What's Going On With White Men?
How white men were sold a story, and why they need a better one.
I’ve already endured intense “whitelash” for raising the question in this article. This work takes a toll, but your support keeps me going. Become a paid subscriber today.
White men tend to be outliers in not-good ways.
Take last Tuesday’s elections. Democrats won decisively. People called it a “blue wave.”
But when you dig into the polling data, white men stand apart.
In Virginia’s governor’s race, voters chose between two women: Democrat Abigail Spanberger, who is white, and Republican Winsome Earle-Sears, who is Black.
A slim majority of white voters overall—53 percent—supported the Republican candidate. But break that down by gender, and the gap widens: 61 percent of white men voted for the Republican, while 54 percent of white women voted Democrat.
Black voters supported Spanberger by a staggering 93 percent, Latino voters by 67 percent, and Asian voters by 80 percent.
In other words, white men were the only major demographic group to vote Republican by a clear majority.
Voting Republican doesn’t automatically mean something is “wrong.”
But when a single demographic consistently diverges from every other group—across race, education, and gender—it’s worth asking why.
A Brief History of Dominance
The story of white male exceptionalism didn’t begin with this election cycle, it was built into the nation’s foundation.
From the earliest days of colonial America, white men were the only people who could legally own property, vote, and hold power.
Laws like the Naturalization Act of 1790 defined citizenship around “free white persons,” but in practice that meant white men—since women, though nominally included, could not vote or hold property independently.
That sense of ordained superiority was sanctified in churches, codified in laws, and reinforced in culture.
White men were not only the protagonists of America’s story, they were the ones writing it.
Even as civil rights movements extended the franchise to all Black people and many other historically excluded groups, white men continued to cling to the levers of power.
In the post–Civil Rights era, many white men perceived these gains for others as personal losses for themselves.
Political appeals to “law and order” or “family values” masked a deeper anxiety.
The fear of no longer being at the center of the story.
The Shrinking Center
For generations, white men made up the majority of voters and decision-makers in America.
But that dominance is eroding.
Census data shows that by 2045, the U.S. will be a majority–minority nation.
Each election cycle, white men make up a smaller share of the electorate, and the old certainties of racial and gender hierarchy lose their hold.
Sociologists like PRRI’s Robert P. Jones note that this demographic shift has created what he calls a “great white Christian nationalist freakout”—a backlash fueled not by genuine oppression but by the loss of unearned status.
When you’re used to privilege, equality feels like oppression.
A Distinct Voting Pattern
The Virginia exit polls are representative of a broader trend.
Across the country, white men remain the most reliable Republican voting bloc, while voters of color and women overwhelmingly support Democratic candidates.
PRRI data reinforces this divide.
Between 2016 and 2024, the percentage of young white men (ages 18–29) identifying as conservative climbed from 33 percent to 38 percent, while the same number plummeted among Black men (from 27 percent to 16 percent) and Hispanic men (from 27 percent to 20 percent).
These statistics represent more than just political preference. They are signs of identity formation.
For many white men, conservative politics have become a way of reaffirming their central place in the American narrative.
The “culture wars” aren’t only about policy; they’re about belonging.
Outliers in Violence and Alienation
The divergence extends beyond the ballot box. White men are also overrepresented in acts of political and social violence.
According to the Rockefeller Institute, white men have committed over half of all public mass shootings in modern U.S. history—far more than any other group.
The violence enacted by white men tells a story of alienation.
The same demographic that once saw itself as the nation’s backbone now feels sidelined and disoriented.
That disorientation can metastasize into rage which gets channeled through online radicalization, misogynistic subcultures like the incel movement, and the violent theology of white Christian nationalism.
Many of these men are not drawn to violence because they are inherently monstrous, but because they’ve been stripped of community, purpose, and empathy.
The Story They Were Sold
For centuries, white men have been told a story about who they are: the conquerors, the leaders, the moral compass of civilization.
The problem is that this story was never true, and maintaining the illusion has become unbearable.
In a society moving toward greater diversity and equity, the myth of supremacy has cracked. And when the only story you know is being on top, you will do anything to avoid falling through them.
There are plenty of exceptions.
The white men who rejected the lie: Dietrich Bonhoeffer. John Brown. Charles Morgan, Jr. David Black, and many others.
The question is how to get more white men to reject the myth of superiority and centrality, and embrace a more realistic and humane narrative.
A Better Story to Enter Into
White men need a story that sets them free not one that keeps them trapped in the myth of dominance.
It must be exhausting to uphold superiority.
The armor of invulnerability. The sword of ego that strikes at others’ dignity. The quiet fear that if you’re not in control, you’ll be nothing.
There is another way.
The gospel offers rest for the weary and heavy-laden. Rest from posturing, from proving, from pretending.
White men can lay down the burden of being “on top.”
They can choose solidarity over supremacy, empathy over entitlement, curiosity over control.
And that story doesn’t have to come from me. I don’t propose to have the solution—or the story—they need to believe.
That’s work white people must do among themselves: to tell a truer story, one that includes repentance and repair, courage and humility, justice and joy.
It must begin not with dominance but with confession—the courage to name the false gods of power, privilege, and control.
Then comes curiosity, and the willingness to learn from those once silenced.
After that, community. The rebuilding of relationships not based on hierarchy but on shared dignity.
And finally, service which concerns the choice to use one’s influence for repair rather than rule.
As Richard Rohr reminds us,
“Death and life are two sides of the same coin; we cannot have one without the other. Each time we choose to surrender, each time we trust the dying, our faith is led to a deeper level, and we discover a Larger Self underneath.”
For white men, the loss of supremacy can become the birth of solidarity…if they are willing to die to the old story.
What’s Going On With White Men?
So what’s really going on with white men?
They’re caught between the death of one story and the birth of another.
Between the myth of being exceptional and the truth of being equal. Between the fear of irrelevance and the possibility of redemption.
The question is no longer whether white men will remain at the center of America’s story.
It is whether they can help write a new one. One that doesn’t require anyone else to be small in order for them to matter.
Supremacy cannot offer salvation. Power is not purpose. And the only story worth telling is the one that sets everyone free.








As an old white male, I agree with your assessment:
"When you’re used to privilege, equality feels like oppression."
However, what may feel like oppression for some of us, looks to me like an opportunity. I not only anticipate, I celebrate the increasing diversity in leadership which the future will hold. Since privilege and power corrupt, my hope is that equality will have a different effect on white males like me and on all of us.
I think the sentence: When you’ve had privilege, equality feels like oppression, speaks loudly! This is an excellent question and needs to be truly considered. I’m thankful to know some white men who do…but yes there’s a long way to go. Thanks for your work.