Alcohol was banned to protect women—but it ended up empowering them

In June 1920, The New York Times reported that William Hartman shot and killed his wife, just after returning from a night of drinking whiskey.

It’s impossible to know what led to his actions. But stories like his appeared with disturbing regularity in newspapers during the early 20th century, illustrating the very dangers that Temperance advocates cited when pushing for alcohol prohibition.

(Cheers: Celebration Drinking Is an Ancient Tradition)

“We all know that a lot of crimes occur when people are a little loaded or a little high, because there’s the disinhibition factor,” says Deborah Blum, a Pulitzer Prize-winning science journalist and Prohibition expert. Alcohol consumption has long been linked to increased violence, and studies have historically shown that men are twice as likely to binge drink than women. “So men would become more drunken and abusive and be more dangerous to women,” she adds.

While much has been written about the women who helped repeal Prohibition, less attention has been paid to the complex role women played in its passage. Ironically, the very same legislation that limited their freedoms also opened doors to new forms of empowerment and legal recognition.

“It—in a way—implies that women have rights,” says Peter Liebhold, a Smithsonian curator emeritus. “It was argued by the Temperance folks that great harm was often done to women by men consuming alcohol. By passing Prohibition, it suggests that women have greater value and therefore, should have higher legal standards.”

Though Prohibition didn’t grant women direct rights, the act of restricting something for everyone—rather than targeting women alone—subtly suggested a shift toward equality.

Prohibition’s impact on women

Before Prohibition, saloons and bars were strictly male spaces. In fact, in places like Colorado, it was even illegal for women to enter. But contrary to the intent of the Anti-Saloon League and other “drys,” the ban on booze created opportunities for people who had never been involved in the saloon scene and liquor trade before, especially women.

(Americans knew their booze was poisoned—and drank it anyway.)

“Women were not allowed into the saloons and bars. This was male territory,” says Blum. “They would meet and gather in the bar and make a lot of policy decisions. Women couldn’t even cross the threshold. So, alcohol was part of what was perceived by women as having this powerlessness.”

The booze ban defied societal norms and allowed women to transcend their traditional gender roles. No longer protected from alcohol, women began drinking, serving, and even selling it.

The rise of female bootleggers

As Prohibition took hold, it created unexpected opportunities for women, especially in the underground alcohol trade. Figures like Texas Guinan, a former silent film actress, were scouted by a bootlegger and ended up running some of New York’s most infamous speakeasies.

With a pistol strapped to her thigh and a drink always in hand, she flipped power dynamics nightly—welcoming guests with her famous “Hello, suckers!” More than just serving drinks, she sold defiance—and in doing so, she became one of the first women to profit off nightlife on her own terms openly.

(Humanity's 9,000-year love affair with booze.)

Others like Ether Clark, who was known as “The Henhouse Bootlegger” for famously storing her moonshine stash in her chicken coop, found careers where they’d be otherwise excluded. Prohibition allowed women to bypass traditional gender roles—such as dressmaking or teaching—and enter new, often illicit, fields like running speakeasy kitchens, peddling alcohol, and even smuggling liquor across borders.

But gaining access to these opportunities wasn’t without its social costs. The “lady of the street” label was easily applied to women who deviated from the prescribed norms—whether it was by contracting a sexually transmitted infection, working as a waitress, or, in this case, running a speakeasy. Though accusations of “prostitution” were often more about social control than actual accusations, they served to push women out of spaces of male power.

Still, the secret double life of the “New Woman,”—independent, assertive, and defying traditional expectations—became a key figure of the Roaring Twenties, signaling a broader cultural shift toward women’s independence and self-expression. For example, some restaurants began implementing table service for female customers who would’ve been otherwise uncomfortable with bar-sitting.

But as more women became involved in bootlegging, law enforcement took notice.

Police officers were astonished at the number of women they were suddenly arresting, so much so that they started to treat female criminals differently, often to their advantage. In court, there were accounts of judges letting female criminals off the hook. Catching on to this pattern, the mafia actively recruited women.

(Meet the female sheriff who lead a Kentucky town through Prohibition.)

“Increasing numbers of bootleggers would use women to help smuggle their alcohol as several states had laws preventing male agents from frisking or otherwise searching female suspects,” according to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. “Creating the urgent need for female law enforcement officers.”

And just like that, new jobs were available for women. But this time, they’re legal.

A subtle shift toward equality

Though Prohibition is widely seen as a failed experiment, it laid the foundation for larger societal changes.

For decades, women had been laying the groundwork for this shift. The Women’s Christian Temperance Union wasn’t just an anti-alcohol group, but one of the largest women’s political organizations in U.S. history. For reformers like Frances Willard and firebrand hatchet-wielder Carrie Nation, temperance wasn’t just about liquor—it was a level to gain social power in a society that denied them the vote, protection, and public voice.

When William Hartman murdered his wife in June 1920, the newspaper accounts didn’t ask what she’d wanted or wore, only what he’d done. For the first time in U.S. history, lawmakers started paying attention to the dangers women were facing behind closed doors—and responding with policy. It wasn’t perfect—far from it. But it was symbolic. And in a country where symbolism shapes law, it was a starting point. As a result, Prohibition’s subtle shift toward gender equality laid the groundwork for later advancements in women’s rights, from suffrage to labor reforms, which began gaining momentum in the following decades.

“I think that there was a tectonic shift at the time, and prohibition was part of it,” Liebhold says. “Women start to be recognized in terms of laws, and what follows is a broad culture shift that their place in society goes through. But the journey never ends.”