Understanding CEDAW Cities: A Descriptive Analysis

Since 1997, when the City of Rosario in Argentina became the first human rights city (Oomen 2016), cities have become important sites for the advancement and protection of human rights (Oomen and Baumgärtel 2018). The European Union, the Council of Europe, and the United Nations all have launched comprehensive city initiatives to support cities’ role as proactive human rights actors focusing on issues such as climate change, children’s rights, fair trade, or immigrant and refugee rights (Oomen, Davis, and Grigolo 2016). In the United States, sanctuary cities and Bloomberg’s climate change city initiatives are the most well-known (Bauder 2017; Bloomberg 2015). Other US cities have drawn on the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (Neubeck 2016) or the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNICEF US n.d.). Thus, the Cities for CEDAW campaign can be seen in the context of a multitude of city-based human rights initiatives.

Previous research on the Cities for CEDAW campaign explores five lines of questioning (Och 2023). First, legal studies debate the legal implications and legality of CEDAW ordinances in relation to state, federal, and constitutional law (Burroughs 2005; Merry 2017). While cities cannot enter into treaties, it is less clear the extent to which they can adopt treaty policies as a matter of local law. For example, local CEDAW policies may require a city to take proactive steps to ensure gender equity in city operations. This action could, however, run afoul of federal constitutional guarantees of equal protection or statutory law prohibiting sex discrimination. This may become more of an issue in the wake of the United States Supreme Court’s recent affirmative action decisions limiting significantly the consideration of race in higher education. Another possible complication could come from federal preemption law. The failure of the Senate to ratify CEDAW could be viewed as federal preemption, thus prohibiting state and local governments from acting on their own in this area of law (Burroughs 2005; Davis 2017). Similarly, if cities begin submitting reports to the United Nations on their efforts to adhere to the CEDAW treaty, the federal government may view that as an infringement on the President’s foreign policy power (Davis 2017).

States, too, can act to preempt local ordinances from expanding rights beyond what state law provides. Cities vary significantly in the amount of autonomy they are given by their states. Efforts to limit cities’ abilities to enact progressive policies is evident in the LGBT rights context. Famously, Colorado enacted a state constitutional amendment to prohibit cities from enacting LGBT friendly policies. This was later ruled in violation of the federal constitution’s guarantee of equal protection in the Romer v. Evans decision (Stone 2012). But states continue to attempt to restrict cities’ ability to enact LGBT protective laws (Larsen 2018). Similar action could happen in the CEDAW context if cities, in the eyes of more conservative governments, go too far toward proactively advancing equity for women.

The second line of research on Cities for CEDAW uses qualitative in-depth case studies of campaigns to analyze the adoption process in individual CEDAW cities or a small group of cites. This research highlights the process that led to the adoption of a CEDAW ordinance or resolution (Grigolo 2008; Och 2018; Grigolo 2019; Lee 2019). For example, Grigolo (2008) noted that San Francisco was likely to be receptive to CEDAW in part because of the city’s liberalism and prior experience with human rights. Lee (2019) discussed how activists in San Francisco built their CEDAW campaign on prior feminist work and existing institutions. Och (2018) demonstrates that rooted cosmopolitans and globally linked organizations with local chapters across the United States, e.g., United Nations Association or the US National Committee for UN Women, played a crucial part in diffusing CEDAW initiatives across the United States.

Third, moving beyond the adoption process, studies also explore the implementation of CEDAW ordinances and resolutions (Merry et al. 2010; Womack 2015; Merry 2017; Grigolo 2008, 2019; Haddad 2021). Much of this literature has focused on the San Francisco case. Womack (2015) finds that the CEDAW ordinance prompted the city to address sexism somewhat successfully although the city has yet to consider the intersectional and structural impacts of gender-based discrimination. Grigolo (2008) argues that implementation in San Francisco has been a mixed bag; while several city departments have completed gender analyses, many of them simply used the gender analysis to ask for resources that the departments had already determined they needed before even conducting a gender analysis. This raises questions about the role, if any, the CEDAW ordinance actually played in this process. Haddad (2021) uses the Los Angeles and San Francisco cases to illustrate that city officials can easily evade responsibility for non-implementation due to a lack of accountability mechanism in the ordinance. Zwingel (2023) analyzes the Miami-Dade case to understand the impact of CEDAW on local gender equality. Similarly, Runyan and Sanders (2021) explore the possibilities of city-centered advocacy focusing on the cases of San Francisco and Cincinnati.

Fourth, studies analyze how CEDAW principles have been made relevant to local contexts (Lozner 2004; Levitt and Merry 2009; Chouinard 2017; Och 2018). More generally, we know that global norms are typically modified by local actors to fit with the local context through processes of framing, grafting, and culturally appropriate selection of international norms (Acharya 2004; 2012). Grafting occurs when local actors link global norms to existing local norms. Framing describes the process by which local actors create resonance between global norms and local concerns, cultures, and rules (Ayoub 2016; Tarrow 2005). Ayoub (2016) demonstrates how activists were able to link LGBT rights to local democratic values to increase acceptance of LGBT people. Here, Ayoub demonstrates the importance of local actors in bringing broader European values in favor of LGBT people to bear in less welcoming contexts. In the CEDAW example, Och (2018) argues that framing happened in two stages: first, the national Cities for CEDAW campaign framed CEDAW as an innovative and comprehensive tool to address already existing local gender-based discriminations. Second, local cities for CEDAW campaigns then used framing and grafting to make CEDAW principles and objectives relevant to and appropriate for local concerns.

Finally, studies on human rights cities more broadly use the Cities for CEDAW campaign to illustrate how the human rights movement works on the principles behind human rights cities (Demant 2015; Davis 2017; Nijman 2019). Davis (2017) discusses how inaction, here the Senate’s failure to ratify CEDAW, can be an impetus to local action on human rights issues. Davis also notes how cities must operate within the constraints of state and federal law but can use networks to make connections with international organizations. Davis offers an example from San Francisco; the city used informal reports to the United Nations to discuss the city’s compliance with CEDAW principles. Demant (2015) discusses how the San Francisco CEDAW ordinance has been used to improve domestic violence protection throughout the city which led to meaningful and tangible improvements in how the city responds to and addresses domestic violence incidents.

Our study, in contrast to previous studies, explores the varied types of contextual factors shared by cities that have acted on the CEDAW principles. We build on previous research by examining these structural factors across CEDAW cities. Research in several areas demonstrates that structural factors can play important roles in producing political and electoral change. For example, institutional, socioeconomic, and cultural factors impact women’s representation in politics (Och 2023). Countries with proportional electoral systems, electoral gender quotas, a greater proportion of women with tertiary education employed in the professional sector, and egalitarian cultural attitudes have more women in politics than those that do not. In the United States, congressional districts that are more urban, younger, educated, diverse, and lean Democratic, are more likely to elect women (Palmer and Simon 2006). Open seats facilitate women’s election overall (Carroll 1994) and for women of color, majority-minority districts are key to their electoral success (Hardy-Fanta et al. 2006). Similarly, research in LGBTQ politics shows the importance of demographic and other structural issues in electing LGBTQ candidates and enacting LGBTQ policies. Cities, specifically those with major universities or larger LGBTQ communities were at the forefront of adopting pro-LGBTQ policies (Button, Rienzo, and Wald 2002). A lack of organized opposition also helped in the early years. But, as the religious right organized in the wake of LGBTQ victories, the presence of significant opposition made repeal of LGBTQ-protective laws likely or made their initial adoption more difficult (Stone 2012). Based on previous studies about the effects of structural elements on political opportunities and outcomes, we think identifying the structural factors present in cities that have adopted CEDAW policies is important. This can provide a foundation for future in-depth research on these factors to attempt to determine any causal connections between structural factors and successful Cities for CEDAW campaigns.

We are confident that we have found all or nearly all cities and counties with an official CEDAW policy as of December 2024. In total, we identify 61 CEDAW Cities. Of those, 14 cities with CEDAW ordinances and 47 with CEDAW resolutions (see Table 1 below). We excluded a total of 13 cities that were listed as CEDAW cities on the website of the Cities for CEDAW campaign. For three municipalities (Sarasota, FL, Dane County, WI, and Jamestown, CO), we could not independently verify the existence of either a resolution or ordinance. We also identified two cities (Milpitas, CA and Granville, OH) which were not listed on the Cities for CEDAW campaign website. The website did include another ten municipalities where the resolutions simply called for the US ratification of CEDAW. We excluded these cities from our study. While these cities have acknowledged the importance of the CEDAW treaty, they have not taken any action to bring the treaty into municipal policy so they do not fit the parameters of this study. While these municipalities are excluded from our analysis, we believe that these examples may be interesting cases of failed localization attempts and should be subject to further research.⁸

In general, we find that CEDAW cities vary significantly across the structural factors we study here. Some factors, like higher support for the Democratic Party and larger city size, are shared by most, but not all, municipalities with CEDAW policies. We discuss each of the factors below. First, we look at the entire universe of CEDAW cities together, regardless of type of policy. For this analysis, we only include a city’s final CEDAW policy. Thus, when looking at cities that adopted resolutions before enacting an ordinance, we only consider the factors in place when the ordinance was adopted. We then examine only the cities with ordinances. Since an ordinance reflects a stronger commitment to CEDAW principles, we want to look specifically at these cities to determine whether they share certain characteristics.

Looking at all CEDAW cities, we find that only five of the 61 CEDAW cities were officially a human rights city at the time they adopted a CEDAW policy. Most of these cities became human rights cities several years before adopting a CEDAW policy. One additional city (Edina, MN) adopted a CEDAW policy the same year it declared itself a human rights city; the CEDAW policy preceded the human rights declaration by five months. Most cities (75%) did, however, have an office dedicated to human rights. This shows that CEDAW cities tend to have some formal commitment to human rights at the time they adopted a CEDAW policy. The data are more mixed when looking at women’s agencies. Only 22 of the 61 cities (36%) had a women’s agency at the time they adopted their CEDAW policy. While we expected CEDAW cities would likely already have made a commitment to gender equality issues by adopting a women’s agency, that does not appear to be true for the majority of the cities here. Instead, the CEDAW policy may serve as the first official action recognizing the need to address gender equality issues in local city policy beyond the more common non-discrimination policies widely adopted in federal and state law and occasionally in local law.

In terms of partisanship, we find that the majority of CEDAW cities are in counties that voted for the Democratic presidential candidate in the election prior to the CEDAW policy’s adoption. Only seven of the 61 cities (11%) with CEDAW policies are in counties that voted for the Republican candidate in the election prior to adopting the CEDAW policy. Additionally, one city, Salt Lake City, was located in a county won by the Democratic candidate (Hillary Clinton), but with less than 50% of the vote due to a strong showing by a third-party candidate. Each of the cities in Republican leaning counties adopted a resolution, not an ordinance. This intriguing finding shows, that despite continued and historical opposition of Republicans to CEDAW on the federal level, CEDAW resolutions are possible in Republican areas at the municipal level. This broadens the municipalities where activists can push for CEDAW as a safeguard for gender equality. Further research should examine the processes by which these cities came to support CEDAW.

CEDAW cities also vary significantly in the number of women on the local city council or county commission, from a low of 11% to a high of 100%. Only 18 of the 61 city councils were majority women at the time of adoptions. The mean (39%) and median (38%) indicate that CEDAW cities have on average a large minority of women in political office. But, again, the large range here indicates that CEDAW policies are possible in cities with limited gender parity on the governing councils in addition to those with significantly higher women’s representation.

For women mayors, we look only at cities since counties do not generally have a mayor. Only 14 of the CEDAW cities had a woman mayor at the time they adopted their policies. The presence of women lawmakers varies significantly among CEDAW cities, demonstrating that similar policies may be possible in cities where men remain dominant in local government, particularly where male officials are feminist allies. Of the cities with male mayors at the time of CEDAW policy adoption, most (but again not all) had at least a large minority of women on the city council. This relationship should be further explored in future research. Similarly to our findings regarding women’s agencies, it might be that the lack of women in local politics prompts activists to push harder for a CEDAW initiative to improve gender equality overall in their municipalities.

Population size varies significantly across CEDAW cities, ranging from Granville, Ohio (population 5,946) to Los Angeles, California (population 3,703,000). At the high end, seven of the municipalities included here have over one million residents; on the lower end, six are under 30,000. Looking at the Census definition, 32 CEDAW cities fall under the 250,000 thresholds for being considered a large city. While the average population is high (over 440,000), this is influenced by the inclusion of Los Angeles and other mega cities. The median population (233,209) more accurately shows that CEDAW cities tend to be bigger, but not the large metropolitan areas many might expect. This shows that successful CEDAW campaigns may be possible in cities of all sizes, including more conservative leaning rural areas.

We also expect CEDAW cities to be racially diverse. When looking at the racial diversity, we again find a wide range. The least diverse cities, Duluth, MN and Granville, OH are both 12% non-white. At the other end of the spectrum, Guadalupe and Milpitas, both in California, are over 90% non-white. Diversity, like other factors here, varies considerably. Thus, CEDAW cities tend to be diverse but do not have to be for a Cities for CEDAW campaign to target them.

In looking at the full universe of CEDAW cities, we find more variation than uniformity. There are some tendencies (larger, more Democratic) but our findings show that CEDAW policies are possible across a variety of city types underlining the potential of CEDAW to be a safeguard against the ongoing assault on women’s rights in the United States since 2022. Next, we analyze ordinances separately to see if ordinance cities share common characteristics that are not noticeable when looking at the full universe of CEDAW cities. This is important because ordinances typically create legal obligations for municipalities and thus are more effective tools to protect gender quality than resolutions alone.

Cities with a CEDAW ordinance have made a stronger commitment to CEDAW principles. By passing an ordinance, the city is more likely to commit to tangible action rather than the generally symbolic statement signified by simply adopting a resolution (Och 2022). In general, CEDAW ordinances require cities to conduct gender audits and enact policies to address gender disparities. Resolutions do not; they merely make a symbolic pledge about the importance of gender equality and the CEDAW principles. Because of this stronger commitment, we want to look closely at only those cities with an ordinance to see if they share certain traits. We use the same methodology as above. There are 14 cities with CEDAW ordinances, half of which are in California. The others are in Ohio (2), Florida (2), Pennsylvania, Hawaii, and the District of Columbia.

We present the data outlining the political factors across CEDAW cities with ordinances below in Table 2. Two of the cities here, Washington, DC and Pittsburgh, PA, were officially declared a human rights city at the time they adopted a CEDAW ordinance. Nearly all the other cities, though, did have a human rights office; only two cities, Los Angeles and San Diego, did not have human rights offices when they adopted their CEDAW ordinances. This lends support to our assumption that CEDAW cities will tend to have some openness to international law and human rights even if they have not declared themselves to be human rights cities.

All 14 of the CEDAW cities with an ordinance are in Democratic counties. Given the stronger commitment and legal obligations reflected in a CEDAW ordinance it is not surprising that these cities are all in solidly Democratic counties. As noted above, the Democratic party has been more supportive of CEDAW generally and thus cities aligned with that party are more likely to take on the legal obligations inherent in a CEDAW ordinance. Unfortunately, this conclusion may indicate that CEDAW ordinances in more conservative communities will remain elusive. Resolutions, however, might still be possible and could be a building block for greater commitment to gender equality when the locality is more ready to adopt the stronger gender equity framework that comes from an ordinance. More research is needed to determine if this is the case, given the small number of cities that have enacted an ordinance after adopting a resolution (Cincinnati, OH, Los Angeles, CA, and Milpitas, CA).

Looking at the role of women in government, we find that only Washington, DC had a woman serving as mayor at the time the city adopted a CEDAW ordinance. Women’s presence on city or county legislatures is more varied. None of the cities had male monopolies on city council. The majority had more than a handful of women in office, ranging from 30 to 60% women. Four of the cities were classified as having only a small minority of women; these ranged from 16 to 25%. Lastly, only 8 of the 14 cities had a dedicated women’s agency before adopting a CEDAW ordinance. Having some presence of women in government, at least a small minority, may make adopting a CEDAW ordinance easier. This aligns, to some degree, with our expectations as noted above.

Table 3 provides an overview of the population and racial diversity of cities and counties adopting a CEDAW ordinance. Cities with a CEDAW ordinance range from 80,273 (Milpitas, California) to nearly 3.8 million (Los Angeles). Most of the cities are large cities, with only two (Milpitas and Berkeley) falling below the 250,000-population threshold. Interestingly, both of these small cities are in close proximity to other, larger CEDAW cities, potentially indicating policy diffusion from the larger cities that adopted policies earlier. Five of the 14 localities are over 1 million people; this includes Broward and Santa Clara counties which, of course, include multiple cities. Cities with ordinances also vary in their racial diversity. Here, we again look at the Census data for each locale and report the percentage of the population that is non-white, non-Hispanic. Cities with CEDAW ordinances vary from 36% (Pittsburgh) to 85% (Miami-Dade) non-white, non-Hispanic. Both the mean and median for racial diversity are just over 60%, indicating that these cities tend to be quite racially diverse. This may indicate that CEDAW campaigns in diverse cities have a higher likelihood of being successful, but additional research is needed to confirm this finding.