About male entitlement

Sad. Tired. Mostly furious. 

Like every other person around the world, my thoughts this week have been consumed by the disgusting actions of 57 men. Some have christened them as the “Cornell 7,” but we should all call them what they truly are: The Cornell Rapist and their enablers.

Seven men raped a young woman for 7 hours; 57 others knew about it. Nobody did anything to stop it. The police did not even press charges. Only two of them were expelled, and the rest were allowed to walk away after writing essays. 

The only reason the case reopened was because of Jane Doe’s courage and the student journalist who paid attention to her story when Cornell University and the Tompkins County District Attorney’s office decided to turn a blind eye and enable the rapist, putting young women at Cordell in further danger. 

As women, we have been taught to live in fear, to watch where we walk, cover our drinks, be selective about what we wear, and how we talk. They tried to sell us a lie, told us that if we were careful, if we did everything “right,” men wouldn’t want to hurt us. Somehow, we are the ones responsible for controlling their impulses, minimizing their temptations. 

We were taught to become smaller and take less space because that was easier than teaching men to behave with empathy and respect. They placed the blame on us, instead of holding men accountable for their actions. 

People find it less uncomfortable to question what she was wearing, what she drank, and who she was talking to, instead of grappling with the idea that the society they have built allows men to commit heinous actions towards women and get away with it without major repercussions or punishment. 

We live in a world where abusers get to run for president–and win–, where the punishment for rape is an essay, where people place more blame on the victims, instead of the men who decided they were entitled to women and our bodies.  

Instead of questioning what she did or didn’t do, why don’t we ask ourselves why men feel the need to possess women, what type of content is their algorithm feeding them, and who do they admire to have such awful morals? Let’s examine why none of the 57 members in that group chat did anything to help Jane Doe, and why it took national outrage for the District Attorney to reopen the case.

Instead of focusing on what women can do to minimize the chances of getting assaulted, it’s time to address the real concern: why do men think they can rape and abuse women? What makes them so entitled to our bodies, our attention, our respect? 

All women have experienced the effects of misogy. All women have taken the long way home, crossed the sidewalk to avoid a group of men, or covered their drinks on a night out. 

But rape and sexual assault aren’t isolated acts of violence; they steem from misogynistic patterns deeply rooted in our society. We need to call out even the “small” actions that some consider harmless: the catcalling, the sexist “jokes”, the constant excuses made to justify men, and the countless reasons people find to blame women. These are the foundations of a society that promotes and enables rape culture.

And this is when men will start crying: “Well, it’s not all men.” 

We have heard it a million times. They say it in a slightly offended tone, as if we should take their word for it and believe their judgment about a reality they don’t experience firsthand; our reality.

But rapists and abusers thrive on the silence of the “good guys.” The ones who claim to respect women but won’t stand in the way of abuse, who stay quiet when a friend makes a sexist joke, the ones whose first thought is to blame women for the actions of a man, the ones who get angry when women don’t give them the attention they believe they are owed. 

Your silence isn’t neutral. Your silence enables those who brutalize and assault women. Your silence is why abusers still get to go on with their lives. 

Those who do nothing to stop sexual assault, who passively listen to misogynistic comments without calling them out, those who support known abusers, and those who say “not all men,” are part of the problem. Those trying to dox Jane Doe, who do not believe her story, and who feel like we are “overreacting,” are part of the problem.   

Men should question why they feel such a strong desire to advocate for their sex when talking about violence against women. Why do they want the conversation to revolve around them, instead of a systemic problem affecting millions of people? 

Maybe not all men are abusers, but 57 men did nothing to help Jane Doe. 

Maybe men don’t want to confront their own internalized misogyny because they find it uncomfortable. Maybe they don’t want to challenge a system that will always put them on top. Maybe they still feel women owe them respect, no matter what. And God forbid men don’t get what they believe they are entitled to; God forbid men are ever uncomfortable. 

I am sad, tired, and furious that the responsibility and blame continues to be placed on women, as if we are the ones who cause harm. Instead of teaching women how to protect themselves from men, it’s about time men learn to respect women, to call out misogyny, and to stand up even against their own friends. It is time to hold men accountable for their actions and punish rapists and abusers accordingly, even if that “ruins” their lives.

We deserve to live in a world where we are respected, to walk alone at night if that’s what we want, and to ride the bus without being harassed. We deserve to feel safe at school, at work, and at home.

Women deserve the bright future society considers all men entitled to by default.