Are you a victim of the male loneliness epidemic? If you’re a woman, the answer is probably yes. If you’re a man, no, you’re not. “Male loneliness” comes in a neat little red-pill, a poison prescribed by men, for men. When it doesn’t work, the nearest woman gets blamed, despite the fact that she’s been stuck holding the antidote the whole time, offering advice on how to build actual human connections. What a bitch for trying to cure you, right? 

If you’ve been orbiting the internet long enough, you’ve heard about this oh-so-creatively named epidemic. If you haven’t, congratulations on still having nerves intact. According to Google (that ever-reliable doctor), male loneliness is the rising tide of isolation among men, supposedly fueled by economic pressures, changing gender dynamics, and masculine norms that frown on vulnerability or intimacy. 

When I first heard about this “epidemic,” I admit, I felt a twinge of sympathy. What a sad headline. These poor souls! Whatever shall they do? Perhaps, maybe stop treating women like vending machines that dispense sex in exchange for a quarter of kindness. Or, wild idea, try operating without ulterior motives. Or even scarier: actually express emotions instead of bottling them until they explode. In other words, engage in the radical act of being a human being.  

Ladies and ladies, I blame The Matrix. As I previously stated, male loneliness comes in a neat little red-pill. In online subculture, “taking the red-pill” simply means choosing the painful truth rather than a comfortable lie. It means believing that society is against men and that feminism, shifting gender expectations, and modern social norms have given women power and advantages at the expense of men. Therefore, men are the victims. Women, we have to stop calling ourselves delusional, it’s unfair to men, they’ve clearly won that title, and we have to let them win something.  

Andrew Tate is the prime and extreme example of how “red-pill” ideology is packaged, sold, and mainstreamed. Apologies, I should’ve slapped a trigger warning on that name. (If you haven’t heard of Andrew Tate, serious question: is your world’s sky bluer, do the birds sing louder, and is your serotonin supply still intact?) Tate is a self-proclaimed “alpha male,” a man who is hyper-masculine, sexually dominant, and emotionally untouchable. (Not.) His popular podcast Tate Speech can be boiled down to one charming mantra, and pardon my French: “Get money, fuck bitches.” In that order. Tate preys on lost men trying to find themselves, pumping their skulls full of supposed cure-alls for loneliness: wealth, which buys you elevated status, which finally earns you women. Needless to say, Tate believes that if you’re lonely, you just don’t have enough money or status; you’re not successful enough. Work harder and buy his “Hustler Academy” courses, follow his foolproof formulas to escape that crushing feeling in your chest. After all, don’t you trust the alpha-male with 21 charges against him for human trafficking, controlled prostitution for gain, bodily harm, and rape?  

Let me be clear: I don’t believe Andrew Tate or the Matrix’s red-pill metaphor singlehandedly caused the male loneliness epidemic, but they are prime examples of how men keep swallowing the wrong medicine and then wondering why they still feel sick. In the end, it’s not women, not feminism, or even society. Male loneliness is the consequence of not listening to women, which we are painfully used to by now. The apparent lack of introspection and self-reflection indicates they cannot stand listening to themselves either, so I don’t feel insulted anymore when I recommend therapy to a man and he says it’s “wallowing in the problem” rather than overcoming it. In the end, it’s men doing what they’ve perfected over centuries: not listening, blaming, and most of all: bitching.