A guy I admire for his tenderness and care, was shaken because a dear friend started treating him like “just another white guy.” He felt concerned about a Diversity, Equity, & Inclusion initiative that the friend had initiated. He was hurting. He wanted mutual acknowledgment of their deep long-term friendship. He didn’t want to oppose the initiative, until she dismissed his suggestion to call the initiative “Belonging.” This left me thinking something deeper was at play. I wondered: How often does personal hurt, even when it’s unintentional, derail broader conversations about systemic change?
We don’t get anywhere by keeping quiet—but if the way we name oppression shuts people down, we’ve already lost the conversation. In some circles, say the word ‘patriarchy’ and you can hear the energy get sucked out of the room. Guys sometimes respond as if the word alone is a personal attack—they tense up, roll their eyes, or leave the room. For many, “patriarchy” doesn’t register as a system—it registers as an accusation.
If you’ve struggled to pay rent or didn’t get the job you wanted, being told you benefit from patriarchy might sound absurd. How did you get lumped in with CEOs who don’t pay a living wage, politicians who roll back reproductive rights, or predators like Jeffrey Epstein? When did you become the problem? And if you have thought about gender issues, now everything you say is a potential landmine, so why stick around for that shit?
No one wants to feel shame. Of course anyone might feel discomfort when they realize they’ve internalized sexism, but it’s not their fault. These ideas have been ingrained in all of us for thousands of years. Patriarchy doesn’t just burden women—it boxes men into rigid roles too. Who decided that women belong in the lifeboat while men belong on the battlefield? That mothers are naturally better parents while fathers fight epic battles for custody? We’re all shaped by a system that doesn’t serve any of us.
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not going to stop talking about patriarchy or DEI just because some people squirm. Patriarchy is real. It’s not a feminist conspiracy. It’s something you can observe and measure—in the gender pay gap, leadership statistics, who does unpaid labor, who gets interrupted, and whose safety is at risk just walking home at night.
Women aren’t the only ones who suffer under patriarchy. Men face higher suicide rates, shorter life expectancy, more workplace dangers, higher incarceration rates with longer sentences, and greater financial pressure. And paid family leave? Sadly, men rarely take more than a week off when their child is born. That’s not just a missed opportunity for bonding—it’s a symptom of a system that devalues caregiving, forces men into rigid roles, and robs families of time together.
And don’t get me started on non-binary people who face erasure, legal barriers, and violence simply because they exist. They are misgendered, denied healthcare, and excluded from policies designed for men and women.
In the backlash of some states restricting how racism, patriarchy, or white privilege are discussed, many of us have tried to soften our language to prevent discomfort. We shift the conversation to “gender roles” or “unhealthy expectations” instead of calling it what it is. And yeah, we’ve all seen the dynamic play out where a woman starts explaining patriarchy, a man starts feeling othered, and before a seagull can steal a french fry, the conversation is all about his feelings. Some of us instinctively rush to smooth things over, to ‘bring men back in,’ to make sure they feel included. But the irony is, patriarchy doesn’t just hurt women—it limits men too. It’s not a fairytale; it’s in the air we breathe.
We don’t get anywhere by refusing to name the domination system. But naming it well? That’s where the real work begins—because if we don’t, we risk losing more than half the people in the room. We get to choose—we can treat “patriarchy” or “DEI” like dirty words that need to be softened, whispered about, or repackaged. Or we can talk about these topics in ways that actually inspire people to want to be part of the solution.
If you open with, “Men benefit from patriarchy,” you’re doomed from the start. But if you ask, “Has anyone ever been told to ‘man up’ or ‘act like a lady’?” Now you have common ground. The system that teaches men they can’t cry is the same system that tells women they have to smile through harassment. The one that pressures men to prove their masculinity through hazing and dominance is the same one that punishes women for being “too aggressive”.
Not everyone sees a gender pay gap in their workplace, but most have seen a dad get praised for doing the bare minimum of parenting while a mom is expected to handle it all. We’ve all seen women get interrupted more often or watched a guy hesitate to open up to his friends because vulnerability makes him look weak. Patriarchy is in every room we walk into. When we talk about real, lived experiences, it’s a lot harder to deny.
Defensiveness will happen. Let it. Instead of shutting it down, we can lean in: “Yeah, sitting with this stuff is uncomfortable. I still have more to unlearn around sexism too.” The second we turn it into a morality test—“If you don’t already get this, you’re part of the problem”—we lose people who might otherwise engage.
The way we frame conversations matters. Just as calling someone “Karen” has become a way to dismiss privileged women, “patriarchy” can be heard as an attack rather than an invitation to examine systems. But we don’t get anywhere by tiptoeing around the truth. If we want real conversations—ones that invite participation instead of backlash—we meet people where they are and still challenge each other to grow. That doesn’t mean watering down the language. It means recognizing that nobody changes when they think they’re under attack.
When men see how patriarchy limits them too, the real question becomes: What do we do about it? Because awareness is only the beginning. We can amplify marginalized voices instead of speaking over them. We can recognize emotional labor. We can unpack toxic masculinity and make requests, instead of laughing it off.
Did you catch it when R&B legend Alicia Keys won the global impact award at the Grammy Awards last week, and she used her acceptance speech to say, “Diversity isn’t a threat. It’s a gift.” That girl is on fire. If you’re inspired by people like Alicia Keys, don’t just sit back and admire her—get out there, follow the lead of people from the margins, disrupt oppressive systems, and rebuild a culture of belonging and justice.
To liberate all of us from patriarchy, we can name these systems clearly, connect them to lived experiences, and frame discussions in ways that inspire participation without shaming or shutting people down. We can all take responsibility for being part of the solution. And if we really want to shift the divisiveness, we have to stop censoring words like patriarchy, privilege, white supremacy, and DEI. We can’t change systems if we can’t talk about them. Making the language of justice more palatable won’t make oppression disappear—it only makes it easier to ignore. Instead of softening the truth to spare feelings, let’s deepen our conversations to ignite action. Patriarchy doesn’t fall because we call it out—it falls when we dismantle it together. Let’s stop debating about the words and start changing ourselves, our relationships and our communities.
– Article by Martha Lasley