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“The problem is that female modes of interaction are not well suited to accomplishing the goals of many major institutions. You can have an academia that is majority female, but it will be (as majority-female departments in today’s universities already are) oriented toward other goals than open debate and the unfettered pursuit of truth. And if your academia doesn’t pursue truth, what good is it? If your journalists aren’t prickly individualists who don’t mind alienating people, what good are they? If a business loses its swashbuckling spirit and becomes a feminized, inward-focused bureaucracy, will it not stagnate?”

— Helen Andrews, “The Great Feminization,” Oct. 16, 2025

In 2019, I had a dream about Larry Summers and Harvard that changed the way I look at the world. Larry Summers was standing and giving a speech, like a man, and suddenly this throng of girl professors surrounds him and starts painting his nails. All different colors. And I was screeching and screeching, “No, don’t do it! He must be unfettered in his pursuit of truth!” but it wasn’t working. And I thought maybe they would even start putting lipstick on him. And then I woke up.

Unfortunately, my nightmare was founded in cold, hard reality. Look at the world we inhabit. Harvard under the femocracy cares nothing about open debate and just wants to gossip about Taylor Swift instead. Last year, a girl protester literally threw glitter all over our man president Alan M. Garber ’76. The chemicals in the water are making the frogs into women.

Something must be done.

The girls in charge are leaving their sticky handprints all over this emasculated embarrassment of a university. The Crimson has a female president and these days you never see anyone writing anything controversial. “Prickly individualists?” More like sycophantic swarms prone to mob hysteria. The Lampoon went coed in 1971, and hasn't been funny for fifty years. Coincidence? I think not.

This isn’t about me just being a nonconformist who dislikes groupish dynamics and feels uncomfortable in an era which has largely jettisoned liberal individualism. This is so much deeper than that. It is about how women suck, okay? All women, not just the ones who cut me in line at Berryline.

Think of every American institution you love: Democracy. Quality journalism. Baseball with integrity. Who is the biggest threat to these things if not women?

Once my eyes were opened, I couldn’t unsee the XX chromosomes everywhere. The librarians: all women. The thermostats: eighty degrees in every building. Every twenty-pound weight in the Malkin Athletic Center has been destroyed and replaced with a bullet journal.

She/hers in the SOCH, pressuring the nanny university to make hazing safe again; ladies overrunning Lamont Library, throwing out all the books referencing gender curves in IQ. The new solution to grade inflation is just drawing a smiley face with eyelashes on everyone’s transcript. I tried to talk about two-parent homes in my sociology class and was drowned out by the shrill squawking of innumerable mean girls who, of course, went back to snapping and “Mmm”ing as soon as the girl after me talked about how all the graphs made her feel.

And the boys? Where are the boys in all this? They are clutching their matchas like a lifeline as though it could save them. Their posture is so bad as they cower smaller and smaller to take up less space in Barbie’s world. They are trying to grow mustaches as a last resort. Stay strong, men! Do not lose your spark!

This is not natural.

Harvard’s policies have stacked the deck to stifle competition and let the girls win. Everyone cries about the demise of the “Women’s Center,” but where was the Man Center to provide our boy classmates with much-needed Hot Pockets and Xboxes? Tons of scholarships exist for Women in STEM, but nobody even cares that my Jane Austen class is overrun by frilly Liz Bennets with scarcely a Darcy in sight. And don’t forget our so-called “nondiscrimination” rules: Women can sue their bosses for running a workplace that feels like the Fly Club, but men can’t sue when their university feels like a Montessori kindergarten.

If there is a silver lining in these estrogen-encrusted times, it is that the bros are on their way back, baby. Boy am I excited for the dawning era when he-men will once again run our institutions. I simply adore the way they do things.

Yona T. Sperling-Milner, an Associate Editorial editor, is a junior in Pforzheimer House studying Social Studies. If boys were in charge Canvas would NOT have had an outage yesterday!