Review written by Laura Beer

Is there a special relationship between modesty and femininity? Drawing on sources ranging from court cases to women’s popular magazines to seventeenth-century drawings, Wendy Shalit argues for modesty as not only distinctly feminine but also virtuous in her A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue.

Modesty is first of all a natural defense for women, argues Shalit. Women have a qualitatively different experience of sexuality than men, involving a greater level of vulnerability at both physical and emotional levels. Shalit substantiates this claim with many examples from women who write into women’s magazines to express relationship woes. From these examples, we learn that many women not only wish for more commitment and fewer partners than men do, but that they too often feel embarrassed admitting to this or try to feel otherwise, only to find that they are inexplicably unhappy. The women-are-the-same-as-men mentality, an outgrowth from the sexual revolution, is the culprit, making women confused about why they are less comfortable with casual physical relations and why they desire more from their relationship partners than men do on average.

In Western society before the sexual revolution, modesty invited respectful codes of conduct toward women and required men to act honorably in order to win a woman’s interest in courtship. Womanly modesty and manly honor complemented one another as distinctively gendered modes of social conduct that reflected the greater vulnerability of women. In addition to treating women with gendered deference, respect, and courtesy, an honorable man refrained from boasting about romantic relationships, thereby protecting the private from the public eye. He guarded her modesty.

Within this context, modesty could act as a feminine virtue, in its ability to raise the conduct of both women and men to a higher and more respectful level. It created mystery in and sublimation of sexuality so that more could remain private between a husband and wife, thereby protecting the special intimacy of that relationship. It also reflected and enhanced specific womanly traits, such as secret-keeping and social sensitivity.

Shalit is very optimistic about women’s desire to return to a more modest culture based on a growing cultural awareness of how an immodest sexual standard leads to unhappiness. Her book’s biting wit would be most refreshing to read as an undergraduate in college, surrounded by the hook-up culture. It would be less desirable to give to teenage women to read, as it quotes examples quite explicitly. It also does a very sketchy job of substantiating historical claims about previous codes of modesty.

Most provoking about Shalit’s book is her basic reliance on distinct differences between men and women. One might take issue with some of the lines she draws between men and women, but at the same time, her examples do impressively substantiate her claim that women are more vulnerable. And it is interesting to reflect on why it would be uncomfortable to agree with her: our discomfort pointing perhaps to the politically correct downplaying of differences between women and men.

Shalit’s strongest argument is that modesty is virtuous and distinctly feminine. Her book encourages us to reconsider past codes of conduct without dismissing them too easily as misogynistic. Perhaps Shalit is right that these codes of conduct had caught onto some essential differences between women and men, and thereby were better equipped than we are post-sexual revolution to encourage men and women toward greater virtue and toward a more gender-sensitive sense of what will make us happy in relationships and families.