The reason progress could not defeat patriarchy yet

The challenge is larger than changing laws or punishing offenders. It is about changing what societies choose to normalise or reject

Every time another woman dies inside a home that was supposed to offer love and protection, society reacts with outrage. We search for monsters, condemn families, demand harsher punishments, and reassure ourselves that such evil belongs to a few individuals. Yet, when the outrage subsides, another tragedy emerges, and the cycle begins again.

Perhaps we have been asking the wrong question.

The real question is not why violence against women still shocks us. The more uncomfortable question is why, after decades of education, prosperity, and social progress, we are still unable to free ourselves from one of humanity’s oldest prejudices.

The recent death of Twisha Sharma and the allegations that followed once again forced society to confront painful realities. Much of the public anger was directed, understandably, at her husband. But the allegations involving her mother-in-law also reminded us of a truth that many find difficult to acknowledge. Patriarchy is not sustained by men alone. Sometimes women themselves become guardians of the very hierarchies and expectations that once caused them suffering.

Recognising this truth does not absolve men of responsibility. Violence against women remains one of the gravest moral failures of our times, and men must confront the attitudes that enable domination and control. Patriarchy survives because it is not merely about gender; it is about power. And power has always found willing defenders across generations, families, and even among those who have themselves experienced injustice.

Many women have heard words of humiliation not from strangers but from individuals in their own familial ecosystem. Many daughters are still taught adjustment as a virtue, while sons are quietly taught entitlement. Families continue to confuse obedience with respect and silence with maturity. Entire communities prefer compromise over confrontation and reputation over justice. Violence rarely begins with physical assault. It begins much earlier. It begins when control is mistaken for care, when emotional abuse is dismissed as normal, when women are expected to endure what men are rarely asked to tolerate, and when family honour is considered more important than human dignity.

Perhaps that is why violence against women is still treated as a private matter. Families urge silence. Communities advise adjustment. Victims fear being blamed for inviting the very cruelty inflicted upon them. Even today, many women hesitate to speak up because they know that society often puts the accused on trial, but it also puts the victim on trial.

This silence has allowed prejudice to survive generations.

What makes this persistence particularly troubling is that it has survived extraordinary material progress. India today is more educated, wealthier, and more connected than at any other time in its history. Women occupy positions of leadership in businesses, science, the armed forces, and public life. Yet, progress in lifestyles has not always translated into progress in attitudes.

Perhaps we have mistaken education for wisdom and prosperity for civilisation. Education can create successful professionals, but they do not automatically create compassionate human beings. A person may master finance, technology, and management and yet remain deeply feudal in matters of relationships and power. The twenty-first century has shown that modernity and prejudice are not opposites; they often coexist under the same roof. 

There is another transformation taking place that deserves attention. Increasingly, relationships themselves are being reduced to economics. Marriage is discussed in terms of salaries, lifestyles, and expectations. Social media has converted comparison into a way of life and status into a measure of self-worth. Hyper-consumerism has brought abundance, but it has also brought restlessness. The fear of missing out has replaced the ability to feel content.

The problem is not prosperity. Nor is ambition the enemy. Societies need growth, and individuals have every right to aspire. But when acquisition becomes more important than affection and status becomes more important than empathy, something fundamental begins to weaken. Relationships slowly become negotiations. Human beings begin to be valued less for who they are and more for what they possess.

Markets are remarkably efficient at producing wealth. They are far less capable of producing compassion. Consumer culture can teach people what to desire, but it cannot teach them how to compromise, forgive or respect one another.

Perhaps this is why violence against women should not be viewed merely as a women’s issue. It is a mirror held up to society itself. It reveals how much easier it has been for us to modernise our economies than to humanise our relationships. It exposes the distance between material progress and moral progress.

What is particularly striking is that societies often condemn violence in public while quietly accommodating domination in private. We celebrate strong women in politics, business, and sports, yet continue to expect conformity and submission from them within families. Such contradictions reveal that changing symbols is easier than changing instincts and that social approval often runs ahead of social transformation.

The challenge, therefore, is larger than changing laws or punishing offenders. It is about changing what societies choose to normalise and what they choose to reject. Every civilisation reveals its values not merely through the rights it proclaims but through the behaviour it rewards, the injustices it excuses, and the silences it chooses to maintain. 

History may remember our times for artificial intelligence, extraordinary prosperity, and technological breakthroughs that previous generations could scarcely imagine. But future generations may ask a far simpler question.

With all our progress, why did we find it so difficult to treat one another with dignity? For societies are ultimately judged not by the wealth they accumulate but by the values they uphold. And the continuing violence against women is a painful reminder that while our lifestyles have changed dramatically, our conscience still have not.

SRINATH SRIDHARAN