Why You Can Call Me a Misogynist: A Defense of Women

Well, ladies and gentlemen, another Valentine’s Day has passed. We’ve eaten the candy, received the kisses (maybe), and eaten enough little, chalky hearts reading “I love you” to be filled with joyous tidings for months to come (Freud would have a field day with that one). Now it’s time to return to normal, old life. Unfortunately back in ordinary time (it’s Lent, but you get the point), those of us giving gifts to and holding doors for our lady-friends might be considered sexists.
Yeah, I said it, “sexists.” We’re the dirty pigs who treat women differently just because, well, they are different. We’re those filthy, kindness-loving misogynists who relegate women to a position of second-class citizenship. In essence, we’re worse than the pro-segregationists of the 1960s crossed with circa 1991 Pee-Wee Herman.

Clearly, I’m building a bit of a straw man, but there is some truth to what I am saying. I truly know people who say not to pay for a woman on a date because it assumes that she is economically dependent on a man; I know others who believe that to hold a door for a young lady is to assume that she is too weak, too squishy to stand alone in the real world. Now, clearly whoever believes that mumbo-jumbo thinks that every woman is Rosie the Riveter and every man is Walter Mitty.

And it is not just a few college students who hold these opinions; last semester a professor asked us to read an article by Hannah Rosin about how the college hook-up culture empowers women. As much as that really grinds my gears, it is symptomatic of the way women are being taught to view themselves. Women are trading in the true independence of things like political participation and freedom of expression for the misguided liberties of yoga pants and Friday-night hook-ups. I have seen Facebook pages devoted to questions of feminism where girls will confess that they are feminists because they want their bodies respected or because they don’t want to be economically dependent on men. News flash, ladies: a human being wants her body respected; a human being wants economic independence. One is not a feminist because she wants her dignity preserved. I would prefer to have the sanctity of my body upheld. Does that make me a feminist? I would prefer to have my own career. Does that make me a feminist? No, that makes me a human being.

And so, I must remind women that they should demand respect as people, not as women. They should view themselves not as a band of sisters, but as a part of our human community. They should let us men channel our inner Occitan troubadour and embarrass ourselves in acts of selfless love (I mean seriously, you do not want to read some of the poetry I’ve written). If believing any of this makes me a misogynist, then so be it. I’d rather be considered a women-hating bigot than buy into false conceptions of dignity and honor. But you know what? I’m probably wrong. Lest we forget God’s Eleventh Commandment, “Thou shalt never pay for dinner for a woman, for her economic liberty is contingent upon her ability to purchase soup at Panera. So sayeth the Lord.”