Patriarchy Dehumanizes Men: A Hidden Struggle in Society

When we hear the word "patriarchy," a familiar image often emerges: men in power, dominating institutions, commanding boardrooms, writing laws. But within this architecture of dominance lies a quieter, more complex truth—one that too often goes unnoticed. Patriarchy doesn’t just oppress women. It dehumanises men.

This is not a call to shift the spotlight away from the critical struggles women face. Rather, it is a plea to widen our lens—to see the full picture of how systems of power shape everyone within them. Because within the patriarchal script, men are cast not as fully human, but as emotionally muted, endlessly strong, and dangerously stoic. And that role exacts a cost—one too few are willing to name.

The Making of a Man

From early boyhood, many men are taught—explicitly or through silence—that vulnerability is weakness. "Man up," "boys don’t cry," "don’t be soft"—these phrases are spoken like prayers, repeated so often they become invisible commandments. But behind those words is a clear message: to be a man is to distance yourself from the full range of your humanity.

Emotions like sadness, tenderness, fear, and grief are often off-limits, coded as feminine and therefore forbidden. Instead, boys are given a narrow emotional palette: anger is acceptable; toughness is ideal; dominance is rewarded. Over time, many men internalise this emotional repression, learning to sever the parts of themselves that society finds inconvenient.

And this repression doesn’t just live in language. It manifests in fathers who don’t know how to hold their sons, in male friendships that collapse under the weight of emotional honesty, in partners who feel shut out by the men they love. The cost of this suppression is not just psychological—it’s physical, spiritual, and deeply relational.

Emotional Starvation and Loneliness

Research consistently shows that men suffer higher rates of suicide, are more prone to substance abuse, and often report feeling lonelier than their female counterparts. Yet these statistics are rarely framed as a symptom of patriarchy. More often, they’re treated as isolated public health concerns, devoid of cultural context.

But they are not isolated. They are deeply systemic.

The inability—or unwillingness—to express emotional pain leads many men into silence and self-isolation. Some suffer quietly. Others lash out. Still others disappear from their own lives, consumed by depression that has no name, because admitting its presence would challenge the myth of male invincibility.

Friendship is another casualty. While women are often socialised to nurture deep, emotionally intimate bonds, men frequently find themselves with friendships rooted in shared activities rather than shared feelings. As they age, these bonds often wither, leaving many men emotionally adrift, unsure how to reconnect.

Performance Over Presence

Patriarchy doesn’t just tell men who they can’t be. It tells them what they must be: providers, protectors, achievers. Value is measured in productivity, strength, and control. Failure to meet these expectations often results in shame, internalised worthlessness, and withdrawal.

This pressure to perform can push men into jobs they hate, relationships they can’t emotionally sustain, or roles that feel hollow and performative. The man who works 80-hour weeks not out of ambition, but out of fear of being seen as inadequate. The father who stays emotionally distant, believing it’s his role to discipline, not to nurture. The partner who feels love deeply but cannot say, I need you, because vulnerability feels like failure.

None of these stories are anomalies. They are cultural templates—scripts written by patriarchy and handed down across generations.

Beyond the Binary: Reclaiming Humanity

To dismantle the patriarchy is not to declare war on men—it is to call them back to themselves.

It is to say: you are more than what you produce. You are allowed to feel. You are allowed to fail. You are allowed to rest.

Reclaiming emotional depth is not just about individual healing—it is about cultural repair. When men are able to feel without shame, connect without fear, and love without armour, everyone benefits. Relationships deepen. Families heal. Communities grow stronger.

We need new stories. Ones where strength includes softness. Where resilience includes rest. Where masculinity is expansive, not limiting.

And we need men to tell those stories—not as counter-narratives, but as truths that have always existed beneath the noise.

A Cultural Reckoning

This conversation is not about blame. It is about honesty.

Yes, patriarchy privileges men in many structural ways. But power, when stripped of humanity, becomes a prison. And many men are locked inside.

Feminist thought has long made space for the idea that patriarchy hurts everyone. But culturally, we still struggle to see that truth. We fear that acknowledging men’s pain under patriarchy will overshadow women’s struggles. But the truth is, compassion is not a finite resource. We can hold multiple realities at once. We must.

Recognising how patriarchy dehumanises men doesn’t dilute the feminist fight—it strengthens it. It makes it more human, more whole, and more transformative.

A Call to Reflection

If you’re a man reading this, ask yourself: When was the last time you were able to speak your fear without apology? To hold another man’s grief without trying to fix it? To admit, out loud, that you are tired of performing?

If you’re not a man, consider how you’ve reinforced the emotional silencing of the men in your life—intentionally or not. Consider how you might help create spaces where emotional truth is welcomed, not ridiculed.

This is not a one-time conversation. It is an ongoing practice—a cultural reorientation toward wholeness.

The Pulse of Change

At The Pulse, we believe stories are sacred. They shape who we are, who we’re allowed to be, and who we might yet become. And in this moment, we need stories that speak not just to power, but to pain. Not just to progress, but to presence.

The hidden struggle of men under patriarchy is not an aside—it is central to the human story. And the more we name it, the more we begin to heal.

Let us write a new narrative—together.