Edith Stein, and what is "woman"
Stein suggests a continuous construction and deconstruction and reconstruction of the concept “woman.”
In January, I used the Jennifer Fulwiler generator to identify a word of the year and a saint of the year. I got “indulge” and St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein). So I decided to indulge myself by making my 2024 the year of Edith Stein, the year in which I will read all of her collected works. On Holy Saturday I finished her autobiography, Life in a Jewish Family. And I recently finished the second volume, Woman.
Woman is a collection of essays and lectures completed between 1928 and 1932. These were the years following Stein’s conversion to Catholicism, with teaching and lecturing, often for associations of Catholic academics or Catholic women educators. Stein was a rising star among German intellectuals. Freda Mary Oben, the English translator of Woman, writes that Stein “became the intellectual leader of the Association of Catholic Women Teachers.” Stein did this until she was forced out of her teaching position by the Nazi government in 1933, and shortly after she became a Discalced Carmelite nun.
Woman surprised me. In these essays and lectures, Stein explores the nature of woman and femininity, the formation and education of girls, the role of women in society, and the role of educators. As with Life in a Jewish Family, the text feels timely and relevant today, even though its words were first delivered almost a century ago. She cuts across common Catholic divides today, both validating stereotypes about men and women and also challenging them, both looking at woman as a “species” who is impelled towards a particular type of humanity and also insisting that woman at the individual level should be given space to work outside of the confines of a type.
I’ll outline below some interesting ideas and passages from the book. What I share below is not necessarily an endorsement of Stein’s views as such. But I do endorse that these views are worthy of consideration and engagement, and so I will accompany some of them with my own questions and considerations.
You haven’t slept with enough people to be a Saint Augustine
In her introduction to Woman, Oben emphasizes the need for “harmony” and “balance” in the education of woman. Oben writes, “In these essays, Stein teaches the woman how to be a balanced and fulfilled person in today’s world.” Oben further writes:
“A balanced development of one faculty is a favorable precondition for a corresponding development of other faculties. The equilibrium of all faculties advances the development of the single faculty… An unbalanced development of personality may come about through a one-sided development of faculties and even by the absence of the means for proper development; this situation leads inevitably to conflicts or defects in religious attitude.”
I laughed out loud when I read this. I’m grateful to have read Stein’s autobiography shortly before Woman, partly because Stein’s actual life provides a counterbalance to some of these theoretical views. Stein’s childhood and adolescence (into her twenties) do not suggest balance. In Life in a Jewish Family, Stein writes that the “constant exertion of all my powers gave me an exhilarating feeling of living a very full life,” such that she saw herself vainly as “a richly endowed and highly privileged creature.” She recounts at one point how she “‘clung to life’ so little” because of her intellectual preoccupations. In her early twenties she writes about her “long hours of work, the little sleep, the indifference about my meals, and the lack of recreation.” This was so extreme that a friend, concerned about Stein not eating, got Stein to agree to go to meals with her.
Stein may have found “balance” later in life. But “balance” was not what made Stein into a great saint and intellectual. The ideal formation for girls presented by Oben’s introduction may produce a “balanced” woman, but it may not necessarily produce an Edith Stein. If you want to be an Edith Stein, you might be better off spending an “unhealthy” amount of time in the library, annoying your family by your neglect of them at times because of your intellectual preoccupations, and having friends who force you to get dinners with them because you don’t do a good job of making sure that you eat (again, because you are so preoccupied by your intellectual life).
In general, I find it helpful to read the ideals of Catholic thinkers against the actual lives of great Catholics. Sometimes when I hear people wanting to emulate, for example, Saint Augustine, I think, “You haven’t slept with enough people to be a Saint Augustine.” The personal histories of great saints were an extremely important part of what made them into who they would become. Augustine the saint could not have been been produced without Augustine the sinner. And Edith Stein the great teacher, thinker, writer, philosopher, nurse, and saint could not have been produced without the remarkably unbalanced child and adolescent Edith Stein. We can offer a critique of some of Stein’s theoretical positions with… Edith Stein herself.
This helps to demonstrate the Church’s need for saints. Real lives tend to challenge our conceptual views (which Stein herself will acknowledge). And the Church needs all her saints, but not every saint is for everyone. We are offered the saints in all of their individuality, because we are each in possession of our own individuality and thus can find guides and helpers best suited to our unique histories and callings.
On the “subordination” of woman
Edith Stein makes a number arguments regarding the “subordination and obedience” of women to men. To the chagrin of many readers today (including myself), Stein endorses such subordination. But she brings her own nuances to the idea. In her 1930 essay “The Ethos of Women’s Professions,” Stein writes that “the duty of obedience” of wife to husband “is probably derived less from the feminine individuality than from the natural vocation of man as guide and protector of his wife.” This suggests that the “subordination” of woman does not manifest from woman’s own being, but from a responsibility on the part of man. This subordination arises out of man’s living out his natural vocation as guide and protector. To the extent man fails to do so, I would argue, the “subordination” which Stein discusses fails to manifest itself as a reasonable expectation or true reality.
Likewise, in her 1932 essay “Problems of Women’s Education,” Stein writes that the subordination of woman to man does not mean she is created for a servile position. She writes of the belief that woman was created for man’s sake (as his “helpmate”):
“It does not seem to me that this means that woman was created only for the sake of man; for every creature has its own meaning… Nor do I understand that woman is denigrated by having been created ‘for man’s sake unless it is misunderstood as it very well could be after the degeneracy of both sexes as a result of the Fall, i.e., that she is to serve man’s own ends and satisfy his lust. That was not intended for the companion standing side by side with him over all other creatures. Rather, by her free, personal decision to be his helpmate, she enables him to become what he is intended to be.”
For Stein, woman cannot be forced into the position of “helpmate” to man. This must come from her own personal and free decision. And even when she takes on this role, it does not mean this is her only role, or that this role is without limits. A man who forces a woman into this role against her will, or who reduces a woman to only this role, denigrates both of the sexes and acts against the nature and vocation of both man and woman.
In her 1931 lecture, “The Separate Vocations of Man and Woman According to Nature and Grace,” Stein discusses the reasoning behind “subordination.” She writes: “the leadership in this community of life is proper to the man as the one who was created first.” And in “Problems of Women’s Education,” she discusses what “St. Thomas means when he calls man the principle and end of woman.” A thing follows from its principle, she argues, and because woman was made from man, it suggests that man is the principle of woman and should be followed by him. For Stein, the relationship of subordination of woman to man arises from the order of creation, and also from the story of woman having been made from man’s rib.
Here, one might push on Stein with with a further examination of Genesis. In the creation story, that which is most perfect seems to come last. And one can see this in creation itself. God creates the light and the dark, the land and the sea, and all sorts of creatures, before he creates man. Man, created from dust, comes last in creation. But this order does not mean man is subordinated to other creatures. Rather, man is explicitly given dominion over them. And Genesis also tells that man (male) was not perfect when he was created on his own. Rather, he needed another. So God created woman, and then creation was finally complete. All of this might suggest that woman is established as the highest and most perfect being. Or we can argue that things created first, and from which other things were created, are higher in the order of creation and are entitled obedience, in which case man might be subordinate to dust.
Stein argues that this subordination of woman to man was not part of the Edenic state, but was a result of The Fall. Man may have been “preeminent” as created first, but woman was not “subordinate.” Stein writes:
“Originally, man and woman were both made responsible to preserve their own likeness to God, their lordship over the earth, and the reproduction of the human race. The preeminent position of the man, which seems to be implied by the fact that he was created first, is not explained in greater depth [in Genesis]. After their Fall, the relationship between them is transformed from a pure partnership of love to a relationship of sovereignty and subordination and is distorted by concupiscence.”
Stein does not go on to argue that the work of the Church will re-establish the partnership of equality between the sexes and do away with relationships of subordination between men and women, and one is left wondering why. But she does argue that life in heaven will do away with this subordination.
The Reformation and woman’s role
Stein connects the disapproval of working women with the Reformation. She writes, “It was the Reformation which actually first recognized the value of family life in its rejection of virginity as an ideal.” She argues that the Reformation had “closed the convents and repudiated the ideal of virginity,” and what followed was “the activities of women were restricted to family and home, and their value was measured in terms of marriage and maternity alone. The Reformation deprived women of many rich fields of activity and robbed them of appropriate educational institutions.”
From the Reformation until a few decades before her time, Stein argues, women were driven into family life as their only legitimate calling. This resulted in, as Stein put it, “a multitude of thoughtless people satisfied with hackneyed expressions concerning the weaker sex or even the fair sex.” She connects a “romantic view” of women with a “brutal attitude” towards women, with woman shielded “as much as they could from the hard facts of life” and “being confined to housework and to family,” treating woman “merely from the biological point of view” and failing to consider her spiritual nature. Stein walks a line between radical feminists and anti-feminists at the time, looking at woman as possessing her own nature while also acknowledging deeper and complex realities which would not tie her down solely into what her physical body might provide for producing and rearing children. Stein has harsh words especially for those who would treat woman “as a grotesque, petty, middle-class, half-witted caricature of the Old Testament view.”
Though she argues that the early feminist movement was “especially not Catholic,” Stein opens the door for a meeting of feminism and Catholicism. She looks to the Catholic Women’s Movement at the time and the interdenominational movement for educating women, insisting with Newman that Catholicism can and does and must change:
“I already mentioned that a Catholic feminist movement was thought to be impossible when the interdenominational movement went into action. The concept which assumes that everything in the Church is irrevocably set for all times appears to me to be a false one. It would be naive to disregard that the Church has a history; the Church is a human institution and like all things human, was destined to change and to evolve… The Church as the kingdom of God in this world should reflect changes in human thought. Only by accepting each age as it is and treating it according to its singular nature can the Church bring eternal truth and life to temporality.”
So Stein argues for change in the Church, and she argues for social change. Stein argues that men and women should be admitted into any profession (except for the priesthood).
She writes,
“Should certain positions be reserved for only men, others for only women, and perhaps a few open for both? I believe that this question also must be answered negatively. The strong individual differences existing within both sexes must be taken into account. Many women have masculine characteristics just as many men share feminine ones. Consequently, every so-called ‘masculine’ occupation may be exercised by many women as well as many ‘feminine’ occupations by certain men.
“It seems right, therefore, that no legal barriers of any kind should exist. Rather, one can hope that a natural choice of vocation may be made thanks to an upbringing, education, and guidance in harmony with the individual’s nature.”
The ongoing development and perfection of society should involve, then, an increasing involvement in and influence on all parts by women.
Masculinity and femininity
Here we also see how Stein’s views contrast with the concerns many Catholics today raise about “masculine identity” or “feminine identity.” Her concepts of “masculinity” and “femininity” can be contrasted with those promoted by many today. Some Catholics (such as my own college theology professor) take “masculine” to be that which emanates uniquely from man and “feminine” to be that which emanates uniquely from woman. Others (such as Bob Schuchts, Christopher West, and Jason Evert) insist on the centrality of “masculine identity” or “feminine identity,” whereby a man or woman flourishes to the extent to which they fully embrace such an identity. Stein moves in a different direction.
This can be seen in brief comments she makes at various points. For example, she writes in “Fundamental Principles of Women’s Education” in 1930: “Extensive individual differences [in women] shall not be denied; in many instances, women indicate predominantly masculine traits.” And in “Problems of Women’s Education” she writes, “women may closely approximate the masculine type and conversely. This may be connected to their individual vocation.”
For Stein, “masculinity” and “femininity” seem to be concepts which arise from the fact that humanity was created as man and woman, each with a bodily nature and roles to which each tend to be suited. But these are not entirely fixed. Stein considers man and woman at three levels: as a member of the “species” humanity, as a member of the “species” man or woman, and as individual. What we can understand about man and woman, about masculinity and femininity, is important. And these can help us arrive at generalizations and ways to generally treat and educate men and women. But she insists that we must not forget that each person is an individual, and a person’s individuality might cut against these generalizations. This is partly why, for Stein, masculinity is not limited to men, nor femininity to women. And Stein does not only reject such a limitation as a response to the realities of a fallen world, but as a matter of individual vocation.
And this is partly why, in discussing the proper education of girls, Stein insists that care must be made in bringing about “a combination of an authentic humanity and womanhood with an unspoiled individuality.” It is important for girls to be formed in a way that respects the tendencies of the female “species”, while also ensuring appropriate space for each girl’s individuality which may or may not conform to or thrive within those tendencies.
Stein’s claim that a woman may approximate a masculine type and that this may be connected to her individual vocation runs in opposition to the view that a woman must fully identify with and embrace her “feminine identity” in order to flourish. In contrast Stein argues that, for some women, embracing various forms of “masculinity” may be a key to understanding her individual nature and pursuing her vocation.
The necessity of women in the workplace
Nonetheless, men and women as groups offer unique benefits to society, and this should impact the ways in which men and women bring their influence into society. For Edith Stein, those who say women are not capable of professional vocations are being ridiculous. In “The Ethos of Women’s Professions,” Stein writes:
“Only subjective delusion could deny that women are capable of practicing vocations other than that of spouse and mother. The experience of the last decades and, for that matter, the experience of all times has demonstrated this. One could say that in case of need, every normal and healthy woman is able to hold a position. And there is no profession which cannot be practiced by a woman… Indeed, no woman is only woman; like a man, each has her individual specialty and talent, and this talent gives her the capacity of doing professional work, be it artistic, scientific, technical, etc. Essentially, the individual talent can enable her to embark on any discipline, even those remote from the usual feminine vocations. In such instances, one would not speak of a feminine profession. In using the term ‘feminine profession’ significantly, it can only denote those objective tasks assigned by the feminine nature.”
In the mid-19th century, the first wave of feminism sough equality between men and women in various spheres of society. The success of this and affiliated movements came partly in female suffrage, which was achieved in Germany in 1918 (when Stein was in her mid-twenties). Stein herself faced significant challenges as a woman both in her study of philosophy and as a nurse during World War I. She had to face men who would take advantage of female students, an inappropriate advance from her own medical superior, and the challenges of having to pioneer philosophy and academia as a woman. She recounts at least one professor, Richard Weissenfels, who had never admitted women to his seminars. Stein was part of a transformational period for Weissenfels. She writes in Life of a Jewish Family:
"Like his brother-in-law Roethe in Berlin, he was an opponent of academic study for women and had, heretofore, never admitted women to his seminars. However, I was one of those to witness his 'conversion.' At the beginning of that particular semester when distributing the keys to his seminar room... he declared publicly that henceforth he would admit women to the higher level of his seminar, adding that they had earned it by their diligence and their excellent achievements."
It was not taken for granted that women could engage in various forms of philosophical work. The opposite had been true. But society changed as doors opened for women and both men and women began to realize how wrong they had been.
For Stein, the admission of women into various forms of professional life was not only a matter of justice. It was also a matter of allowing those professions to fully flourish. She argued that men and women had key differences. As a general matter, men focused on “the abstract” while women focused on “the concrete.” Separating these hinders society. Stein writes, “Everything abstract is ultimately part of the concrete. Everything inanimate finally serves the living.” The failure to bring women into the professions would allow the professions to be myopic, would inhibit them from full humanization, from bringing all of the benefits of the concrete feminine perspective. Stein gives the example of juridical work, where having exclusively men would mean failing to sufficiently take into account “the concrete circumstances” impacted by the law. It is necessary for women to enter the professions. Stein writes, “Thus the participation of women in the most diverse professional disciplines could be a blessing for the entire society.”
The broad strokes
Stein makes a number of broad claims about women. I won’t list them all here. For today’s reader, many of them will likely read as caricatures or confining generalizations or antiquated. It’s worth keeping in mind that Stein was both a product of her time and also a proponent of change. She cannot fully escape the biases of her world, although it is evident from her work that she sought an increasing awareness of these biases and continually considered whether they cohered with her experiences as a woman and her beliefs as a Catholic and a philosopher.
In particular, we should keep in mind her insistence on caring for individuality. She includes in her introduction to “Problems of Women’s Education”:
“[W]e are speaking of the position of woman as a general concept. However, within this concept there is such a great diversity of types and individuals that we can hardly speak of a situation common to all of them.”
An exercise suggested by much of Stein’s work is a continuous deconstruction and reconstruction of the concept “woman.” She takes it for granted that woman exists, and that she may be distinguished from man. And general claims can be made about woman. But those claims will always have a value limited by the diversity of actual women.
She runs up against an issue that is common for apologists of the concept of “woman” or “femininity” (as distinguished from “man” or “masculinity”). Many apologists seem to believe that, if we cannot pin down precise differences that are always true in every situation, then we cannot claim that men and women are distinct groups. This might be implied, for example, in Abigail Favale’s The Genesis of Gender, much of which hinges on her explicit search for "some distinguishing feature that all women have and all men do not, and vice versa” and lands her at gamete production. This, Favale argues, is what makes a man a man or a woman a woman.
But in coming to the reality of woman as woman, Stein makes no mention of gametes. For Stein, it is enough simply that God created “male and female,” that men and women have particular vocations, and that men and women have certain tendencies (that are subordinated to individuality). Stein does write that “woman in soul and body is formed for a particular purpose,” that “woman is destined to be wife and mother,” and that this is her “natural vocation” (in “The Ethos of Women’s Professions”). But immediately after these claims, she says, “Only a subjective delusion could deny that women are capable of practicing vocations other than that of spouse and mother.” Again, as soon as she makes her broad claim about woman, she cuts against it. But this doesn’t seem to destabilize the concept of woman for Stein. Rather, it reinforces the human vocation and the individual vocation of each woman, alongside her feminine vocation.
All of this suggests that woman is an evolving creature with an evolving concept, which would cohere with Stein’s view of the Church which is “destined to change and evolve.” Woman exists, and she has a nature and callings. And woman has generalities as a group that, in the conceptual world of Stein, have real value even if they are not universal truths (in the sense of being true in the same way in every case).
So perhaps one contribution Stein offers to this discussion is establishing a concept that continuously constructs and then deconstructs and then reconstructs itself. We must be cautious when relying on universal claims or hard lines because the mystery of the human person tends to push against these, just as Stein’s alleged emphasis on a “balanced” upbringing for girls cuts against the reality of her own upbringing. We can make a claim about “woman,” but must immediately subject this claim to the individuality of each woman. All of this suggests that “vocation” may be more central to woman than “nature.” But “vocation” is a messier concept, and so we might prefer to avoid it.
