My late wife, a post-colonial neo-feminist (her labels, not mine), with both the credentials and attitude to prove it, used to say it was old, grey-haired white men who were the problem. Her solution? “Shoot them. Shoot them all!” As one of two women I’ve partnered with who had fired an AK-47, I took her words seriously.

As an old, grey-haired white man, I often reflect on my role in the feminist conversation. Over decades, I’ve witnessed the shift from overt sexism to today’s more nuanced battles against systemic inequities and performative allyship. Feminism, to me, isn’t a movement for sideline spectators—it demands active, accountable participation from all genders. To create truly equitable spaces, we must engage in open, honest conversations, no matter how uncomfortable, with accountability as the cornerstone.

In recent years, the notion of the male feminist has undergone a reckoning, with the downfall of prominent figures revealing troubling gaps between advocacy and personal conduct. High-profile allegations against men like Jian Ghomeshi, Joss Whedon, Neil Gaiman, and Justin Baldoni have reshaped how we perceive allyship, accountability, and power dynamics. The fallout has had profound effects on relationships—romantic, professional, and platonic—forcing a reevaluation of trust and authenticity in feminist spaces.

Joss Whedon’s case is particularly emblematic. Once lauded as a feminist icon for creating strong female protagonists in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly, his reputation crumbled as allegations of abusive behavior emerged. Former cast members, including Charisma Carpenter, accused him of cruelty, particularly during her pregnancy, which she claims he mocked and punished her for. These revelations exposed a stark contrast between Whedon’s public image as a champion of women and the private reality of his behavior. His downfall serves as a cautionary tale about conflating progressive rhetoric with genuine integrity. This dissonance erodes trust in relationships, leaving many to question the sincerity of those who claim feminist values.

The case of Jian Ghomeshi, former CBC radio host, highlights another troubling example. Ghomeshi built a career as a liberal, feminist public figure, advocating for progressive causes and portraying himself as an ally to women. However, in 2014, multiple women came forward with allegations of sexual assault and violence, challenging his carefully crafted persona. Though Ghomeshi was acquitted in 2016, the trial revealed troubling patterns of manipulation and abuse of power. The gap between his feminist rhetoric and his behavior served as a stark reminder of how public figures can exploit progressive movements to conceal harmful actions. Ghomeshi’s fall from grace continues to influence discussions about the complexities of consent, power, and the sincerity of those who claim to champion women’s rights.

Neil Gaiman, author of The Sandman and Good Omens, has been accused by multiple women of sexual assault, including non-consensual BDSM activities. Gaiman denies the allegations, claiming all encounters were consensual, but his publicized divorce from Amanda Palmer has sparked debates on power imbalances and performative feminism. Critics have also pointed to recurring patriarchal tropes in his writing. Gaiman’s case shows how those who don’t explicitly identify as feminists can still contribute to harmful dynamics if their work or actions contradict the ideals they seem to represent.

These revelations are part of a broader trend, including figures like Justin Baldoni, who faced allegations of sexual misconduct despite cultivating a feminist persona. Such cases have fostered growing skepticism toward men in feminist spaces, especially those whose advocacy appears more self-serving than sincere. This skepticism has rippled through relationship dynamics, with women increasingly wary of men who leverage feminism for personal gain rather than genuine allyship.

The downfall of the male feminist underscores the danger of prioritizing rhetoric over accountability. For too long, society has lionized men for minimal feminist advocacy, ignoring the gaps between their public personas and private actions. This reckoning reminds us that relationships—romantic, professional, or communal—must be built on mutual respect, honesty, and genuine engagement. By dismantling the myth of the flawless male feminist, we can pave the way for more authentic, equitable partnerships rooted in shared values rather than superficial performances.