For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been chipping away at a book called Men Who Hate Women by Laura Bates. To say it’s a tough read would be an understatement. In each chapter, Bates delves into a different male community that centers itself around subjugating, objectifying, or outright hating women–or, as many of its members would say, “females.” These groups range from incels to pick-up artists to men’s rights activists. Collectively, they form what’s known as the “Manosphere,” a term that has only recently entered popular vocabulary but describes an ecosystem that has existed for much longer.
What strikes me most while reading this book is how a single idea–that women are inherently inferior to men–can manifest across a vast range of ideologies and movements. Pick-up artists, for instance, view women as prizes to be won through manipulation and deception, implying an entitlement to our bodies and affection without our pesky autonomy getting in the way. Incels similarly believe that they are inherently entitled to the female body, and harbor deep resentment toward women for “withholding” sex from men they deem not conventionally attractive enough to deserve it. What’s even more troubling is that in each chapter, Bates recounts incidents of violence committed by men within these movements, illustrating how so-called “fringe” ideologies can seep back into the mainstream and endanger the lives of both women and men.
After reading page after page of accounts of male violence, I resist the urge to become cynical. There are good men out there–or at least men who consider themselves to be good. But, there are a few roadblocks that arise when trying to have a conversation with a self-described “good” man about misogyny.
Many believe that being an ally to women simply means not being overtly misogynistic or committing acts of violence. They tend to view gender-based violence as a series of isolated incidents committed by “crazy” or “psychotic” individuals–men who, in their minds, have nothing to do with them. When a new story of gender-based violence surfaces in the media, you’ll often see comments from other men like, “A real man would never do that,” or “That’s not a man; that’s a boy.” There’s a strong tendency for men to preserve a kind of Platonic ideal of the “real man.” By doing so, they separate themselves from the issue entirely—denying any complicity or the responsibility to educate themselves about misogyny and gender-based violence. It’s a classic “No True Scotsman” fallacy. Yet, accepting this line of thinking obscures the deeper issue: that the ideas which manifest as violence against women are conceived, proliferated, and enacted by all kinds of men.
These ideas can’t be dismissed as merely “fringe” or “extreme” when they’re increasingly shaping the attitudes of the general public. There’s been a troubling rise in misogyny among young boys drawn into the manosphere, and growing research now examines how this influence seeps into classrooms–fueled by manosphere figureheads like Andrew Tate. The next generation of boys is being raised to believe that women exist to serve them–that they are entitled to our bodies, our time, and our autonomy. Moreover, they’re empowered to employ dominance and aggression as responses towards women who dare to reject them, and told this is their intrinsic right as a man to do so. This type of misogyny is a lot harder for men to acknowledge or condemn. Many continue to deny or even justify this rising problem, some calling it an inevitable byproduct of the #MeToo era–as if women brought this upon ourselves by daring to come forward with our lived experiences of sexual misconduct and assault. They ask women to take a sympathetic view, to try to understand the frustration of living as a man in 2025. After all, women are more selective than ever: some studies show that women swipe far less frequently on dating apps than men do, creating a highly skewed ratio. Women are raising their standards and, as a result, men are facing rejection on much higher levels and becoming disillusioned in the quest to find a partner. Can’t you understand why this frustration might manifest in extreme, sometimes violent, ideas?
To this argument, I say: although it is frustrating to be rejected, the bottom line is that you as a man are not intrinsically entitled to anything–whether that be time, sex, or companionship–from any woman. Furthermore, it is not a woman’s responsibility to consider a hypothetical man and his hypothetical feelings when exercising her autonomy. Her safety should not hinge upon whether men can handle rejection or not. Men must reframe their relationship with women, moving away from transactional thinking and toward a holistic appreciation of women as complete human beings, with full lives that may or may not include men. Until this foundational sense of entitlement to women is recognized as a mindset that men are socialized into, conversations about misogyny will remain frustrating and unproductive.
It’s easy for men to condemn misogyny when it appears in its most violent or blatant forms. It’s another thing to be asked to turn inwards and examine the internalized patriarchal ideas that shape your thoughts and behaviours. The question is, will men acknowledge misogyny as a pervasive web of ideas that manifests in every corner of our society, or will they continue to separate themselves from the issue for the sake of their own comfort? Until men listen and truly engage with what women are asking them to reflect upon, we remain at a standstill—without confronting the root of misogynistic ideas, there is no way forward for any of us.