From ‘Every Man’ to the ‘Epstein Class’: Misogyny in Male Peer Culture Cuts Across Class Lines

The rich men surrounding Jeffrey Epstein, and the working and middle-class men who were lured into Dominique Pelicot’s twisted fantasy, navigate the social world from very different sides of the class chasm.

But they share something in common, too: They’re all men who were socialized into a misogynous culture that dehumanizes women, turns them into sexual commodities and licenses men to mistreat them.

Misogynous exploitation is not rooted primarily in plutocratic privilege. The sense of unquestioned entitlement to women’s bodies that many observers have noted about “Epstein class” men is hardly confined to the wealthy.

There Is Power in the Word ‘Patriarchy.’ We Need to Start Using It.

News commentators still overlook the obvious when they speculate about why the majority of white female voters in the last three presidential elections cast their ballots for a dishonest, fraudulent, racist, misogynistic sexual predator or why people who call themselves Christians support someone who embodies in virtually every way the opposite of “what would Jesus do?”

I’m tired of snapping at the talking heads on the TV or computer screen, “Come on, say the P word! It’s the patriarchy, stupid!”

We can trace harmful sex binaries, reproductive control and white Christian nationalism back to the same root system: patriarchy. Naming it is the first step toward dismantling its power. 

The Missing Voices in the Epstein Files’ Media Commentary: Sexual Assault Prevention Educators

The Epstein files scandal has all the elements of a gigantic media spectacle. It encompasses everything from true crime to political intrigue, and offers a peak behind closed doors into the lifestyles of the rich and famous. It has more than a little sex and violence. 

It’s a conspiracy theory come to life.

Media commentary has explored seemingly every angle. Or has it? On closer examination, something has been missing.

Lindsey Vonn Redefines The Limits of Possibility 

Last Sunday, I woke before dawn to watch 41-year-old ski legend Lindsey Vonn race Olympic downhill at the Milano Cortina Games—the oldest woman ever to start the event and the first to do so with a knee replacement. Nearly seven years after retiring, she returned to the Olympic start gate with a torn ACL and decades of accumulated injuries, propelled by the same resolve that once made her the most decorated female alpine skier in history.

As I watched her charge down the course, cheered on by teammates, family and a global audience, I found myself asking the same question reverberating across sports media: Could she once again defy the limits imposed on her body, her age and her ambition?

When Vonn crashed seconds into the run, the reaction revealed just how persistent those limits still are. While elite skiers—men and women alike—routinely crash when pushing for hundredths of a second, her fall was framed by some as proof that a 41-year-old injured woman had overreached, rather than as the calculated risk that defines downhill racing. What moved me most wasn’t just the loss of a potential medal but the familiar scrutiny that followed: critiques of her age, her body and her decision to try at all. Her return alone had already stretched what we imagine is possible for women in sport. The fall, though painful to witness, underscored something more enduring—her insistence on defining her own limits in a world still unsettled when women refuse to accept theirs.

The Pathetic Price of Entry to Epstein’s World

The latest batch of Epstein files—over 3 million documents, only around half of what the Department of Justice reports to have amassed—has unleashed a new cast of characters, a list that includes tech titans, health influencers, litigation rainmakers, university leaders, sports executives, Hollywood moguls and international royalty. None of the those named in the latest tranche of Epstein files strike me as people I ever assumed possessed particularly stellar moral character, and their collective fall from grace doesn’t shock me.

But what does turn my stomach is how pathetically small the price of entry into Epstein’s world appears to have been.

The expressions of regret now surfacing—I am ashamed, this is not who I am!—read less like moral reckonings and more like the lament of those who simply got caught.

The emails reveal a tawdry economy of access: absurd favors, crude jokes, dating advice, shared handwringing about #MeToo, and giddy acceptance of gifts—Apple Watches, Prada bags, monogrammed sweatshirts—that these already powerful figures could easily have bought themselves.

Whether any individual named in the files participated in or witnessed Epstein’s crimes is only part of the story. Just as telling is the desperate desire to remain in his orbit—often long after his 2008 guilty plea for soliciting prostitution from girls.

That eagerness to maintain proximity, for so little in return, speaks volumes about how power protects itself—and what too many were willing to overlook to stay connected to it.

When Voting Gets Harder, Women Pay First: The Stakes of the SAVE Act

The U.S. House passed the so-called SAVE America Act 218-213, with lone Democrat Rep. Henry Cuellar of Texas joining all House Republicans in voting yes for the Trump‑backed bill. The bill now heads to the Senate; it reportedly has “nearly unanimous” support among Senate Republicans on the merits, but there is no evidence of the minimum seven Democrat votes they would need to overcome the filibuster. (There is no specific date for a floor vote yet, but Senate Majority Leader John Thune has said the bill will get a vote and that he can move to it “as soon as he chooses.”)

Still, its renewed momentum makes one thing clear: The implications of the SAVE Act for women voters and women’s political representation are no longer hypothetical. They are immediate. 

‘I Needed to Know I Was Not the Only One’: Talking Honestly About Pregnancy Loss and Reproductive Grief

Award-winning cartoonist Chari Pere and award-winning author and psychologist Dr. Jessica Zucker are on a mission to normalize talking about the complexities of reproductive grief in order to help people feel less alone.

Reproductive grief encompasses the range of emotional, psychological and even physical responses that can follow experiences like miscarriage, stillbirth, infertility, termination for medical reasons or other disruptions in a person’s reproductive journey. It is a kind of loss that is often invisible to others but deeply felt—an ache shaped not only by what happened, but by what could have been. Despite how common it is, reproductive grief remains largely unspoken, shrouded in silence and shame.

When in Doubt, Blame Young Women: The Evergreen Electoral Existential Crisis of Young Women in U.S. Politics

While the right-wing media ecosystem views young women as an affliction, the Democratic Party risks taking this group for granted and overlooking their real-life concerns.

Women are more likely to support Democratic candidates than their male counterparts. This pattern, coined the “gendergap” by Ellie Smeal, has remained a fixture of American politics in every presidential election since 1980. That support shows that women’s Democratic support is consistent and can be politically decisive. Still, this support should not be taken for granted.

Misogynoir à la Française

A few days before Christmas, the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo featured an abhorrent caricature of esteemed journalist, author, filmmaker, and activist Rokhaya Diallo. The grotesque image, which we will not reproduce here, shows a half-naked Diallo dancing on stage dressed in a banana skirt. Her features were exaggerated in the manner of time worn racist propaganda—contorting her nose, mouth, and eyes for a minstrel-like effect. Next to the image was an audience pointing and jeering underneath a sign that read “The Rokhaya Diallo Show: she ridicules the separation of church and state all over the world.” There is no question that Diallo was targeted for her widespread international success and renown as an antiracist activist, as well as her prominence as a Black feminist voice decrying racial injustice, sexism, and misogynoir in France and abroad. The timing felt insidiously intentional— the magazine chose to end the year with a decidedly harmful message to Black French women as a holiday send off.