We needed Jezebel. Men drove it into the ground.
Jezebel was more than a news site; it was a lifeline. As a transgender woman navigating the intricacies of identity, feminism, and societal acceptance, I often felt adrift in an ocean of misunderstanding and isolation. Jezebel, with its unflinching feminist perspective, offered me a compass.
I remember the first article I stumbled on. It discussed transgender rights with a depth and empathy rarely seen in mainstream media. Each word resonated with me, resonating with my experiences and struggles. Jezebel wasn’t only reporting on issues pertinent to women but carving out space for what it meant to be a woman in a modern, complex world. It was a window into a community where I finally felt a sense of belonging.
Throughout my twenties, reading Jezebel became a daily ritual. It was where I found the courage to embrace my identity fully. The stories of women from all walks of life, the discussions around gender norms, and the celebration of achievements — all these elements coalesced into a powerful narrative that shaped my understanding of politics, feminism and my place within it.
The site’s demise is personal. It feels like losing a mentor and a friend. Jezebel was a platform where the voices of women, including transgender women like myself, were not only heard but amplified. It fostered a sense of solidarity and strength, reminding us that our struggles and triumphs were part of a larger collective journey towards equality and understanding.
The closure of Jezebel is more than a loss for feminist journalism; it’s a reflection of a more significant issue where male-dominated leadership in media fails to recognise or value the perspectives and interests of half the population.
In an almost theatrical display of irony, under the umbrella of G/O Media and led by CEO Jim Spanfeller, male executives and owners ran Jezebel into the ground and ultimately sealed its fate, citing — of all things — a misalignment with the business model.
I can’t argue the intricacies of Jezebel’s financial model or its sustainability. But the essence of Jezebel’s potential lay in its ability to tap into the pulse of a generation of readers who were not passive consumers, they were active participants in a cultural shift. These readers were ready to invest in a platform that provided content and represented a cause and a set of values they held dear.
The inability of Jezebel’s leadership to leverage this position is a disaster in both a business sense and in a cultural and social context. When consumer behaviour is increasingly driven by alignment with personal beliefs and values, Jezebel had already done the hard part: it had built a loyal following grounded in trust and shared ideology.
A vision was needed to translate this into a sustainable business model — be it through innovative subscription models, targeted advertising, partnerships, or other revenue streams that resonate with a socially conscious audience.
The failure to find a sustainable model is at odds with the cultural and commercial triumphs of Taylor Swift, whose music has become an anthem for young women navigating the complexities of modern life, and the Barbie Movie, a film that shattered expectations and box office records by reimagining a traditionally gender-stereotyped icon as an empowerment symbol. Both unequivocally demonstrate the public’s hunger for content that resonates with and celebrates women’s experiences.
The disconnect points to a deeper, more systemic problem in how media companies are run and who runs them. The decision to shut down Jezebel stresses a prevalent issue in the media industry, where decisions about content that profoundly impacts women are often made without our representation at the decision-making table. It highlights the need for more inclusive media leadership that truly reflects and understands the audience it serves.
The lesson from Jezebel’s closure, juxtaposed against the backdrop of Swift’s and the Barbie Movie’s success, is clear: a significant audience is eager for content that speaks to and about women, their experiences, and their perspectives. This audience is not a niche market. It’s a dynamic and influential demographic that demands recognition. The failure of Jezebel’s male leadership to recognise this undermines the principles of diversity and representation and represents a missed commercial opportunity.
Jezebel was a beacon for those of us who felt marginalised, a reminder that our stories mattered and our voices could be heard. It leaves a void in feminist media and in the hearts of its readers who found Jezebel a source of inspiration, empowerment, and community.
When women’s voices are increasingly shaping the cultural, political, and economic narratives, the closure of Jezebel is a step backwards. It should be a reminder of the need for greater diversity in media leadership to ensure that platforms championing women’s voices are created, sustained, and valued. The audience is waiting and willing. The question is, will the leaders in the media listen?
