Listen to a podcast discussion about this article.
There was a time when the battle of the sexes was mostly entertainment.
Katharine Hepburn sparred with Spencer Tracy. Elizabeth Bennet fenced verbally with Mr. Darcy. Harry met Sally. Nobody required a trauma counselor before the closing credits.
Men thought women were mysterious.
Women thought men were idiots.
Both were occasionally right, which is why the stories were funny.
Somewhere along the line, however, we misplaced the comedy and declared war.
I was struck by this while watching a podcast in which a licensed therapist’s social media post was discussed. Her declaration was concise:
“Every single woman has a story of how she’s been harmed by a male.”
It is one of those statements that earns instant applause because nearly everyone knows a woman who has been mistreated by a man. The difficulty is that the sentence sneaks in a second claim disguised as the first. It moves from acknowledging that some men do terrible things to implying that maleness itself is the common denominator.
That is rather like observing that every driver has encountered a reckless motorist and concluding that automobiles are operated exclusively by maniacs.
The distinction matters.
Our civilization has become oddly fond of turning categories into moral verdicts. We no longer say that some politicians lie. Politicians lie. We no longer say that some journalists exaggerate. The media lies. We no longer say that some corporations behave badly. Capitalism is evil.
Nuance has gone the way of the rotary telephone.
The argument followed a familiar path.
The earliest advocates for women’s rights sought equal treatment under the law. Few reasonable people would quarrel with that objective today. Over time, however, the argument drifted. Social systems became the problem. Then the people who operated those systems became the problem. Before long, “patriarchy” ceased being an abstract structure and acquired a human face.
His.
Once every social problem has a villain, life becomes refreshingly uncomplicated. There are victims. There are oppressors. All one needs is the proper uniform.
The difficulty is that the human race stubbornly refuses to remain inside ideological filing cabinets.
The psychologist in the podcast pointed out something familiar to anyone who has ever encountered cognitive behavioral therapy. Human beings are remarkably talented at fooling themselves.
One ugly experience becomes all experiences.
One dangerous man becomes every man.
One frightening encounter becomes tomorrow’s certainty.
Psychologists have impressive Latin-sounding names for these habits—overgeneralization, catastrophizing, confirmation bias. The rest of us simply call them jumping to conclusions.
Here in Beaver County, whose unofficial motto could well be “Divided by its rivers, united by its people,” we somehow manage to live beside one another despite belonging to different political parties, churches, unions, neighborhoods, and rooting for different high school football teams. The fellow waving you through the four-way stop in Beaver or helping push your car out of a snowbank in Hopewell is not acting as an ambassador for the male sex. He’s simply being a decent human being. It would be a pity if ideology persuaded us to mistake ordinary kindness for statistical noise.
If you become convinced that all men are dangerous, you will begin seeing danger everywhere. The husband changing a tire in the rain for his wife. The father coaching Little League. The young Marine carrying supplies into a hurricane zone. The grandfather quietly working a second job to help pay a granddaughter’s college tuition. Somehow these specimens fail to make the evidence file.
Reality becomes an editing exercise.
The consequences extend far beyond bruised male egos.
Relationship expert John Gottman spent decades studying marriages and concluded that contempt is the single greatest predictor of divorce.
Not conflict.
Contempt.
Conflict says, “I disagree with you.”
Contempt says, “I am better than you.”
Once contempt enters a relationship, affection usually begins looking for the nearest exit.
That observation applies not only to marriage but to society itself.
A generation of boys raised hearing that masculinity is inherently suspect faces an impossible choice. Some surrender altogether, apologizing for existing and hoping perpetual agreement will purchase acceptance. Others harden into resentment, deciding that if they are going to be treated as villains, they may as well stop trying to be heroes.
Neither response produces good husbands, fathers, sons, or neighbors.
Nor, for that matter, does suspicion produce happier women.
Living in constant expectation of danger is exhausting. It keeps the mind in a state of vigilance that leaves little room for trust, gratitude, or intimacy. If half the population is viewed as a potential predator, peace becomes almost impossible.
This is not an argument for naiveté. Evil exists. Some men are cruel. Some women are cruel. Police officers, judges, and prison wardens remain gainfully employed for good reason.
Most people simply want to live decent lives, love their families, pay their bills, mow the lawn on Saturday, and remember where they left the television remote.
They deserve to be judged as individuals instead of exhibits in somebody else’s ideology.
Civilization depends upon the ability to distinguish individuals from categories. The moment we stop doing that, every prejudice acquires a respectable excuse.
Perhaps the way forward is not especially complicated.
Judge bad men harshly.
Thank the good ones.
Do the same for women.
It is difficult to hate people once you begin seeing them as human beings rather than representatives of opposing tribes.
That may not satisfy the professional outrage industry.
It does, however, have the distinct advantage of being true.
