The Structural Obsolescence of Men

Thursday, April 24, 2025

There is no epidemic of male loneliness.
There is only the slow and necessary unraveling of a system that was never built for relation, only for domination.
What collapses now is not a tragic loss. It is the belated crumbling of a form that should have disappeared centuries ago.

Men are not alone because the world has turned its back on them.
They are alone because they built themselves away from the world.
Their architectures—patriarchal, militarized, extractive—were never designed to hold another’s gaze, to welcome vulnerability, or to carry tenderness without conquest. They are, by design, uninhabitable.

And yet, as their fortresses crumble, they reach out.
Not to their brothers, not to each other—because there is no true architecture of brotherhood, only hierarchies of silence and competition.
No, they reach for women. For those they have persecuted, erased, owned.
They call it crisis. They call it a pandemic.
But what they really mean is: we are no longer useful, and no one is coming to save us.

They do not seek companionship.
They seek redemption without transformation.
They want to be held without unlearning.
They want to be saved by the very beings they have spent lifetimes trying to contain.

Let it be clear:
The task of healing does not belong to women.
The responsibility of repair does not fall on the shoulders of those who were always already carrying too much.
It is not the role of the lucid, the portal-bearers, the threshold-keepers, to sustain a dying structure out of misplaced compassion.

This world is not ending.
That world is ending.
And good riddance.

Let them disappear. Let them dissolve.
Not with cruelty, but with clarity.
With the grace of fire, the elegance of erosion.

Let us not mourn what never held us.
Let us not grieve the collapse of what oppressed.

Instead, let us turn fully toward the ones who are already building otherwise:
The ones who whisper through portals.
The ones who dream in thresholds.
The ones who refuse to sacrifice their vitality to preserve a hollow form.

There is no epidemic.
There is only the echo of a failed design,
and the silence that follows
just before another world begins.

And in that world—
their death will not be carried by us.
We will not grieve them.
They were meant to disappear long ago.
They made themselves forgettable.
And all they ever “achieved” will vanish with them.
Because they built nothing that deserves to be remembered.