Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus, and Other Lies the Media Told Me

A few nights ago I was searching around the house for something to read, and found a book
called Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus wedged between my mother’s Martha
Stewart cook book and her collection of Southern Living magazines (riveting, I know).

The preface of the book is that Martians and Venusians met, fell in love, flew to Earth and
lived in perfect harmony for quite some time; then magically, the effects of Earth’s
atmosphere took hold and everyone woke up with selective amnesia. They forgot their
differences, and to this day, have been in conflict.

The idea is almost laughable, but somehow, the book has managed to manifest itself in the
outside world beyond my living room bookshelves. One of the first lessons my psychology
professor taught was on gender: that men need to be needed, and women need to be
cherished. He presented these stipulations as scientific fact, and as students absorbing the
information and relying on his expertise as a reliable source, we believed in his authority.
Though I believed his explanation was a vastly unfair generalization, I did believe that as a
professional his facts were valid: that his citations came from a true academic source.
Instead, I found that he had extracted his premise from this book, which is little more than
a self-help book written by a man with questionable academic credentials (both of the
author’s degrees come from unaccredited schools no longer in existence). I mean, you
might as well take relationship advice from a high school boy. However, despite its lack of
citations, case studies, etc. that you might find in a book that touts itself as conveying some
biological truth, fifty million copies have been sold worldwide.

That is, fifty million copies which repeatedly assert that the number one mistake women
make is attempting to change or improve a man: thus, men and women’s incessant
conflicts. This has to be the most annoying theme of the book, though, because it suggests
that men are incapable of accepting criticism and justifies the “boys will be boys” behavior;
it even suggests that men are infallible creatures by nature.

The book also states that “a woman’s self-esteem rises and falls like a wave” and that her
“inner emptiness” can only be filled by the external love of a man. That women deserve to
“give less, and receive more” rather than contributing equally to a partnership. That “men
are much more willing to say yes if they have the freedom to say no” and that if a man is
“punished for pulling away, he can become afraid of ever doing it again”, as if women are
forbidden the same freedom. These are the sentiments that place women on pedestals,
encourage sexual double standards, excuse infidelity, and ultimately exclude every other
form of relationship and orientation by dismissing its existence altogether.

But oh, the fun doesn’t stop there. Next year, Hollywood plans to turn this beast into a
romantic comedy, manifesting in a media more appealing to the current generation of
youth. According to the National Endowment for the Arts, the average young adult spends
only seven minutes of their leisure time actually reading per day, compared with two hours
of television and movie intake. That means, at a time when determining our societal roles
and identity are sensitive to outside influence, movies like Men are From Mars have a
greater impact of shaping those roles than books like The Purity Myth or The Second Sex.
And while you could argue that not all movies perpetuate archaic gender roles and
stereotypes, the ones that encourage progressive thought certainly aren’t available for the
mainstream audience.

Unfortunately, reading a few paragraphs of this book is like reading my childhood

manifesto. Although feminism has enlightened me, the world I live in is still a world where
dresses are mandatory for every high school graduation ceremony, and where prom dates
are more important than straight A’s. That’s why I’m so concerned for this generation: this
book and its counterparts are celebrated, not dismissed.

Aside from the obvious obstacles facing feminism, I believe that in our world of constant
entertainment and media infiltration, feminism must face one more: How does one combat
a lie when no one else seems to care for the truth?

“Leave it to a woman to say something like that”

“When a woman says fine she never means it.”

My grandmother explained bitterly to me the aftermath of abortions – that dead children were
discarded in trashcans, and that women who exterminated their children would undoubtedly go
to hell, a place not unlike the Inferno’s seventh circle.

Arguing with my cousin whether or not blue was a boy’s or girl’s color. I insisted it was a girl’s
color; as far as I knew, the concept of blue had never extended beyond my mother’s declaration
that it was her favorite color.

When I was seven years old, my mother explained to me the mechanics of sex. Boy parts fit into
girl parts, just like a puzzle: that’s how babies are born.