I do not know if this was just a pithy
response, but responses like this pissed me off so much I thought I was going
to start spitting blood when this Reddit thread first came around a few years
back, and every time this issue comes back. I tried to go to sleep.
But this kept running through my head, so here we are.
And this is addressed to all the redditors
with the hot take that these women were, indeed, just fun-hating, jealous prudes:
You really have no theory of mind when it
comes to women. You think they are just reactionary, shrieking, brainless, pearl-clutching
harpies who hate fun and are only ~jealous~ of their husbands going to
prostitutes. Marital rape was an oxymoron and the husband was within his legal
and physical bounds to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, to his wife
and children. The women had no rights to property, to keep their own wages, to
hold a bank account, and there were few jobs for women other than domestic and
prostitute. Schoolteachers and nurses, aside from requiring education working
class women could not access, were paid a pittance, and in the former case were
required to be unmarried in many places. So the husband was well within his
rights to drink his family wages and leave his wife and children to starve in a
slum tenement, and beat them when they complained. Divorce was no practical
option, especially with children. The entire economic system was, and always
was, set up so that women could not survive on their own, to force them into
providing sexual access and domestic labor to men in exchange for sustenance.
This was the era before antibiotics. Condoms were
of poor quality and rarely used. (As if they could force their men to wear them in the first place; it would be a dreadful inconvenience for their poor dicks.) There was no cure for STDs like syphilis. These
STDs were not only ultimately fatal, in many cases, but caused untold misery the
whole way, and birth defects. And who is caring for the disabled child on top
of her other children? The woman. (Oh, and banish the thought of a safe abortion, or a way for the woman to control her fertility. She was constantly bred because the husband either wanted those children or wanted sex and there was no effective birth control.) The husband would carry STDs from the
whorehouses and give them to their wives. Stopping their husbands from
frequenting prostitutes was not merely an issue of jealousy—it was a matter of
existential survival for these women. Or a way of preventing themselves from becoming
penniless widows. And they knew that most of the prostitutes were not ~independent
working women~ in that era but exploited women, the worst thing you could
become. What awaited you if you stepped out of line. They thought making
prostitution illegal would liberate these poor creatures.
What were women to do? Speak about their sovereign rights? To
speak plainly about the remedies—economic sovereignty, sexual freedom, the
right to divorce and custody and education and standing—would get them laughed
at by men already pissed they had just gotten the vote. So they had to focus on
proximate causes: get rid of the alcohol, get rid of the whorehouses. A paltry,
palliative measure, but what else could they do? They had to dress their
concerns in the raiment of religion, one of the few acceptable fields women
were allowed. Women were tasked the stabilizing force in society, the ones to
marry off unstable, angry young men, absorb their violence, ‘settle’ them and
force them to work a job, and produce the next generation of labor. And with
that came their tasking to be the civilizing force, at that time inextricable
with Christian morality. But there was a material reason behind their proselytizing—there
always is, if you look closely enough, behind *anybody’s*. Sure, there were holy-roller
true believers, but I bet the majority of women (and I must so bet, as history
has seen to it their voices are lost) just wanted the beatings to end and food
on the table, and relative safety from debilitating disease. I bet this because
I see women as rational agents. Humans in an impossible situation, with no
voice, living with their captors.
The factory jobs available to men were miserable, back-breaking
labor, and hardly paid. This was the tail end of the era of radical labor
rights movements, but there was a lot of misery, and those movements were eventually
shut down, especially with the economic desperation of the depression. As it
leads to drug use now in desperate, hollowed-out, post-industrial communities,
so it led to drinking then. And disenfranchised groups have always found a
group even lower on the social ladder than themselves to take out their anger. Women
were always the punching bag and social safety valve. And a drunk, drugged population
is not in much position to organize politically. There were few diversions – no
television, no sports games, no entertainments – to mollify the working classes
after their drudgery, so the bar was an incredibly attractive option. Oblivion
was preferable to going back to the slums with screaming children underfoot in
a filthy, tiny shack and a pissed off wife. Her anger may have been justified,
but in the guy’s mind, she was just the shrew waiting to make his day worse.
And, to those guys with a shred of decency, there was the shame in being
reminded of how poorly his wages kept his family, how desperate and pointless
the struggle, how they were running to stay in the same desperate place with no
hope of advancement. Ashamed, depressed men lash out, even against those who
they feel they have wronged.
The dispossessed men take it out on their women. This
always, always, always happens.
Prohibition did not work. We know that now, with the power
of hindsight. And the social fabric is utterly different, now: while women are by
no means liberated, they can hold property, they can keep their own wages and
assets, they have rights to their children, they can obtain education and jobs.
Divorce from an alcoholic husband without landing in the gutter is a
possibility. But to advance the narrative that prohibition was started by a
bunch of fuddy-duddy no-fun busy-bodies who hated the idea of anybody having a
good time is monstrous and shows only your contempt for women. You cannot know
the fear and desperation of being trapped with a violent, alcoholic husband,
several children, pregnant every year from marriage to menopause, and listening
to your children crying with hunger while waiting for your husband to come back
from the bar. And then you must approach him and ask for money. And you have
nowhere to run. I wager you have never had to bury your own children dead of starvation and the diseases of poverty. There was nowhere for them to turn without you – orphanages a joke, these masses of children from these women who had no power to control their own fertility seen as labor at best and excess humanity, vermin, by most of society. And their alcoholic father would leave them to die while he drinks himself to death. So it’s you or nobody.
What do you do? The possibilities on the outside for you, a fallen, divorced
women, would be prostitution or penury. But you have one bit of power, now – you can vote. And women as a class share your interests. You would be shut down campaigning for full human rights, but if you dress your concerns up in religion, there is a chance.
Of course, a hundred years in the future, men will use this as an example of how as soon as women are able to vote, they ruin everything.
Andrea Dworkin’s Right-Wing
Women is a brilliant and deeply-researched work on the phenomenon of the religious,
conservative woman, and addresses why women are often the enforcers and lieutenants
of religious morality and social conservatism, when it benefits them least. It
is not because they are small-minded cunts with small spirits, any more than
men on the average. There is a material and strategic reason, and the
temperance movement is a perfect example of this. They are making a bargain
within the confines of the tiny shred of power they are given.
And ask, always, before you condemn a group of women as a
bunch of no-fun brainless shrieking reactionaries because they want to take
away your toys: what material, rational reason might here be? Give them at
least the dignity of being considered rational agents before you condemn.
So there’s a known thing in the study of human psychology/sociology/what-have-you where men are known to, on average, rely entirely on their female romantic partner for emotional support. Bonding with other men is done at a more superficial level involving fun group activities and conversations about general subjects but rarely involves actually leaning on other men or being really honest about emotional problems. Men use alcohol to be able to lower their inhibitions enough to expose themselves emotionally to other men, but if you can’t get emotional support unless you’re drunk, you have a problem.
So men need to have a woman in their lives to have anyone they can share their emotional needs and vulnerabilities with. However, since women are not socialized to fear sharing these things, women’s friendships with other women are heavily based on emotional support. If you can’t lean on her when you’re weak, she’s not your friend. To women, what friendship is is someone who listens to all your problems and keeps you company.
So this disconnect men are suffering from is that they think that only a person who is having sex with you will share their emotions and expect support. That’s what a romantic partner does. But women think that’s what a friend does. So women do it for their romantic partners and their friends and expect a male friend to do it for them the same as a female friend would. This fools the male friend into thinking there must be something romantic there when there is not.
This here is an example of patriarchy hurting everyone. Women have a much healthier approach to emotional support – they don’t die when widowed at nearly the rate that widowers die and they don’t suffer emotionally from divorce nearly as much even though they suffer much more financially, and this is because women don’t put all their emotional needs on one person. Women have a support network of other women. But men are trained to never share their emotions except with their wife or girlfriend, because that isn’t manly. So when she dies or leaves them, they have no one to turn to to help with the grief, causing higher rates of death, depression, alcoholism and general awfulness upon losing a romantic partner.
So men suffer terribly from being trained in this way. But women suffer in that they can’t reach out to male friends for basic friendship. I am not sure any man can comprehend how heartbreaking it is to realize that a guy you thought was your friend was really just trying to get into your pants. Friendship is real. It’s emotional, it’s important to us. We lean on our friends. Knowing that your friend was secretly seething with resentment when you were opening up to him and sharing your problems because he felt like he shouldn’t have to do that kind of emotional work for anyone not having sex with him, and he felt used by you for that reason, is horrible. And the fact that men can’t share emotional needs with other men means that lots of men who can’t get a girlfriend end up turning into horrible misogynistic people who think the world owes them the love of a woman, like it’s a commodity… because no one will die without sex. Masturbation exists. But people will die or suffer deep emotional trauma from having no one they can lean on emotionally. And men who are suffering deep emotional trauma, and have been trained to channel their personal trauma into rage because they can’t share it, become mass shooters, or rapists, or simply horrible misogynists.
The only way to fix this is to teach boys it’s okay to love your friends. It’s okay to share your needs and your problems with your friends. It’s okay to lean on your friends, to hug your friends, to be weak with your friends. Only if this is okay for boys to do with their male friends can this problem be resolved… so men, this one’s on you. Women can’t fix this for you; you don’t listen to us about matters of what it means to be a man. Fix your own shit and teach your brothers and sons and friends that this is okay, or everyone suffers.
The next time a guy says, “What? You don’t want to be my friend?” I’ll text him this and then ask if he really wants to be friends or just have another potential girlfriend.
y’all I am living for these analyses where the new way to fight the patriarchy is to teach men to love each other and themselves
Im a communication student and can confirm the above is absolutely 100% accurate and it’s called agentic vs communal friendship theorized by Steven McCornack
And here’s the problem with Centrists — while everyone else is fighting over something that will change the fate of our world for at least several decades to come, they act like we’re disagreeing about a $3 tub of ice cream, then have the audacity to act smug and victorious about their “logical mindset”.
Not just making it illegal, but making being gay punishable with death.
This is one of the many reasons why I walk by every single red bucket in the run-up to Christmas. They’re not getting my money, I don’t care how nice the people ringing bells are.
Ever since the time they threatened to close all their soup kitchens in NYC if a law that did something as simple as allow companies to extend spousal benefits to their employee’s same-sex domestic partners I have refused to buy from them or donate to them.
It’s that time of year again! In case people don’t know… the Salvation Army is shitty peoples.
Also, the married women are not paid (and therefore can’t qualify for assistance if they should ever divorce, etc). And worth “of course” less than a man.
“
In the Army’s case, the agreement for compensation is that the officer allowance be paid jointly to the husband—the check is written in his name. Officially, the wife is a “worker without expectation of remuneration,” and her husband receives 40 percent more of an allowance as a married man than he would as a single man.
Let’s be real. If little girls’ knees, shoulders, and clavicles are a problem for male teachers, you don’t have a dress code issue. You have a pedophile issue.
some stuff isn’t just a trope, you know? in the movies, we’re introduced to women who are “experts” who have trained for years, who live and breathe and are willing to die for whatever the male main character has never even experienced before. and then he takes the reigns and upstages her, instantly, with a little bit of friendly bewilderment because, come on, it’s not antifeminist, he’s just good, he’s standing there having shown he’s actually more powerful than she’ll ever be – and we buy it. and then we go home and when we live and breathe something we still ask ourselves. “am i actually good at this? or is some fool going to walk into this presentation eighteen minutes in and offer a sarcastic and biting correction?” we wait for the man to show up and prove that, despite awards and training and an excellent job position, we’re actually just secretly incompetent.
the trope isn’t just setting up for us “this man is good at what he does” – the fact that the trope demands our male hero upstage the woman says: even an incompetent man will always be better than the best woman. he could have upstaged the sage boss or whatever other male in power exists in the movie. but he doesn’t. he upstages the woman to earn his pack order because she is, intrinsically, the weakest link. the real fight will be man against man. it always is.
and i wish, i wish it stopped outside of the theater. but the number of men who try (gently) to assure me that they’re actually better at what i have multiple degrees and years of experience in – it tells me it worked. men are always looking to be the hero, to interrupt, to upstage, to flip the woman on her back and expose her to all your fellow men – see! for someone who has been doing this forever, she’s just another woman. i am reminded by a man this is called mansplaining. i said “it’s a system of silencing women” and he said, “no, it’s just an accident.” in the movie, he sees himself pointing to my equation on the board, having just walked in. “here’s the flaw,” he says. in the real life, i’m too frustrated to speak. in the movie, he’s inevitably right.
elle woods flipping her hair and saying what, like it’s hard? was a funny line. it’s funny because in every other movie, it’s said by a guy.
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