This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.
Ilona Maher via Facebook
American rugby player Ilona Maher has risen to global fame. Not just because of her athletic ability (though that is remarkable, winning an Olympic bronze in 2024 in the USA rugby sevens team, and now signing a professional contract with England’s Bristol Bears), but because of what she represents.
Maher received widespread attention during the Paris Olympics as she shared her journey to sporting success and acceptance on TikTok. It’s a streak she’s continued with a recent turn on the US reality contest Dancing With the Stars, in which she finished second.
Now in Bristol to play 15-a-side rugby in preparation for the 2025 World Cup, Maher’s popularity (she has 3.4 million followers on Tiktok, more than any other rugby player in the world, of any gender) signals a generational shift. One that is increasingly rejecting outdated notions of femininity, fragility and women’s place in sport.
Maher is unapologetically big, strong and bold, embodying traits that women have historically been told they shouldn’t possess. She doesn’t shy away from expressing herself. Instead, she has expanded the western cultural model of what strength and confidence can look like.
On Dancing with the Stars, Maher reversed conventional gender roles by lifting her partner during routines. After the show, she spoke candidly about the financial challenges of being a professional athlete in women’s rugby. She highlighted how lack of investment in the sport has forced her to find additional ways to sustain her career, such as participating in the dance show.
Breaking Barriers
This rebellion against gender norms is both personal and political. Sport has long been a site of this struggle for women.
Participation itself was once radical, as women had to fight just to step onto the field. When American runner Bobbi Gibb broke the rules to run the Boston Marathon in 1966, it was a subversive act that sparked backlash. She ran without permission, having been told women weren’t capable enough, and completed the race easily.
In our new book, Open Play: The Case for Feminist Sport, we explain how women who excelled in physically demanding sports were often vilified for threatening the traditional gender norms that placed them in passive or nurturing roles, rather than active, competitive ones.
Athletes who showed strength, endurance and skill in these domains challenged deeply ingrained stereotypes of women as physically inferior and fragile. As a result, they faced intense scrutiny, both socially and publicly. Their achievements were often dismissed as anomalies, and they were frequently subject to sexist criticism, questioning their femininity or even whether they were “real” women at all.
Maher, too, has faced this misogynistic criticism, with online trolls questioning her gender identity. She has spoken openly about the shame she felt as a child, growing up in a body which defied traditional expectations of femininity that are defined by smallness. Yet by confronting these prejudices, she offers the world a new example of what a woman’s body—and a woman’s power—can look like and do.
Feminism and Sport
Feminism has historically focused on achieving equality in social, political and economic realms. Yet thinkers like Mary Wollstonecraft recognized early on that physicality was central to maintaining men’s dominance. Wollstonecraft argued in 1792 that women’s perceived physical inferiority wasn’t natural, but a product of their subjugation.
Sport has since become a pivotal arena for challenging the myth of feminine fragility, which persists in part because of the supposedly objective proof that men outperform women in many physical feats. But Wollstonecraft’s insights remain relevant: men and women still do not compete on equal terms. Women’s sports receive a fraction of the funding, resources and cultural support of men’s.
And the inequalities extend far beyond economic and cultural support. Women are often discouraged from participating in sport, and shamed if they excel.
We argue that the segregation of women’s sport, often framed as necessary to “protect female athletes,” actually perpetuates inequality. Around the world, women are still barred from competing against men no matter how exceptional they are, while men retain access to the best facilities, funding and opportunities.
In our book, we argue that this structural segregation reinforces the myth of women’s inferiority while denying women and other athletes with marginalized gender identities the chance to push boundaries and showcase their full potential. Ending this segregation would challenge the narrative of feminine fragility and open the best of sport to everyone.
We believe that Maher embodies this challenge. Her fans see in her a bold rejection of outdated gender stereotypes and a celebration of what women can achieve when given the chance. But her visibility also threatens those invested in maintaining traditional hierarchies. The backlash she faces is a reminder of how high the stakes are.
Sheree Bekker, Associate Professor, Department for Health, University of Bath
Stephen Mumford, Professor of Metaphysics , Durham University
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