Why Women Have Better Sex Under Socialism: And Other Arguments for Economic Independence: Summary & Key Insights

To understand how socialism affected women’s lives, we must begin with history. Before socialism, in both Eastern Europe and the capitalist West, women’s roles were defined by domesticity and dependence. Men earned, women cared. Economic inequality was mirrored in gender inequality. But after the Second World War, as socialist regimes emerged across Eastern Europe, governments made deliberate efforts to draw women into the workforce. They passed laws guaranteeing equal pay, maternity leave, childcare, and access to education. These measures were not acts of charity; they were built into a vision of the socialist state itself, which imagined citizens as equal contributors to the collective good.

This shift reshaped daily life. In Bulgaria, East Germany, Poland, and the Soviet Union, women became doctors, engineers, factory workers, and professors. Their participation in public life dramatically increased. Yes, ideological motivations underpinned these policies—socialist production required labor from all citizens—but the practical outcome was that women gained autonomy. In the capitalist West, by contrast, employment remained largely gender-segregated and social services were privatized, leaving women to juggle paid and unpaid work without public support.

Western observers often viewed socialist gender policies as propaganda. They saw smiling women in posters, proud workers who seemed too perfect to be real. Yet behind the imagery was a tangible reality: millions of women who owned their choices to a greater extent than their Western counterparts. This historical backdrop sets the stage for my argument that socialism, while flawed, offered structural advantages that capitalism seldom delivered.

Economic independence is the heartbeat of this book. It is impossible to talk about women’s freedom without talking about money. In socialist economies, women’s employment was not optional; it was encouraged, supported, and socially valued. The state invested in early childhood education, public housing, healthcare, and paid parental leave. These policies allowed women to participate fully in public life while maintaining stable family structures. Crucially, they reduced women’s dependence on male breadwinners.

In capitalism, financial dependence often masquerades as personal choice. The idea that staying at home is a freely made decision obscures how economic systems limit possibilities. Without affordable childcare or paid family leave, many women leave work not because they want to, but because they cannot afford not to. Under socialism, those barriers were much lower. Women’s salaries provided not just income but security and leverage—the ability to negotiate, to leave unhappy marriages, to pursue careers, to demand respect.

Think of a Bulgarian teacher who knows she can raise her children without fearing starvation if her husband leaves. Think of an East German engineer who can support herself without apology. These are not purely economic outcomes; they are emotional revolutions. When women have personal resources, their relationships become partnerships, not dependencies. As I argue throughout the book, socialism’s greatest gift was not just the paycheck—it was the space it created for women to imagine themselves as agents of their own lives.