The title of this book is brutal but the subtitle is more sinister, for misogyny would be less of a threat were it irrational or illogical. The end result of this book is to leave the reader pessimistically but thoroughly convinced as to the nature and dangers of misogyny.

The first line of the introduction reads:

Women are being silenced and that silence is structural. Manne emphases more than once the fact that strangulation is often mistakenly described as choking, the latter involving an internally constricted airway, the former involving external pressure exerted on the throat or neck. There is a reason this form of violence is the focus of the introduction and the message is implicit but striking. The silencing of females has an external cause and we should not be fooled into thinking otherwise.

Manne challenges the naïve conception of misogyny, namely that it is a psychological state held by some males, constituting an irrational hatred of women and in extreme cases perhaps even regarding them as less than human. Instead, she identifies misogyny as a social and political phenomenon that is manifested psychologically, structurally and institutionally. It serves to enforce and police the subordination of women by ensuring they face hostility when they violate patriarchal social norms. There is something hugely important and rather poetic in this shift in the understanding of misogyny from what men feel to what women experience.

Such an understanding of misogyny also clears up several misconceptions. A man does not have to ‘hate all women’ to be a misogynist (how can he be a misogynist when he loves his mother/daughter/wife?) Indeed, women who conform to patriarchal ideals are esteemed and praised. Misogyny is not about ‘hating women’ but rather policing the ‘bad’ ones. Women are divided into those who conform and those who do not. This means that women can police the behaviour of other women in the same way as men can. It may well be in their interests to do so if the behaviour of some women challenges their own acceptance of patriarchal norms. How unsettling, if things could actually be different for women. Misogyny can also be internalised through the guilt that women feel if they break the ‘rules’ resulting in self-policing.

Manne claims the patriarchal values at the root of this involve gender-coded goods and services whereby women are seen to be giving humans. There are things that are hers to be given (attention, care, sympathy, admiration, nurturing, respect and so on) to the relevant males and things that are not hers for the taking (power, independence, presidencies) from males. When a woman is seen not to be providing what she should, or is asking for that which belongs to males, then she will face hostility of varying degrees. If she withholds sympathy she is a bitch. If she is ambitious she is hostile and anti-social.

Manne also debunks the myth that misogyny involves perceiving women as less than human. This theory suggests that atrocities committed towards certain groups are only possible because these groups are dehumanised, for such treatment could not be administered to a fellow human being. As such the remedy would be to recognise that ‘they’ have the same traits as ‘us’ and then empathy would follow. But this theory leaves some things unexplained, such as why women face misogyny from other women. Do misogynistic women see other women as fundamentally different sorts of creatures to themselves? Or do they see themselves as also subhuman? Neither seems plausible. In fact the more plausible theory is that women who face misogyny are seen as human…all too human. For it is only in recognising that a fellow human being shares the same capacities as you that they become relatable but also threatening in a way only other humans can. A misogynist does not deny the minds or independence of women, rather they are threatened by it. Manne references the Isla Vista killings committed by Eliot Rodgers, whose recorded so-called manifesto talks about slaughtering every ‘stuck-up blond slut’ he sees. He complained that they threw themselves at ‘obnoxious brutes’ rather than him, the perfect gentleman, asking ‘what don't they see in me?’ Rodgers did not deny the autonomy of these women, he just objected to how they used it.

Part of the process of exonerating men from misogynistic actions involves what Manne terms himpathy, the flow of sympathy away from female victims towards their male victimisers. This is illustrated in the case of Brock Turner's rape conviction which hit the headlines in the US. He was respectful, a ‘golden boy’ and a promising athlete and people were reluctant to believe his accuser in the face of a pre-established opinion of his character. Himpathy contributes to the fact that women are the subject of testimonial injustice, deemed either less competent or less trustworthy in their testimony. Himpathy, then, is mirrored by herasure: one more way to silence her.

Manne makes several references to intersectionality in the experience of misogyny, while making it very clear that she recognises her own position as a privileged, white female. Although this is not something that is explored widely in the book, she does reference the case of Daniel Holtzclaw, a police officer in Oklahoma City, convicted of eighteen counts of sexual assault (including rape) against African American women, often drug-users or sex workers. The misogyny faced by marginalised groups of women will be different and Manne uses the term misogynoir for the particular form of misogyny faced by black women. The case also reinforces her points about himpathy given the media coverage of the case.

At the time of publishing, Manne, along with much of the rest of the world, was clearly reeling from Trump's victory over Hilary Clinton in the 2016 US presidential election. She uses Trump's behaviour and attitude effectively to illustrate much of her theory, including the difference between sexism and misogyny. Sexism is the theoretical part, the justificatory branch of the patriarchal order, often working by naturalising sex differences and making female inferiority seem inevitable. This can be used as a basis for misogyny as the practical enforcement of patriarchal order, but doesn't necessarily have to be. Indeed misogyny may not be based on any theoretical belief that females are inferior. If they were, would they need to be silenced with such ferocity? They would be no threat as nature would take its course in restoring the natural order should a female attempt to have ideas above her station. Indeed, Manne theorises that at the heart of Trump's misogyny towards Hilary Clinton was not a belief that she was in any way inferior. The strength and urgency of his attempt to silence her was rather an indication of how much of a threat she was. Manne claims that the cries of ‘lock her up’ revealed not only a desire for legal incarceration but also for a broader sense of containment—speculative, maybe, but persuasive. The election also served to show how misogyny can be directed at women by other women, given what we know about the voting patterns of white women. The success of Clinton would serve to challenge the patriarchal ideals that many white women had internalised. How much easier to claim that Clinton's success was due to deception, corruption or some other perversion of the natural state of women than to admit that there was no good reason why they too could not become president. How much more comforting to instead portray the women who violate patriarchal norms and achieve power and success in male-coded domains as somehow ‘different’.

It is not just that women are held to different standards but also that they have different responsibilities and are judged differently for the same act (‘gendered split perception’). Clinton was vilified for voting for war in Iraq, whereas Obama did not face the same response. Trump on the other hand could boast about sexual assault and become president. On this subject Manne displays dark humour (the only possible humour). In reference to Trump's boast about popping in a tic tac before non-consensual kissing she delivers the devastatingly dry line… how considerate for one so rapey. When it comes to Trump one feels that she struggles to maintain objectivity, but I felt that this was of no detriment to her work.

Ultimately this is a book that resonates with anger and one can feel the shockwaves of the US presidential election in its pages. Despite starting with the accounts of physical violence, one feels that the election is what the book is ultimately leading up to. This places the book itself firmly in a historical context but this will not date it negatively for future readers, given that this election will be a permanent and prominent part of history. The fact that Manne is so invested in her subject matter makes it all the more compelling and her palpable anger draws the reader in all the more. As we know, philosophy can be seen to be abstract and distant so the fact that this book is clearly both philosophical, contemporary and politically important can only be a positive thing. The fact that misogyny is shown to be both logical and structural rather than an irrational private attitude should aid those who want to combat it.

The book carries one expertly backwards and forwards through the logic of misogyny and real-life examples so that whenever the reader may be caught in the abstract they are brought back to brutal reality with contemporary events. Whenever there may be danger of being caught in emotion of the case studies (and they are extremely emotive) Manne reverts to the logic once again to remind us that this is a philosophy book and not merely a historical documentation of violence and election results. The reader is continually challenged academically without any danger of the subject matter losing relevance. If anything I would have liked to see more expansion on the nature of gender-coded goods and services, particularly in terms of time and attention. It would have been interesting to further explore the origins of gender stereotypes and perceptions framed in the nature/culture or private/public spheres. This would give some theoretical insight into why females are seen as ‘owing’ nurture and sympathy rather than being ‘owed’ power and respect.

I began the last chapter The Giving She naively expecting some message of hope or solution. But Manne never promised this and the final section is darkly pessimistic. Manne shares some of the brutal misogynistic comments she received in response to her work. She also references the work of Shel Silverstein, in particular The Giving Tree, in which a tree (as a thinly disguised metaphor for motherhood) gives and gives to a young child until there is nothing left but a stump on which the child rests his head. Manne sees horror in the story. That women should love others so much more than they love themselves and give to the point where there is nothing left but an amputated stump and that this is held up as an ideal. The book ends with the stark reality that misogyny is still a dangerous problem but without any solution to rectify it. Although one is left wishing that Manne had offered some hope, this was never her intention. No happy endings here.

Overall this is an angry, deeply disturbing, wholly convincing book offering a fresh understanding of the logic of misogyny. Manne shines light on the issues with clarity but then one feels like she passes over the baton, as if she is saying that she's made the diagnosis but has no cure. Over to us for a collective solution.