Love In The Time Of MeToo Hysteria–Prophylactic Castration In The Ivy League

Billy Barkstead, upon matriculation at a well-known Ivy League university was given, as part of his entry package, a series of forms, questionnaires, and information bulletins about proper sexual comportment on campus.  He was advised that ‘No Means No’ and that even the slightest, most innocent-appearing, seemingly innocuous sexual reference would be met with trial, judgment and penalty.  Examples were given, a checklist of what not to do in the company of women.  Under no circumstances should a male student make even the slightest reference to a woman’s looks, appearance, clothes, or demeanor; and any such untoward and unwelcome comments would be met with disapproval, censure, and dismissal.

The university had, at the request of its feminist dean of students, supported by her Board of Advisors and the President created what critics called a sexual gulag – a concentration camp within the walls of which no breach of party policy, rules, or regulations would be tolerated.  “We mean business”, Dean Bernstein said in an interview with the school newspaper, “and we will take no prisoners”. 

She meant what she said and encouraged female students to come forward at the least sign of offense.  Any male student accused of sexual impropriety would, ipso facto, be considered guilty until proven innocent and would be suspended.  Adding a series of footnotes to the official university publication on gender issues, she provided clarity to the term ‘offense’.

A look that was more than in passing or incidental could be construed as sexually invasive.  A smile of greeting would not be seen as innocent at all, but a typical male, chauvinist, ruse; a trick out of the discredited past; an obvious, transparent, rude insult. Touching with the possible exception of a brief handshake was considered a thinly-veiled male come-on.  And so on.

The introductory packet included a detailed scenario of possible dangerous sexual encounters, and gave explicit instructions how to proceed in a mutually, consensual, friendship between male and female students (gay sex was treated in a special addendum).  At every step of the way, the male was under strict obligation to ask permission to proceed.  “Is it OK if I ______’ (fill in the blanks).  

There were no instructions for women other than how to refuse male advances.  It was not expected that they would take the initiative; and given the commonly held assumptions about male sexuality – it was by nature predatory, blind, immoral, and ignorant – it would always be the man who would initiate contact.

The Board debated long and hard over the issue of female absolutism – the unequivocal, absolute, irremediable right to physical and emotional integrity  .  There were those who insisted that women were not just sexual defenders and negotiators for sexual favors.  On the contrary, they were as forward, dominant, and pursuing in seeking sexual satisfaction and fulfillment as men.  In fact, since they were considered equal if not superior to men in all respects, then perhaps this entire litany of warnings, do-nots and bewares was illogical and contradictory.  

Why should a strong woman  - “A Hedda Gabler, Rebekka West, Dionyza, Laura, or Goneril”, illustrated one member of the Board – need any protection at all? And the University admitted only strong women, did it not?

Of course she was mistaken, the President averred.  “It’s not that we don’t have strong women here at the university”, she said.  “It’s just that we want to create a hostility-free, unpressured, and congenial environment for women”. In other words, there is no such thing as ‘the occasion of sin’.  A woman should be able to walk into the grossest male fraternity and never have to worry about sexual abuse.  No matter how well-known the reputation of the fraternity; and no matter how drunk or stoned she might be, she is protected.  Any male who even thinks about sex with her is liable to prosecution – a clear, undeniable de facto symbolic castration of male students.  

Without their pestering, unwelcome, puerile sexual advances, the environment for women would be ‘a rose garden without thorns’.   All women’s time could be spent on socializing, academics, and appropriate extracurricular activities.  And men, she joked behind closed doors, could resort to their Five Fingered Bride anytime they wanted.  Which is what they did all the time anyway, wasn’t it?

If the truth be known, most of the women at the university were there to hook up with boys and, if luck was with them, find a partner.  Sex was part of the deal, and nose-to-the-grindstone academics was for nerds.  Moreover, most women were as horny, sexually irresponsible, and devil-make-care as men; and, despite the demurral and outright naysaying of their feminist peers, wanted macho men, not times, ‘Is it OK if I touch you?’ little boys. 

The trick that women at the university had to learn was how to sort out the fearless from the following herd of yes-men; the men who were not afraid to appraise, admire, and respect beauty, femininity, and sexual allure.

The new rules, as much as they were devised to help and protect women, simply made sexual adventure and pursuit more difficult for them.  Since forever, women have been able to deal with sexually obtuse men.  The fragile male ego is easy prey, and a quick kick to the emotional balls was enough to dissuade all but the apes.  The decks could easily be cleared for running and only the best and brightest would be piped aboard.   Not so now when so many men hid in the shadows and looking around corners at women.

The winners were savvy men – those who understood that women wanted sex as much as they did, that a kind, respectful word was the key that opened sexual doors, and that Freud still ruled – Daddy was always in the background, and men had the psycho-social edge.

The calculus had changed to favor the sexual elite – the strong women who wanted no part of sexual formulas, behavioral guidelines, and dormitory nannies and who felt quite capable of hunting down males, capturing them, and using them for pleasure; and savvy males who understood women, their desires, their history, and their politics.

These men have always existed.  In the old days they were the football captains, swim team standouts, rowers, and sons of families from Beacon Hill and Martha’s Vineyard.  They had a sexual imprimatur of the highest, unquestioned order.  

Today’s sexual elite are the socially savvy – the men who can see through the fanfare and fol-de-rol of feminist cant and imposition, who understand the sexual nature of women, and who have learned the art of negotiation and victory in a feminist time.

They do not feel sorry for the castrated majority, the sexually beaten, the fearful. They are the new lords of the manor, seigneurs ruling hundreds of sexual serfs.

Their women, the Ladies of the Manor, are imperious and dominant.  They have no use for the faux feminism of the indoctrinated. 

So the university gulag is not entirely incarcerating.  Most of the students, men and women go along with the prison guards, the indoctrinators, and the internal enforcers.  They march when told to march, turn off their lights at lights out, act dutifully and punctually, and keep their eyes down.  The elite few, the sexual libertines, freethinkers, and new wave of sexual counter-revolutionaries hardly know they exist.  They are the hollow men, the insignificant men, the school’s detritus.