In Defense of Witches

The greatest trick power ever pulled wasn't convincing us that a monster lurked in the shadows, but that the monster was someone else entirely. It took the image of an independent woman—one who lived alone, mastered a craft, offered healing, or simply refused to conform—and meticulously painted it over with horns and a cauldron. This was a strategic rebranding. The goal was to create a cultural boogeyman so terrifying that other women would shrink from their own potential, mistaking their ambition for a curse and their intuition for a dangerous spell. The most effective cage is the one we build ourselves, using fear as the blueprint.

This historical sleight of hand became a personal obsession for French-Swiss journalist and essayist Mona Chollet. She noticed how the archetypes used to condemn women centuries ago—the childless, the aging, the outspoken—still echoed in the subtle anxieties and judgments faced by modern women. Chollet saw that the witch hunt never truly ended; it just went undercover, trading the stake for media caricatures and social pressure. "In Defense of Witches" is her effort to unmask this lingering ghost as a living force that continues to police female autonomy and power. She wrote the book to connect the dots from the pyre to the present day, revealing how the fear of the witch is, ultimately, the fear of the free woman.

Module 1: The Witch as a Blueprint for Female Autonomy

Let's start by redefining the witch as an archetype. The witch, as Chollet presents her, is the original independent woman. She lives on her own terms, outside the control of a husband, father, or priest.

This figure is deeply ingrained in our culture. Chollet recalls a witch from her childhood reading, Flutter Mildweather. This witch was a respected craftswoman, a weaver who lived alone with her crow. She had her own style and her own purpose. This image stuck with Chollet because it offered an alternative path for a woman, a path defined by self-determination. And here's the thing. This vision of female power is rooted in reality. The historical persecution of witches was a direct assault on female independence. The women targeted were often those who threatened the patriarchal order. They were healers and midwives, whose knowledge gave them authority. They were widows who controlled their own property. They were single women who answered to no man. The witch hunt was a brutal, efficient tool for social control. It sent a clear message. A woman on her own is a woman in danger.

But flip the coin. What was once a symbol of threat is now being reclaimed. Feminist movements have transformed the witch from a slur into a symbol of resistance. Slogans like "We are the granddaughters of the witches you weren't able to burn" are political statements. They connect contemporary struggles for autonomy—over our bodies, our careers, our life choices—to a long history of resistance. Activist groups like WITCH, an acronym for Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell, used theatrical protests in the 1960s to challenge patriarchal systems. They understood the power of the archetype.

So what's the actionable insight here? The book suggests we can actively draw on this archetype. We can identify and cultivate "witch-like" qualities in ourselves and others. This means valuing independence as a legitimate and powerful way of life. It means celebrating women who are artists, scientists, leaders, and thinkers, living on their own terms. It means recognizing that the solo founder, the childfree executive, or the woman who travels the world alone isn't an anomaly. She's part of a lineage. She is a modern incarnation of a powerful, resilient archetype.

Module 2: The Modern Witch-Hunt: Singleness, Motherhood, and Choice

Now, let's move to the second key idea. The witch hunt never truly ended. It just changed its tactics. Today, the stake has been replaced by social stigma, economic pressure, and media propaganda. This is most visible in the way society treats women who deviate from one specific life script: marriage and motherhood.

The single, independent woman is still perceived as a threat. Chollet points to the 1980s and 90s backlash against feminism. Suddenly, the media was filled with stories about the "man shortage" and the misery of career women. Films like Fatal Attraction portrayed the single professional woman as a psychotic monster. This was a cultural campaign to scare women back into traditional roles. The "unhappy single woman" is a modern caricature of the witch: lonely, dangerous, and incomplete without a man. This trope is incredibly persistent. Think of the "cat lady" stereotype. It's a watered-down, pathetic version of the witch with her familiar, a way to mock and dismiss female solitude.

This brings us to motherhood. Chollet argues that motherhood, as an institution, has been a primary tool for controlling women. It's often presented as a biological destiny. And women who reject it face immense pressure. Choosing not to have children is framed as a selfish, unnatural act that requires constant justification. The book details how women who express this choice are often told they’ll "regret it." They are interrogated by family, friends, and even doctors. Sociological studies have pathologized childless women, diagnosing them with a "troubled relationship to otherness." The pressure is so intense that the term "biological clock" itself was popularized by a 1978 newspaper article titled "The Clock is Ticking for the Career Woman." It was a metaphor designed to create anxiety. It worked.

Furthermore, the book explores the ultimate taboo: maternal regret. Sociologist Orna Donath’s research found women who, while loving their children, admitted they would not become mothers if they could choose again. They mourned the loss of self, freedom, and identity. Acknowledging this reality is about understanding that the role of mother, with its demands for total self-sacrifice, can be crushing. The cultural taboo against admitting maternal regret silences women and reinforces the myth that motherhood is universally fulfilling. By giving voice to this regret, Chollet reveals the immense pressure of an institution that demands women dissolve their own identities. The witch, who historically refused this role, represents the freedom to say no.