By Amanda Barber
The Red Pill I’m referring to is a men’s movement of sorts. But not really. It’s hard to categorize. You may have heard of MGTOW—Men Going Their Own Way, or the Manosphere. Essentially, men in this area try to bring attention to the ways in which men are unfairly disadvantaged. Specifically in divorce and family court. Much time is spent discussing the hypergamous nature of women. That is: women always looking for the next rung up on the ladder to get a better situation in life, and how divorce law often incentivizes them to divorce their current husbands for the next best thing. Men are often stuck with years of alimony because the wife sought divorce so she could “find herself,” or because she “fell out of love,” or “got tired of being married,” etc… Many men, perhaps thousands and hundreds of thousands of them have been financially ruined in family court. It’s truly horrifying.
That’s not a perfect or even comprehensive definition, but should give you an idea of what I’m talking about. These guys have legitimate grievances. Which is why I became interested in the whole thing some years ago.
I went down the Red Pill rabbit hole once I married Jonathon who was serving in the South Carolina House at the time. Somewhere in our first year or two of marriage, he made a vote on the house floor in regards to an adoption bill that seemed, on the face of it, to be a good bill. But, like much legislation, there was a poison pill hidden in the language. These poison pills can just be insufficient detail in the language which could lead to a lot of suffering in the citizenry and takes years to rectify, or a deliberate, bad-faith inclusion of something harmful into a bill that is largely good. Happens all the time. Anyway, Jonathon caught this particular poison pill, which I believe was an unintentional language omission, and voted against the bill.
It’s a dreadful situation to be caught in as a principled legislator, because the public hasn’t read the bill. The few who might read it, often have difficulty understanding the legalize. All they knew about this particular bill was that it was an adoption bill that was supposed to make the adoption process better and less clunky. And they couldn’t understand why a pro-life legislator would vote a bill like that down. “Don’t you want precious children to have a chance at a stable home life!!” In this kind of scenario, people get mad. They call you up and chew you out. It’s a whole big thing. Anyway…
I don’t recall how many angry calls and emails he got for that particular vote because that very day, he got a call from a man whose story made it all worth it. His name is Christopher Emmanuel and he lives just across the state from us. He thanked Jonathon profusely for his vote and told him a little bit of his story and asked to meet with us some day so he could tell us the rest.
Some weeks later, we did meet up with him. Over lunch, he shared his story. I was shocked at what I heard. Rather than repeat what he said, I’m just going to link to an article written about his case. Please read the link below this reminder to share my Substack before proceeding!
A Father’s Fight to Win Back His Daughter
I was thunderstruck. “Wait,” you say, “at 32 years old, this shocked you?” Yes. To understand why, you have to know a bit more about me.
I grew up in a devout Christian home. My parents were late converts to the faith. They both became followers of Christ after they got married in the middle of the sexual revolution. I mean, what a time to make an about face, right? Anyway, the most important thing to them was raising me and my siblings in the faith, instructing us in the word of God…all of it. Including what the Bible had to say about marriage, sexual ethics, divorce…the works. This meant that they had to homeschool us, at great personal sacrifice. My dad was a public school teacher and after his experiences in the system in the mid to late 1970s, my parents certainly weren’t going entrust their own precious kids to that system. And then, after a many more years teaching at multiple private Christian schools, my dad wasn’t about to entrust us to one of them either, though they were better than the alternative, much better. But as my dad intended to enter the ministry, my parents decided to begin homeschooling us in the event we moved somewhere where there wasn’t a good Christian school.
So…I’m going to tell you what they taught me. Feel free to agree or disagree. I only share it so you can see my shock at the above story from my point of view.
They taught me that marriage was between one man and one woman for life, until death took one of the partners. Divorce was prohibited in Scripture for any reason. If there was abuse or criminal behavior going on in the marriage, that was a matter for the police and whoever was guilty would have to face the consequences, but divorce was not an option. Not even for infidelity. Sex, in all of its forms (intercourse, heavy petting, pornography, lust in the mind and heart) was absolutely forbidden outside of the one man, one woman covenant of marriage. Pornography and entertaining lustful thoughts about anyone besides one’s spouse were forbidden inside marriage.
All of us kids were expected to abstain from sex until we married. We knew that if we indulged in that area, our parents would hold us to account and help us overcome that sin. People always mock abstinence only sex education. “And just how are you going to enforce that? Kids are going to have sex, might as well make it safe and blah, blah, blah.” Pretty easy, actually. We were homeschooled, after all, and they kept an eagle eye on us. We weren’t allowed to go on dates alone in cars. If a young fella was interested in me when I was living at home, he could ask my dad to see me. And he could see me at home with the family or in a group setting.
(Incidentally, I arrived to my marriage with Jonathon with zero sexual baggage from past sexual partners. That, friends, is a great advantage and blessing. No regrets there.)
We were also taught that if a couple did divorce, remarriage was not an option. If I had entertained advances from a divorced man in my single days, my parents would never have blessed our union. Period. End of story.
Now, I know that a lot of this seems very extreme, even to many Christians. And some of you are bracing for the forthcoming manifesto about how I’m recovering from the trauma of my childhood in a cult, as such manifestos seem to be all the rage right now.
But I don’t have trauma. What I did have was two parents who fought, tooth and nail, for their marriage. I knew that they loved each other. I knew neither of them were ever leaving. I knew they loved me with a ferocity that an increasing number of children never experience. My home life was stable.
I had zero experience with the court system, much less family court. What’s more, my parents chose my friends. I had no close friends whose parents were divorced. I didn’t know what that world was like. I didn’t have friends who spent weekends with Dad and week days with Mom and Frank, the boyfriend.
And that’s why Christopher’s story hit me like a thunderbolt. Contrary to what some might think, my parents didn’t shield us from the what sin could do to people. I was aware that people had children out of wedlock all the time. I lived for ten years in a very progressive neighborhood where a third of our neighbors were lesbians, homosexuals, and a pedophile lived around the corner! I knew what it was like to live in a world where people don’t live like you do. I wasn’t that naive.
It was the absolute failure of the justice system that alarmed me. It had been occurring to me for a while that the courts in America were not entirely fair. A small dive into the statistics around death row exonerations based on DNA evidence had creeped me out already. Justice was not as blind as I had thought if that many innocent people came that close to losing their lives over insufficient evidence. But I had never heard a more appalling case of rank corruption…where the laws, an adoption agency, and a judicial system conspired to deprive a man of his own child in the most underhanded, sneaky way possible.
What I realized in that moment was that even though Christopher’s story had a happy ending, thousands and thousands of similar stories didn’t…and wouldn’t.
And folks…once you’ve seen something like that, you can’t unsee it.
Jonathon went on to serve a full eight years in office. After that vote, and word got around the state about his vote, he became the representative to call when people were in the throes of a horrible family court situation. He would actually listen to them and try to help, though with the laws as they are, there was precious little he could do for them except listen and try and hook them up with better lawyers.
The victims: There were the odd handful of women who were being raked over the coals in family court by their ex husbands. But the vast majority of the people being demolished through the courts were dads. Men who lost custody of their children for no legitimate reason beyond the judge’s (often a woman) flight of fancy. Some of these guys have not been allowed to speak to their children for years now. All the while, their earnings are drained away with exorbitant alimony payments, guardian ad lidem fees, and court fees. Bled dry, they often get tossed into jail for “failing to pay court mandated fees.” When there’s no money left in a man, you can’t get blood out of a turnip. What we have is a modern day debtor’s prison. The few who got their kids back only got them back because they were wealthy and could afford to fight.
It’s wicked. It is unjust and vile.
I got mad.
And that’s what started me down this whole topic. I began listening to videos from Karen Straugan and Janice Fiamengo. I found the feminist influence in divorce law. From there, I began listening to a red pill content creator who goes by the name of Joker. His podcast is called Better Bachelor. I learned a lot from that. It’s been a wild ride.
So, why am I now concerned about Red Pill heresy in the church? Boy, this is going to take a while. It will also force me to discuss feminism and then feminism in the church…which is always a touchy subject.
I don’t know how long this series is going to be. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to produce the next installment in time for next week. I guess we’ll just take it step by step.
What I can’t do is keep biting my tongue anymore. I’ve been ruminating about this whole tangled mess of issues, movements, and reactions to movements for a long time now. I’m afraid I won’t rest easy until I can get it off my chest and then…let the chips fall where they may.
A good bit of what I’ve absorbed has made its way into 27. Not sure if anyone who has read the book has picked up on this little fact…but all the authority figures in the novel are women. The future’s female, ya know? I can’t help but think back to the wretched virus-that-shall-not-be-named response days as an overreactive, society-wide, maternal response. The smothering mother. And, as you might recall, it was this very insanity that ensued in 2020 which provoked me to pick up my pen again and finish 27.
So, buckle up for the ride and may it be worth our while.
Amanda Barber’s articles, including Red Pill Heresies, are featured on Substack.