Women and Power

Women and Power Plot Summary

Introduction

The silencing of women's voices has deep roots in Western culture, dating back to the earliest examples of our literary tradition. From Telemachus telling his mother Penelope to "shut up" in Homer's Odyssey to modern-day Twitter trolls threatening female journalists, there exists a persistent pattern of attempting to exclude women from public discourse. This historical continuity reveals that the mechanisms that marginalize women's speech are not simply products of individual prejudice but are embedded in our cultural inheritance. What makes this cultural pattern so powerful is its ability to transform over time while maintaining its essential function. Classical notions of authority have been coded as inherently masculine, with a deep male voice signifying wisdom and female speech being characterized as "prattling," "whining," or simply inappropriate for public forums. Understanding this pattern allows us to recognize how seemingly neutral standards for public speech continue to disadvantage women, not because of any biological determinism, but because our very concepts of authority, power, and leadership remain culturally encoded as male. By examining these patterns critically, we can begin to imagine new frameworks that do not require women to imitate men in order to be heard.

Chapter 1: The Historical Silencing of Women's Public Voices

Western civilization's pattern of silencing women begins at its very foundation. In Homer's Odyssey, when Penelope comes down from her quarters to request that a bard change his song, her son Telemachus promptly sends her back upstairs, declaring that "speech will be the business of men." This moment illustrates a fundamental aspect of classical culture: public speech was not merely something women didn't do; it was an exclusive practice that defined masculinity itself. To become a man in the ancient world meant claiming the right to speak publicly. The term "muthos" used by Telemachus specifically referred to authoritative public speech, distinguished from the "chatting" or "prattling" associated with women. This exclusion was reinforced through cultural narratives. In Ovid's Metamorphoses, female characters who attempt to speak are often physically silenced – Io is transformed into a cow who can only moo, Echo can merely repeat others' words, and Philomela has her tongue cut out after being raped. These transformations demonstrate how thoroughly female speech was perceived as threatening to social order. Roman writers further codified this view, with one first-century anthologist struggling to identify just three examples of women who spoke in public forums – and even then describing them as unnatural anomalies. One woman with a "man's nature," another who "barked" rather than spoke, and a third who was acceptable only because she spoke exclusively on behalf of women's interests. The classical world did permit women's speech in two limited contexts: as victims about to die, and as defenders of narrow domestic interests. Lucretia is allowed to speak only to denounce her rapist before committing suicide. Hortensia earned rare praise for her oratory because she spoke solely as a representative of Roman women facing special taxation. These exceptions actually reinforced the rule that women should not speak on matters concerning the community as a whole. As one second-century guru put it, "a woman should as modestly guard against exposing her voice to outsiders as she would guard against stripping off her clothes." What makes this ancient template so significant is its persistence in Western culture. Renaissance theories of rhetoric drew explicitly from classical sources, and the parliamentary procedures established in the nineteenth century were developed by men steeped in classical learning. When women began entering previously male domains, they faced criticism that echoed ancient prejudices. Henry James warned about the polluting effect of women's voices, describing female speech as a "tongueless slobber or snarl or whine" that would sound like "the moo of the cow, the bray of the ass, and the bark of the dog" – language strikingly reminiscent of classical descriptions of inappropriate female vocalization. Even today, our language betrays these ancient biases. Women who speak forcefully in public are described as "strident" or "whining." Female voices are not heard as conveying authority, expertise, or gravitas. The persistent pattern shows that the challenge for women is not simply about access to speaking platforms but about transforming deep cultural assumptions about whose voice deserves to be heard.

Chapter 2: Classical Origins of Gender-Based Voice Discrimination

The ancient world developed sophisticated theoretical frameworks that naturalized the exclusion of women from public speech. These theories extended beyond simple custom or prejudice to create comprehensive systems of thought that made male dominance appear to be part of the natural order. At the center of this system was the connection between voice, physical attributes, and character traits. Aristotle and other classical theorists explicitly linked voice pitch to moral qualities, arguing that a low-pitched voice indicated manly courage, while a high-pitched voice revealed female cowardice. This physiological determinism provided an apparently scientific basis for silencing women. Classical oratory was framed as a defining characteristic of citizenship and masculinity. The ideal Roman man was encapsulated in the phrase "vir bonus dicendi peritus" – a good man, skilled in speaking. This formulation made oratorical skill inseparable from manhood itself. Women who attempted to speak publicly were therefore caught in an impossible double bind: by speaking, they were acting in a manner inappropriate to their gender, but to be taken seriously, they needed to speak "like a man." The first-century Roman anthologist Valerius Maximus illustrated this paradox when he described Maesia, who successfully defended herself in court, as having "a man's nature behind the appearance of a woman," calling her an "androgyne." Public speech in the classical world was conceptualized as a performance of dominance. The orator commanded the physical space, the attention of the audience, and claimed the right to shape collective decisions. This connection between speech and dominance explains why female speech was perceived as particularly threatening to social order. Dio Chrysostom asked his audience to imagine the catastrophe of men suddenly speaking with female voices, declaring it would be "terrible and harder to bear than any plague." The anxiety revealed in this thought experiment shows that gender hierarchy was maintained not just through legal restrictions but through cultural policing of vocal expression. Classical mythology reinforced these ideas through narratives of transgressive women being punished. The story of Medusa is particularly significant – a woman whose gaze had the power to turn men to stone, she was beheaded by the hero Perseus, who avoided her direct gaze by using his shield as a mirror. The image of Medusa's severed head became a powerful symbol of the neutralization of female power. It appeared on Athena's breastplate, suggesting that even the most prominent female deity had to incorporate symbols of subdued femininity to legitimize her authority. The classical tradition also developed specific aesthetic standards for evaluating speech that disadvantaged women. Male oratory was praised for its forceful rhythms, commanding presence, and logical structure. These qualities were contrasted with the supposed characteristics of female speech: emotional, disorganized, and focused on trivial domestic concerns. This dichotomy between male logos (reasoned discourse) and female phone (mere voice or sound) created a framework where female contributions could be dismissed as lacking substantive content regardless of what was actually said. These classical origins of gender-based voice discrimination provided not just specific practices but a complete conceptual system that has proved remarkably durable. When examining contemporary patterns of silencing women, we can recognize that they are not simply random instances of sexism but expressions of deeply rooted cultural assumptions about who has the right to speak with authority.

Chapter 3: Modern Manifestations of Ancient Misogynistic Patterns

The classical patterns of silencing women have evolved into more subtle but equally effective modern forms. In corporate settings, research consistently shows women being interrupted more frequently than men, their ideas being attributed to male colleagues, or their contributions being overlooked entirely – a phenomenon captured perfectly in the 1988 Punch cartoon where a man says, "That's an excellent suggestion, Miss Triggs. Perhaps one of the men here would like to make it." This pattern has been documented across professional contexts, from courtrooms to corporate boardrooms to medical settings, showing that the ancient exclusion of women from authoritative speech continues in contemporary professional life. The language used to describe women's voices reveals the persistence of classical prejudices. Female politicians are routinely criticized for vocal qualities in ways male counterparts rarely experience. Margaret Thatcher famously underwent voice training to lower her pitch after advisors suggested her natural voice lacked authority. When Jacqui Oatley became the first woman to commentate on BBC's Match of the Day in 2007, critics complained that her voice was unsuitable for football commentary, with one calling it "an insult to the controlled commentaries" of men. These criticisms rarely focus on content but instead suggest that women's voices are inherently inappropriate for certain contexts. Online harassment represents perhaps the most explicit modern manifestation of ancient silencing tactics. Female journalists, politicians, and public figures routinely face gendered abuse that specifically targets their right to speak. The content of these attacks is remarkably consistent with classical patterns – women are told to "shut up," threatened with rape or violence specifically directed at organs of speech ("I'm going to cut off your head and rape it," "You should have your tongue ripped out"), and dismissed as stupid regardless of their qualifications or the substance of their arguments. The intent, like that of Telemachus, is to drive women back to the private sphere. Media representation continues to reinforce the outsider status of women in power. News coverage of female politicians often focuses disproportionately on appearance, family circumstances, and personality rather than policy positions. Headlines frequently describe women's advancement in terms that suggest inappropriate aggression or illegitimacy. A 2017 Times headline reading "Women Prepare for a Power Grab in Church, Police and BBC" revealed the underlying assumption that power naturally belongs to men, with women merely "grabbing" what isn't rightfully theirs. This framing perpetuates the classical view of women as interlopers in public life. Professional expectations create a double bind reminiscent of the classical dilemma. Women who adopt traditionally masculine communication styles risk being labeled aggressive, unlikable, or unnatural. Those who employ more traditionally feminine styles are often deemed too emotional, indecisive, or unfit for leadership. This parallels the ancient classification of the female orator Maesia as an "androgyne" – women in professional settings are still caught between conforming to gender expectations and being taken seriously as authoritative voices. The common advice given to women facing harassment – to remain silent, not to "feed the trolls," to quietly block abusers – ironically achieves exactly what the harassers want: women's silence. This parallels the classical tradition of praising women who maintained a modest silence in public settings. While presented as practical guidance, this advice effectively reinforces the ancient norm that public speech is not women's domain and that the proper response to challenge is withdrawal rather than assertion of one's right to speak.

Chapter 4: Women in Power: Cultural Barriers to Female Authority

Our cultural template for powerful figures remains stubbornly male despite increasing numbers of women in leadership positions. When asked to visualize a president, professor, or CEO, most people – including women in these roles – automatically picture a man. This is not merely habit but reflects deeper cultural programming about what authority looks like. A simple experiment searching for "cartoon professor" in Google Images reveals the strength of this association – out of hundreds of results, typically only one or two depict women. These mental templates create a background expectation that affects how we perceive actual women in positions of authority. The external markers of female leadership reveal the continuing pressure to conform to male models of power. The regulation trouser suits worn by political figures from Angela Merkel to Hillary Clinton serve as a visual strategy to make women appear more male and thus more suited to power. Elizabeth I acknowledged this reality when she claimed to have "the heart and stomach of a king" – to be accepted as a ruler, she had to present herself as symbolically male. This pattern continues today, with studies showing that women in leadership positions often modify their communication styles, dress, and behaviors to fit masculine norms of authority. Classical mythology provides a troubling framework for understanding contemporary reactions to powerful women. In Greek drama, female characters who wield power – such as Clytemnestra or Medea – are portrayed as monsters who illegitimately seize authority, create chaos, and must ultimately be destroyed to restore proper order. These characters are described with masculine language and attributes, reinforcing the idea that a woman with power ceases to be a woman at all. The frequency with which contemporary female leaders are compared to these mythological figures or depicted as monstrous reveals the persistence of these ancient narratives. The case of Medusa demonstrates how classical imagery continues to frame our perceptions of female authority. The severed head of Medusa – a female figure whose power (her gaze) made her dangerous to men – appears throughout Western art as a symbol of the neutralization of female threat. During the 2016 US presidential campaign, merchandise depicted Donald Trump as Perseus holding the severed head of Hillary Clinton as Medusa, complete with snakes for hair. Similar imagery has been used against Angela Merkel and other female political figures. This explicit recycling of classical imagery reveals how ancient patterns of misogyny continue to structure contemporary political discourse. The metaphors we use to describe women's relationship to power consistently position them as outsiders. We speak of women "breaking glass ceilings," "storming the citadel," or being given a "leg up" – language that implicitly acknowledges that power structures were not designed with women in mind. Even positive coverage often frames women's achievements as exceptional or surprising. This outsider framing creates additional psychological burdens for women in leadership positions, who must constantly navigate the tension between their gender identity and their professional role. The double standards applied to men and women in power are particularly evident in responses to failure or mistakes. When female public figures make errors, these are often presented as evidence that women as a category are unsuited to their positions. In contrast, men's mistakes are treated as individual failings that do not reflect on male capability generally. This pattern was evident in the contrasting public responses to UK politicians Diane Abbott and Boris Johnson when both performed poorly in interviews – Abbott was ridiculed as fundamentally incompetent, while Johnson's failings were treated as mere lapses in preparation. This asymmetry reflects the continuing view of women in power as conditional occupants of roles that rightfully belong to men.

Chapter 5: Medusa and Political Imagery: Weaponizing Classical Symbols

The Medusa myth represents one of the most persistent and powerful classical templates for delegitimizing female authority. In Greek mythology, Medusa was a woman with snakes for hair whose gaze could turn men to stone. Her story typically centers on her beheading by the hero Perseus, who avoided her direct gaze by using his shield as a mirror. This narrative embodies the perceived need to neutralize female power through male heroic action. The severed head of Medusa became a potent symbol in classical art, most notably appearing on Athena's breastplate – suggesting that even female authority figures needed to incorporate symbols of subdued femininity to legitimize their power. Throughout Western art history, the image of Medusa's severed head has appeared as a subject of fascination. Caravaggio's famous 1598 painting depicting the screaming, bleeding head of Medusa captures the horror and violence of this mythic moment. Benvenuto Cellini's bronze statue in Florence shows Perseus triumphantly holding Medusa's severed head while standing on her mangled corpse. These artistic traditions established Medusa as a canonical symbol of dangerous female power neutralized through masculine violence. The visceral nature of these images – the blood, the screaming face, the snakes – associates female authority with monstrosity and the need for violent control. Contemporary political discourse has weaponized this classical imagery with remarkable directness. Female political leaders are routinely depicted with Medusa-like snake hair in political cartoons, social media memes, and even merchandise. During her time as Home Secretary, Theresa May was dubbed the "Medusa of Maidenhead" in police federation publications. Angela Merkel's features have been superimposed on Caravaggio's Medusa painting in numerous internet memes. These visual associations do not merely suggest disapproval of specific policies but frame female authority itself as monstrous and threatening. The 2016 US presidential campaign saw particularly explicit use of Medusa imagery against Hillary Clinton. Merchandise depicting Donald Trump as Perseus holding Clinton's severed head circulated widely, available on t-shirts, coffee mugs, and tank tops with slogans like "TRIUMPH" or "TRUMP." This imagery was not relegated to fringe groups but became part of mainstream political expression. The normalization of such violent imagery reveals the depth of cultural resistance to female leadership and the continuing power of classical templates for expressing that resistance. What makes the Medusa parallel particularly revealing is how it connects to broader patterns of misogynistic speech. The Medusa myth centers on a woman whose power lies in her gaze – if men look directly at her, they are turned to stone. This parallels contemporary discomfort with women who speak with authority or who expect to be heard in public forums. The mythological "solution" – decapitation – has its modern equivalent in the language of online harassment, which frequently includes threats specifically targeting women's ability to speak, such as threats to cut out tongues or sever heads. Feminist scholars and artists have attempted to reclaim the Medusa image, reinterpreting her as a symbol of female power and resistance. Collections such as "Laughing with Medusa" seek to transform the monster into an emblem of women's refusal to be silenced. The fashion house Versace adopted Medusa as its logo, attempting to associate her with beauty and luxury rather than horror. However, these efforts at reclamation have had limited impact on political discourse, where the classical interpretation of Medusa as a threatening figure who must be subdued continues to dominate. The persistence of Medusa imagery in attacks on female leaders demonstrates how classical templates continue to structure our responses to women in power. This is not simply a matter of recycling convenient symbols but reveals the continuing strength of ancient narratives that frame female authority as unnatural, dangerous, and requiring violent control. Understanding these deep cultural patterns is essential for recognizing how misogyny operates not just through explicit bias but through established cultural narratives that automatically position women as outsiders to legitimate power.

Chapter 6: Redefining Power Beyond Traditional Male Frameworks

The challenge of integrating women into positions of authority requires more than simply increasing numerical representation. If women are perpetually treated as outsiders in structures designed by and for men, achieving genuine equality will remain elusive. What is needed is a fundamental reconsideration of how we understand power itself. The classical model of power – defined as dominance, individual possession, and public prestige – inherently excludes women as a category. Instead of trying to fit women into this framework, we might instead question whether this conception of power serves anyone well, regardless of gender. Traditional definitions of power focus on its possession – power is something one has, holds, or wields over others. This framework naturally associates power with characteristics culturally coded as masculine: dominance, competition, and hierarchical authority. However, alternative conceptions frame power as an activity or capacity – the ability to effect change, to make a difference, or to collaborate effectively. This shift from power as possession to power as action opens possibilities for recognizing and valuing forms of influence that don't fit the classical mold. The fixation on high-profile leadership positions creates a narrow understanding of what constitutes meaningful power. League tables tracking the percentage of women in national legislatures provide one metric of progress, but such measures may miss important questions about where substantive influence actually resides. In some contexts, high female representation in parliaments may indicate that those bodies have been hollowed out, with real authority migrating elsewhere. Similarly, corporate diversity statistics focusing exclusively on board membership may obscure more fundamental questions about decision-making processes and organizational culture. Collaborative models of influence challenge traditional power frameworks. The Black Lives Matter movement, founded by three women – Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi – demonstrates effective change-making outside conventional power structures. Few people recognize their names, yet their impact has been substantial. This model of distributed leadership contrasts with the "great man" theory of history and suggests alternative paths to meaningful influence that don't require adopting traditionally masculine modes of authority. The association of leadership with specific forms of speech and self-presentation disadvantages those who communicate differently. The ideal of the commanding, decisive, oratorically gifted leader derives directly from classical models of male citizenship. Yet effective coordination and change can emerge from various communication styles. Redefining what constitutes authoritative communication – valuing clarity, empathy, and collaboration alongside assertiveness – would create more inclusive leadership models without sacrificing effectiveness. Women who have achieved positions of authority often develop strategic approaches to navigating male-dominated environments. Margaret Thatcher famously turned her handbag into a symbol of authority, transforming a quintessentially female accessory into a verb of political power ("to handbag"). Theresa May's distinctive shoes similarly refused traditional male templates while establishing a visual signature. These adaptations demonstrate how women can carve out independent territory by exploiting, rather than simply imitating, gendered expectations. However, such individual strategies do not address the structural issues that position women as outsiders. A more fundamental transformation would involve questioning what we collectively value in leadership. Qualities traditionally associated with femininity – such as empathy, cooperation, and relational thinking – have often been dismissed as unsuitable for serious leadership. Yet these same qualities increasingly appear in lists of desirable leadership traits as organizations recognize the limitations of traditional command-and-control models. Redefining excellence in leadership to include a broader range of approaches would benefit organizations while creating more inclusive pathways to influence. Ultimately, the goal should not be simply to place women within unchanged structures of power but to transform those structures to better serve collective needs. This means moving beyond the image of the glass ceiling, which positions women as perpetual outsiders seeking entry to male domains, toward a fundamental reconsideration of how influence and authority might be distributed and exercised. Such transformation benefits not only women but creates more responsive and effective institutions for all.

Chapter 7: Strategies for Advancing Women's Position in Public Discourse

Addressing the systematic exclusion of women from authoritative speech requires action at multiple levels, from individual tactics to institutional reform to cultural transformation. At the individual level, women and their allies have developed various strategies for countering silencing techniques. When women are interrupted or their ideas are appropriated in meetings, techniques such as amplification (where colleagues deliberately repeat and credit a woman's point) can ensure contributions are recognized. Making deliberate space for women to speak, through facilitation techniques or meeting structures that prevent domination by the loudest voices, creates practical pathways for inclusion. Consciousness-raising about gendered communication patterns is essential for recognizing problems that often operate below the level of awareness. Many people who would reject explicit sexism nevertheless participate in patterns that marginalize women's contributions – interrupting more frequently, giving less weight to their expertise, or holding them to higher standards. Education about these patterns helps both men and women recognize and counteract them. This includes understanding phenomena like the "double bind" where women must navigate between being perceived as too aggressive or too passive, with little middle ground where they will be judged as speaking appropriately. Institutional reforms can create structural support for women's voices. Organizations increasingly recognize that diversity initiatives focusing solely on numerical representation are insufficient if underlying cultures continue to marginalize certain voices. More effective approaches include examining hiring and promotion criteria for implicit gender bias, implementing structured discussion formats that ensure all participants can contribute, and creating accountability mechanisms for inclusive practices. Some institutions have experimented with anonymizing certain decision processes to reduce the impact of gender bias on how contributions are evaluated. Technological platforms shape who can speak and how they are heard. The architecture of online spaces can either exacerbate or mitigate harassment and silencing. Platform design choices – from moderation policies to algorithms determining what content gains visibility – profoundly affect whose voices dominate public discourse. Developing better tools for preventing abuse while protecting free expression represents a crucial frontier in ensuring women can participate in digital public spaces without facing disproportionate harassment. Media representation plays a powerful role in shaping cultural norms around authority and expertise. Increasing the diversity of experts consulted in news coverage, featuring women's voices across a full range of topics rather than relegating them to stereotypically "female" issues, and examining language used to describe female public figures all contribute to normalizing women's authoritative speech. Media literacy education helps audiences recognize patterns of marginalization and question representations that reinforce traditional gender hierarchies. Educational institutions have particular responsibility for developing new generations of confident, articulate voices. Teaching methods that encourage participation from all students, providing opportunities to practice public speaking in supportive environments, and presenting diverse models of effective communication help young people develop their voices regardless of gender. Curriculum that includes examination of communication patterns and power dynamics enables students to recognize and challenge traditional constraints. Cultural transformation requires reimagining the very concepts of authority, expertise, and leadership. This includes questioning assumptions about what constitutes authoritative speech – the deep voice, assertive manner, and absolute certainty traditionally associated with male authority. Alternative models might value different qualities: clarity, nuance, ability to synthesize diverse perspectives, and openness to dialogue. This cultural shift benefits not only women but creates more inclusive discourse generally. The most profound change may come from developing greater critical awareness of our classical inheritance. Rather than simply rejecting this tradition, we might engage with it more consciously, recognizing both its influence and its limitations. Classical culture itself was not monolithic but contained internal critiques and alternative perspectives. Recovering these counter-narratives and developing new interpretations of classical symbols (like the attempts to reclaim Medusa as a symbol of female power) creates possibilities for transformation within rather than rejection of our cultural inheritance.

Summary

At its core, this analysis reveals that women's exclusion from public discourse and power is not simply a matter of individual prejudice or temporary inequality but reflects deeply embedded cultural patterns traceable to the foundations of Western civilization. From Telemachus silencing Penelope in Homer's Odyssey to modern politicians being depicted as Medusa, our cultural inheritance provides persistent templates for delegitimizing female authority. This historical continuity helps explain why, despite significant legal and social advances, women continue to face disproportionate challenges when speaking in public contexts or exercising power. The way forward requires more than simply helping individual women adapt to existing structures or gradually increasing numerical representation in positions of authority. It demands a fundamental reconsideration of how we understand power itself – moving from models centered on dominance, competition, and individual prestige toward conceptions that value collaboration, effectiveness, and the right to be taken seriously. By recognizing how deeply our ideas about authority are gendered, we can begin to imagine alternatives that do not require women to imitate men in order to be heard. This transformation would benefit not just women but would create more inclusive and effective public discourse for everyone, challenging us to develop new models of leadership and communication beyond the limitations of our classical inheritance.

About Author

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Mary Beard

Winifred Mary Beard (born 1 January 1955) is Professor of Classics at the University of Cambridge and is a fellow of Newnham College. She is the Classics editor of the Times Literary Supplement, and author of the blog "A Don's Life", which appears on The Times as a regular column. Her frequent media appearances and sometimes controversial public statements have led to her being described as "Britain's best-known classicist".Mary Beard, an only child, was born on 1 January 1955 in Much Wenlock, Shropshire. Her father, Roy Whitbread Beard, worked as an architect in Shrewsbury. She recalled him as "a raffish public-schoolboy type and a complete wastrel, but very engaging". Her mother Joyce Emily Beard was a headmistress and an enthusiastic reader.Mary Beard attended an all-female direct grant school. During the summer she participated in archaeological excavations; this was initially to earn money for recreational spending, but she began to find the study of antiquity unexpectedly interesting. But it was not all that interested the young Beard. She had friends in many age groups, and a number of trangressions: "Playing around with other people's husbands when you were 17 was bad news. Yes, I was a very naughty girl."At the age of 18 she was interviewed for a place at Newnham College, Cambridge and sat the then compulsory entrance exam. She had thought of going to King's, but rejected it when she discovered the college did not offer scholarships to women. Although studying at a single-sex college, she found in her first year that some men in the University held dismissive attitudes towards women's academic potential, and this strengthened her determination to succeed. She also developed feminist views that remained "hugely important" in her later life, although she later described "modern orthodox feminism" as partly "cant". Beard received an MA at Newnham and remained in Cambridge for her PhD.From 1979 to 1983 she lectured in Classics at King's College London. She returned to Cambridge in 1984 as a fellow of Newnham College and the only female lecturer in the Classics faculty. Rome in the Late Republic, which she co-wrote with the Cambridge ancient historian Michael Crawford, was published the same year. In 1985 Beard married Robin Sinclair Cormack. She had a daughter in 1985 and a son in 1987. Beard became Classics editor of the Times Literary Supplement in 1992.Shortly after the 11 September 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center, Beard was one of several authors invited to contribute articles on the topic to the London Review of Books. She opined that many people, once "the shock had faded", thought "the United States had it coming", and that "[w]orld bullies, even if their heart is in the right place, will in the end pay the price".[4] In a November 2007 interview, she stated that the hostility these comments provoked had still not subsided, although she believed it had become a standard viewpoint that terrorism was associated with American foreign policy.[1]In 2004, Beard became the Professor of Classics at Cambridge.[3] She is also the Visiting Sather Professor of Classical Literature for 2008–2009 at the University of California, Berkeley, where she has delivered a series of lectures on "Roman Laughter".[5]

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