After Amber Rudd’s admission, Buffy is finally being acknowledged for its influence – even in the most unlikely of places

The work and pensions secretary named the 1990s vampire-slaying icon as one of her role models – reminding us that although the show ended 15 years ago, its message is as timeless as ever

Amber Rudd has described Buffy Summers as her feminist hero. Quite right too. While it’s hard to agree with Rudd that she’s an “early feminist” (Mary Wollstonecraft might have something to say about that), she’s definitely a fantastic role model for anyone who wants to look up not just to a hero but to a champion.

Buffy kicks arse. That is her primary skill – initially her primary function. At the start of her seven-series journey we learn that she is the chosen slayer, and that her role – as defined by ancient prophecy – is to fight vampires, demons and forces of darkness.

But Buffy’s life as a girl and then young woman is just as important to the storylines of the show as her life as a slayer. Her challenges are not too dissimilar from those many women and girls face. There are bad boyfriends, patronising bosses (first Giles, then, when she has won his respect, the Watcher Council), a headteacher who takes a seemingly irrational dislike to her (though actually that’s because he’s in the pocket of the mayor who is also, secretly becoming a big snake demon). These are challenges young women recognise in their lives (except possibly the mayor snake).

Buffy is often explicit about her desire to pummel actual demons in order to take out the frustrations of her metaphorical ones. She is often called upon to be violent and sometimes she relishes that more than the viewer – or her support network – are comfortable with. Buffy is a flawed individual – which is essential to her humanity. Given she comes back to life twice in the show, making her human is a vital part of making her a realistic role model for young girls. Her violence, her occasional flakiness, her darkness and her mood swings are all part of ensuring that what we look up to is not a two dimensional idol, but a fully rounded hero.

However, it might be worth questioning quite how much a former home secretary can really identify with Buffy's "above the law" stance on vigilante behaviour.

It is worth noting that while Buffy is the eponymous hero of the show, there are other powerful role models to look up to in what is essentially an ensemble show. For example, Willow offers geek girls the chance to get their cool on and Cordelia shows us that even “vapid whores” can develop, grow and kick arse. And importantly, the men in the show love the women in their lives for who they are – not who they fantasise they could be.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer finished 15 years ago but its message is as timeless as ever. The message of empowerment underlying the show feels more developed than much that has come since – though it’s influence is obvious everywhere from Jessica Jones to The Hunger Games – (another show referenced by Rudd – unwisely given she's now the minister in charge of universal credit – the Tories' own version) – even the differently empowering Gilmore Girls owes a debt to Buffy’s wisecracking, culture referencing, whip smart dialogue.

What Buffy really fights is expectations. Both those forced on her by prophecy and those enforced by society. She refuses to just be a slayer – she also wants to be a teenage girl. She refuses just to be a teenager – she also wants to save the world – a lot. Buffy chooses to have it all and will fight anyone who tells her she can’t. That’s a message women and girls need to hear now as much as ever.