1. If today is Monday, March 9th, it means there's one year left until International Women's Day. I wonder how we'll get there in 2027 if, locally or globally, we continue to take so many steps backward at such a rapid pace. Equality—if it is true equality, it must be without nuances or footnotes—still seemed a long way off, and suddenly, regression is more than just a palpable threat. It's a stark, bitter, and daily realization that the gains we've made are in danger. The far-right wave sweeping the world and the fundamentalism common in religions rooted centuries ago are striving to subjugate women once again to limits that seemed to have been overcome. Irrelevance, dependence, complementarity transformed into inferiority, being told "don't say much" and "you have an opinion, but not much" are the new social condemnations. This is what Katherine Graham, the editor of the Washington PostWhen her husband made her feel, at all times, like she was the tail of a star. The nucleus of the comet that shone, of course, was him. Always him and only him.

That we are starting with artificial intelligence using biased algorithms is no secret. The dangers of using AI without regulation have been demonstrated and emphasized, whether for personal purposes, in a company or institution, or, even more alarmingly, for disseminating content on social media. Achieving ethical algorithms, aligned with democratic values ​​and incorporating a gender perspective, is an objective that is being pursued, especially in Europe. Women experts in this field are shedding light on a rapidly advancing technology that seems difficult to control and in which, as in the world of... big tech, There's a lack of women.

With another March 8th approaching, feminism is facing a disastrous situation. The movement is suffering setbacks worldwide, and according to the results of a survey published in this newspaper, 60% of men in Spain believe they are being discriminated against simply for being men. Data like this neither surprises us nor is it foreign to our society. Often, in the very articles I write each week, there are men who automatically feel... offended Just for using a feminine adjective. Even if the adjective could include me, a woman, it doesn't matter if we're talking about the beacon scam or living past 100. These are individuals, almost always anonymous, who cling to the tradition of thinking only of themselves. Nor to the tradition that women can be discriminated against. But woe betide them if a generic term doesn't make them feel included! (They are there, but they want to maintain their status. Besides, they shouldn't be everywhere, either.) These men are terrified of losing what they believe is their birthright. But these men's feelings are also tied to egocentrism and a deliberate desire to harm. Because, seeing the state of the world, they show not even the slightest empathy for verifiable facts and for a fundamental reason: demanding human rights is exhausting. We have other things to do in life. But we want a fairer life for everyone. And we want to use adjectives however we please.

“Everyone looked at me as if it were my fault, as if I had provoked it. They looked at me with horror, with disgust, with guilt, as if I were the worst person in the world. I felt panicked because I thought I had done something wrong, but I didn't understand what wrong I had done.” This is how Keilyn Andrea González, a young Honduran woman, explains how she felt after suffering sexual abuse at age 11. She forgot it, she blocked it out. It wasn't until many years later that the sexual violence resurfaced, and with it, the need for redress. A need she transformed into a public cry: “I wasn't to blame for what happened to me.”

They write to me, politely, inviting me to a special program on March 8th as a woman writer. "You'll be sharing the table with many powerful women writers like yourself," they tell me, because "powerful" is a term that goes with everything. To be powerful? How frightening. I feel powerless.

"As long as decisions continue to be made about our bodies, ignoring our health, underestimating our tasks and our criteria, undervaluing the physical and emotional cost of our motherhood, exercising violence against us with total impunity, we will occupy the streets without rest." This is how combative Antonia, forty years old and mother of a three-year-old, expressed herself this afternoon. She has attended the 8-M demonstration accompanied by her family. She assures that she has not missed a single one. This year, the threat of rain in Barcelona has not scared off the desire for feminist protest one bit: up to 25,000 people, according to the calculations of the Guardia Urbana, have gathered this afternoon in the University square of the Catalan capital to demonstrate, one more year, that the feminist struggle is not going backwards, but is maintained more, it is never maintained, but is maintained more The reactionary wave that has made the extreme right rise everywhere.

In October 2020, in the midst of the pandemic, a group of countries including Trump's United States and Bolsonaro's Brazil promoted what is known as the "Geneva Consensus." It is a declaration and a kind of voluntary and non-binding association of countries that defend policies against abortion and in favor, they say, of the family as the main basis of society, in which women have a central role. Joe Biden left, as did Lula da Silva, but in mid-February Trump rejoined, and it is likely that this ultraconservative lobby will gain more and more momentum. It is no joke. It is made up of some 40 countries, including Russia, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Guatemala, Egypt and Hungary. All of them known for their discriminatory treatment of women and for a religious and patriarchal worldview that seeks to undermine the great consensus that has existed until now in the international context.

Does the patriarchal context nullify or condition women's decision-making capacity? If so, how and why? Is this incapacity – if we accept it – inherent in all women, or are there differences? Where can we begin to set limits? How has fiction contributed to distorting the idea of consent? In this choral piece, six commentators explore the (im)possibility or difficulty of women saying no and the open cracks through which we can operate to reverse this inequality.

He sign The celebration of Women's Day in Castellvell del Camp shows us the portraits of eight women, cut outs on a lilac background. There is a young woman, with dark skin, with a hairstyle on her head (a bun) that suggests an afro. One who looks like a child, with – I would say – a veil. Another, also young, with her eyes closed and smiling, with blonde hair. Another with a veil, who also has her eyes closed and is smiling. One with dark hair, with bangs. One with a high-necked sweater and curly hair, with a serious demeanor. One with medium-length hair, with clothes that look like an office outfit. And one with a burka. We don't know if this one is smiling or not.

Protests have been called for International Women's Day in a year in which the pandemic has hit women hardest. Precisely because of covid, this year won't see any of the marches we have seen of recent; instead, static demonstrations have been called. It is paradoxical that precisely jobs most often done by women - those of care, cleaning, services or health - have proved essential to overcome the crisis and, however, are the least valued socially and the most precarious. Women's organisation insist there are plenty of reasons to demonstrate and go on strike, whilst trade unions have called for a day's strike in protest over the gender gap which, far from closing, has increased in the last year. Women's work is essential but precarious.