Whether it’s discussing Afro-Futurism through the documentary medium, researching how the Yoruba culture perceived beauty or tracking different movements throughout history, Emma Dabiri’s work spans across genres, disciplines and as I discovered during our conversation at the Emirates Literature Festival, absolutely refuses to be categorised based on people’s expectations:

HL: I wanted to start with your work on Disobedient Bodies. I think that’s an amazing title, what made you want to focus on the concept of reframing how we think about the body?

ED: I guess I was fed up and kind of exhausted by the fact that beauty exerts such a tyrannical and oppressive force in our lives, and yet it has the capacity to be something completely different. It has the capacity to bring us a lot of joy and excitement.

When things anger me or make me feel small, I need to understand why they operate the way they do. Then I can think about ways they could be imagined or organized differently. I wanted to go into the roots of where our long-standing sense of contempt for the body comes from.

I really like to write about things that aren’t what you’re going to see talked about on social media or read everywhere else. I want to introduce people to ideas they might not have encountered before. What we commonly hear is that oppressive beauty standards come from advertising or the media — and while that’s true — I was curious as to why those ideas are so powerful, why they stick so well.

That took me back to Greek philosophy and the fundamental ideas about the body that exist in Western culture and discourse.

HL: Yes, I remember listening to the Happy Place podcast, and you mentioned something about ocularcentrism. Could you elaborate a little bit on that? I was following along and thought, Okay, I think I know what she’s trying to say, but it would be wonderful to hear how you connected that with the notion of where we are now in terms of how we view physicality.

ED: Right, okay. So first of all, this idea that we’re told we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover—it’s something we’re supposed to strive towards. But the reality is, we often make judgments based on what we see. We’re conditioned to believe this is a universal, foundational principle—that we look, we see, and we make judgments. However, I discovered through my research that this idea is actually culturally specific.

It hasn’t always been this way across the world, and it’s something that’s been imported globally. In fact, it’s rooted in Western culture, particularly the elevation of sight above all the other senses. That’s where the term ocularcentrism comes from—it’s a particular construction of reality, and it’s not how everyone has made sense of the world.

So, I started looking at cultures that weren’t historically as guided by ocularcentrism, and I considered how that impacted beauty culture in those societies. For example, one of the cultures I focused on was the Yoruba culture of southwestern Nigeria, because that’s my paternal heritage. Not only that, but the Yoruba diaspora is huge—especially across the Caribbean and the Americas due to the Transatlantic slave trade.

The Yoruba culture wasn’t traditionally organized around ocularcentrism, and that had a significant impact on how beauty was perceived. In the traditional, philosophical, and metaphysical sense, there was a deep value placed on inner beauty—which is actually your character. In this worldview, inner beauty was more important than outer beauty. Outer beauty couldn’t even really be perceived unless inner beauty, such as character and integrity, was present to animate it.

HL: So now, in contrast, it seems like the automatic judgment is almost the other way around, isn’t it? People often think, Okay, they’re attractive, so they must be good.

ED: Exactly. The idea that someone looks beautiful or handsome automatically influences how we perceive their character, which is so different from those other cultural perspectives.

HL: Did anything surprise you when you looked into how different cultures have historically perceived the concept of beauty? Or was it mainly focused on the Yoruba culture?

ED: No, it wasn’t just the Yoruba culture. I also looked at pre-Christian Irish traditions, because I’m from Ireland—my mom’s Irish, so I’m Irish as well. I was interested in what existed in the pre-colonial context, but in Ireland, we were colonized for over 800 years. So, I wanted to know, what were the traditions before colonialism and also before the introduction of Christianity? Christianity was introduced before colonialism in Ireland, and it was actually Christianity that shifted many of the pre-Christian beliefs.

In those pre-Christian beliefs, there were some interesting concepts of time. One of the things I discussed in Disobedient Bodies was how Western philosophy often works with a binary—black and white, young and old, man and woman, good and bad, laws and perfect. We’re very used to thinking this way. But in many pre-Christian or pre-colonial understandings of time, it wasn’t seen as operating in a chronological, linear way. This chronological framework lends itself to distinctions between beginning and end, old and young. But in these other worldviews, time was seen as cyclical—things coexisted.

So in Yoruba culture, as well as in pre-Christian Irish traditions and many other cultures, there wasn’t a strict delineation between the past, present, and future. There was a belief that history operated in a circular way rather than a linear one. And interestingly, this aligns with what we’re now learning from quantum physics, where time doesn’t operate chronologically as we once assumed.

In pre-Christian Irish traditions, the figure of the hag and the maiden were seen as coexisting. There wasn’t a strict distinction between an old and a young woman. They were part of the same thing. It just shows that there’s no strict binary—it’s more complex. The two archetypes coexist, forming a whole. There wasn’t any privileging of youth over age.

In many of these cultures, there was a different relationship with aging, too. In these traditions, elderly people were seen as becoming ancestral spirits. For example, in Yoruba traditions, there’s a cyclical understanding of time, where elders are seen as joining the ancestors, then being reborn. While I don’t know about this specific idea in the Irish context, I can speak to it in the African context.

This connection between aging and spiritual rebirth isn’t feared—old age is actually highly respected. So, there’s no privileging of youth in these cultures. This contrasts sharply with the global beauty culture obsession with maintaining a youthful appearance at all costs, even against the passage of time. In the Irish context, I was looking at this coexistence between the maiden archetype and the hag archetype, which suggests a more holistic understanding of age rather than a binary approach.

HL: That’s really fascinating talking about time and movements and the chronology of it, because one thing that I was thinking of when I was reading Don’t Touch My Hair during what I’m calling my ‘Angry Brown Woman’ Phase, was when the Black Lives Matter movement re-emerged and when the feminist movement was being spoken about again, there was this real focus on intersectionality or lack thereof. I wanted to know what your perspectives are on these issues being categorized into movements. Do you think that phrase is helpful in terms of solidarity, or can it sometimes be a bit reductive?

ED: There was definitely a movement — if we look at where politics are now, there’s been a sharp shift to the right. So, I’m not sure how effective those movements were in achieving their stated goals. In my second book, What White People Can Do Next, I warned about the shortcomings of liberal, mainstream anti-racism. I argued that it doesn’t have the generative power to create lasting, systemic change. The current political climate confirms that — those movements may have shifted discourse for a time, but they didn’t transform the structures of society.

HL: That also makes me think of, for example, the body positivity movement in terms of where we are now. I mean, skinny seems to be back in. And I’m just sort of thinking to myself, was that whole phase a lie?

ED: I don’t think any of it was a lie. I think we believed what they were saying, but I think it was quite trend-based or our understandings of certain things were slightly shallow, so it didn’t bring about actually profound transformation. It brought about temporary change that is subject to shifting when the vibe shifts, when the when the pendulum swings back.

So, I think the pendulum is swinging back in the opposite direction very firmly now. There is a real reassertion of skinniness. There’s a real reassertion of straight hair after like the natural hair movement and the celebration of afro hair. I also said that was likely to happen because from studying history, you see that these things kind of operate again in this cyclical way. In the Black Power movement in the 1960s, everyone had afro hair. And then by the nineties, everyone was chemically straightening their hair again. So, I was just like, this is likely to not be something that maintains, and then, you know, we’re shifting back.

HL: Well on that, your work delves into the historical whether it’s through writing or broadcasting or teaching – it’s such a broad body of work. Have you noticed a shift in how history informs identity either through your own experiences or the students that you meet?

ED: Yes, for example, I did the same degree that I taught. So I saw a big difference, I guess, in that I saw a significant difference in how ideas were presented to us and how we analyzed them to how it’s happening twenty years later.

I would say we were learning from ( in the late 90s when I was doing that degree) we were still using a lot of texts from the 1960 from that post-colonial, like African moment, which were very much informed by revolutionary socialism, Marxism, these revolutionary ideas that while advancing African and black liberation were more organised around political and economic structures.

Fast forward twenty years, there’s a lot more identity- first -person kind of testimonial material, and I think a far greater organizing around ‘identity’ rather than political. So yes, revolutionary socialist organising and now far more coalescing around identitarian politics and different identity categories, if that makes sense.

HL: Yes sort of! Do you think that it’s effective or, is it more effective to have a combination of the two, one where the self informs the organised?

ED: No, because I think the self was still present in the first one…okay so this is the difference: I think (and I make this distinction in What White People Can Do Next) there’s a liberation politics, which is about freeing people from oppression and identifying that possession as rooted in a particular economic system. Then there is an anti-racist politics that’s like, ‘let’s kind of keep things as they are, but just make them more diverse’.

HL: What do you make of that, do you think it’s shifting? I keep coming back to the diversity movement in terms of how you see it with where we are now.

ED: We have institutions that are institutions and systems that are oppressive and extractive and exploitative, and we’re not seeking to transform them, we’re just seeking to make them more inclusive, and I don’t have much faith in that approach.

HL: Do you think that students nowadays have changed with that – I compare how students are now to how I was at school and there seems to be such a willingness to call things out then and there – do you find that helpful in terms of reclaiming history, culture and identity?

ED: I think it’s different in different contexts. I do think a lot of call out culture is facilitated by the need on social media to be active and to be saying something. There were so many things that were horrendous that had been happening that needed to change – I’m completely advocating for that – but I think specifically, the nature of ‘let’s call this out on social media’, is effective in some individual cases. But in terms of a transformation of society?  I mean, just look at the world around us is.

 I think in terms in terms of people reclaiming their cultures, I think there’s been really interesting things happening there which is a different thing to calling out. For instance,  even in Ireland when I was growing up, learning Irish was like just perceived as like punitive and  not cool. Now, so many people are learning the Irish language again and there’s a real movement around that. Like, there’s this film that’s nominated for the Oscars –  these two rappers called Kneecap and their film is an Irish language film which would have been unheard of when I was growing up.

HL: That’s wonderful, I guess in addition to that-

ED: Oh sorry one other thing!

HL: Yes of course!

ED: With Nigeria as well, you can’t now go anywhere in the world and not hear Nigerian music, it’s everywhere! And so many of the artists as well, sing in Yoruba and you hear it on the radio. So, it is this reclamation of things that we were taught to be ashamed of.

HL: I’ve had moments like that too when it comes to seeing more South Asian characters on screen – on that actually, as thinking of television shows made me think of costumes – what role do you think clothing plays in that reclamation of identity along with the body?

ED: Well….I really like clothes! I think how we adorn our bodies, as our bodies are our primary interface with the world, is hugely significant. For me, I’m not actually really thinking about what message I’m putting across with my clothing outside of the fact that I like clothes and I like dresses.  Sometimes I present in a way that some people might say is ‘frivolous’ or I have an interest in clothes that people might say is at odds with the serious nature of the topics that I talk about.

HL: Which is that binary nature that you talk about: the idea that ‘well, she dresses that way so she can’t be serious’.

ED: Exactly. I really push back against that and just wear whatever I want to wear. I’m often probably quote unquote ‘overdressed’ for things, but I really feel like it’s important, important for me to express myself the way that I want to, without having to conform to people’s expectations of how they think I should look. And also, to conform to rigid notions of who is worth listening to or who is intelligent, based on how they’re looking in a world where I think femininity is really coded as inferior, particularly when it comes to anything intellectual or cerebral.

HL: With the coding of femininity, when you add intersectionality to that, do you feel that then adds a whole other layer of issues for women of colour to contend with as well?

ED: Yes, because I honestly feel that as well as being a woman, anyone who is also perceived as looking young or not white – all of these things are characteristics that add up to you being taken less seriously. But I like confounding people’s expectations – sometimes low expectations – of me.

HL: Within the work that you have delved into, whether it was writing, broadcasting, teaching – what were the most challenging aspects of that and how did you find the journey of venturing from one to the other?

ED: The first thing I was doing was teaching, so I think that stood me in good stead for presenting, especially because most of what I was presenting was like specialist factual stuff, so it was like history, it was educational.

 I was a little nervous at first in terms of speaking on camera and being like, ‘oh, I’ve got to remember everything that I need to say’ initially. But also I was far less nervous by that stage because I had been teaching for every ten years, and I think the first time I stood up in a lecture hall was probably the time I was most terrified -and probably that whole first year I was actually really nervous, but I think being able to deliver a lecture to a group of students and doing that for a long time made me experienced in conveying information verbally.

HL: It’s like extreme theatre!

ED: Yeah, in a way, it’s quite performative! But in terms of the different mediums, so far, not so much. I think whenever ideas can be expressed through words, I find that relatively easy.

But I’m going to try and translate some of my ideas into -this is also part of my PHD – translate some of my ideas into more visual mediums. So, I’m kind of just working on that at the moment. And then, my next nonfiction book, which I’ve just finished the proposal for – that  (I actually can’t say what it is yet. If it was like, a week from now, I could!) will be very unexpected thematically.

HL: With those mediums, particularly history, are there any pieces or nuggets that you’ve found where you’ve just thought ‘Oh my god, how do people not know about this?!’

ED: So I know I’ve spoken about this lots, but when Black Lives Matter was happening and everybody was like it was the time when everyone was talking about race, but they were still talking about race as if it just was something that naturally existed in the world, like there were just ‘black people’ there were just ‘white people’ –  they just existed.

And I was like, no, these are racial categories.

This was invented for a very particular purpose, and we can date the first time this notion is introduced into legislation to a particular set of slave codes in Barbados in 1661. So I just thought people kept saying ‘racism is a social construct’ but it was repeating this mantra, but not actually knowing what that means. This is the time to mainstream that knowledge: why these racial categories were invented and the function that they were invented to serve and then we would have a far better understanding of everything we’re talking about. I still don’t think that information is mainstreamed, but I’ve done my best to talk about it as much as possible.

HL: It does feel like we went through a big ‘reading and research’ period, I know I did, I read Staying Power (by Peter Fryer) and-

ED: Oh, Staying Power is excellent!

HL: It’s so good!

ED: But again, this is what I’m saying with a lot of the older books and what I was trying to do with What White People Can Do Next was connect that moment, with earlier moments because a lot of that work was being eclipsed, and I think that’s some of the strongest work.

HL: One of the things that stood out to me the most from that book was (I can’t remember if it was the 17^th or 18^th century) when he was talking about how communities of colour and working-class white communities would often work together to stop unlawful arrests and then, you think about what happened last summer in England (the racist riots).

ED: Yes, this is what I’m saying about things being organised more around these narrow concepts of identity rather than around a shared politic. And there’s a book called Here to Stay, Here to Fight, which is a collection of essays from Race Today which was a radical journal and newspaper that was out in Britain in the 1970’s – most of the people in it such as Darcus Howe were Caribbean immigrants to the UK, but they spoke so much about organising with Asian factory workers and with Irish people. All of these people are organised around an anti-imperial politic rather than a rigidly identitarian one, so there’s more scope to have this coalition in ways that are not as atomised by the identity position.

HL: Do you think feminism needs more of that approach?

ED: I think feminism just needs to be more radical – feminism was just captured by this corporate girl boss, glossy idea and things need to be more radical.

HL: I find the interpretation of that phrase ‘girlboss’ so interesting in terms of how it used to be so aspirational, but now it’s laced with so many problematic examples of how it only applied to certain women and was actually so exclusionary. It speaks to that question of can quote unquote ‘get it right’ and what that looks like?

ED: Yeah I know, there’s lots of feminists who I think are – I’m trying to think of contemporary examples because most of the ones I’m thinking from are from the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s.

HL: Who from that time do you think epitomised the idea of being a feminist?

ED: I think it’s the type of feminism that is folded into a broader liberation politics, so the Combahee River Collective who are actually the people that coined the phrase ‘identity politics, but their vision of identity politics was very different to what it evolved into its in social media articulation. They were a group who with the women’s movement being very white and the Black Power movement being very masculine, they were like ‘where do we fit in?’.

So. they came up with this concept of identity politics, but it was never just about not working with anybody else, it was about identifying other groups such as radical white people or men who were committed to liberatory politics and working in coalition with those people – as opposed to just competing in a sort of ‘Oppression Olympics’. It was a way of strategising to bring different groups of people to work together in order to create mass movements, not what it felt like more recently where people are like, ‘our struggle is worse than yours’ and making these groups adversarial.

HL: Thank you – with that in mind – what is next for you? I know you mentioned a new book but are you doing more film work or documentaries?

ED: I’m working on another nonfiction book and I’m also working on my first novel, but that is also a secret!

HL: Have you found it challenging moving from the non-fiction space into the fiction space, or has it been a welcome change?

ED: It’s been welcome, I really wanted to do it because I wanted the freedom, but it’s been a big shift in the writing which I’m getting to grips with.

HL: I very much look forward to reading it!