Sexual entitlement, supreme gentlemen, and "You"

As many likely know, “You” is a 2018 TV series which has recently risen to popularity on Netflix. It follows the story of a bookstore manager, Joe, as he obsessively pursues his love interest, Beck (often without her knowledge). While it is primarily a psychological thriller, the series exposes the dark side of the “nice guy” trope, specifically illuminating how it is rooted in sexual entitlement.

Joe has the classic “nice guy” image. He is bookish, modestly dressed, witty and respectful (as far as Beck knows). Throughout the course of the series we are lulled by his calm, rational narration as he justifies each of his increasingly malevolent acts by his love for Beck.

The “nice guy” is a popular trope, reinforced by many storylines in the media. Joe seems to realize this too. For example, he narrates as he hides in Beck’s apartment that he isn’t worried about being caught because he has “seen enough romantic comedies to know that guys like [him] are always getting in jams like this.”

This indeed echoes a scene from a popular romantic comedy, “10 Things I Hate About You.” There, a male character sneaks into a girl’s bedroom searching for personal information about her to relay to his friend. Removed from the comforting backdrop of a lighthearted comedy, we see the truly sinister quality of this behavior.

Joe’s foil is Beck’s initial romantic interest, Benji: a wealthy, arrogant, heroin-addicted former frat boy. He cheats on Beck, ignores her calls, and shows up on her doorstep late at night expecting sex. After spying on the two together, Joe resolves that Benji is not worthy of Beck. He then takes it upon himself to bludgeon, kidnap and eventually murder Benji (all for Beck’s own good, of course).

Joe’s violence is not altogether unforeseen or surprising considering his other beliefs, namely, his thinly veiled misogyny. In the opening scene when he first sees Beck in the bookstore, he notes that she is not “the standard insecure nymph hunting for Faulkner [she’ll] never finish.” This paraphrases another common pseudo-compliment: “you’re not like other girls.” This is the first of many red flags.

Next, it is immediately apparent that Joe hates Beck’s friends, for reasons colored by their gender. He scoffs at their careers (e.g., body-positive Instagram influencer), wealth, and personal lives (slut-shaming galore). He is irritated that Beck spends so much time with them, and is critical of everything from their “girly” cocktails to their weekly viewings of “The Bachelor.” He believes that “self-respecting women” should not have these interests, adding that he is the only “real feminist” whom Beck knows.

Throughout the series, this line struck me most, as it nails the toxic rationale of the “nice guy.” He is a “woke misogynist.” He thinks he is educated. He thinks he knows best, and that he is doing the right thing. These comments, littered throughout Joe's meandering narration, form the bridge between his apparently benign demeanor and his occasional violent actions. However lovingly disguised, the toxicity of this brand of masculinity inevitably seeps through.

Initially, the trope seems relatively harmless, particularly because the idea behind “nice guys” is that they are, in fact, nice. They are not threatening; they are the threatened. They are the band geek, the math nerd, whoever happens to be the antithesis to the bully and/or jock.

In classic romantic comedy narratives, these men are overlooked for the majority of the story until their love interest realizes the error of her ways and comes running to them. Examples include “13 Going on 30,” “The Lizzie McGuire Movie,” “The Princess Diaries,” and “10 Things I Hate About You” (just off the top of my head). Yet, at the root of this idea is sexual entitlement. Because a man is “nice” (i.e., not a “bro”), he is deserving of women’s attention and affection.

This idea spawns misogynistic movements, such as the uprising of self-proclaimed “pickup artists” and involuntary celibates (“incels”). These men troll online forums, demeaning women and sharing methods of manipulating women into sleeping with them. It can be easy to poke fun at these men, stereotypically donning fedoras and waxing poetic about chivalry, but their ideas still manifest in tragic ways.

In 2014, a man named Eliot Rodger went on a shooting spree in Isla Vista, California, killing six people and injuring fourteen. In particular, he attempted to target sorority houses because he felt sexually rejected by those women. He was active on pickup artist and incel sites and had posted several YouTube videos in the weeks preceding the attack, detailing his plans to murder women for their refusal to have sex with him. In his final video post, he called it “an injustice” that women were not attracted to him, referring to himself as “the supreme gentleman.”

Although Rodger’s parents reported these videos, law enforcement declined to pursue the matter or even search his apartment for weapons. Apparently, his threats did not meet the criteria for an involuntary psychiatric hold. Anyway, failure to prevent gun violence is a discussion for another time.

The point is that men who see themselves as “nice guys,” “gentlemen,” or otherwise deserving of love and sex from women, are not only problematic, but dangerous. Either predictably or in a shocking plot twist, depending on how you see it, “You” concludes with Beck’s death at Joe’s hands. He wouldn’t allow her to leave him. However he may have romanticized the story up to that point, the ending makes it clear that entitlement is not love.

Ultimately, violence underlies the culture of sexual entitlement, whether it escapes through micro-aggressions, sexual assault, or murder. Rather than downplaying or romanticizing this reality, “You” illustrates how these ideas thread together, culminating in extremes. Its haunting story underscores that violence is never a far leap from casual misogyny and entitlement.