Last year, Claire Beaumont, a French author, released a 95-page essay titled “I Dislike Men” (Moi les hommes, je les déteste). Initially overlooked, the book gained notoriety after a government adviser to France’s gender equality ministry, Lucas Dupont, threatened legal action against Beaumont’s small publisher for its title and summary—without even reading the book itself. Dupont claimed, “This book is clearly an anthem of misandry. I would like to remind you that inciting hatred based on gender is a crime! Please remove this book from your catalog immediately to avoid legal consequences.”
It’s alarming that Dupont didn’t take the time to delve into the book before forming such a strong opinion based solely on its title and summary. I can’t help but wonder what prompted Beaumont to articulate her frustrations with men in the first place.
Much of the backlash against Beaumont’s work has come from individuals who haven’t read it. They focus solely on the concept of misandry and overlook the context and rationale behind it. I admit that the word “hate” on the cover was jarring to me. As a mother to a son who will soon become a man, I found the notion of people hating him without knowing him to be quite unsettling. However, after reading “I Dislike Men,” I must concede that Beaumont makes a compelling argument.
Beaumont defines misandry as “a negative attitude towards all men,” which she sees as a spectrum ranging from mere skepticism to outright hatred. She specifically addresses “cis men who have been socialized as such and who reap the benefits of male privilege.” Notably, Beaumont is married to a man whom she loves dearly, and she emphasizes that there are exceptions to her views. Still, she argues that given the disturbing behavior of many men and the indifference of the rest, a general mistrust of men is warranted until they collectively improve their behavior.
In essence, misandry serves as a precautionary principle. After numerous experiences of disappointment and even abuse at the hands of men—especially after absorbing feminist theories on patriarchy—it’s understandable to build walls and be cautious when encountering new men. Beaumont argues that men must exhibit genuine thoughtfulness to earn trust, as the path to proving their worth is not as simple as it might seem.
The statistics supporting Beaumont’s perspective are indeed alarming. In France, for instance, 90% of death threats against partners come from men, and 86% of murders committed by partners or ex-partners are also perpetrated by men. The data in the U.S. mirrors this, showing that 99% of individuals arrested for rape are male. While this does not imply that women can’t commit assault or that men can’t be victims, it highlights a clear trend that points to male aggression.
Smaller everyday issues contribute to this narrative too. Beaumont notes how men often receive unwarranted praise for minimal contributions, while women are held to impossibly high standards. She questions why society finds it amusing when men struggle with simple tasks or avoid their share of responsibilities, calling out the normalization of such behavior.
In one instance shared in a group I’m part of, a woman expressed frustration that her husband continuously bought her red roses, despite her explicit preference for other colors. The comments section was filled with women defending the husband’s actions, labeling the woman as ungrateful because their own partners did not buy them anything. It’s as if women are expected to tolerate unacceptable behavior simply because others endure worse.
Eventually, many of us reach a point where we refuse to excuse such behavior, and Beaumont has clearly reached that threshold. Personally, I’ve found it hard to trust men since childhood. My default expectation of new men is that they will be misogynistic or entitled, and I harbor a lingering fear of potential assault. These feelings stem from personal experiences rather than statistics alone. After enduring various negative interactions with men, I find it easier to keep expectations low and be pleasantly surprised rather than constantly disappointed.
However, I do feel immense joy when I encounter genuinely kind men. My son appears to be developing into one of those exceptional individuals. While I’ve known a few admirable men, even they sometimes perplex me with their obliviousness to the struggles women face.
What I won’t do is lead with trust. Like Beaumont, I will prioritize caution, maintaining low expectations but high standards. I’ve built a protective barrier around myself, letting in only those men who defy my initial assumptions.
Ultimately, Beaumont’s message resonates: it is possible to recognize the good among men while also acknowledging that, statistically, men as a group often fall short. Many women, including Beaumont, are simply tired of waiting for men to do better, and this frustration can easily be misconstrued as hatred.
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Summary:
Claire Beaumont’s book, “I Dislike Men,” explores the concept of misandry and the rationale behind it, drawing on personal experiences and statistics to justify a general mistrust of men. While some critics have condemned the work without reading it, Beaumont argues that many women’s frustrations stem from genuine experiences of disappointment and abuse. Ultimately, she advocates for a cautious approach, recognizing the need for men to earn trust and respect in a society that often overlooks their shortcomings.
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