After watching this, you’ll understand why the dating market has completely collapsed. And most people think men stopped approaching women because they’re weak, afraid, or lazy. And that’s what women tell themselves to avoid the uncomfortable truth. But I’m going to show you what’s actually happening. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Men haven’t stopped approaching because they lack courage. They stopped because they did a cost-benefit analysis. And the math doesn’t work anymore. The risk is catastrophic. The reward is minimal. And the entire system is rigged against them from the start.
You’re not crazy for noticing this. You’re just awake. Here’s a simple test that proves my point. Go to any public space and watch interactions between men and women and notice something. Men don’t make eye contact. They don’t smile. They don’t initiate. They walk past attractive women like they’re invisible. And this isn’t accidental. It’s strategic survival. Your grandfather could approach a woman at a coffee shop, get rejected politely, and move on with his day. But you try that today. You risk being filmed, posted online, called a creep, and having your life destroyed by lunch.
Let me break down what’s happening in a man’s brain when he considers approaching a woman today because he’s running a threat assessment that would make a Navy Seal proud, and every variable screams danger. First, there’s the immediate social risk where she could react with visible disgust, loud rejection, or public humiliation, and her friends will back her up regardless of how respectful you were. Every woman nearby will assume you’re a predator, and you’re guilty until proven innocent. Except there’s no way to prove innocence.
I watched a guy at a supermarket here approach several woman respectfully, introduced himself, made small talk, and they weren’t interested, which is fine, but she didn’t just say no. She said it loud enough for everyone to hear, made a face like he’d spit on her, and immediately told her friends he was creepy. He did nothing wrong, nothing that would have been considered inappropriate in any previous generation. But in 30 seconds, his reputation in that venue was destroyed. And every woman in that bar now thinks he’s a predator because one woman decided his interest was offensive.
Then there’s the digital risk that hangs over every interaction like a guillotine. One in three women will film interactions they don’t like and post them online. And you don’t even need to do anything wrong. She just needs to feel uncomfortable, which is entirely subjective and changes based on whether she finds you attractive. Same approach, different results depending on factors you can’t control. Your height, your face, your status, things you are born with or without. And that’s what determines whether you’re confident or creepy, charming, or threatening.
Once you step into the modern dating arena, the landscape is almost unrecognizable compared to what your grandfather faced. Men today are running calculations before they even open their mouths. Every approach is a risk assessment. Public spaces are no longer neutral ground—they’re minefields. A polite introduction at a coffee shop, a friendly compliment at a bookstore, or a simple hello in a bar can be amplified into social media drama that spreads like wildfire. One misread signal, one woman deciding she’s offended, and your reputation is shredded before your eyes. That’s the reality men live in, and it shapes behavior in ways that outsiders rarely see or admit.
Social media has turned every interaction into a permanent record. Video clips can be edited, shared, and weaponized without context. A polite man can be cast as a predator; a respectful approach can be framed as harassment. The consequences extend beyond embarrassment—they touch careers, social circles, and mental health. Men weigh the potential fallout against the possibility of a date, and the numbers don’t add up. The cost of trying far outweighs the reward, and rational men recognize this. It’s not about courage; it’s about survival in a system that punishes normal male behavior while celebrating outrage.
Then there’s the issue of market dynamics. Women have access to constant validation, options flowing in at every digital touchpoint. Dating apps promised efficiency, but they revealed the harsh truth: the average man is invisible. Men who would have had a fair shot face a market where their presence barely registers. Every approach is compared against countless other candidates, many of whom are judged attractive based purely on superficial standards—height, face, income, status. The playing field is not level, and the rules have been rewritten without warning. The gap between expectation and reality creates a feedback loop where men stop trying, not because they’re weak, but because the odds are stacked against them.
Even when intentions are pure, perception dominates. One interaction can be fine one day, and catastrophic the next. A man compliments a coworker, asks a woman for coffee, or expresses polite interest, and he’s suddenly guilty in the court of social opinion. The threshold for “creepy” is arbitrary, unpredictable, and unforgiving. Every decision is calculated: how close can I stand? How much eye contact is safe? How much is too much? Normal social confidence is now a liability. Men adapt by withdrawing, avoiding, and staying invisible—strategic survival, not surrender.
Finally, the psychological toll accumulates. Hundreds of rejections, constant judgment, digital surveillance, and legal ambiguities build emotional scar tissue. Approach fatigue sets in. Men who tried, respected boundaries, and followed the rules still get punished. The message is clear: engaging with women carries more risk than reward. As a result, men retreat, choosing self-preservation over social conquest. This withdrawal isn’t bitterness; it’s clarity. Men are reading the room, calculating the landscape, and making the rational choice. The system doesn’t reward effort; it punishes it. Until the incentives change, men will remain on the sidelines, not out of fear, but because they’ve learned something your grandfather never had to consider: some games aren’t worth playing.
The Me Too movement was necessary to address real predators, men who actually abused power and harmed women. And nobody debates that. Nobody with any sense argues that those men didn’t deserve consequences. But it created collateral damage that nobody wants to acknowledge. A chilling effect on normal male behavior that extends far beyond punishing actual predators. Millions of normal men watched what happened to men whose only crime was misreading signals or being awkward. And they made a rational decision based on observable patterns. The risk isn’t worth it.
Every man saw the same pattern repeat itself across industries, across social classes, across the entire culture. Accusations don’t require proof anymore. Being accused is enough to destroy you. Your intention doesn’t matter. Only her perception matters. And her perception is reality by default. And her perception can change years later when it becomes advantageous to reframe normal interactions as harassment when she needs victim status for social currency. When destroying you becomes useful to her narrative.
Think about what this does to male psychology, the impossible position it creates. You’re told to approach women. Be confident. Take initiative because that’s what masculinity looks like. That’s what women say they want. But you’re also told that unwanted attention is harassment. That making someone uncomfortable is assault. That crossing invisible boundaries makes you a predator. How do you know if your attention is wanted before you offer it? You can’t. It’s literally impossible. It’s a catch-22 where the only winning move is not to play.
Men didn’t stop approaching women altogether. They didn’t give up on dating entirely. They stopped approaching women in person because dating apps promised a better system, a more efficient marketplace, mutual interest before interaction. No public rejection, no accusations of being creepy, no hostile responses in front of audiences, just match or don’t match, simple, clean, private. But dating apps revealed something devastating, something crushed whatever optimism men had left about their prospects in the dating market. The actual success rate for average men on dating apps is worse than in-person approaches. Dramatically worse. Catastrophically worse. Most men get almost no matches despite swiping for months. The ones they do get don’t respond to messages. The ones who respond ghost after three messages.
The system is transparently designed to extract money rather than create connections, to keep you hoping and paying rather than succeeding and leaving. Social media destroyed whatever remained of normal dating dynamics. Whatever balance still existed between men and women in the dating market, every woman now has constant validation from dozens of men, hundreds of men if she’s even remotely attractive. Attention pouring in 24/7 from every direction. Why would she care about the guy approaching her at the grocery store when she has 47 unread DMs from guys she matched with last week? Your in-person approach can’t compete with the digital attention buffet she carries in her pocket.
Approaching women is a losing game. And men are finally smart enough to stop playing. That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom. That’s not fear. That’s risk assessment. That’s not giving up. That’s choosing yourself. And until the incentives change, until the risks decrease, until the rewards increase, until women show appreciation instead of hostility, men will continue staying on the sidelines. The dating market collapsed because one side changed all the rules and is now confused why the other side stopped playing. Men aren’t coming back until the game is fair again. And maybe not even then because they learned something valuable while they were gone. They don’t need you as much as you need them. And that’s the truth nobody wants to say out loud.
Men didn’t stop approaching because they’re weak, lazy, or afraid of rejection. They stopped because the system became hostile. The risks became catastrophic and the rewards became worthless. Your grandfather could approach 10 women, get three conversations, two dates, and possibly a wife. You approach 10 women and you might get filmed, labeled creepy, reported to authorities, and still end up alone. The game changed. The rules were rewritten against men and smart men adapted by refusing to play. Women wanted independence from men. They got it. Men wanted appreciation from women. They didn’t get it. So men chose themselves, chose peace over chaos, chose freedom over obligation.
