The all-too-familiar phrase and hashtag “kill all men” has been recovered in discourse since 2020, being commonly used in radical feminist spaces as a “controversial” expression of frustration against the patriarchal systems that have long oppressed women and marginalized communities. From my experience, as I’m sure with other users, it is more often than not meant as an exaggerated rhetorical tool rather than a literal call to violence. However, some people — often men — seem quick to have taken it literally in both online and in-person discourse, launching the corpus backfire of #NotAllMen.
I’ve come to slowly recognize and deconstruct #KillAllMen. We aren’t going out seeking the carnage of men with our guns ablaze but, rather, we are grabbing the very roots of this just outcry and implementing it to fully eliminate the deep misogynistic mindset that has been embedded in all of us. From this, I have come to realize the conversation must shift toward the interrogation of quotidian and internalized patriarchy rather than rhetoric — we must decentralize men and dismantle very “reflex-like” habits that continue to place men at the center of power, conversation and decision-making, that I and everyone else — even men — are guilty of.
Shockingly, in the context of attending university and as emerging young adults, decentralizing men, from what I’ve observed, stretch over a vast horizon of many common, day-to-day things. Observing and living immersed in college culture provided me with a clear lens through which we all can examine the pervasive need for male validation and how deeply ingrained this dynamic is.
From “hookup culture” stems a trend of not prioritizing female pleasure during sex and comparing ourselves to unrealistic expectations of how we are supposed to “perform” and “satisfy.” Instead of seeking to fulfill our pleasure, we may worry if we are checking the boxes for what an ideal body is “supposed” to look like to be deserving of pleasure. We may place our focus on inflating a man’s ego and making him feel good about himself rather than asking to create a moment that can be shared and enjoyable for both parties, in fear of asking “too much” of him.
Recently, I began opening discussions with friends about how we subconsciously alter the way we dress or act when going to frat parties or bars. We often sacrifice warmth and comfortability in our bodies for the classic tight-hugging jeans and tiny unsupportive tops that neither protect us from the below-freezing Binghamton weather nor reflect our individualistic styles. Even our social interactions and choices outside of our nightlife are influenced by the desire for male approval. We, consciously or unconsciously, in romantic, social or academic settings, often find ourselves tailoring our behaviors to appeal to men. While we may not necessarily need to ask for approval for our grades and right answers in class discussions, we might still change the way we speak to be taken seriously, trying so hard, only to receive less attention than men.
Though these adjustments aren’t institutionalized, the collective centering of men in our everyday agency allows their given power to traverse beyond individual behavior into the structural, reinforcing a societal norm in which male perception is mistakenly centered as the measure of worth and validation.
To reiterate, the need for male validation is not limited to women — I often find that many men also seek validation from other men, reinforcing internal patriarchal hierarchies. This is evident in the way men frequently defer to male authority, such as when we, as women, are completely ostracized or not even acknowledged around a boyfriend and his friends, who often respect the male authority in his group over you, as an individual, and engage in relentless competitive masculinity. Even in simple conversations between many men, you can clearly see the competitive need to one-up each other, presenting women as trophies to one another and prioritizing other male approval over genuine self-awareness.
Niobe Way, a psychologist who studied male friendships and emotional development, emphasizes that male-centered perspectives of “power,” “success” and “masculinity” prioritize dominance and competition rather than meaningful connection. By decentralizing men within their own circles, we can challenge this toxic masculinity and encourage healthier, more self-sustaining ideas of their identities that aren’t at constant rivalry over what is “valid.”
Decentering men in a setting where we all share the common goal of finding who we are and grappling with our changing identities involves fostering environments where our expression, self-worth and decision-making are held independent of male validation. This requires a cultural shift in how we view ourselves concerning men and how our actions are shaped by this ingrained expectation. Ask yourself — am I self-driven apart from how I may appeal to or gain approval from a man?
Michael Kimmel, a sociologist and expert on gender studies, argues that the greatest perpetrator of violence committed by men is not necessarily the testosterone but rather the unchallenged feeling of entitlement that comes with male privilege. The issue is not that men, by nature, are oppressive but that there is this preexisting notion that allows for the abuse of others under the shelter of social norms. To break this cycle, this entitlement must be actively unlearned, both in those who wield it and those who have been conditioned to accept or provide it, challenging not just the existence of privilege but its unconscious integration into identity and interaction.
So where does this leave us? You may ask the same questions I did, such as, what does decentralizing men even mean? The idea of decentralizing men is not about exclusion nor antagonism — it is about ensuring that men do not hold control over your thoughts and actions. Decentering men starts with centering yourself by prioritizing your own needs and desires over the expectations or validation typically sought from male partners or friends, reducing the influence of men in your life and decision-making process and setting boundaries. This inevitably means calling men out when they are clearly out of line — chances are that they have never been told otherwise, and their behavior has never been challenged.
“Kill all men,” although inherently contentious, branches out into a concept that we should all begin to consider, especially in our formative years of young adulthood and even if we don’t endorse the phrase itself. Where would we be if we were to discard the approval of men completely? Perhaps, free from misplaced prioritization and oppressive structures that limit our self-growth and, ultimately, emotional intelligence. It’s about creating a dynamic where men exist as equals rather than the gatekeepers of validation or the measures we use to define ourselves.
But if identity is shaped in opposition to these oppressive structures, are they truly independent? Perhaps the real question is not how we free ourselves completely, but how we reconstruct relationships in a non-oppressive way. Can we engage with men without being conditioned to seek their validation? Can men unlearn entitlement to dominance? The path forward is not in erasing men, but instead, in refusing to be defined by them, drawing a line at the point where we are forging connections that honor selfhood without sacrificing autonomy.
Aislinn Shrestha is a sophomore majoring in integrative neuroscience.
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