I Hate Men

by Pauline Harmange

What we want is for men to put their power and privilege to good use: by policing their male friends and acquaintances, for example, instead of explaining to women how to go about fighting their battles.

Of course, men could learn to do it too, but it’s a bit like learning a foreign language: it’s that much harder once you’re an adult, and if there’s already someone there prepared to make the effort to speak the other person’s language, why bother?

If I refuse to grant him the right to be mediocre because he’s a man and that’s what men are like, it’s because I want to grant myself the same respect that I have for all women,

We aren’t hurting anyone when we hate men. And, for that matter, we don’t really hate them, because we’ve all got boyfriends, brothers, fathers, sons, colleagues and friends whom we like and love.

Men always want to find a solution, sort out my problems, rationalise my pain, when very often all I need is a kindly ear and a shoulder to cry on. I sometimes wonder if this male tendency to position oneself as a purveyor of solutions – as a saviour – isn’t in fact an attempt, however unconscious, to get me to shut up.