Jul 16, 2013
When feminism rewrote the social contract in the 1970s, the goal was to “smash traditional gender roles”. For women, that meant an equal opportunity to compete in education and the workplace, career considerations in addition to/instead of family considerations. “Women’s Liberation”, as it was styled back then, sought to overturn the idea that a woman’s place was in the home in a larger “man’s world.”
What feminism didn’t understand was that overturning “traditional gender roles” didn’t necessarily mean that while Mommy went to the office, Daddy stayed home and cooked dinner. While being a career woman may have seemed the polar opposite of being a homemaker to those women, they did not appreciate that when you speak of overturning “traditional gender roles” to men, the result didn’t mean taking off a tie and putting on an apron.
It meant the choice between shouldering the responsibility of raising a family or . . . not.
Feminism never intended to get rid of marriage, it just wanted a better, more advantageous deal for women. Early feminists couldn’t escape their own idealistic myopia long enough to realize the sophisticated interplay of gender relations was at stake. No one thought that men would stop seeking marriage, stop looking to become husbands and fathers. Early feminists figured that if wives started working, husbands would just naturally just start vacuuming, no big whup.
Only . . . big whup.
It wasn’t about the vacuuming or who wore the apron. Those were symptoms. The problem was that when you go around toppling traditional gender roles, you might want to consider the breadth and scope of those roles before you start feeling all revolutionary. After feminism permanently damaged the American family with the first big wave of divorces in the 1970s the result was predictable and inevitable. Children with estranged, distant, or absent fathers grew up in an atmosphere of undisguised contempt not just for Dad, but for all men, and with a suspicion of all things masculine. That colored two generations’ perceptions about the value of “traditional gender roles” and the idealism of feminism.
Girls during that time period were praised when they subverted traditional gender roles – if a girl went to college, got a degree and a career, and made her mark in the business world, few (except for alarmed grandparents) said anything negative about her choices. But when a boy tried to ignore his traditional gender role – not by developing a burning desire to be a househusband, but by nurturing the idea that he didn’t want to be anyone’s husband at all . . . that’s when we started hearing “Man Up!” and “Grow Up!” and all that other misandrist crap. When boys in the 1980s began edging away from their traditional gender roles, people – even feminists – started getting alarmed.
But you cannot argue that ignoring one’s traditional gender role is a virtue in one sex and a vice in the other, not and be intellectually honest. A male’s traditional gender role was not, as the feminists mistakenly thought, to work while his wife was at home. It was the voluntary acceptance of responsibility for the health, safety, and prosperity of his family. Men went to work not because we enjoyed it so gosh-darn much – those 50s housewives may have thought it was all sexy secretaries and fascinating projects at their husband’s office, but the reality was more grim. The simple fact is that a man works because that’s what he needs to do to support his family.
In “traditional gender roles”, that work was rewarded with the security, comfort, sex, and social approval implicit in Marriage 1.0. After the 1970s, and the fall of Patriarchy 1.0 (Think of Title IX as the watershed) all four of those rewards were in serious doubt for any given man. Being a good provider and a good husband and father was no longer socially approved, comfort and security were made optional by liberalized divorce laws, and sex . . . well, sex went from being a working husband’s solace to being a tortuous minefield of expectations and potential causes-of-action in a future divorce.
When you take away a man’s ability to find reward in his traditional gender role, you should not be surprised when he eventually decides that the unrewarded sacrifice and investment he makes means that the juice just isn’t worth the squeeze anymore. The first generation of boys to grow up in America as children of divorced parents had little incentive to make the investment in family, and most who did found themselves doing so out of cultural inertia more than compelling economics. Subsequent generations of maturing boys have borne that out. Marriage, family, children – all those things that the original feminists felt would just naturally always be there as the context in which they could revolutionize – were not only no longer compelling drives in a man’s life, they weren’t even particularly appealing anymore.
The crux of the issue is concise: Why the hell should we, as men, concern ourselves with a system that has evolved to uniformly punish us for doing what we are told we are supposed to do? If the reversal of gender roles for women means putting career first and family second, then for men the reversal is to put themselves first and put family . . . on hold indefinitely. Because despite what feminism claimed, men and women are fundamentally different in how we perceive and view our world; our values are different and our goals are different. Once you take the idea of family and children out of the equation as a realistic end-goal for a man, then what’s left is . . .
And that’s what brings us here today. Puerarchy is, technically, “rule by boys”. It’s a term I coined (or read somewhere and stole) to describe the evolution of male values and masculine goals toward a more selfish, self-oriented and unashamedly masculine perspective. Taking a cue from feminism, the Puerarchy has abandoned its traditional gender role utterly. Instead of looking for a good first wife and thinking about career achievements the Puerarchy has turned its back on the serious idea of marriage and family in their youth. And that’s a good thing.
I speak from the perspective of a happily married father, which may sound incongruous. I’ve never been divorced, never had a bitter custody battle, never paid alimony. I chose well. But I’ve watched the men around me suffer and fall from one attempt at happiness with a woman after another. With a few gallant exceptions, they came away from the experience embittered, embarrassed, discouraged and disgusted. And more and more, I’ve noted, men have quit returning to the well of their dashed hopes and sought solace instead with the pursuit of their own pleasures and interests.
That includes videogames. That includes porn. That includes easy chicks and internet prostitution and anonymous Craigslist hookups. That includes pizza delivery, 24 hour gyms, Sportscenter, auto shows, gun shows, and Civil War re-enactments. That includes anime and comic books and larping and beer. Oh, dear gods, it includes a lot of beer.
You see, folks, this is what feminism didn’t count on: boys picking up their ball (the one the feminists let us keep) and going home. We aren’t playing anymore. The hell of feminist marriage and a feminist workplace has little appeal for most men, and the smart ones are opting out of the whole sorry mess entirely. Those are the Men Going Their Own Way (MGTOW), fellas who have made the deliberate decision not to marry (or to marry only under very specific circumstances to a highly vetted woman).
You’ll find these guys living out lives of rugged individualism, teaching English in third world nations while banging everything in a skirt, spending their youth catching waves or working on their vertical leap, hunting fishing, fighting and fucking as they damn well please. They have opted out of “traditional gender roles” to the extent that they do not feel obligated in the slightest to consider becoming some woman’s future ex-husband.
Those MGTOW who do marry often find and marry women who wholeheartedly support “traditional gender roles” (as I did), usually women from cultures unaffected by feminism or genuinely repulsed by what it has become. The fact is that some men just like to be married under the right circumstances. And with the advent of the Red Pill Marriage, the Male Action Plan, and learning how to successfully Game your wife, that’s possible once again. But unless you can find a Red Pill woman with whom to share your life, you’re going to be shit outta luck.
So what do you do if you can’t find a worthy woman to be your wife, and you don’t have the drive and ambition to go someplace where they don’t speak your language and the plumbing is medieval?
You do what you damn well please. That’s the essence of the Puerarchy. Members enjoy a lack of social responsibility, obligation and guilt when it comes to their lives. It is, as of this moment, cheaper and easier for a single young man to live a life he enjoys on his own than ever before. A cheap apartment, a big screen TV, a computer, a game system, and local food delivery are the only prerequisites for this course of action; the “bachelor’s life” can get really cheap, if you set your mind to it and your tastes are flexible. Depending on your employment, prospects, and your ambition you can make your lair lavish or crude, but either way it is yours, untainted with feminine sensibilities or feminine guilt.
I know a lot of Puerarchs, some by design, most by default. And I know a lot of women who shake their heads, mystified, when they hear guys talking about life plans that include a tour of all the pro-sports Halls of Fame or the bait-and-tackle shop they want to run someday . . . but no mention of their future wife and children.
“Why are these guys so into their computers and sports?” these ladies ask, confounded. “Why aren’t they asking us out and asking to marry us?”
They aren’t being facetious, fellas, they genuinely are confused. They don’t understand why you won’t “take a chance on love” and hitch your star to the first decent (their idea of decent) woman to come along. That’s how you call them on the Shit Test that is feminism. While they’ve spent their lives overturning traditional gender roles, the moment you start doing so they panic. Making the mistake of thinking that dudes think just like women, they don’t understand why you aren’t in a hurry to pair up, marry off, and settle down. Hell, you guys aren’t even willing to move in together, half the time. What the hell is wrong with you?
That question is the one that looms over this split. “What the hell is wrong with you?” is the feminist go-to answer for any dude they see who isn’t conforming to their ideas of what menfolk should be doing, which is usually providing for some woman or other. It’s male shaming at its most basic if most innocuous. It calls into question not just your masculine preogative to determine your own destiny, it questions your judgement over just what that destiny should entail. Most women, particularly feminists, absolutely loathe the idea of a man making his way in the world without the benefit and expense of a woman’s guidance over his life. The instinct to pair-off eligible menfolk to “quality” single women they know is almost irresistible to most women.
It’s not a moral failing, as some would see it, it’s a product of their biology, as the esteemed Athol Kay terms it, their “Body Agenda”: pairing you off with a lesser female reduces competition in the SMP, improves her position in the Female Social Matrix, and gives her a smug feeling of satisfaction that she has “brought love into the world” by her matchmaking. It’s not a moral failing . . . but that doesn’t mean you have to play. Or should. Consider it an institutionalized biological Shit Test . . . and the proper response to any Shit Test is to stand up to it. That’s what the Puerarchy is.
If I could (and who knows, I might) I would write and issue a “Fully Informed Bridegrooms’ Guide” to spell out exactly what the pitfalls and perils of matrimony are in our society, demonstrating with graph and chart what most of us already suspect: marriage 2.0 is not in a man’s best interest. It is institutionally stacked against him. Barring extraordinary circumstances and a phenomenal woman (rare but not extinct), planning on settling down before you’re 30 should be considered a triumph of optimism over experience.
We few – we determined few – who do roll those dice, no matter how the odds look, do so because we have made a commitment to our families that rivals the determination of a Bull Alpha to make CEO or a Bear Alpha to make Colonel. We have voluntarily left the happy, testosterone-laden environment of the Puerarchy for the rugged life of husband and father. We’re not to be pitied, we’re not to be envied, we’re just pursuing our masculine imperative in a very specific and directed way. We are the new Patriarchy, the Patriarchy 2.0, and we are in a very real way dependent upon and valuable to the Puearchy. Indeed, we can be considered an extension of it.
Simply put, the reason why the Puerarchy in all of its riotous Girls Gone Wild glory is so valuable to the Patriarchy 2.0 is because it acts as a screening mechanism for the near-mythical Woman of Quality. The future Outstanding Husbands and Word’s Best Dads look remarkably similar to the future Chronic Alcoholics and Unrepentant Gamers when in their larval forms. Women who have a consistently difficult time detecting between the two are generally poor marriage prospects. By pumping and dumping every woman you can during your Puerarchy you help detect and reveal character issues and other traits of a future ex-wife long before you are inexorably entwined in her DNA.
That sounds crude and nasty to a lot of women . . . I hope. That’s the point. The worse the behavior of the Puerarchy, the quicker and clearer the reveal. And by mastering good Puerarch behavior, a future Wolf Alpha family man – the current gold standard of the SMP – can successfully hide among his Puerach brethren until such time as he should reveal himself to a Woman of Quality. And when the nascent Prince Charming finally does decide to begin the long, slow vetting process with his future queen, you can bet that his Puerarch pals will have a role to play there, too.
The Puerarchy beckons for us all, and presents an alluring alternative to the drudgery of matrimony and parenthood. It’s the secret treehouse of the Lost Boys, the primal chaos of Lord of the Flies, the camaraderie of a Call of Duty team, the visceral thrill of a nudie bar, the sublime masculine sophistication of the Most Interesting Man In the World’s country villa, the Temple of Doom, Valhalla, and Hooters all rolled into one, where the beer is cold and the nameless chicks are hot.
It’s important to us married men precisely because it does present a pleasant alternative to our daily struggle . . . and it’s always there. Like cable sports or internet porn, the Puerarchy is eternal, 24:7.
The Puerarchy lets us know we aren’t going to be “worse off” if we’re single – far from it. And far from the Patriarchy resenting and resisting the Puerarchy, the wiser among us realize that the Puerarchy makes being married a privilege, not a sentence. When your wife knows you you’re just one text away from an all-night Texas Hold’em-a-thon, then your willingness to watch Glee reruns or other emasculating shit on her behalf becomes a far bigger deal.
Conversely, the Puerarchy should not shy away from the Alpha Dads of Patriarchy 2.0. We’re your brothers, and we can help. We’re who you hold out as beacons of stability to potential girlfriends, proof that not only are there decent dudes out there, but that you know, admire, and desire to emulate them. If you can fake that, you can get laid by the dozen. We’re also good at baling you out of jail, providing character witnesses at trial, and having a permanent address while you go backpacking through the Amazon.
And lastly, we’re proof that male-female relations can work . . . and we’re repositories of how it works. Masculine perspective is enriched by marriage, and while it ain’t for everyone that perspective can inform the decisions of even the most confirmed bachelor. Continuing relationships between Puerarchs and Patriarchs are vital to the pursuit of masculinity for both; as the feminists know when men get together . . . we’re always up to something.
So enjoy, my brothers, the wonderful world of masculine bounty that our post-industrial civilization has provided you. Drink in the beer, smell the nachos, listen to the sweet hum of your videogame console, and prepare yourselves to bang anything that gets within range.
But stay the fuck away from my daughter. We don’t want any unpleasantness. I’ve already got the hole dug. That saves time.
That’s one of those pieces of patriarchal wisdom y’all might want to hold on to.
Ian Ironwood is a professional porn reviewer and author of The Manosphere: A New Hope For Masculinity, Alpha Moves, Playground Rules, The Sky Panthers Argosy (fiction), and The Gentleman’s Guide To Picking Up Women. He lives at Stately Ironwood Manor somewhere in the Land O’ Cotton under his real name with Mrs. Ironwood and the three little Ironwoods in a highly successful 20 year long Red Pill marriage. Envy me, bitches.