Science or Spin? Testosterone, Masculinity, or the Last Gasp of Woke

It’s no secret that men and women are different—but one of the lesser-known differences, and one of the most socially consequential, is found in how each sex relates to their own group.

Women consistently show strong in-group bias. They support each other socially, emotionally, and politically. They instinctively identify with the struggles of other women. This solidarity forms the backbone of movements, activism, academic departments, and public policy. When a woman sees another woman being mistreated, her response is often immediate: “That could’ve been me.”

Men, by contrast, tend to show weaker and more conditional in-group bias. Their loyalty to other men is context-dependent, usually tied to shared purpose or external threat. A man will stand with another man on the battlefield, on the job site, or on the basketball court—but outside of those types of goal-oriented bonds, that sense of male unity often fades.

Why is that?

Part of it is biological and evolutionary. For men, life has always been a mix of coalition and competition. Throughout history, men had to work together in tribes or hunting parties—but within those groups, they also competed for rank, dominance, and access to mates. That means male bonding has always existed alongside male rivalry. The result? Male loyalty is real, but fragile.

Even today, many men see other men as rivals first, allies second. If another man struggles—loses his job, breaks down emotionally, or gets mistreated in a custody battle—he may not get support. He may get silence. Or worse, blame. Because in the male psyche, weakness often reads as threat. It disrupts the unspoken expectation that men must be strong, self-reliant, and in control. In male hierarchies, weakness can be seen as a liability—something that drags down the group or exposes it to risk. And for many men, seeing another man suffer can stir up buried shame or fear about their own vulnerabilities, leading them to distance themselves rather than lean in. It’s not cruelty—it’s biology and conditioning.

This fragile in-group bias creates a massive hurdle for any effort to advocate for men. Men’s rights movements, fatherhood initiatives, male mental health campaigns—they all struggle not just because society ignores them, but because men themselves often fail to show up for one another. And this problem isn’t just internal. It’s magnified by something even larger: gynocentrism.

Gynocentrism: The Cultural Blind Spot

Gynocentrism is the cultural tendency to prioritize women’s needs, feelings, and safety—often at the expense of men. It’s not just a personal bias; it’s institutional, ideological, and deeply embedded in our narratives about right and wrong. From early childhood, boys are taught to protect girls, to defer to their emotions, and to take responsibility for female wellbeing. “Never hit a girl.” “Be a gentleman.” “Sacrifice for your wife.” These messages, ​no matter how well-meaning, train boys to associate virtue with serving women. They are rarely taught to protect or serve each other. This conditioning only deepens with age. In politics, education, and media, men gain status by defending women—not by defending men. A man who speaks up for women is seen as noble and progressive. A man who speaks up for men is seen as angry, bitter, or fragile—even by other men.

In a gynocentric culture—where women’s needs are prioritized and viewed through a moral lens—advocating for women is seen as virtuous, while advocating for men is viewed with suspicion or hostility.

 

“Women’s advocacy is empathy”

When women advocate for women (or when men advocate for women), the culture responds with compassion, validation, and support. It’s framed as morally good, emotionally sincere, and socially necessary. Example: “We need to hear women’s voices.” “Support women’s mental health.” “Believe women.”

“Men’s advocacy is grievance”

When men advocate for men, it’s often framed as whining, resentment, or a push to reclaim lost power. Instead of evoking empathy, it triggers defensiveness, mockery, or accusations of misogyny. Example: “Why are you complaining?” “This sounds like toxic masculinity in disguise.” “You just want to take us back to the 1950s.”

Say the phrases out loud “We need to hear men’s voices“ or maybe “Believe men.“ Can you feel the difference?

 

So the double bind is:

• Women can talk about their pain and gain moral authority.

• Men talk about their pain and risk losing moral credibility.
  
  
  In other words:
  
  If you advocate for women, you’re seen as compassionate.
  If you advocate for men, you’re seen as angry.
  
  That’s the trap—the double bind—created by gynocentrism. So male in-group bias—already fragile—is further fractured by gynocentric incentives.

The Costs of Division

This has enormous consequences.

When a man is falsely accused, other men don’t rally to his defense—they distance themselves.

When a father loses access to his children, he’s often blamed rather than supported.

When men talk about depression or suicide, they’re often met with discomfort, not compassion.

Meanwhile, female solidarity flourishes. Women have entire university departments, legal protections, and billion-dollar initiatives devoted to their advancement. And they have what men lack: a deep, culturally accepted instinct to care for each other.

The result is a lopsided world: female pain is collectivized and acted upon; male pain is individualized and ignored. It should now be obvious that working as a men’s advocate, a fatherhood proponent, or in any male-focused cause is an uphill battle—while those promoting women’s causes are coasting downhill with cultural tailwinds, institutional funding, and moral permission at their backs.

 

Rebuilding Male Solidarity

If men are to thrive—not just as individuals, but as a group—they must begin to reclaim something long buried: a sense of mutual loyalty. A belief that other men are not your enemy. That another man’s pain is not a sign of his failure, but of a culture that has failed us all.

This doesn’t mean abandoning competition or suppressing masculine traits. It means building solidarity around them. Men’s greatest strength has always been in what they can do together—on the battlefield, in a brotherhood, on a team. The challenge now is to transfer that loyalty into emotional and cultural arenas, where men are bleeding quietly in the shadows.

Men don’t need to become women to support each other. They just need to recognize that being on the same team means protecting the players who are getting crushed—by courts, by culture, by silence.

Male pain is real. Male sacrifice is real. Male disposability is real.

But male brotherhood can be real too—if we decide to make it so.

Men Are Good

At a White House Christmas party, President Abraham Lincoln was mingling with guests, exchanging laughter and good cheer. He came upon a group that included a woman known for her biting tongue. Looking at Lincoln’s tall frame, she quipped, “President Lincoln, don’t you find your legs are far too long?”

Without missing a beat, Lincoln smiled and replied, “No, madam, I have always found them jus the right length to reach the floor.”

The crowd laughed, the moment passed, and the party went on. But in that brief exchange, Lincoln showed something important: there are many ways to respond to offense—and one of the best is humor.

Being Offended Is Part of Growing Up

We tend to treat offense today as a kind of harm. But in truth, being offended is part of life—and even more, it’s part of maturity. Boys in particular seem to intuit this. Watch a group of young males and you’ll see it play out: teasing, poking, sarcasm, verbal sparring. It’s not (usually) meant to hurt—it’s meant to test.

And those tests serve a purpose.

When a boy is told he’s stupid, or too slow, or mocked for his hair or clothes, he learns to respond. He might crack a joke. He might sharpen his wit. He might challenge the premise with logic or brush it off with a shrug. What he’s doing is learning to handle adversity—on his feet and with others watching.

It’s practice for the world.

The Skills Boys Learn Through Being Offended

• Humor – defusing tension, maintaining dignity

• Repartee – learning to think and speak quickly

• Logic – pointing out flaws in the jab

• Grace – choosing to let it slide

• Strength – not needing validation to hold his ground

These are not small things. They’re the building blocks of workplace confidence, relational resilience, and emotional independence.

The Cultural Shift: A World Where Offense Is Forbidden

But we now live in a time where being offended is treated as a kind of assault—especially if the offended belongs to a “protected group.” Entire institutions—from universities to HR departments—have adopted the idea that certain people must not be offended, and if they are, someone else must be punished.

But what happens when a group is shielded from offense?

They may never learn to develop the inner muscles that others do. They may never build the grace, wit, or confidence that comes from surviving discomfort. Like the body that withers in the absence of challenge, their maturity is stalled.

In the name of protection, we end up infantilizing them.

The Asymmetry of Offense

Let’s be honest: not everyone gets the same protection. Boys and men are fair game. So are Christians. So are people with dissenting views on political, medical, or cultural issues. These groups are expected—often required—to endure offense without complaint.

Meanwhile, others—especially women, certain minority groups, and favored ideological stances—are shielded from offense. The rules shift depending on who’s talking and who’s listening. But one thing is clear: there is a deep asymmetry in how offense is allowed and punished.

This disparity starts early.

Boys are more likely to be offended because they’re less protected. In fact, they often grow up in environments where ridicule, teasing, and verbal jousting are common—and not discouraged. In contrast, girls are more likely to be shielded from offense. Schools, parents, and media tend to be quicker to intervene when girls are targeted. The result? Boys get toughened. Girls get guarded.

Some call this compassion. But what if it’s something else? What if we’re unknowingly denying girls a chance to build the same emotional endurance we demand of boys?

This has serious implications.

Being offended, and learning how to respond constructively, builds the skill set necessary for leadership. Leaders must take criticism, navigate hostility, and remain calm under pressure. That doesn't come naturally—it comes from experience.

So if we raise boys to expect offense and learn to handle it—but raise girls to expect protection and institutional outrage on their behalf—we shouldn't be surprised if more boys grow into leaders. They’ve been trained for conflict, while girls may have been trained to avoid it.

And here’s the twist: when we limit offending women, we may also be limiting their capacity to lead.

This isn’t about discouraging kindness. It’s about understanding that discomfort is the engine of maturity. If we teach one group to handle offense and deny another that chance, we create a lopsided playing field—not by talent, but by tolerance.

We also send a subtle but damaging message: this group is strong enough to be offended, but that group isn’t. That’s not respect. That’s condescension.

“Offense becomes a weapon, not a wound.”

Traditionally, being offended was understood as a personal emotional response. Someone says something, you feel hurt, insulted, or challenged—it’s unpleasant, maybe painful. A wound. But it’s something you deal with, like Lincoln did, through humor, logic, or resilience.

But in today’s culture, offense is often treated not as an emotional experience, but as a moral accusation.

Now, when someone says, “I’m offended,” they’re not just saying, “That hurt my feelings.” They’re saying:
“You’ve done something wrong, and I now have the right to punish you.”

• Careers are destroyed over tweets.

• Public apologies are demanded for misstatements, jokes, or even factual claims.

• Institutions overreact, fearing backlash—not because harm was caused, but because someone claimed harm was felt.

This turns offense into a strategic tool—a weapon to silence disagreement, gain status, or assert dominance. And here’s the deeper truth: this behavior often stems from an inability to respond maturely to the offending message. When someone lacks the internal tools—humor, logic, composure—they may externalize the discomfort instead. Rather than engaging the message, they attack the messenger.

The more ruthlessly someone wields this strategy, the more power they acquire in certain environments—media, academia, HR departments, online culture. And the more others scramble to appease them.

Society begins to bend not to the wise or the strong, but to the emotionally volatile. This doesn’t promote dignity or equality. It promotes fragility and fear.

Real Maturity: Offense and Reciprocity

True equality means that everyone has:

• The right to offend

• The duty to withstand offense

Lincoln didn’t file a complaint. He didn’t lecture the woman. He made a joke and moved on. That’s what strength looks like.

Conclusion: Offense as an Opportunity

When we forbid offense, we shut down an ancient and necessary process. Human beings grow not by being protected from all discomfort, but by facing it and finding a way through.

Let’s stop pretending that offense is violence. It’s not. It’s a signal, a chance, a test. And if we meet it well—like Lincoln did—we just might reach the floor with our dignity intact.

Men Are Good.

I recently read a New York Times article by Rachel Drucker titled “Men, Where Have You Gone? Please Come Back.” The subtitle reads: “So many men have retreated from intimacy, hiding behind firewalls, filters and curated personas, dabbling and scrolling. We miss you.”

In the article, Drucker shares a personal story about meeting a man named James online. Things started off well—but then James disappeared. From there, she explores her ideas of why so many men seem to be withdrawing from relationships and intimacy.

Here’s a link to the article if you’d like to take a look:
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/06/20/style/modern-love-men-where-have-you-gone-please-come-back.html

I wanted to share two responses to the article—both from men, and both striking in their own way. One is by Jim Nuzzo, my favorite researcher, and the other is by Paul Nathanson, co-author of the most comprehensive and fascinating series ever written on misandry.

Enjoy the creativity—and insight—of men!

First a tweet from Jim Nuzzo.

 

https://x.com/JamesLNuzzo/status/1940296998072226262

Next, a written response from Paul Nathanson that I saw on a mutual mailing list. I think it captures this woman’s ignorance of men and our present situation very well:

This article makes me angry. For many years, I have tried to foster inter-sexual dialogue, a project that seems like utopian science-fiction for the time being. With that in mind, I read the author’s discussion of one woman’s deceptive plea for men to “come back.”

Rachel Drucker claims to understand what drives men away from women. “I get it,” she says. But she clearly doesn’t. Otherwise, she’d be “interrogating” women instead of complaining about men. Listen, I’m a gay man. I’ve never played mating games with women and have no personal stake at all in the rules—old or new. But even as an outsider—or maybe for that very reason—I can see the depressing reality that’s becoming more and more obvious to straight men. It’s true that many men, at least in the most articulate and influential circles, are withdrawing from women. But that’s mainly because women have already withdrawn from men. And no one who reads the Times does so without being aware of its historical and cultural context. For half a century, these women have made it clear that they, as a class, consider men the inferiors of women at best and the evil oppressors of women at worst. In other words, they have indulged publicly in subtle condescension at best—this article being one example—and open contempt or revenge at worst. Consider an article, both famous and infamous, for the Washington Post. In it, Suzanna Danuta Walters openly abandons the most basic moral principle of all by asking, “Why Can’t We Hate Men?” (8 June 2018).

Okay, maybe many men are unaware of what’s going on. They’ve never actually read feminist denunciations of marriage as legalized prostitution, for instance, or as legalized rape. (According to feminist theorists such as Catharine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin, women are incapable of consenting to the sexual advances of men due to the “eroticization of power,” which supposedly makes women capable of sexual arousal only in the patriarchal context of submission to rape.) But most men are indeed aware by now that women have organized themselves politically as enemies of men, at least of those men who don’t convert to feminism (and not even those men deserve redemption according to the woke version of feminism). This hostility is as obvious in the relatively safe context of casual entertainment, moreover, as it is in the riskier contexts of friendships or “relationships” with women. Why would any reasonably healthy man be willing to put up with the lurking possibility of incessant complaining, relentless insinuating or implacable ranting? Enough already.

Explaining the current state of affairs is one thing, and recommending an alternative is something else. I’m not advocating the position of either Men Going Their Own Way (who have reasonable grounds for fearing entanglement with women despite the high cost to themselves) or the “incels” (who cannot attract women and therefore have unreasonable grounds for hostility toward women). I mention all this for two reasons. First, men and women are biologically programmed to unite not only for purely reproductive reasons but also for childrearing purposes. Because no society can endure the estrangement of men and women, reciprocity lies at the heart of any social contract. Second, human existence would be meaningless and unendurable without at least the hope of moving beyond cynicism toward altruism. Striving for reconciliation between any groups in conflict is also, therefore, a moral imperative.

Some women really do “get it” by now. Janice Fiamengo sure does, for example, and she’s not alone. Being explicitly anti-feminist, though, they have a long road ahead. I doubt that I’ll live long enough to see the dawn of genuine inter-sexual dialogue, but I’ll do anything that I can to join them in that effort.

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Thank you Paul and James! Men Are Good!