In a recent essay, Spencer Klavan wrote about the cultural drift from a bemused fascination toward the opposite sex to resentment and dislike. He eloquently describes what this rupture looks and feels like and suggests how we might go about healing its wounds.
“These days, I get the disturbing impression that men and women in the aggregate have the ick for each other. Everyone can cite some things about the opposite sex that they find mystifying and a little silly. ‘Is it really so hard for men to pick up after themselves?’ ‘She’ll tell you about her problems, but she doesn’t want you to fix them.’ These complaints, when made with affection, are actually part of love. Who are these mad and maddening creatures, we are saying, who complicate and yet complete the world?
But recently those very same sentiments have become bywords of inter-sexual warfare. ‘Is it really so hard for men to pick up after themselves? They’ve cheated us out of trillions of dollars!’ ‘Women don’t want to fix their problems: they just want to drain men dry.’
This sounds to me like a society-wide case of the ick. A couple weeks ago, basically every single person on the internet watched a young woman explain that after enough minor disappointments, a girl will simply shut down toward her boyfriend overall: ‘the problem now is that she’s un-attracted to you and just simply does not like you anymore.’
I suspect that video went so astronomically viral because it seems to describe, not simply one failed relationship, but an entire failed social arrangement between the sexes. Online, at least, we have spiraled into making hideous caricatures and impossible demands of one another: never, ever flirt (you slut). Never talk to other women alone (you filthy animal).”
“Getting the ick” is often described as an impulsive reaction of disgust for someone you previously thought you liked. Sometimes it’s the discovery of a behaviour or habit that you find irritating or repulsive. Other times, it’s a trait you once thought cute which is now decidedly un-cute. The ick squelches desire and could lead to the end of the relationship. I think Spencer is right in spotting symptoms of the ick spreading beyond individual relationships to a collective case of alienation between women and men.
Cultural messages emphasizing the “otherness” of the opposite sex often conflate differences with weaknesses or flaws—feeding hostility. Those little digs and jabs—too often repeated—can switch off our compassion for each other. In response to insecurity and hurt, men tend to use aggression and women tend to use emotional manipulation. And this creates cyclical problems both within individual relationships and on a societal level.
Key to getting over the ick is to stop brandishing caricatures that reduce complex people to simple labels like misogynist or radical feminist. Often, such labels are excuses to dismiss someone. Men who populate the manosphere and women who want nothing to do with men are shaped by histories and hurt. What trail of damaged or discarded relationships lie behind them? What stories do their social circles use to fuel their anger?
As Spencer writes, if we give up erecting caricatures and instead listen with charity, we can begin to mend our broken relationships:
“Spend less time grumbling theories about the other person to yourself in the shower, and more time face-to-face with them, listening with charity. Because the secret is that they are neither the unblemished demigod you made of them when you were doe-eyed, nor the incurable reprobate you make of them now that things have gone south. Love—real love, not infatuation—will mellow out slowly in the negotiation between you two as you are: quirky and obnoxious, elegant and strong, trying sincerely to know and be known.
Forming compassionate, tender, generous relationships with the opposite sex can be a balm for past wounds. It sounds embarrassingly cheesy to remember that each of us is someone’s son or daughter, cousin, aunt, uncle, mother, father, or partner. Yet this familial language may help us interact with the opposite sex. Our family may be biological or chosen through adoption, friendship, or marriage. Regardless of circumstances, most of our families include both men and women, offering a difficult and fruitful training ground for learning how to love and work with each other.
No family member or spouse will always love us and value us according to our true worth. Of course, we should direct our energies toward that kind of love. Yet knowing we will love and be loved imperfectly, we still choose to value, respect, and prioritize relationships with family members and spouses. These particular people are the focus of our love—not because they continually earn that place—but due to our commitment to stick with them.
When we invest seriously in our roles as brothers/sisters, aunts/uncles, fathers/mothers, these kinship ties reinforce our interconnectedness and dependence upon one another. By listening to, caring for, and receiving support from the men and women closest to us, we can learn how to relate to our wider communities. And this is part of the antidote to poisonous sex wars.
Important and powerful truths, thanks for sharing.