You couldn't imagine two high-profile female politicians being axed by their parties so publicly and so brutally within the space of a few days in any other jurisdiction in Europe and there being so little comment on the parallels.
Especially when you consider that both parties concerned - the DUP and Sinn Fein - have a less than glowing record on gender balance.
Perhaps it's because the two women in question, Arlene Foster and Martina Anderson, have radically different political outlooks that few have been struck by the similarities in the swift manner of their departures.
The fact that SF deliberately used the publicity storm surrounding the DUP leader's ousting in a bid to bury the initial news that it had asked Anderson and fellow Foyle MLA Karen Mullan to consider their positions may also have had something to do with it.
Yet though Foster and Anderson arrived in politics by very different routes - the former's father was shot by the IRA the latter joined - their exits are certainly one of the few things they have in common.
For all the high altitude of their standing in their respective parties, they were nonetheless both ousted by the traditional "faceless men", accompanied by the same dark mutterings about restructuring, failure to attract votes and upcoming elections.
The mood music around each woman seems very clear although the specific reasons for each departure remains something of a mystery.
Internal party wrangling seems to have done for Foster, though there's little indication of what a new DUP leader - whoever he will be - would do differently over the Irish Sea border. The party's gagging of both leadership contenders is hardly a vote of confidence either.
Bafflingly, Anderson was asked to stand aside as an MLA, barely a year after being regarded as the very person SF needed to serve as an MLA when her tenure as an MEP ended.
While her party colleague, deputy first minister Michelle O'Neill, was able to condemn misogyny as a context for Foster's fate, she notably failed to blame the same motive for Anderson's departure. Instead, she lauded "the girls", Anderson and Mullan, for "the leadership they have shown in recognising that there was a need for change".
It's not clear how closely O'Neill herself was involved in the decision to remove her two Derry colleagues, though nothing in her public statements has suggested she was a prime mover in such drastic action. Given her own position, that in itself seems odd.
Mind you, Anderson is by no means the first high-profile SF female to exit stage left, perhaps never to be seen in a public role again.
One thinks of former stars like Bairbre de Brun, a well-regarded former health minister and MEP, and Caitriona Ruane, who was Education Minister. For years they were accomplished media performers.
Outspoken, intelligent, visible women, they were frequently cited by SF as evidence of its modernising spirit and progressive approach to women.
Is any party so well-equipped in personnel it can afford to lose such talent? It says something for the discipline within the ethos of SF that Anderson followed orders and stood down. The party's definitely unique in Ireland in that no member ever appears to say boo to its instructions.
Indeed, all things considered, Anderson's resignation video showed flashes of considerable temerity. She described the verdict of the review into disappointing election results as a "body blow", adding that she'd been contacted by "comrades, friends and supporters from across Derry and beyond offering their solidarity and support". The "majority" had "urged me to stay on".
Let me be clear, I vehemently disagree with Anderson's terrorist activities during the Troubles and with her being an IRA cheerleader.
But it's impossible not to reflect on what she gave in republican eyes to the "cause" - effectively the best part of her life - and how walking away from it must be devastating and somewhat humiliating.
Anderson joined the IRA as a teenager; by 18 she'd been jailed on charges of possession of a firearm and causing an explosion. Released on bail, she went on the run. At 24, she was imprisoned for life for conspiring to cause explosions.
Before being released under the Good Friday Agreement, she served 13 years. By her own admission, the experience was gruelling.
While the phrase "career politician" doesn't strictly apply given her IRA activities, latterly there were two decades of work at senior level at Stormont and Brussels.
It's hard to know at which point all that went wrong and we're unlikely to find out.
Yes, holding a hand up at Jim Allister on TV and demanding he "please have a little bit of manners because you're in my face" and telling Theresa May to stick her border "where the sun doesn't shine" were cringeworthy moments. Reassuring Michelle O'Neill that republicans had needed her at Bobby Storey's funeral for "comfort and guidance" played badly too.
There were other serious misjudgments, like that tweet when she claimed a compensation scheme for injured Troubles victims would "discriminate, criminalise and exclude", for which she'd to issue an unreserved apology.
But there wasn't anything that happened recently that hasn't been a feature of her career to date.
And if Anderson's behaviour seemed erratic and tin-eared, one wonders how much earlier experiences shaped her?
While we may expect a revealing memoir from Foster, it is unlikely there can be any such reflection from Anderson. Which is a pity, because her story may help temper the romanticism of a life given over to political causes.
Her exit feels all the more pointed, too, when one considers the long careers enjoyed by male SF politicians like Alex Maskey, Gerry Kelly, Conor Murphy and John O'Dowd.
Perhaps she'll get the sort of afterlife that some others do. For example, Danny Morrison, SF's former publicity director, is a regular on the airwaves, this week discussing the 40th anniversary of Bobby Sands's death.
Maybe SF will put Anderson forward as a media commentator. Since she's given so much to the party, it would seem only right to offer her a soft-landing.
Of course, these are febrile political times. Emerging from a pandemic, the prospect of next year's Assembly elections looms large. The need to get things right is pressing for the two larger parties in Stormont.
Still, can it really be the case that the problems in the DUP and SF are all caused by women?
No doubt in the coming weeks the men in both parties will give us the answers to that.