Beyoncé is one of many icons that people have difficulty seeing as mortal (despite her dalliance with Sisqo). Her deification has only intensified over the years and, with her fortieth birthday upon us, the worshipful tone geared toward the triple threat sensation has only augmented. What’s more, anticipation of her first solo studio album since 2016’s Lemonade (also marking what will be the first record put out in her forties) is only adding to Beyoncé fever.
Long heralded as a feminist, especially after she put that title in huge block letters above her at a 2014 VMAs performance (in addition to the Mrs. Carter Show World Tour), Beyoncé has done a few contradictory things in her career in the face of holding on to that accolade. Starting with Destiny’s Child’s “Cater 2 U” and hopefully ending with the fact that she forgave Jay-Z for cheating on her (and yes, fellow “feminist” Hillary Clinton is guilty of the same with Bill). In between, too, there was a rather jarring song to hear coming from such a feminist: “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).” As the track that couldn’t be escaped from the end of 2008 onward, Yoncé was touted all the more as some kind of proponent for female empowerment for lyrics that urged women to “know their worth.” That worth, of course, being measured by whether or not a man was willing to marry them a.k.a. “put a ring on it.” Possess it. The “it” in question being, well, a vag. The extension of a woman, so easily interchangeable with an object to be owned in our society.
Like Madonna, Bey is a great curator, deft at incorporating the work and “influence” of other artists into her own. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s “We Should All Be Feminists” is one of the most obvious examples of that, with Beyoncé weaving it into 2013’s “Flawless” to get a message across that she herself couldn’t articulate with the same eloquence. Indeed, when you ruminate on the majority of Beyoncé’s career, so little of it includes thinking about her actually speaking during interviews. That would require too much reliance on herself—her own personality—as opposed to the coterie of handlers (from assistants to stylists to songwriters) that contribute to her success. It’s unlikely that Bey even chooses the “inspiration” herself at this point, having a team of trolls to keep their eyes out for “cool shit” to present to Beyoncé so that she might do what she does best with the material: curate.
That’s what she did with Belgian choreographer Anne Teresa de Keersmaeker’s work on “Rosas danst Rosas” for her “Countdown” video. What she did with Lorella Cuccarini’s choreography during her 2011 performance of “Run the World (Girls)” at the Billboard Music Awards. What she did with the “Formation” video via the footage lifted from directors Chris Black and Abteen Bagheri (but because of a loophole of “ownership,” Bey was able to pay off the problem as all rich artists can do).
Yoncé’s issue with taking credit where credit is not due has cropped up several other times in her career, from “lifting” music for songs like “Survivor,” “Baby Boy” and “If I Were A Boy” to claiming songwriting credit for singles like “Crazy in Love” and “Irreplaceable.” The truth about the latter came out quickly in 2008 after she told one of her audiences during a show that she wrote track for other women. Well, that would be lovely if it weren’t for the fact that Ne-Yo actually penned it, explaining, “I honestly wrote that song for myself. However, a man singing it comes across a little bit misogynistic, a little bit mean” (funny how feminism is only accepted in the present because it’s more commodifiable). But so, too, does it come across as “mean” for a woman applauded as a proponent of human rights and decency to steal from other artists so flagrantly. Some will say that’s the name of the game when you’re at the top. That taking other things for yourself is a right of the “divine.” And that if Bey didn’t do it, someone else would.
And maybe someone else would have ripped off Bob Fosse’s choreography for the “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)” video too. That is, if they weren’t too busy sending a mixed message about empowerment with the lyrics of said hit. For on the surface, it might seem affirming of the “independent woman,” but, in truth, the chorus reeks of desperation for a female to be validated by a man through the antiquated tradition of marriage. An institution that patently represents the oppression of women. In fact, it was the entire reason the practice was invented. To own her—and any property a man might be able to absorb from his wife’s father. Nonetheless, Bey blithely sings, “‘Cause if you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it/If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it/Don’t be mad once you see that he want it/If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it.”
In this goading chorus, Bey also wields the antithesis of self-worth (what many critics and fans like to deem the song is about) by using another man’s interest to show how desirable she is. As though that interest is the measure of just how much she should be valued by this other ex who didn’t put a ring on it in time. And what with the old strategy among women being to make themselves look more appealing by ensuring the man they really want sees that other men are interested—that she has “options”—the only “worth” she’s giving herself is still based on male validation. And this is something that Beyoncé overtly perpetuates in the song.
Even as she tries to throw in “free woman” statements like, “I need no permission, did I mention?/Don’t pay him any attention,” she negates it with her entire agenda being just that: an agenda. And one designed to still seek out the attention of the man who wouldn’t commit “in time.” Thus she chides, “‘Cause you had your turn (turn)/But now you gon’ learn/What it really feels like to miss me.” Yet, if you truly are emancipated from patriarchy and the idea that a relationship with a man is the crux of your worth, who really cares if he commits or not? Why bother with wasting energy on trying to make him jealous to “force him” to see what he’s missing? But Beyoncé caters to the toxic idea that a man can only see a woman as valuable if he can also see that other men have that opinion of her as well.
NPR, of all places, ranked “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)” as the third greatest song by a female artist of the twenty-first century, insisting, “‘Single Ladies’ was the roll call women in search of a barometer of self-worth had been wanting, and in some cases needing, to hear. It was Beyoncé demanding excellence and devotion on every woman’s behalf.” Uh, were we all listening to the same song? Because it’s clearly Beyoncé telling women that 1) if a relationship doesn’t result in the normie convention of marriage it’s both doomed and a failure, 2) a woman should move on quickly to find a “better” man who “values” her a.k.a. will adhere to the obviously worthless institution of marriage (as Jay-Z’s infidelity proved) and 3) that by “getting” another man, she might just scare the original one into putting a ring on it. The ring, of course, being another problematic symbol. For it represents the capitalistic nature of marriage. Designed solely to fuel the machine of neoliberalism. “Get a fancy ring to prove your love. Then buy me more shit to compensate for the fact that we’ll be bored of each other in less than a year.”
Pop culture itself (ergo Beyoncé) is part of the ceaselessly grinding wheels that move capitalism forward at a crushing speed. Beyoncé, for all her “feminism” and “trailblazing” ultimately only seeks to perpetuate the tenets of this system. That’s why this song is deemed one of her most signature anthems (complete with being cringily incorporated into Sex and the City 2). After all, the couple that gets married is far more likely to stick to the “necessary” tropes that make the world go round (because who run the world? Capitalism). The couple that buys together lies to themselves together. That the relationship isn’t built entirely upon false comfort. On creating a “nest” filled with all the middle-class trappings “required” to ignore that love is a bourgeois construct (hear: Pet Shop Boys). And when one is struggling for basic survival, it’s a bit difficult to even fathom having time to devote to such concepts as “love.” An ideal stoked, in the end, by “succeeding” at capitalism.
So yes, if you like it, please do put a ring on it (like Marilyn said, “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”). And as a woman, please do allow yourself to be imprisoned by that shackle: the erroneous notion that a relationship’s worth is based on a proposal. Because were it not for the continued fear of ceasing to bow to such twentieth century axioms, the system might actually finally crumble.
