Both Jonas and Peter nod at that.
I keep going, “It’s the reason why the authentic feminists, and all rational women, must do the hard work of separating chaff from grain, for our own sake!”
“Uh-huh,” Jonas utters noncommittally.
Speaking of hard work…“Back at the restaurant, you said that most women are unwilling to put in the effort it takes to be strong. What sort of evidence do you have for that claim?”
“Observational,” he says. “Besides, men and women have developed different survival tactics. Women can afford to be weak.”
Peter and I wince at that.
“For millennia,” Jonas continues, “starting with humanity’s switch to a sedentary lifestyle, women were expected and incentivized to be weak.”
“Why?” Peter asks.
“Because it worked for premodern societies.” He shrugs an admission, “Less so in our day.”
I cock my head. “What about today’s men? Can they afford to become weaker as women become stronger?”
“No,” he says quickly. “Our society can’t afford that. When a big enough chunk of men become weak, the entire society goes down the toilet.”
“Was that another observational claim?” I ask, infusing irony into my voice.
“Indeed.”
Peter leans back. “I’m sorry, but you didn’t convince me, Jonas. I’m 100 percent with Margot on this.”
“That’s all right.” Jonas trains his gaze on the amber liquid in his glass.
“There’s a flaw in your reasoning,” I say.
“Please, show it to me.”
“For millennia, women were incentivized topretendto be weak,” I begin. “But when the men were out at sea, or at war, or just away from home, do you really think those men didn’t pray that their wives took care of herself and the kids? That she was strong enough to do that?”
My argument gives him pause. As he mulls it, I watch him, peeved at how much I like what I see.
“What you described, that quality the men hope for in their wives who hold the fort…” He struggles like he’s out of his depth. “I wouldn’t call it strength.”
“Then what would you call it?” Peter asks.
“Resourcefulness. Pluck, if you must. But not strength.”
I smirk.
He turns to me. “Was it funny?”
“Not exactly funny, no. Pathetic would be a better word.”
“Pathetic?”
Ignoring him, I address Peter, “Would you have a more befitting term for a guy who just lost a debate but who resorts to semantics instead of conceding?”
“Pathetic covers it pretty well,” Peter says with a half-suppressed laugh.
Jonas clenches his jaws.
Peter and I high-five.
