I. Introduction
This blog post is written at a moment in time where the outcome of the negotiation process of a binding BHR treaty, originally launched with the UN General Assembly resolution A/HRC/RES/26/9 in 2014 remains uncertain. Meanwhile, the successful conclusion of the treaty-making process would send a key signal in a historical phase, in which, following a surge in global concern around equality, gender and women rights in the 2010s, a populist-conservative push-back threatens a reversal of direction. In a comment published by the Carnegie Foundation on 5 June 2025, Saskia Brechenmayer, Senior Fellow of the Foundation’s Democracy, Conflict and Governance program, remarked in relation to noteworthy populist attacks on LGTBQ groups in the U.S., Argentina and Hungary:
“These are not isolated incidents. Instead, they are part of a new wave of resistance against gender equality and women’s and LGBTQ rights that is sweeping many parts the globe, resurfacing even in countries where cultural battles over gender and sexuality previously appeared to be relics of the past. This oppositional movement is bolder, more organized, and more transnational than in previous decades.”
The intersection of business and human rights has long been a contentious arena, with women’s rights emerging as a critical yet historically marginalized dimension. From the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGP), which were released in 2011, to the pending international BHR treaty, scholars, policy makers and activists have increasingly acknowledged the need to center gender equality in corporate accountability frameworks. In 2022, Melissa N. Handl, Sara Seck and Penelope Simons highlighted the key role that concerns with gender equality and intersectionality should play in the BHR context: “Gender inequality and oppression are a central business and human rights (BHR) issue. While globalization may have increased the formal participation of women in the global economy, it has done nothing to change ‘the underlying patriarchal structures that perpetuate women’s inequality’ and render them susceptible to violence.” Echoing their stance, the Business & Human Rights Resource Centre has identified ‘Five reasons the binding treaty must be feminist.” Our own intervention aims at further illuminating the importance of integrating women’s rights into these regulatory developments, by addressing two key questions: Why have women’s rights been overlooked, and how can gender-responsive reforms in the BHR Treaty address this?
II. The Significance of Analyzing Women’s Rights in Business-Human Rights Frameworks
The integration of women’s rights into business and human rights frameworks is crucial for addressing historical inequities and responding to contemporary societal shifts.
A. Historical Erasure and Systemic Inequality: A Structural Failure
As so often, history illuminates – and, sobers. The industrial revolution entrenched gendered labor exploitation. This legacy persists: the global gender pay gap stands at 17%, with U.S. women earning $0.83 for every $1 men make. Google’s 2022 $118 million settlement for gender pay discrimination—covering over 15,500 women across 236 job titles—exposed persistent disparities even in tech sectors.
Existing frameworks have compounded this erasure. The 2003 Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises with Regard to Human Rights (often referred to as the “UN Norms”) omitted gender-based violence, while the UNGP (2011) failed to recognize gender as a protected category. Even cursory, contemporary analysis shows the degree to which corporate policies reflect this blindness: only 22% of companies translate anti-harassment codes into workers’ languages, and just 5% mandate sexual harassment training for supply chain staff. The consequences are tangible: 24% of working women globally experience workplace sexual harassment, with 72% of affected companies reporting reduced morale and productivity.
B. Urgent Societal Shifts: Movements, Pandemics, and Legal Reckoning
The #MeToo movement (2017–present) mobilized global solidarity against sexual harassment, using social media to amplify survivor stories and drive policy reform. Initiatives like Time’s Up pushed industries to revise anti-harassment protocols, yet legislative and corporate action remains insufficient. Meanwhile, the COVID-19 pandemic laid bare gender economic gaps: 54 million women’s jobs were lost globally, with 58% of informal sector workers—predominantly women—lacking social protection (ILO).
Legal rollbacks add urgency. The U.S. 2025 Supreme Court case Medina v. South Atlantic Planned Parenthood sparked protests over abortion rights, while cuts to Title X and CDC reproductive health staffing threaten low-income women’s access. Black women in the U.S. face a maternal mortality rate three times higher than white women, worsened by systemic data failures. In conflict zones like the Central African Republic, 62,560 pregnant women lack sexual and reproductive health services, with a $14.1 million funding gap threatening support for 70,000 women in Korsi camp.
C. The Pending Treaty: A Critical Juncture for Gender Inclusion
Decades of voluntary corporate measures and “soft law” frameworks like the UNGP have proven inadequate. Developing nations—including China, Brazil, and African states—now lead calls for a binding treaty, citing prohibitive litigation costs and jurisdictional barriers. A unified remedy system could counter home and host states’ protectionist practices that weaken enforcement.
The treaty’s significance lies in its potential to address structural failures in corporate accountability. Weak implementation of existing frameworks continues to leave victims without effective recourse. H&M faced public criticism for failing to ensure back pay for supply chain workers during the pandemic, yet systemic wage theft remains widespread. Current mechanisms lack binding provisions for redress. A 2021 report by the Accountability Research Center highlights the “corporate accountability paradox,” where corporate commitments to worker rights remain largely symbolic in the absence of legal enforcement. Meanwhile, women—who make up a growing share of the global workforce—have been consistently excluded from policy design. The treaty must therefore incorporate gender-responsive due diligence, mandatory provisions on gender-based violence, and protections for reproductive rights.
D. Data-Driven Imperative: Why Now?
Contemporary data underscores urgency. The World Economic Forum’s 2024 Global Gender Gap Report shows slow progress, while the EIGE COVID-19 report confirms pandemic exacerbated women’s economic vulnerability. Despite 75% of companies prohibiting violence, lack of training and studies reveal a persistent economic cost of gender-based harassment.
III. The Debate: Competing Visions of Corporate Human Rights Accountability
The treaty-related negotiations and discussions have triggered deep divisions among states, institutions, corporations and different interest groups. Supporters argue that a binding legal framework is essential to address corporate impunity, especially in weaker regulatory environments. Opponents, however, raise concerns about legal overreach, extraterritoriality, and cultural imposition. This section outlines the main arguments by each side, highlighting their institutional positions and underlying normative assumptions.
A. In Support of the Treaty
Developing countries have long emphasized the structural imbalance in corporate accountability under globalization. They argue that voluntary frameworks like the UNGP, while normatively important, are insufficient in practice—especially in jurisdictions with weak or compromised domestic regulations. A legally binding treaty, from this perspective, would level the playing field by establishing enforceable international standards, empowering host countries to hold transnational corporations accountable. The African Union, for example, supports a continental framework aligning business with social and environmental goals.
The Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) offers a legal-institutional rationale, framing the treaty not as a rejection of the UNGP but as a necessary step toward implementing their core pillars—particularly the right to effective remedy. The OHCHR views the treaty as necessary to give effect to the UNGP’s principles through binding rules.
Civil society groups support the treaty based on evidence of harm to marginalized communities. They see the treaty as a critical instrument for expanding access to justice where domestic systems fail, holding both states and corporations accountable for transnational abuses. Importantly, many of these organizations frame the treaty as a mechanism to bridge the “governance gap” between the global reach of corporations and the territorial limits of states
B. Against the Treaty
The United States have led opposition against the Treaty, raising procedural and substantive objections. Procedurally, it criticizes the negotiation process as lacking the consensus and inclusivity typically required for international legal instruments. Substantively, it opposes provisions that could impose binding obligations on private actors, allow extraterritorial application of domestic law, or create corporate criminal liability for vaguely defined human rights violations. The U.S. advocates instead for more robust implementation of the existing UNGP, which it views as a flexible, business-compatible alternative.
Business actors—particularly multinational corporations and industry associations like the U.S. Council for International Business (USCIB)—echo these concerns. They warn that the treaty could create uncertainty and expose companies to new litigation risks. The departure from the consensual language of the UNGP is particularly problematic, as it may destabilize established frameworks for environmental, social, and governance (ESG) compliance. From the business perspective, a treaty that imposes rigid duties across diverse legal systems risks undermining innovation, deterring investment, and reducing the effectiveness of voluntary best practices.
A third source of resistance comes from states with cultural or religious reservations toward certain human rights norms. Many Islamic-majority countries, for example, have long maintained reservations to instruments like the 1979 Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), particularly where provisions conflict with local interpretations of family law or gender roles. These states view the treaty’s universality claims as a potential infringement on cultural sovereignty. Their opposition focuses less about corporate regulation per se, and more about the perceived risk of imposing Western-centric human rights frameworks in contexts where law and religion are deeply intertwined. This highlights an enduring tension in international law: balancing the promotion of universal standards with respecting legitimate cultural pluralism.
IV. Finding a Middle Ground: A Reasoned Defense of the Treaty and its Normative Potential
The preceding debate reveals not only policy disagreements, but also fundamental differences in how states and institutions conceptualize responsibility, authority, and justice in a globalized economy. A careful examination of both sides suggests the case for a binding treaty is not simply rooted in idealism, but in structural necessity. While opponents raise valid concerns about sovereignty, legal uncertainty, and cultural diversity, many of these objections can be addressed through careful treaty design, normative flexibility, and institutional safeguards. This section offers a reasoned defense of the treaty project, arguing that its normative potential and legal necessity outweigh the challenges raised against it.
A. Why the Treaty Matters
The most compelling arguments for the treaty stem from the growing mismatch between the by now deeply entrenched corporate globalization and the effectiveness limits of national regulation. Victims of corporate abuse—particularly in the Global South—often face weak institutions, corruption, or lack of political will, leaving them without remedy. Soft-law mechanisms like the UNGP, though normatively important, lack enforceable power. A binding treaty would not replace the UNGP, but reinforce them by filling the accountability vacuum they cannot resolve alone.
Concerns about treaty overreach are often overstated. A well-drafted treaty need not impose extraterritorial norms or override national sovereignty. Rather, it can set minimum international baselines—on due diligence, legal cooperation, and victim protection—that states adopt voluntarily. In this sense, the treaty operate as a harmonizing tool, not a hegemonic one.
B. Addressing the Concerns
Claims according to which a human rights treaty would infringe sovereignty must be understood within broader international legal practice. Many existing treaties—on climate, labor, and trade—already constrain state discretion without arguably undermining sovereign equality. What distinguishes the pending BHR treaty here under scrutiny is not the nature of legal force, but the political sensitivity of its subject matter. Yet sovereignty should not be a shield against impunity. International law must challenge systemic violations—particularly those affecting vulnerable populations—within and across borders.
From the business community's perspective, the treaty’s perceived risks include legal fragmentation, compliance burdens, and exposure to litigation. These are legitimate concerns, but not insurmountable ones. The treaty can align with existing due diligence schemes to minimize business uncertainty. Legal clarity may actually enhance stability by reducing risks and fostering responsible investment.
Cultural objections, particularly those raised by some Islamic-majority states, reflect deeper philosophical tensions between universalism and pluralism. While it is essential to respect cultural identity and interpretive diversity, it cannot justify denying fundamental rights like gender equality, education, or protection from violence. The treaty can and should accommodate intercultural dialogue and normative flexibility, but must defend non-derogable human rights norms, without which the regime loses both legitimacy and coherence.
C. The Better Argument
Ultimately, the stronger position supports the treaty—not despite the complexity of implementation, but because they recognize complexity must not paralyze action. Their position is rooted in both normative principle and practical necessity. The global economy no longer maps neatly onto the jurisdictional reach of states, yet human rights enforcement remains state-bound. A treaty would begin to realign this structural disconnect, enabling transnational accountability, empowering victims, and setting enforceable expectations for corporate behavior in a globalized world. While imperfect, it offers the most promising path toward closing the global governance gap and realizing human rights for all.
V. Outlook: Charting a Gender-Inclusive Path for the Business and Human Rights Treaty
Thus, the treaty’s potential to transform corporate accountability hinges not on technical fixes alone, but on whether it confronts a foundational flaw of past frameworks: their failure to center gender, sexuality, and intersectional experience as core to understanding—and remedying—corporate harm. As debates over binding obligations and cultural sovereignty persist, the critical distinction lies in recognizing that “universal” human rights cannot be achieved without explicitly naming how gender and sexuality shape vulnerability in workplaces worldwide. This section argues that embedding feminist and LGBTQ+ perspectives is not an addendum to the treaty, but its essential framework.
A key priority is embedding gender-sensitive due diligence within corporate accountability systems. This includes assessing risks of gender-based violence, wage gaps, and workplace exclusion—especially for women in supply chains or migrant roles. For instance, gender audits in Bangladeshi garment sector revealed major disparities between women’s workforce presence (80%) and leadership (12%), prompting reforms. Moreover, data from the ILO shows most harassment victims never report due to fear of retaliation, underscoring the need for safe complaint systems and gender-responsive grievance mechanisms. These measures go beyond symbolic equality and embed structural safeguards where violations are most acute.
Opposition from the international business community, the U.S., and initial EU resistance highlights challenges. Some governments and business groups resist binding measures. Yet regional shifts—like the EU’s 2024 Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive—signal growing acceptance of mandatory due diligence. A 2021 study reveals Global North TNCs often violate human rights in developing countries, reinforcing the need for enforceable standards.
An inclusive treaty must balance binding obligations with national laws (e.g., France’s 2017 Duty of Vigilance Law) and voluntary codes. Centering women’s rights can address the 17% global pay gap and redress historical inequities. Success requires overcoming protectionism and ensuring developing nations’ voices shape the treaty, as they bear the brunt of corporate abuses. Reliance on “soft law” risks leaving women in the global workforce unprotected.
To overlook these perspectives is to guarantee the treaty’s failure. Gender and sexuality are not peripheral to corporate abuse—they are often its tools: a factory manager denying maternity leave to control female workers, a supervisor weaponizing homophobia to silence whistleblowers, a supply chain that devalues “women’s work” to justify poverty wages. A treaty that ignores this reality will replicate the very systems it aims to reform. Conversely, embedding a feminist and queer framework is not about adding “special clauses,” but about acknowledging how power operates in workplaces worldwide. It is about ensuring the treaty’s protections are as diverse as the people they are meant to shield—and in doing so, finally making “universal human rights” a meaningful promise, not an empty phrase.