Three Guineas

Woolf describes a theoretical daughter of an educated man and examines the “products of that reading and writing which lie upon her own table” (88). The woman reads several newspapers every week to give herself a balanced account of the facts. As is the case with literature, the woman suggests, “you have to strip each statement of its money motive, of its power motive, of its advertisement motive, of its publicity motive, of its vanity motive, let alone of all the other motives which, as an educated man’s daughter, are familiar to you, before you make up your mind which fact about politics to believe, or even which opinion about art” (89).

This pursuit of truth could be useful in preventing war, as “if we knew the truth about war, the glory of war would be scotched and crushed” (89). Thus, the daughters of educated men, who have enough money and do not “prostitute culture,” can be asked to help in the prevention of war through literary means.

But how could a woman “put her opinion into practice” (90) and do more than just sign a manifesto? Woolf suggests writing directly for a wider audience and finding “new ways of approaching ‘the public’” (90).

At the same time, the hypothetical woman should distance herself from “passive methods of protecting culture and intellectual liberty” (91), abstaining from writing or reading “at the command of another” (91). Woolf recommends only signing the correspondent’s manifesto if she can abide by these terms.

Next, she moves on to the correspondent’s second point: that she should “subscribe to the funds of your society” (92). She begins by asking him about the aims of his society and wonders whether she can impose terms on him, as she did to the treasurer. The aim, “broadly speaking” (92), is to prevent war, which will be achieved by opposing dictators, promoting democratic ideals of equal opportunity, and protecting the rights of the individual. If those are the ideals, Woolf says, she will give her guinea freely to the cause.

But, she points out, it is important to note what ‘free’ means. The donation has no requirements or conditions, “because the one right of paramount importance to all human beings is already won” (93): “the right to earn a living” (93). Now, the daughter of an educated man can earn money and donate it to her brother’s cause, without having to attach conditions. This event is so momentous, Woolf recommends a massive celebration should take place. The celebration is also for the death of the word ‘feminist’; as that most important right has been won, the word is obsolete. This victory, she suggests, is the same victory that the correspondent seeks, as they are “fighting the same enemy” (94). But the fight is not yet won, she concedes, whether against the patriarchy, fascism, or dictators. 

Woolf now turns to the correspondent’s final point: that people should join anti-war societies. On the surface, it seems a simple request. But it is not so easy. Woolf places the unsigned membership form to the side while she discusses the difficulties of joining such a society.

She begins by distinguishing between a society and an individual. She asks, “is there not something in the conglomeration of people into societies that releases what is most selfish and violent, least rational and humane in the individuals themselves?” (96). Societies are different for men and women; they help perpetuate the patriarchy. If women were to join male societies, they would “merge [their] identity in yours” (97). Woolf believes she can achieve more outside the society than within it.

Woolf then postulates on what kind of alternative society she might form. Such a society would need no funds, it would have no committee or secretary, and it would hold no meetings or conferences. It might be called the “Outsiders’ Society” (97) and would consist of the daughters of educated men, “working in their own class […] for liberty, equality and peace” (97).

In the event of war, this society would refuse to take part, nor would its members “incite their brothers to fight” (98); rather, it would “maintain an attitude of complete indifference” (98). If a man says he is fighting for his country, the society member might ask what “our country” (98) actually means, as reflection would convince her that “her sex and class has very little to thank England for in the past; not much to thank England for in the present; while the security of her person in the future is highly dubious” (99). “Our country,” the woman might decide, “has treated me as a slave” (99). This definition of indifference will lead to certain actions. It will prohibit the woman from any displays of patriotism or militarism, for instance, or any acknowledgment of war at all.

In addition, members of the society should commit to earning their own living. Woolf outlines the importance of the state paying a wage to mothers and married women, which would afford them an economic freedom and benefit the state. Not only would the outsiders commit to earning their own living, but they would earn their living “so expertly that their refusal to earn them would be a matter of concern to the work master” (102), by becoming masters of their chosen trade and making themselves indispensable. They would commit to “practice their profession experimentally” (102) and reveal “tyranny or abuse” (102) in their professions. They would also “remain outside” (102) any profession that was hostile to freedom, including weapons manufacture. The members would also scrutinize societies and reveal its hypocrisies.

The Society of Outsiders would have the same aims as the correspondent’s society but would pursue them in a different way. The correspondent’s society is inside the mainstream, while Woolf’s is outside of it. Society members would reject traditional notions of aesthetics and beauty and work towards new definitions of these concepts, in opposition to existing fascist ideas. She compares mainstream society to a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car: frozen with fear and unable to move. The changes she proposes will happen necessarily in the darkness, away from the spotlight.