This article seeks to answer the following questions: What does it mean for a society to be patriarchal? How does a patriarchal mindset shape our gender roles from childhood? How does this mindset manifest in close relationships? Why is there such a strong attachment to “performative masculinity,” even though it harms both men and women? In addition, it offers some reflections on how some use religion to consolidate and entrench traditional gender roles; why many—especially men—resist alternative gender roles so strongly; and, last, but not least, why “de‑patriarchalization” is necessary—what it means, and what it requires.
The patriarchal mindset permeates our upbringing, our family dynamics, our romantic relationships, and the way we present ourselves. The patriarchal social structure creates a common framework for the genders, but it affects them differently: more leeway is often granted for men’s behavior than for women’s, men’s needs are prioritised over women’s, and men’s mistakes are more readily justified than women’s mistakes. In reality, this imbalance benefits no one—neither men nor women.
Gender Roles in Patriarchy: Men Worth More than Women
In a patriarchal society, the standard assumption is that men have more “natural” authority than women, solely because they are male. They also have more latitude than women throughout life when it comes to morality. If a man is aggressive, this is seen as a sign of strength and leadership, and if he grants himself rights without asking anyone, this can be mistaken for confidence. If he is unfaithful, other men may see him as particularly “potent,” and his wife is expected to be grateful that she is married to a man whom women flock to. When conflicts arise, the social order often bends or adjusts in favour of men rather than holding them to account.
Conversely, if he fails to fulfil his role as a strong authority figure at home and in public, he risks being labeled a “weak sissy” or outright a “loser”—the worst thing that can happen to a man who believes he only has value if he is seen as a “real man,” and who invests almost all his self-worth in that basket.
As previously mentioned, women do not have as much leeway as men. Women’s unpaid labour and care work are regarded as a given—if not an outright obligation. It is simply expected of women that they are always ready to care for others, that they are always sexually available, and that they are always ready to forgive. These are services that men expect to have access to without having to give anything in return.
Conversely, if women do not want to provide these services and do not conform to this role, they are demeaned and judged as “unfeminine hags” whom no one wants and “threatened” with ending up as lonely “cat ladies.”
As a starting point, the social narrative centres on men. Family and others help to reinforce this narrative from early childhood, for example by describing boys’ mistakes as “just a phase,” as “mischief” (“that’s just how boys are”), or by protecting boys as if they were merely “misunderstood geniuses.” While similar behaviour in girls and women is typically subjected to much stricter scrutiny—or is pathologised outright. If a girl/woman does not follow the patriarchal narrative about how a woman should act, then she is deemed “not in her right mind.”
In short, patriarchy offers men not only practical advantages, but also a ready-made interpretive framework—a narrative that praises and encourages men’s impulsiveness and supplies excuses and rationalisations for the harm they inflict on others. Meanwhile it is usually women and children who must put up with and pay the price, when men act irresponsibly—an irresponsibility, that patriarchy somehow allows them to maintain without having to face the consequences.
The Upbringing Feedback Loop: Mother, Family, and Partners
The relationship between mothers and sons is often marked by double-binding—i.e. conflicting demands from the surrounding world placed on women. These conflicting demands are implicit—she isn’t always aware of them and may even deny that they exist. She simply feels that no matter how well she tries to play her role, she almost always ends up with the responsibility and the blame when things don’t go well for the sons—or for the family as a whole. If boys are unruly, the question is often: Where is the mother?! Not: Where is the father?
The mother does a great deal of emotional labour. She protects, soothes, smooths things over, and covers up her sons’ mistakes, even as her power is limited. Patriarchy casts mothers as stabilising caretakers for the male ego rather than as authority figures who can require boys to take responsibility for their own behaviour. As mentioned, the blame is always hers. If she sets boundaries, she may be labelled “too controlling” or “cold”; if she tries to appease her son, she risks being accused of supporting patterns that shield him from consequences.
Others in the family and circle of friends also shield boys from feeling the consequences and help protect the boys’ reputation: their mistakes are minimised and/or excuses and rationalistions are invented; boys’ traits are elevated as special gifts; and boys learn indirectly that love is about performance. Older people talk about all the opportunities boys have and confirm the idea that the world makes room for them
At the same time, their female relatives are expected to adapt to men, give way to them, and help them. Boys are not expected to yield to girls or provide the same support to girls. This helps normalise the often unequal distribution of power and labour in many homes. The same pattern continues in romantic relationships and partnerships.
Many women are socialised to believe that peace and harmony are closely tied to adapting to men—first to father and brothers, then to boyfriend and husband. Men can interpret this as confirmation that they are superior to women and thus have the right to rule over them. Patriarchy elevates feminine gentleness and service-mindedness as virtues that men can exploit, further strengthening men’s sense of entitlement and the expectation that women should comply with and honour them. Together, this mindset cultivates men who expect to avoid consequences and to be served by women.
There are many advocates for the patriarchal narrative and the gender roles it prescribes. Consider, for example, someone like Andrew Tate and all his “trust-me-bros” and “pickup artists” on various misogynistic podcasts. Or the Christian nationalists/MAGA in the USA, whose demands on women in many cases closely resemble the Taliban’s demands on women in the extremely patriarchal Afghanistan.
Men Are Also Objectified in Patriarchy
In a patriarchal society, women are not regarded as equal to men. Men are simply the “default” gender, while women are seen as “auxiliaries” and as objects for men’s satisfaction. In the eyes of patriarchal men, women have value only if they ensure that a man’s needs are met—be it the need for care, for something beautiful to look at, for sexual satisfaction, or as a means of producing offspring.
But what we often forget is that men, in fact, are also objectified—not by women, but by the patriarchal power elite, which sees men as tools to be used for various purposes. The elite exploits the patriarchal ideal of masculinity to recruit young men who “buy into” this ideal, where masculinity is measured by men’s willingness to enter the military, to fight, and to sacrifice themselves for the nation. Men who refuse military service are shamed as “unmanly.”
The patriarchal masculinity ideal thus suits the power elite well. The elite praises and works to constantly uphold and reinforce the notion that military service is a manly feat—a rite that makes boys into “real men.” In this way, young men are pressured to go “voluntarily” to war, even though it may cost them life and limb. They must accept being used as interchangeable, disposable instruments of violence. The serious psychological wounds this inflicts on these men are downplayed, because it is expected that men should simply be able to handle it—because men must not be weak. The result is that men are dehumanized, which is a high price to pay just to receive the power elite’s blue stamp of approval that they are “admirable, real men.”
Why Men Are Drawn to Strong, Independent Women
So what happens when a patriarchal man meets an independent woman who won’t play by the rules of the patriarchy and won’t be controlled by the patriarchal narrative—the man’s “script” for how a woman should be? It can easily turn into a dramatic encounter.
If a woman sees through the male masquerade and sets boundaries, the man’s limitations may be exposed—and with them, the risk that the vulnerabilities in his identity also come to light. A woman and her resistance can thus be a great threat to him, and subsequently a great danger for her as well. Her defiance can ignite him in two ways—either he hates her guts vehemently right away, or he becomes fascinated by her, because the hard-won “victory” over an independent woman carries the possibility that his strength and potency will be even more validated (by other men).
Within the patriarchal framework, this becomes a symbolic struggle. “Defeating” a woman who resists, bolsters and justifies his self-image. At the same time, the independent woman functions as a “stress test” of his reality. If she refuses to play along with his narrative or fantasy, then his own prowess and the superiority he imagines himself to have may be punctured. To try to win her over can be especially attractive to him because if he manages to conquer and “dominate” her, he gains the ultimate proof of how “strong” he is—and a confirmation that he is a “real man.”
When he Fails to Conquer Her: Blame and deflection
But if he does not win, it feels like a huge defeat. And fascination quickly turns to contempt. If being dominant is the core of a man’s identity, he can scarcely attribute his loss or failure to himself and his own limitations; no, the blame must be shifted elsewhere. Misogynistic narratives provide him with ready-made explanations and excuses: she is “cold,” “manipulative,” “seductive,” or “not feminine enough.” By projecting his own disappointment onto her, the man diverts feelings of shame about his own inadequacy away from himself and can thus maintain his façade.
At the same time, he receives support from the culture he lives in. His environment backs him when he interprets women’s boundaries as their defect, moralises their rejection as heartlessness, or pathologises women’s desire for autonomy. In this way, responsibility is shifted away from him, validated by the social chorus around him that repeats his lament.
The patriarchal narrative about masculinity has been propagated and repeated for so often and for so long in our culture that many men have come to believe this learned ideal is what a man “naturally” is, despite the fact that there are countless men who do not fit at all into the mold the patriarchy tries to force men into. Furthermore, if this kind of masculinity was so “natural” as some claim, they would not have to force it on so many people.
Performative Façade as a Necessary Armour
The patriarchal ideal of masculinity prescribes that men should strongly resist achieving self-insight and understanding of their own emotions—and certainly not put them into words. That is reserved for women. The patriarchy, on the other hand, rewards men when they display “bravado”—domination and overconfidence—and even violence. The only permitted emotional expression is aggression. This encourages men to compete and strive to surpass others in many areas of life.
To a very great extent, men look up to and praise other men who radiate great authority, are aggressive, and appear very masculine, thereby encouraging one another to cultivate this ideal. All the grind—the many hours in the gym—is presumably endured less to impress women and much more to impress other men (especially the father). And recognition from other men also weighs far more heavily than women’s recognition of the efforts these men make.
This form of masculinity is a “mask” they put on, and one they hardly ever dare take off again—that is, a more or less constructed facade that they struggle to build and maintain. Therefore they can’t stand other men who don’t do the same, and so they police each other by shaming those who won’t play along. In this way, they keep one another in check, locked into this masquerade.
Patriarchal Masquerade Kills
The mask become an ‘armour’. When you have always been told that this is how your value is measured, and you see how others react if you take the mask off and don’t live up to the ideal, then it becomes necessary to constantly wear the mask and perform this gender role.
This ‘armour’ functions as a bulwark against shame, against the fear of being labeled a loser and—God-forbid—a “feminine weakling”. For the patriarchal man, it is crucial to armour himself so much that he avoids the dangerous and sobering realisation that he’s not nearly as impervious or invulnerable and hardly as self-reliant as he pretends to be, but is perhaps quite sensitive and dependent on other’s help and validation. Without his armour, a man risks confronting his own vulnerability, which he has learned throughout his upbringing to view as a defeat he should be ashamed of.
Moreover, a self-reinforcing spiral comes into play. A man’s experiences from childhood onward prove to him that bravado pays off—people yield, women adapt, the family forgives. This narrative, repeated and confirmed again and again throughout his life, tells him that it is both psychologically risky and unwise to put down the mask. For him, the mask is not merely ornamentation but a supporting element in the development of his self-image as a man.
Precisely for that reason, it can be extremely dangerous to try to tear off a man’s masks—and to make him litterally “lose face”. A man whose deepest fear is having his vulnerability exposed—because society has taught him that the worst thing a man can be is “weak”—may become extremely aggressive if someone tries to take off his mask, because he has built his whole identity on this façade. He may become very violent—even kill someone—in a desperate attempt to preserve his mask and regain dominance, even at the risk of severe punishment. He may even choose to end his own life rather than face his own vulnerability.
Unfortunately, there are countless cases of men who kill a partner or a relative—the people closest to them, who know their innermost sides best and are therefore the most likely to expose them. And we also see it in larger contexts: how quickly governments—most often those with a male majority—can reach for weapons when they believe their “honour” has been damaged.
Religion as Armour: Motives and Ambivalence
For some men, religion/faith can provide the reassurance that they can hold on to and preserve their identity when their self-image, which they prize so highly, has been wounded—by rejection, by failures in relationships, or by threats to their status. Faith provides narratives, rituals, and community that can soothe their guilty conscience without requiring them to change themselves completely—especially if they become part of a particularly patriarchal congregation.
At the same time, a religious environment can give them a new stage: new audiences, clear gender roles, and a new retelling of the past—“I was lost, now I am found.” In the worst case, this becomes moral whitewashing, where the narrative gets a new label while the old pattern of male dominance is maintained.
The ambivalence is real: a turn to faith can be emotionally sincere and at the same time function as a performance—a role the man plays according to the religious “script.” The decisive test is not the strength of the feeling but the willingness to take responsibility: Does the man truly cultivate empathy? Does he accept others’ boundaries? Does he repair harms he has caused? Can he tolerate losing control at times? Or does he merely use religious language to claim moral authority, to manage and control others—especially women—and to secure submission?
Signs that the role is mere performance rather than genuine change include, for example, swift moral certainty without self-reflection and self-reproach, increased judgementalism rather than humility, the denigration of women repackaged as religious doctrines, and testimonies that elevate his hero status rather than his responsibility.
Defending Against Alternative Gender Identities
Patriarchal masculinity is a social ideal that emphasizes that the man has dominance and control over women, that he is heterosexual, and that he is emotionally restrained. In a patriarchal society there is a clear gender hierarchy: men over women; “real men” over other men. The fact that gay and trans people exist can be experienced as a threat to this ideal, because it is thought to erode one of the main pillars of the masculinity ideal.
According to the patriarchal narrative, men are to have the roles of providers, protectors, and authority figures, while women are to have the roles of subordinate assistants and caregivers. Same-sex relationships reveal that it is possible to have other role arrangements and that the traditional binary—authority/care—is not biologically tied to sex. If masculinity does not require dominance over women (or over other men), masculinity can be reimagined anew, and the new ideal can, for example, center on ensuring mutual benefit, caring for one another, and empathy—values that the current patriarchal ideal often devalues.
The fact that there are several ways to be a man/person (gay, trans, bisexual, non-binary) indicates that masculinity is culturally constructed and mutable. This reduces the credibility of claims that the patriarchal ideal is timeless or biologically determined. Patriarchal culture often controls men’s behaviour with homophobic slurs and accusations (e.g., “he is not a real man”). But if homosexuality is normalised, these tools lose their sting and their hold on people, and this is a major challenge to conformity—the striving to make everyone more or less the same in order to get people to adapt to the patriarchal, binary ideal.
In some patriarchal societies, emphasis is placed on men having control over women’s sexuality to ensure their paternity, inheritance, and the family’s honour. Non-heterosexual relationships move outside these control mechanisms, and the very existence of non-heterosexual sexuality challenges the logic of traditional ownership and inheritance relations. Emotional openness and mutual interdependence are often stigmatised in the patriarchal narrative, but they are visible in many non-heterosexual environments and offer alternative ideals of what “strength” is, where vulnerability also has a place.
The Common Thread: An Adapted, Performative Patriarchy
Across family, romance, and faith, the same pattern can be recognised. The man governed by a patriarchal mindset seeks stages where he believes he will receive the most honour—as the ruler in the family, in a relationship with a submissive partner, and/or on a religious platform. He plays the role of the superior one, expects to be respected and validated, expects people to yield and adapt to him, feels like a failure if he does not achieve this status, shifts blame when he encounters resistance, and changes stages when the old one no longer gives him the affirmation he wants. Without genuine introspection and a real willingness to change, only the stage is changed—the performance remains the same.
When you see society, gender roles, and relations between the sexes through this lens, the patriarchal narrative and its patterns in our behaviour are revealed; much falls into place and suddenly makes sense; and it becomes easier to articulate many things that previously seemed vague or incomprehensible.
Why the Patriarchy Should Be Dismantled
The patriarchy is a social structure where men—especially certain men—hold most of the power and control most of the resources across family life, culture, the economy, and politics. Arguing for dismantling the patriarchy isn’t “anti‑men” rhetoric; it is pro‑people rhetoric.
Here’s the essence of why it’s a smart idea to dismantle patriarchy:
The main reason is simple: it secures real equality and fundamental rights for everyone, not just for powerful men. As it is, rhe patriarchy locks in unfair rules, blocks opportunities, and reduces safety for women, girls, and gender‑diverse people. It normalizes discrimination in laws, policies, and everyday habits, and it leads to higher rates of harassment, coercion, and gender‑based violence. The system is upheld by both subtle and direct threats that silence people and narrow their choices.
The patriarchy also harms men. Expectations that a man must play the role of “a real man” narrow his options, shame his emotional honesty, and keep him from doing care work or seeking help. This shows up in higher male rates of suicide, substance misuse, and risk‑taking—linked to stigma around vulnerability and relational care. Fathers and boys who want to take on more caregiving are stigmatised as well.
The patriarchy is, not least, bad economics. Pay gaps, leadership gaps, and barriers in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) waste talent and drag down productivity. Unpaid care work—mostly done by women—keeps everything running but is rarely counted. Health also suffers: women’s needs are under‑researched, their pain is dismissed, and access to reproductive care is blocked, while men are pushed to ignore problems, skip therapy, and take on too much overtime, which shortens their healthy years of life.
Democracy weakens when power gathers at the top. Concentrated power breeds corruption and weak institutions, while diverse leadership delivers better decisions, more innovation, and stronger crisis response. Culturally, the patriarchy’s rigid stereotypes box people in, narrowing learning, career paths, creativity, and science. Inclusive cultures, by contrast, open the door to new ideas and better problem‑solving.
The myth that “the patriarchy is natural” doesn’t hold up. Human societies have been diverse throughout history. Cooperative and egalitarian structures have existed alongside hierarchical ones. And what is widespread is not necessarily right or best. Another myth is that dismantling the patriarchy would harm men. On the contrary. In practice, men would benefit from more emotional freedom, healthier relationships, safer workplaces, and shared norms around caregiving.
Changing attitudes is crucial, but on its own it isn’t enough, because the patriarchy is also structural—embedded in laws, pay systems, parental leave, safety nets, and representation. Culture and structure feed each other. Dismantling the patriarchy means replacing an unequal system with fair rules and everyday norms that help everyone thrive. It is both cultural and institutional. What’s needed are better laws and policies, fairer workplaces, stronger education, smarter health systems, and more equal relationships. The goal isn’t to swap who’s on top, but to distribute power so that autonomy, safety, care, and opportunity are standards—not privileges.
Taken together, these shifts replace scarcity and domination with shared responsibility and shared progress. That means real choices around work and care, safety and dignity in both private and public life, and the freedom to contribute without being trapped by the outdated “scripts” of the patriarchal narrative.
The bottom line is that dismantling the patriarchy expands everyone’s freedom, safety, and opportunities. It trades zero‑sum power for shared influence and mutual well‑being—leading to stronger families, healthier communities, a more dynamic economy, and more humane lives for people of all genders.
Changing Attitudes: What Genuine Development Requires
Weaning oneself off the patriarchal mindset—“de‑patriarchalisation,” so to speak—cannot be measured in declarations, only in deeds.
It’s necessary for men to dare to drop the facade and show vulnerability, and for more men to see and acknowledge that the patriarchal mindset—that men should dominate women and others they deem inferior—not only harms those people, but also harms men themselves. It prevents them from expressing their true, authentic “self,” and from learning to put words to their feelings—such as shame, fear, and a sense of being constrained—and it leads them to unfairly offload responsibility for their emotional lives onto women, who end up carrying the full burden for both genders as emotional service providers.
It is necessary for men to stop assuming greater entitlement than others and instead putting the common good first. This means that a man can respect a “no”—respect others’ boundaries and accept that he has no entitlement to others’ bodies, compliance, or respect; but must earn that respect.
With the transition from spending energy on seeking admirers to taking full responsibility for one’s own behaviour, there should be a willingness to repair the harm one has caused others, to tolerate losing face, and to let women’s perspectives and experiences stand as they are without turning them into material or tools for yet another “project” aimed at boosting ones own ego.
Finally, the narrative “rebranding” must be replaced by a genuine structural change. That is, the shift in the balance of power must be measurable; the decisions the man makes and his emotional labour on his daily “stage” must show that it is not only the story that has been somewhat rewritten, but the entire play itself.
For now, the key to real change largely lies with men. The question, then, is how many men wish to challenge patriarchal gender roles and behaviour patterns. If they do NOT want change, is it because, after all, they still have so many advantages from the patriarchal society as it currently is that they do not want to share them with others? Or do they really feel there is a war against them?
There isn’t a war on men. There are people speaking out against discrimination against women and/or minorities in society—because far too often you see people openly using derogatory terms about these groups. No one is, for example, trying to stop anyone from being straight; they just want people to stop being assholes to others. If you’re not an asshole, then congrats—it’s not about you. Call out shitty behavior when you see it. That’s the whole point of the movements against discrimination.
