From Policy to Practice: Gender Equality in Arts and Culture Institutions

Cemre Baytok: Some of us have met before and have already discussed these issues, so rather than giving a lengthy introduction, I’d prefer that we move forward together. Let me just briefly sketch the context. The Association for Gender Equality Policies was founded in 2022 in response to a concrete need. Although the feminist movement in Turkey has made significant progress, gender equality in working life has often remained a secondary concern or has not received the attention it deserves.

More broadly, we see that gender issues are frequently pushed to the background by other dominant political and social agendas. In this context, institutions do not always consider seriously enough how gender equality can be ensured within their own structures. Even when initiatives are launched, they may remain unfinished or eventually disappear altogether.

Institutions such as municipalities and bar associations have developed a relatively sophisticated language around the services they provide externally. For example, they often define services for women in considerable detail and establish models of good practice in this area. However, when we look inside these institutions, the picture is much less clear. Across Turkey, many municipalities employ a high proportion of women, but what are these women’s working conditions compared to those of men? What is their situation in terms of job security, opportunities for promotion, caregiving rights, or access to support such as childcare facilities? These are questions that are rarely asked.

It was precisely this gap that prompted us to begin our work. We wanted to examine this area more closely and support institutions in developing a line of work focused on equality within their own organizational structures. For nearly five years now, we have been working largely on a voluntary basis. In Turkey, the proportion of women in secure, salaried employment remains quite low. Efforts toward gender equality have therefore often advanced in fields where women and LGBTQI+ people are more visible, particularly within civil society. Our aim, however, has been to extend this conversation across different sectors.

Universities have long been among the leading sites for this kind of work in Turkey. In recent years, alongside civil society organizations, professional associations and municipalities have also begun to take steps in this direction. In the arts sector, especially following the waves of public disclosures and testimonies that emerged last August, gender equality in working life has likewise become a much more visible issue.

In most cases, the process unfolds in a similar way: life goes on as usual until an incident occurs—for example, a case of harassment within an institution or collective. It is only after such an event that the institution begins to consider what to do and focuses on managing the crisis. Even when a policy document exists, it often has little practical effect in implementation; sometimes the documents themselves cannot even be located.

What we emphasize from the outset is this: our goal is not to establish a disciplinary tribunal. Rather, it is to build an egalitarian foundation within our institutions, working environments, and platforms. When such a foundation exists, and when an institution operates according to principles that are genuinely embraced and upheld, it becomes much more possible to address problems when they arise.

With that, perhaps we can move on to the Q&A.

Participant 1: Within our platform, we established a women+ commission. At the same time, we know that these kinds of incidents never disappear entirely and can re-emerge in different forms. When a problem arises and the person responsible is part of our own structure, we can follow certain procedures: speaking with them, managing the process, and, when necessary, removing them from the platform. However, the situation becomes more complicated once that person leaves our structure—for example, if they continue working at another arts institution where other members of the platform are also involved. How should we act in such cases? Cutting ties with that person may create difficulties for other members working within that institution. How can this balance be navigated?

CB: Yes, it’s certainly not a simple issue. In universities, for example, disciplinary sanctions used to become part of a person’s official record, meaning that if they applied to another institution, this information would also be communicated. Universities, however, operate under a separate legal framework.

Each case has to be assessed within its own context. The nature of the conduct in question matters, since not every action calls for the same response or sanction. Factors such as statutes of limitation, the context of the relationship, and the nature of the relationship itself are also important. The response taken within a group of friends is not the same as a decision made in a workplace. In some situations, ending a relationship with someone may itself be considered a sanction and may be deemed sufficient. Likewise, if someone has been removed from an institution due to sexual harassment and the process has been handled appropriately, it may be possible for them to return under certain conditions. However, if the process has been manipulated by the accused following the disclosure, then we cannot really speak of a process that was properly completed in the first place.

Whether the person’s new workplace should be informed is also something that must be evaluated on a case-by-case basis. If there are reasons to believe that the behavior is continuing, then informing the institution may of course be appropriate. However, this carries a serious responsibility and requires a carefully managed process.

What often makes these situations more difficult is the tendency to treat them as more complicated and intractable than they actually are. In our experience, one of the most common problems is that panic causes processes to drag on unnecessarily, while too many people become involved—often through informal or unhealthy channels. Anonymous disclosures on social media, information circulating in closed groups, or unclear forms of communication can end up complicating matters rather than resolving them. Establishing clearer mechanisms, where responsibility is assumed and the parties involved are known, tends to lead to healthier processes and healthier outcomes.

Participant 2: Could you share your observations about the situation in the arts and culture sector, particularly in the institutions you have advised or worked with since the wave of disclosures? How do publicly visible disclosures differ from processes that remain internal to institutions and never become public? There seems to be a particular uncertainty when a survivor does not want their statement to enter the public sphere. How should institutions respond in such situations, and how should these two scenarios be distinguished from one another?

CB: I would say that the arts and culture sector is generally more aware of these issues than many other sectors. By awareness, I mean both taking the issue seriously and believing that something can be done about it. There is greater recognition of the need for preventive policies, which is related to the sector’s broader political culture, the visibility of LGBTQI+ communities, and its proximity to feminist movements. That said, the problems themselves are not all that different from those encountered in other fields.

The issue of anonymous disclosures is particularly important here. The forms and methods of disclosure we see on social media today differ significantly from earlier examples and bring with them a number of challenges. Anonymity, unclear expectations, and fragmented flows of information can make it difficult to manage a process in a healthy way.

If a complaint concerns people who are connected to an institution through employment, contracts, education, or artistic production, it is often difficult for that complaint to remain anonymous. If an institutional process is to be carried out, a certain degree of transparency is necessary and all parties need to be heard. If, for example, a disclosure is made between two employees and one party requests confidentiality, anonymity can become a factor that limits the healthy functioning of the process. This is also reflected in legal procedures: when we file a complaint regarding a crime, we do so in our own name, although we can of course request confidentiality measures or other forms of protection when necessary.

There is also a fundamental ethical principle at stake: if a statement or disclosure is made concerning someone, responsibility for that statement must also be assumed. In most cases, institutions are unable to act on a completely anonymous allegation for which no one takes responsibility. For me, however, the critical question is why anonymity is being sought in the first place. Is it due to a lack of trust, hesitation, fear, or some other risk? Without understanding this, it is difficult to design an appropriate mechanism. For that reason, it should sometimes be possible to ask the person making the disclosure directly why they do not wish to speak openly. Their answer can help reveal where the risks lie. Depending on the situation, a process can be conducted while preserving confidentiality; suspension measures or other mechanisms may be activated; or the person may simply need encouragement and support. When institutions have more developed structures and procedures in place, trust tends to grow and these concerns can become easier to address.

Participant 3: I’d like to return to your point about the varying degrees of misconduct and the specificity of each case. In many situations, it can be difficult to access detailed information. When a disclosure is made, how many questions should be asked? How deeply should one investigate? How do you strike a balance between respecting the person making the disclosure and ensuring that the process is handled properly?

CB: Here we are constantly navigating between two risks: on the one hand, becoming overwhelmed by details; on the other, not obtaining enough information.

Too much detail can also cause a process to lose its focus. We are not trying to learn every aspect of a person’s life story. Our concern is whether an act constituting a violation of gender equality has taken place. For that reason, we deliberately keep the framework narrow and rely on legal definitions. We draw on categories defined in the Turkish Penal Code, such as sexual harassment, sexual assault, insult, threats, and discrimination. In other words, if our focus is an institutional mechanism within working life, we do not define broader and more ambiguous issues such as “toxic relationships,” “feeling hurt,” or “being ghosted” as matters that automatically fall within the scope of institutional sanctions. I’m simplifying somewhat, of course. This does not mean that such experiences are ignored, but they belong to a different category. In cases involving discriminatory behavior, unequal relationship dynamics, or repeated patterns of disrespect, for example, responses might include a written warning, establishing distance between the parties, or separating them within the workplace.

In our conversations, we try to build trust and confidentiality while also remaining attentive to the person in front of us. Sometimes this means saying something as simple as, “Please let me know if I ask a question that feels uncomfortable.” We need to understand what has happened without losing sight of the person’s well-being.

It is also important that sanctions be clearly defined within the institution and proportionate to the seriousness of the incident. In other words, there should be a clear understanding in advance of which actions correspond to which consequences. We build these frameworks by drawing on the definitions developed by women’s organizations, international conventions, and legal regulations. When such structures are in place, there is less need to spend hours listening to every detail of a story or becoming absorbed in its particulars. The key question is where the reported conduct fits within that framework and what mechanisms are available to address it.

Another critical point is the one I mentioned earlier: when the issue is primarily a matter of a “bad relationship dynamic” or a “toxic relationship,” it may not always fall within the scope of institutional sanctions. Making this distinction clearly both simplifies the process and helps prevent new forms of harm from emerging.

Participant 4: I’d like to ask about situations that fall outside formal legal processes and remain on a more personal level. For example, encountering someone who has previously been the subject of a disclosure. Questions then arise about whether that person has changed over time, about one’s own sense of justice, and about when or whether contact can be re-established. And when such people reach out to you and seem open to change, how do you approach that process? Do you engage in a form of guidance, explanation, or accountability work?

CB: First, I think it’s important not to draw too sharp a distinction between what is “personal” and what is “legal.” Most of what I’ve been describing would not necessarily end up in court; we use legal frameworks primarily as points of reference.

If institutions had strong and trustworthy mechanisms in place, people would not feel compelled to turn to public disclosures so often. In that sense, disclosure is itself a consequence of this absence. Questions such as “Would I speak to this person again?” or “Would I forgive them?” cannot be answered in the abstract; everything depends on the specific context. At the same time, it is not helpful to respond to every piece of information we hear with an individual reaction and attempt to impose sanctions on that basis. That approach weakens the collective dimension of disclosure.

In the past, disclosure functioned more as a collective mechanism. Someone would share their experience, and the relevant institution would be approached with an expectation that it respond. If no action was taken, a group would then prepare a public statement, and any reactions would be addressed collectively. In other words, the process belonged to a shared field of responsibility. Today, however, these dynamics can shift into individualized confrontations on social media. As a result, the discussion becomes reduced to personal feelings such as forgiveness. But that is not really the point. The real question is how a process is addressed, within what kind of structure, and according to what framework of equality.

What matters in this approach is that the process always unfolds through a clearly identifiable interlocutor. That interlocutor may be an institution, a collective, or even a group of friends. But if a structure exists, it should be responsible for evaluating the situation and clearly communicating its conclusions.

I should also add that, from a feminist perspective, I do not engage directly with perpetrators. I do not think it is the responsibility of feminists to take charge of the post-disclosure processes of those who have been the subject of disclosures—who, in the overwhelming majority of cases, are men.

Participant 5: When someone has caused harm, what possibilities are there for them to reflect on their actions and try to understand the issue more deeply? Are there any institutions that work on this? Because excluding a few people does not, in itself, solve a broader social problem.

CB: As far as I know, there is no such institution. But if we think about men who have served prison sentences for crimes such as femicide, harassment, or violence, and then return to society, we can see that a similar gap exists there as well. Ideally, I think men should organize among themselves and engage collectively in processes of reflection, transformation, and consciousness-raising.

At the same time, the goal is not simply to exclude a few people. But we should not forget that one of the main reasons male violence has become normalized in this country is the widespread absence of meaningful consequences. By this I do not mean the harshest possible punishment. I mean the fair application of sanctions and ensuring that harmful actions do not go unanswered. In that sense, it is not insignificant when those three or five people are actually held accountable.

Participant 5: I’m not speaking here as a representative of an institution, but from a very personal perspective. I find it extremely difficult to embrace the idea of forgiving a man who has harassed a woman, engaged in stalking, or committed acts of violence. These are not momentary mistakes; they are often conscious choices. Yet the focus constantly returns to men: “What will happen to them? Will they be excluded? Will they be able to return to society?” and so on.

CB: What you’re describing is precisely patriarchy. The fact that attention continually shifts back to men, and that reflexive questions such as “What if it’s a false accusation?” or “What if he isn’t responsible?” keep resurfacing, is part of that dynamic. But I want to emphasize again that not every case is the same. Harassment, stalking, and sexual violence cannot all be treated as equivalent forms of conduct.

I do not see myself as part of men’s “learning process.” My focus is on creating mechanisms through which women’s disclosures can be addressed safely and fairly; mechanisms that allow a process to unfold without re-victimizing women and in a way that is both secure and just.

At times, we also encounter situations where a disclosure is made but the circumstances of the event cannot be clearly established. There may be inconsistencies in the woman’s account, or we may simply lack sufficient information. In such cases, it is important not to panic, but to state openly that the available information does not allow us to reach a conclusion. This does not mean that the person cannot receive support. Where necessary, they can be referred to appropriate support mechanisms. These situations are relatively rare, but they too need to be considered as part of the system.

Participant 6: Deciding to make a disclosure often requires a great deal of courage and involves a long personal process. But afterwards, there can be a feeling that the experience will permanently define how one is perceived by friends or within one’s social life. How can support mechanisms be built to address this?

CB: If someone has access to a collective support network, they do not have to carry that burden alone. Psychological support, legal support, and a trustworthy community can make a significant difference. For example, it can be extremely difficult for someone to go to a courthouse alone and give a statement, but when support is available through a bar association or another relevant institution, that burden becomes easier to bear.

At the same time, our social reflexes often involve magnifying what has happened, defining a person through their trauma, or entering into a cycle in which everyone shares and reproduces the pain. These responses are not empowering. On the contrary, they can fix a person in that experience. Someone should not be forced to place such an experience at the center of their life because of something for which they bear no responsibility.

This is precisely where support mechanisms become important. As people become stronger in other areas of their lives, the experience may remain part of their history, but it no longer becomes the defining center around which everything revolves. Empowerment does not mean that what happened disappears; it means that it no longer occupies the whole of one’s life. That is why it is important not only to suffer together, but also to grow stronger together.

Participant 7: We are all still learning, and many of these issues are only now becoming clearer to us. That also means there is a significant possibility of making mistakes. We may have taken the wrong position in a particular case or treated someone unfairly. There can also be a fear that admitting “we got this wrong” might weaken the feminist struggle. How should we approach situations like that?

CB: One of the most important things is to seek support and guidance from people and organizations working in this field. You still carry out the process yourselves, but consulting others at difficult decision points can reduce the likelihood of mistakes.

Even so, if a mistake has been made, it is necessary to confront it and engage in self-criticism. If the mistake is serious, there may well be consequences. But the most important thing is not to deny it. It is to be able to say openly: “We acted too hastily here,” “We made the wrong assessment,” or “We prolonged the process unnecessarily.”

That kind of openness does not weaken the struggle; on the contrary, it strengthens it. Making a problem visible and confronting it publicly demonstrates that a given space is genuinely open to transformation. In any case, the likelihood of error is often lower in collectives and grassroots platforms than in large institutional structures. The most fundamental principle is this: do not rush to definitive judgments without sufficient information. Consult others. Do not force the process forward too quickly. A fair and sustainable approach can only be built on that basis.