Bleeding Money
A not so fun fact: the worldwide market for menstrual products is estimated at $26 billion USD. While there have been hugely important advances in public discussion surrounding period poverty, stigma, pain management, etc. there has been little discussion of the underlying root cause of many of these issues: capitalism. This blog will explore the complex ways capitalism is actively shaping the period product market, period poverty, and, ultimately, the way we menstruate.
Menstruation has become a profitable, consumer event. Ironically, a free and renewable material has been commodified by a handful of companies who not only profit off the continuous branding and selling of (mostly) single-use period products, but also carry a uniquely powerful ability to shape the narratives and perceptions surrounding menstruation. Lawyer Bridget Crawford (2022) coined the term “menstrual capitalism” to refer to this overarching framework and emphasizes focus on corporations like Proctor & Gamble (P&G), which has a 50% share in the US market and 25% in the global market. However, the way these processes unfold is different in advanced capitalist societies and still developing countries.
First, in most Western capitalist societies, we see a new, overlooked strand of “woke-washing” being applied to the menstrual market. Corporations are purposefully engaging in advertising and branding that emphasizes feminist empowerment and progressive movements in an explicit effort to increase their profits, without accompanying real efforts for change. Professor Victoria Haneman (2021) referred to this as the “menstruation industrial complex” and emphasizes the complicated interaction between profit motivations and the history of stigma and shame around menstruation which helps drive this forward. Specifically, these corporations are capitalizing on the stigma surrounding menstruation as well as the social movements that have worked from the ground up to combat the shame, in an insincere tactic to grow their companies. A good example of this can be seen in the Always “Like a Girl” ad campaigns that depicted adults who responded to the prompt “run like a girl” with silly, arm-flapping leaps and young girls who responded to the prompt by stating “it means to run as fast you can”. More recently, Always has removed the historically feminine Venus symbol from their pad packaging in an effort to make it less gendered.
The second way capitalism’s power manifests in these countries is in the continuous development of new, tech-driven, period products to create a perceived need when there was none before. This is seen in the flurry of “smart” menstrual cups and pads, period subscription boxes, and Bluetooth tampons that have been introduced in recent years. My.Flow, for example, is a “smart” tampon that uses Bluetooth technology to alert the user when a tampon is saturated. While in some cases these products have come with health and safety concerns, there are also questions over privacy and data, and how these companies are capitalizing off users’ information. More broadly, these developments reflect the reality of a capitalist market that needs to see constant growth in order to survive, disregarding environmental concerns for one, but also – do we really need Bluetooth tampons?
However, in developing countries menstrual capitalism unfolds differently, and has a particular effect on the period poverty suffered in many of these countries. These same Western corporations have actively positioned themselves as main combatants of period poverty, frequently running campaigns and donating period products. But the question lies, again, in if this is simply another form to increase their market shares. Many point to the fact that these donations are another means of woke washing and a way to imbue brand loyalty, both in Western countries and in the disenfranchised countries they are donating to. Further, various instances have underlined a lack of authenticity in their efforts. P&G infamously came under fire in the #MyAlwaysExperience scandal, where donated pads in Kenya and Pakistan were of a lesser quality than those sold in Western countries, and actually caused rashes and burns. Instances like these point to the performative quality of these companies that suggest their ultimate goal is not to truly help marginalized communities, but rather to build their brand and revenue.
This is further exacerbated by a focus on menstrual products as the end-all-be-all solution for period poverty, without accompanying efforts towards sex education, or menstrual pain and stigma management. This was explored by Arora in a 2017 case study that revealed how advertising and branding by Whisper and Stayfree (P&G subsidiaries) were focused first and foremost on preventing leaking, to uphold the honour and respectability of the people menstruating in a stigma-ridden community. Their ads did not show any red blood and centred on girls speaking of how they felt more “confident”. Again, we see P&G capitalizing on stigma, and presenting their products as the only good solution to leakage. As a result, they reproduce this stigmatization of menstrual blood as dirty and offensive in younger generations.
It’s difficult to differentiate what exactly counts as real efforts towards social change, especially when corporations’ performative acts can still be part of moving social discourse forward – removal of the Venus symbol is a meaningful, tangible change that leads to greater inclusion. But looking at it in a broader context of the companies’ actions in countries like Kenya or Pakistan, it becomes harder to grapple with. Why are corporations playing this role in the first place? Even if they are making real efforts, does it make a difference? Aren’t they structurally benefitting from the system that purports period poverty and broader inequality in the first place?
Recently, there have been some moves to shift menstruation away from the mercy of market forces. Such is seen in the case of Scotland and Kenya, which have made period products free and distributed them widely across universities, prisons, public restrooms, etc. Through this trailblazing move, governments secure people’s accessibility to period products and also remove their dependency on corporations that capitalize on progressive sentimentalities to profit off a necessity. If more governments would be willing to de-commodify menstruation, and thus make a huge leap towards abolishing period poverty, the long-term sustainability of these corporations then becomes questionable.
Reusable menstrual products that ironically came as a result of market expansion also remove some reliance on corporations and have opened the door for smaller, local businesses (forgive the shameless plug, but check out Sanitree’s reusable pads!). These are also, not coincidentally, more sustainable and environmentally friendly. Ultimately, how people manage their menstruation is a personal choice, but it would not hurt to see the options available and the narratives around them be less dependent on the profit-seeking interests of a few corporations.
Sources:
Haneman, V. (2021) ‘Menstrual Capitalism, Period Poverty, and the Role of the B Corporation’, Columbia Journal of Gender and Law, 41(1), pp. 133-145.
Crawford, B. and Waldman, E. (2022) ‘Menstrual Capitalism’, in Crawford, B. and Waldman, E. (eds) Menstruation Matters. New York: New York University Press, pp. 172-187.
Røstvik, C. (2022) ‘Introduction: Bloody Money – the menstrual product industry in late capitalism’, in Røstvik, C. (eds) Cash Flow. London: UCL Press, pp. 1-34.
Arora, N. (2017) ‘Menstruation in India: Ideology, politics, and capitalism’, Asian Journal of Women’s Studies, 23(4), pp. 528-537.
Røstvik, C. (2020) Menstrual capitalism: a lot of people profit from your monthly menstruation. Available at: https://sciencenorway.no/gender-health-reproductive-health/menstrual-capitalism-a-lot-of-people-profit-from-your-monthly-menstruation/1753163 (Accessed 1 December 2022).
