How To Date Men When You Hate Men by Blythe Roberson Summary

How to Date Men When You Hate Men is a comedy-philosophy book by Blythe Roberson that humorously dissects modern dating within patriarchal systems. It explores crushes, flirting, dating apps, and emotional challenges through a feminist lens, blending sharp wit with social critique. Roberson reframes dating frustrations—like decoding texts or "performative chillness"—as universal experiences, all while questioning societal norms that complicate relationships.

This book is ideal for feminists, comedy lovers, or anyone navigating modern dating. It resonates with readers seeking relatable takes on crushes, dating app fatigue, or societal pressures. Roberson’s humor appeals to fans of Phoebe Robinson or The Onion’s style, though those expecting deep systemic analysis may find it lighter on activism.

Yes, for its humor and relatability. Stephen Colbert and Phoebe Robinson praise its wit, and reviewers call it "hilarious" and "universally frustrating." While some note it focuses more on dating than hating men, its candid takes on digital flirting and "Schrödinger’s Relationship" offer fresh insights. Ideal for lighthearted feminist commentary.

Blythe Roberson is a comedian and writer for The New Yorker, The Onion, and Wait Wait... Don’t Tell Me!. She researches for The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and authored travel comedy America the Beautiful?. Raised in Wisconsin, she blends academic insight (Harvard) with absurdist humor to critique society and gender dynamics.

The book divides into four sections: "Crushes" (e.g., tracking blurry-faced obsessions), "Flirting" (text interpretation, missed connections), "Dating" (app pitfalls, defining "chill"), and "Psychic Wounds" (emotional fallout). It satirizes modern rituals like overanalyzing messages or using dating apps to "find friends" instead of hobbies.

Roberson turns frustrations into comedy—like creating a "crush-tracking app" or listing "Men I Thought Were Flirting with Me." She mocks performative aloofness and "digital flirting" fails, using absurdity to highlight how patriarchy complicates romance. This approach makes systemic issues digestible while validating reader experiences.

• Dating frustrations stem from patriarchal systems, not personal failure.
• Embrace specificity: ditch vague "chillness" for clear intent.
• Apps worsen ambiguity; real-world interactions reduce miscommunication.
• Roberson urges reframing self-worth beyond romantic validation, using humor to reclaim agency.

It lampoons dating-app culture ("Is this a date?"), text-over-analysis, and societal pressure to couple up. Roberson argues apps enable "Schrödinger’s Relationship"—undefined connections thriving on ambiguity. She advocates ditching "The Rules" for self-defined boundaries, mocking how patriarchy pathologizes women’s desires.

Some readers find the title misleading, expecting more systemic critique than dating comedy. Others note repetitiveness in anecdotes about unrequited crushes. While praised for humor, a few cite uneven pacing—deep dives into flirting contrasts with rushed dating advice.

Unlike Phoebe Robinson’s personal essays or Caitlin Moran’s manifesto-style takes, Roberson focuses narrowly on dating absurdities via philosophical riffing. It’s less self-help than We Should All Be Feminists, using satire akin to The Onion to expose gendered double standards in romance.

"I have ended up with a number of crushes greater than the population of Iceland."

This highlights the absurd scale of romantic fixation women are socialized to accept.

"Performative chillness is exhausting."

Roberson critiques the pressure to feign indifference instead of asserting desires.

Her New Yorker and Onion experience sharpens the satire—e.g., listing "Categories for My Crush-Tracking App" or dissecting texts like literary criticism. This elevates dating vignettes into cultural commentary, blending academic phrasing with irreverence to underscore systemic irony.