Why the Commission on the Status of Women Matters — and Why We Show Up

Every March, thousands of diplomats, activists, and advocates descend on United Nations headquarters in New York for a gathering known as the Commission on the Status of Women, or CSW. This year marks CSW70 — the seventieth session. Seventy years is long enough to reflect both remarkable progress and the fragility of that progress. 

The Commission on the Status of Women is where governments agree on global standards for gender equality. These agreements don’t automatically change lives overnight. But they do shape laws, policies, and expectations in ways that ripple outward for decades. For example, many countries adopted laws prohibiting female genital mutilation (FGM) laws after years of governments and civil society advocates building support and ultimately consensus at the CSW that this was a practice that should be universally banned. 

When the CSW first met in 1946, same-sex sexual conduct was criminalized in most of the world, trans and intersex persons were almost entirely invisible in public discourse, and the idea that lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, and queer (LGBTIQ) people had human rights was barely imaginable in international diplomacy. Over time, that began to change. Activists organised. Communities became more visible. Slowly, international human rights standards evolved to recognise that LGBTIQ people are entitled to the same dignity and protections as everyone else. No more. No less. 

One important milestone in the history of the Commission on the Status of Women was the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action (BDPA), agreed in 1995 at the Fourth World Conference on Women by all UN member states. For the first time, governments agreed on a blueprint of practical, action-oriented measures that governments could take to give effect to the ideal of gender equality. The BDPA reframed gender inequality as a structural and political problem to be solved and introduced and popularized the idea of “gender mainstreaming” — meaning every policy, in every government ministry, should consider its impact on women. That was game-changing. Lesbian activists were among those that pressured governments in Beijing to adopt inclusive language.

We celebrated the 30-year anniversary of the BDPA last year, commemorating the lesbian activists who showed up and pushed for the world to recognize them and other marginalized groups, and that a lesbian human rights defender was even invited to address the governments of the world. While governments were unable to reach consensus on the inclusion of “sexual orientation” and the declaration did not explicitly name LGBTIQ people, its iconic recognition that “women’s rights are human rights” helped open doors. It affirmed principles — bodily autonomy, freedom from violence, and equality before the law — that apply to all people, including those whose sexual orientation, gender identity, or sex characteristics place them at risk.

Since then, progress has been uneven. Some countries have expanded protections. Others have pushed back. Furthermore, this year’s CSW takes place at a critical time, not just for the global gender architecture but also in the midst of the UN80 reform process. This is the first CSW since a revitalization process was kicked-off, and will be the first test on whether member states can deliver an outcome document that is “short and succinct, ambitious, focused on the priority theme” without compromising the level of ambition set forth in the Beijing declaration and platform.  Second, the UN itself is facing a reform process, the UN80 Initiative, which will change how the UN is “structured, managed, and coordinated.” This involves potential reforms at UN Women, a crucial ally on LGBTIQ people’s rights, and even a possible merger with the UN Population Fund (UNFPA). A strong outcome document is key to show political will and support to the mandate of UN Women at a critical moment. And that is why CSW70, in 2026, matters so much.

Each year, governments negotiate what are called “Agreed Conclusions” — a negotiated document that sets out what UN member states agree should be done to advance gender equality. Every word matters. Once language is agreed on, it becomes a reference point that advocates, courts, and policymakers can use to push for change. But when that language is weakened, or when previously agreed-upon terms are removed, it signals that commitments can be rolled back.

Today, some governments are actively trying to do just that. A few countries, led by Egypt and Russia and now also including the United States, have, in different ways and for different reasons, challenged or sought to limit references to concepts like gender, bodily autonomy, and nondiscrimination. In 2026, they are emboldened and are working hard to dilute international standards by removing language like “all women and girls” and “multiple and intersecting forms of discrimination” in an attempt to limit LGBTIQ people’s access to human rights protections. When governments question agreed language, it emboldens others, allowing opponents of equal rights to start to unstitch what has been carefully woven together over time. The risk is not just stagnation.  It is tangible regression.

For LGBTIQ people, the impacts are not  abstract. International standards on gender equality help protect all people facing gender-based violence, discrimination, or criminalization. They help ensure access to health care. They help activists argue their cases in courtrooms and parliaments. They signal that no one should be treated as less than human.
If those standards weaken, future generations will inherit a world where their rights are less certain.

That is why showing up matters.

And this work cannot be done by one movement alone. One of the most important lessons of recent years is the need for alliances. The women’s rights movement has been a powerful force for change, and while there have sometimes been tensions or misunderstandings with the LGBTIQ movement, there is also deep and growing recognition that our struggles are connected. Efforts to control bodies, restrict autonomy, or police identity rarely stop with one group.

And in 2026, it is crucial to defend the idea that international rules and human rights standards matter at all.

In some political circles, human rights and international law are dismissed as a “woke agenda” — optional, ideological, or irrelevant. These are some of the arguments that governments use to undermine equality. But the truth of why we fight for previously agreed language such as “multiple and intersecting forms of discrimination” and “all women and girls” or their “diverse situations and conditions” is simpler and more practical. Shared standards that are sufficiently broad and inclusive make the world more stable, more predictable, and more just. They help prevent abuses. They create accountability. They offer hope.

The United Nations is  not perfect, and it ultimately reflects the political realities and trust of its member states. Progress has been slow, frustrating, and incomplete. But without it, there would be no global forum where governments agree that the world can indeed be a better place and where they must answer not only to their own citizens, but to each other — and to the people affected by their decisions.

CSW is part of that system. It is one of the places where the future of human rights – and thereby the very dignity of human beings – is quietly negotiated, line by line.

For organisations like Outright International, being there is not symbolic. It is practical. It is strategic. And it is necessary.

Because rights, once won, are never guaranteed.And because the decisions made today will shape the world that future generations inherit.