We Make Money Off Of Your Mansplaining Comments
Maybe I can convince you to better utilize your time, even if it’s in my best interest not to.
Why is it that most writers on Medium know without a shadow of a doubt that if they publish a piece that mentions men in any way, shape, or form, there’s a significant chance it will skyrocket in views?
No matter what the work is actually about, if there’s even a touch of criticism or opposition aimed at men, it will surely be labeled as “man-bashing.” Make any general claim about a man and watch the reads and comments pour in.
I could be wrong, but from my corner of the internet, I don’t see this happening at the same rate when it comes to articles about women.
Varying from strange commentary to vitriolic harassment, the comment section can be an intimidating place for a female writer. I’ve been writing about feminism and gender issues for about a year now and have seen my fair share of sexist male commentators. They genuinely used to give me anxiety.
That was until I realized something quite amusing.
In the time that these angry men are stewing in that ferocious hatred of my views, allowing me to take up space in their minds as they think of something “clever” to say…they remain on my article.
At best, this counts as reading time. Even if I’m wrong about that, — has anyone actually figured out the algorithm yet? — readers are always going to be drawn to articles that have busier comment threads. Hateful men are basically promoting my work for me. Adding another comment to my thread makes it appear controversial and helps with curation.
In other words, these guys make my article look juicier. Thanks for the boost, my dudes!
Because most of us writers can make money through these male-accountability articles, as I like to call them, it’s not necessarily always a testament to the quality of our writing if they go viral.
I’m aware of this. I’m not claiming to be a genius here, but I certainly know how it works.
In one of my latest pieces, I discuss personal experiences I’ve had with men as a woman who loves to wear makeup. Come to find, many other women seemed to have similar experiences. What do you know?
One of my main points was to delve into why men tend to unfairly judge women who wear bold makeup. I made general statements based on my lived experience as a woman and years of listening to the stories of other women.
But ultimately it boils down to my opinion. Yup, it’s an opinion piece.
In my article, I stated that men who think they are above the women who choose to express themselves with lipstick or eyeshadow are not worth knowing.
What I absolutely did not say was that men who prefer a natural look on women are horrible misogynists.
I said, several times, that men have their preferences and have a right to them. I just don’t want to know these guys or hear them speak on a topic they don’t understand.
Although these men most likely wouldn’t want to know me either, seeing as I confessed my love of makeup, it seemed that my little old opinion ruffled the feathers of these cosmetic experts. The article was posted in February and it’s still circulating almost as much as it was its first week.
I receive a handful of new comments on a weekly basis — you guessed it — mostly from hateful men.
Although I knew there was a risk of receiving some hate, the overall response was shocking. A majority of male readers felt they just had to let me know I’m wrong for having my own preferences that don’t include them. The preferences that they advocated so strongly for in the thread. The preferences that they’re allowed to have for the non-makeup-wearing beauties.
This right to judge someone’s character doesn’t apply to me. I must accept this type of condescending man.
My thread is filled to the brim with gendered insults, casual sexism, man-bashing accusations and tons of mansplaining about how my victim of the patriarchy mindset is the reason I’m so miserable and mentally ill.
And I bet every single one of those men who made a comment truly thought they were doing something. They felt empowered to press enter.
But — they always completely missed the point. They were all so focused on how much it hurt to have their views challenged by a silly woman who writes about silly beauty products. And a lot of them were so furious they couldn't even articulate a single coherent thought. Many times I wondered if these commentators even read a word before submitting their contributions.
One of my favorite writers, Sanni Lark, recently wrote a piece about a comment she received from a man who decided his emotions were her responsibility. He accused her of being a troll simply because he didn’t like her stance.
Really? Calling her a troll under her own article? Oh, the irony. The unadulterated hypocrisy!
“The faceless men who make illogical, emotional ass comments and cross their fingers, hoping that I will read and respond to their nonsense, is the reason why I have the following advice for women:
The world is not running out of men. We are filled to capacity and then some. You do have the option of swallowing.”
She describes how she always gets these ridiculous diatribes under her work. Usually, she doesn’t read them because they never make sense or add anything meaningful to the discourse.
Sanni writes beautifully about her personal experiences and opinions. She supports her opinions with evidence from the world around her. That’s how writing works. There’s nothing to debate, yet her comment sections are filled with men who really try it. Where does this audacity come from?
When you log in to Medium, you are bound to come across many opinion pieces. I’ve found that there are a lot of people that don’t know how to read or process these correctly. Luckily, there are these things called headlines that pretty much tell you whether or not you will agree with the writer’s opinion.
Well, a lot of us tend to hate-read. Sometimes we purposefully click on a piece because we so strongly disagree with the headline. We often feel the urge to head straight to the comment thread to vomit our hatred all over everyone.
Of course, this comment doesn’t add anything of substance because of its complete saturation in bias and lack of critical thinking. We didn’t even give the writer the baseline respect of reading it. We just automatically assumed they were the stupidest writer ever.
The funny thing is, in this scenario, our comments say nothing about the author. They say a lot about us.
Because — as much as we swear we are — we aren’t commenting for other people. We’re selfish creatures. We do it to make ourselves feel better. To get something off of our chests.
Hate-comments are the most childish way for us to take out our frustration. We feel like we’re putting them all on to someone else. It’s catharsis. It’s an ego stroke. It feels marvelous for a good minute and then… empty. We don’t actually get anything from it. The frustrations stay within us and simmer until our next outburst.
I’m saying we because I’ll admit I’ve hate-commented many times before. Who hasn’t, right? I tend to do this more often when I’m depressed or unfulfilled in life or if I have a lot of extra time because I’ve got nothing else going on. That’s the reality of the situation. We all have our ugly moments.
However — TW: general statement coming up — this behavior is most commonly and consistently exhibited by men online.
This week I read a piece by Lilith Helstrom describing a common patronizing comment she receives from men whenever she has the audacity to state an opinion and exist as a female.
“You have failed to argue your point.” Argue? Her point?
It doesn’t matter that she’s never stated her opinion as fact. A woman making any claim that threatens a man will incite this twisted emotional reaction that he will then proceed to project onto her. He just has to make sure she knows her opinion is less.
Less? According to who? Sara Bareilles sang it best with her iconic line, “Who made you king of anything?”
“If you don’t agree with me on something, then just tell me why you don’t agree with me. Saying something to the tune of, “I don’t agree with you” is wasted words. It doesn’t add anything to the conversation. It’s lazy.”
The behavior she describes is completely pedestrian, as she says. But because men tend to believe that their opinion is above that of a woman’s, they usually feel justified in their decision to talk at or down to them rather than start a meaningful conversation.
This can honestly be said about anyone of any gender. If you enter a conversation assuming that your own opinion is superior, you are not only hindering your own ability to grow, but I’m also willing to bet that people avoid talking to you on a daily basis.
Nobody wants to be friends with a ‘splainer of any kind.
This way of thinking is especially problematic when it comes to discussing art, which is subjective. But these men don’t even know how to consume and discuss art correctly unless it’s a work that correctly reinforces everything they’ve ever experienced.
The men who make these comments can’t seem to understand that they are telling on themselves. They are making it painfully obvious to almost everyone that they are insecure about something that was in the text. Red flags are going off in everyone else’s mind as they smile with smug satisfaction.
As these men rage-type at their computers or calmly text on their mobile app while they shake their heads and cock a condescending brow, their words are helping to prove many of the points that feminist writers highlight. It’s a shame these men never actually read them.
No matter how much they huff and puff, they are only contributing to the evidence we continue to gather.
It seems the men who hate-comment under the articles of female writers do not value their own time and energy, or they believe that putting a woman down is a great way to spend their resources.
Screaming through your keyboard just to tell me that my opinion is meaningless and yours means more because you’re you and I’m me is complete madness. It also sounds like a cry for help.
Think about how miserable this guy must be if the highlight of his day is to announce on the internet “Men opinion good. Woman opinion bad.”
This is why these comments don’t really affect me anymore. I can’t help but see through them! If they do, it’s only for a second when I chuckle because I made a penny or two off of them. It’s sad that this is what humanity has come to.
Seriously. Nuance. Not everything is a matter of who is right or wrong.
Responding to my opinion piece based on my life experience with your opinion based on your life experience could result in a wonderful conversation where we both come away learning something valuable.
That’s in an ideal world. It rarely happens on here with men, but when it does, it makes me incredibly happy. I love having conversations with men about my work. I’m forever curious about their opinions. I want to hear about their reactions to the female perspective.
This is why I love writing, and why I thought readers loved reading. The opportunities to become enlightened can be endless if you open your mind and allow them to be.
If you want to tear down my writing because you think it’ll negatively affect me or change my mind — well, you’re wrong. You’re a minor inconvenience at best. You’re a quick yet painless eye-roll that I just wrote an essay about and will make money from.
Like it or not, that’s a win for me.
You spend god knows how long typing out an incoherent and hateful tirade, and you’re not even getting paid for it!
As Sanni put it, “You are beneath me.” Literally. This is my work. My page. My territory. You are coming to me, and commenting beneath my words. Because you would never say it to my face. I’m surprised to witness such submissive behavior from you manly mansplainers out there.
If you hate progressive and empowered women, you probably don’t want us to earn any more money, right? 85 cents to your dollar is good enough, right? Well, it’s time for you to sit with the fact that you’re helping all of us when you choose to comment.
Feel free to let me know your thoughts on that idea in the thread below!
To comment, or not to comment? You know you want to…
You just can’t help it, can you? Please, be my guest!
Thank you for reading! What did you think? Leave a comment below. To support my work, consider buying me a cup of coffee!