You’ve been groomed to hate women who win. But it’s not all your fault - here’s why.

I was sixteen, working my first part-time job, and hopelessly naïve. There was a boy. Cute behind a COVID mask, flirty during bin runs; the kind of crush that made every after-school shift feel exciting. The supervisors caught on and scheduled us together for weeks, but it fizzled when – drunk with his mates – he texted, What are we? And I awkwardly typed, I don’t know, sorry.

Fast forward to my eighteenth birthday. He now had a girlfriend – also a coworker – and I, trying to be mature, invited them both. I was trying to prove how cool and chill I was, until my best friend drunkenly pointed at him and said, ‘Oh, you’re THE (his name)!’ When he raised his eyebrows at me, my drunk alter ego spoke for me, saying, ‘I think we both know what she means.’

The next day, through my plastering hangover, his message appeared. He had broken up with his girlfriend. Not for me, he clarified, but because he was done with her immaturity - but he wanted to see me? A few months later, the situation escalated again. Did I want a second chance with him? Maybe, but more for my ego than the romantic connection. He insinuated that I had accidentally broken up a couple, and now I had to deal with the consequences. So, we were secretly together, sneaking around shifts to spare his ex’s feelings.

What I didn’t know was that I was also signing up to be branded a slut, a homewrecker, a bitch. Every shift now meant whispers, side eyes, and group chats dissecting me. Meanwhile, when he inevitably decided he wasn’t in the right headspace for a relationship and went straight back to her, he was forgiven instantly. Welcomed back with open arms. His reputation intact, mine in ruins.

This was my first authentic taste of how internalised misogyny works. He left her for me, then left me for her - and yet somehow, I was the one punished. I carried the fallout, the ruined reputation, the bullying and the whispered judgment. He got redemption; I got shamed. It was never really about what either of us did - it was about how easy it is to blame the girl.

We see this pattern everywhere; far beyond teenage drama in suburban workplaces. Women are punished more harshly than men - for mistakes, for ambition, for existing.

We can see this happening in a public way, in the media. Pop culture latches onto the next big thing at a rapid pace. In the age of TikTok and Instagram, the power to shape narratives no longer belongs solely to media outlets. It now belongs to anyone with a phone. And if there’s one constant in a culture with a short attention span, it’s online hate. Celebrities aren’t above criticism, but the demographic that deals with the heaviest and often most unreasonable share of it are female artists. Nothing excites the public more than a bandwagon, and too often that means blindly tearing women down. At the start of this year, Chappell Roan surged from a niche fan-darling to a mainstream breakout, only to face backlash for setting boundaries with fans and the paparazzi. Taylor Swift is ‘cancelled’ on a weekly rotation, and they’re just the first two that I saw on my feed today.

The pattern is monotonous: a woman rises to fame, society rallies, and then it decides its had enough of her. When Chappell Roan took the stage at Gov Ball this year, she was the breakout star of the summer, hailed as the future of pop. Yet as quickly as her name trended, so did the critiques: her drag outfits are too much, her voice too dramatic, her persona too contrived. Compare that to Chris Brown, who still headlines festivals despite a documented history of violence. It raises the question: When men are celebrated despite violence or misconduct, why do women get torn apart for simply being visible?

Double Standards in Fame

Taylor Swift has spent nearly two decades defending the validity of writing about her relationships; even going so far as creating an entirely fictional album with characters and a storyline. Meanwhile, Drake, Bruno Mars, Ed Sheeran, and many others build their success on heartbreak with hardly any critique from fans or media. Sabrina Carpenter was unfairly labelled a Disney girl long after she outgrew that label. When her music became more sexual and delivered chart-topping hits, her work was criticised as shallow. When her latest album cover was released; showing her on her knees beside the title: Man’s Best Friend, people ignored her many statements where she claimed she was subverting gender roles and being ironic, and that it shows in many of her lyrics and images. Yet online discourse decided she wasn’t deep or radical enough to do any of that. My question is: who are we to decide that? Why is anyone with a TikTok or Instagram account given the authority to judge the morals and standards we hold people to? Especially in a world where girls have been groomed into insecure individuals who compete against each other while most misogynistic men are given a platform to tear others down; mainly targeting successful women.

Don’t get me wrong, artists deserve scrutiny, regardless of gender. The point is proportionality. Women in the public eye are not just evaluated: they’re dissected. Their personal lives, bodies, and even fanbases become part of the ledger against which their art is judged. Men, on the other hand, are allowed to compartmentalise. Their flaws are treated as side notes to their brilliance.

Feminist scholars have long mapped these dynamics. Sandra Lee Bartky in 1990 described how women live under the disciplinary practices of femininity, where every gesture, outfit, or action is scrutinised. Catherine MacKinnon argued that under the patriarchy, women’s speech and creativity are automatically devalued because they are coded as less authoritative. These theories echo perfectly in today’s pop culture landscape. What looks like harmless celebrity gossip is in fact an extension of systemic sexism: a world where women’s work is constantly trivialised, and men’s genius is rarely questioned.

When Fans Become the Media

The media used to set the tone for celebrity stories. Extreme biases and clickbait were common, but news, profiles and stories came from different publications. Hollywood stars were signed by their studios, and it was the studios’ job to work with the press. This meant the pressure was on the press to cooperate with the studios to avoid blacklisting, but now, online communities and stan culture drive the conversation. Comment section pile-ons, TikTok breakdowns, and constant Instagram discussions shape how artists are viewed. And what’s even more revealing, much of this criticism doesn’t come from tabloids, but from other women.

Internalised misogyny runs rampant in fan culture. In our society, women are taught to compete for male approval from a young age. It presents itself clearer, in primary and high schools. With boys teasing others or favouring one girl over another, and that be seen as the highest form of flattery. Or the dating culture of competing for the ‘popular’ boys. That same logic seeps into how we judge female celebrities as well. Kathy Miriam reminds us that patriarchy isn’t just about individual acts of sexism but about systems of domination. Fans can believe they’re holding celebrities accountable while still reproducing the very misogynistic systems they claim to resist. The fury unleashed at women like Swift or Carpenter for being too much or too fake reveals less about their artistry and more about our cultural discomfort with female success.

The System at Work

This isn’t about whether women deserve criticism. It’s about the structures that magnify women’s flaws while minimising men’s. Radical feminists argue that culture itself is designed to discipline women’s visibility. MacKinnon insists that power shapes not only who is listened to but also what counts as art in the first place. Kathy Miriam pushes further, arguing that dismantling the patriarchy requires dismantling the very systems that script how we consume culture.

A liberal feminist perspective might suggest that if we just treated women and men the same, the double standard would vanish. But radical feminism counters that the issue isn’t individual fairness; it’s structural. Women aren’t judged harshly by accident. The whole point of the system is to ensure that their credibility remains fragile, and their success is always provisional.

The Art vs. Artist Divide

Perhaps the starkest example of the double standard lies in how we separate art from the artist. Men are given infinite chances to return to the stage. Women are rarely granted those same opportunities.

Sinead O’Connor’s career was derailed after she tore up a photo of the Pope on live television - an act of political protest later vindicated by history. Megan Thee Stallion was forced to prove in court that she had been shot, all while facing memes and mockery that undermined her credibility. In both cases, their art was subsumed by narratives of scandal.

Poet and feminist, Adrienne Rich once described women’s art as ‘re-visionary’. Work that disrupts patriarchal norms by offering new ways of seeing. That disruption is precisely what makes it threatening. Male artists are often allowed to be universal; in contrast, women’s art is frequently treated as personal, niche, or indulgent. When men misbehave, we bracket off their behaviour from their music or film. When women make even a minor misstep, their entire body of work is tainted.

Kanye West has made headlines for years with antisemitic rants and public meltdowns, yet his ‘genius’ is still a mainstream talking point. Chris Brown’s music videos rack up millions of views, and his tour is selling out stadiums this year; despite his history. Male artists can be cancelled in theory but rehabilitated in practice. For women, cancellation often lingers indefinitely. Once tarnished, their reputation rarely recovers.

The double standard couldn’t be clearer. Women must prove themselves time and again, while men are typically granted authority by default.

Not above critique, but that’s not the point.

Until we acknowledge that this imbalance is systemic, we’ll keep mistaking misogyny for accountability. As long as men are allowed to be flawed geniuses while women are written off as failures the moment they falter, our cultural landscape will remain skewed. So, whether it’s presented in the media, or a bit closer to home in your workplace or school, it is crucial to remain mindful when you’re critiquing - and to what degree.