inescapable: whether consciously or subconsciously, these young women simply assumed they wouldn’t be fully responsible for their future standard of living. Surely a high-earning spouse would eventually make up the gap between the lifestyle they envisioned, and their own lesser salary at a fun job.
The most obvious problem with this assumption is the fact that women can’t always count on having a husband to support them. Marriage rates in this country have hit a record low and are expected to keep declining; for the first time in American history, the majority of adults are not married. One study reported that a quarter of all millennials are likely to skip marriage entirely. As a result, women are increasingly on their own — a trend exacerbated by the prevalence of divorce, lengthening lifespans, and greater longevity among women than men. At some point in their lives, 80 to 90 percent of today’s women will be responsible for their own finances. And yet many fail to anticipate that reality — which is one reason why twice as many women fall below the poverty line in their later years, compared with men. Women consistently earn less and have more gaps in their work history, so it’s easy to foresee the economic challenges they’re likely to face as they get older.
Nearly a decade ago, my first encounter with their resistance blindsided me with its ferocity, as well as its unexpectedness. In 2007, I published a book called The Feminine Mistake: Are We Giving Up Too Much?, which was inspired by the so-called opting-out movement. As a growing percentage of women dropped out of the workforce to become stay-at-home moms, the media glorified their decisions as happy lifestyle choices that resolved the stress of juggling work and family. Unfortunately, the press coverage of this trend failed to report how damaging its consequences were likely to be. My book documented the long-term risks of economic dependency, which I saw as a helpful corrective to the unrealistic expectations of cozy security fostered by the romanticization of stay-at-home motherhood.
But to my amazement, The Feminine Mistake was extremely controversial, igniting a firestorm of criticism before it was even published. There was no denying the facts, which prove that quitting the workforce is a serious risk that takes a lasting toll on women’s economic well-being. Despite that reality, many stay-at-home moms were infuriated by the seemingly obvious statement that it’s dangerous to depend on a man for support. I was stunned by the intensity of their anger, which manifested itself in everything from an online campaign against the book, to personal attacks on my marriage, and even my dog.
But it didn’t take long for a national catastrophe to underscore the truth of my warnings. The Feminine Mistake was published a year before the financial crisis plunged the country into a recession. Millions of people lost their jobs, and affluent suburbs were soon riddled with For Sale signs as formerly wealthy families tried to sell their homes. In the tough times that followed, many wives learned the hard way that it’s not safe for a family to rely on a single breadwinner. As time passed, I read all too many articles and blog posts with headlines like “Becoming a SAHM Was the Worst Mistake I Ever Made.” Because the financial crisis was so severe, I assumed it gave American women a persuasive lesson in the value of economic autonomy. But apparently, I was wrong.