Feminist ethics offers a powerful lens for rethinking justice, care, and equality. It challenges the traditional, often male-centered, approaches to morality by highlighting the lived experiences of women and other marginalized groups. One of its most transformative contributions is Kimberlé Crenshaw’s concept of intersectionality, which helps us understand how various forms of discrimination, such as racism, sexism, and classism, overlap and intensify oppression (Crenshaw, 1989). In my life as a Black African, heterosexual man from a humble background, intersectionality speaks directly to how my identity has been shaped and how society responds to it.
Intersectionality teaches us that discrimination is rarely one-dimensional. Crenshaw (2016) points out that Black women, for example, often face double discrimination based on both race and gender, a reality overlooked by traditional legal frameworks. Similarly, I believe that while we are born unequal in circumstances, we all have the potential to succeed, so long as our pursuit does not harm others. However, true equality requires honesty, not just the legal illusion of fairness. This belief is rooted in real-life experiences. Despite having a Ugandan mother and living in Uganda for over two decades, I was once denied a national ID simply because I was originally from Congo. This was a clear example of how one aspect of my identity overshadowed the rest, resulting in unjust treatment.
Discrimination is always unjust because it treats equals unequally. One striking global example of this was the murder of George Floyd in 2020. His death, under the knee of a police officer during the COVID-19 pandemic, sparked worldwide protests. It united people across races and continents in a shared cry for justice. Even in Uganda, we felt the impact of that tragedy. And yet, the lessons from that moment have not fully transformed our systems. Discrimination, in both its overt and subtle forms, still thrives. Reverse discrimination also deserves attention, it is still discrimination when fairness is compromised, regardless of the direction.
Crenshaw’s critique of traditional anti-discrimination laws is particularly relevant in employment practices. She explains that laws often treat race and gender as separate issues, failing to address the compound challenges faced by people who belong to multiple marginalized groups (Crenshaw, 1989). In Uganda, for instance, the Karimojong people suffer systemic neglect. Though they are Ugandans, they are discriminated against socially and economically. Children from Karamoja beg on Kampala’s streets while resources meant to help their communities are stolen by those in power. This is a clear intersection of tribalism, classism, and political exclusion. Policies must be reformed to ensure that they address the specific, intersecting barriers faced by such communities. Blanket solutions will not fix layered problems.
Feminist ethics also promotes the idea of relational autonomy, which challenges the conventional view that being independent means being isolated or self-reliant. Instead, it emphasizes how our choices and identities are formed in relation to others (Matthews & Hendricks, 2019). I see this in my own life. Who I am today is not simply a result of personal effort but also the influence of my family, my community, and even the discrimination I’ve faced. Ethical decision-making, then, must consider relationships and empathy, not just abstract rules.
Feminist ethics, especially through the lens of intersectionality, gives us a fuller, more human understanding of justice. It reminds us that oppression is complex, and solutions must be just as nuanced. We must look beyond surface categories and see people in the fullness of their identities. Only then can we build a society that truly reflects equality, care, and dignity for all.
