Mencken Gender Test

When H. L. Mencken published In Defense of Women in 1918, he wasn’t trying to flatter anyone—least of all women. The title is ironic, the tone biting, and the content a blend of admiration, mockery, and reluctant awe. In typical Mencken fashion, it’s a book that says the opposite of what you think it’s saying—until you realize it’s actually saying both. He argues, with a wink and a grimace, that women are not only equal to men but often superior in cunning, emotional intelligence, and adaptability. But make no mistake: this is not feminism as we know it today. It’s Menckenism—sharp, cynical, and allergic to sentiment.

At its core, In Defense of Women is less a defense and more a dissection. Mencken dismantles romantic illusions, marriage myths, and the vainglorious self-image of the male ego. He paints men as idealistic dopes, bumbling through life under the illusion that they are in charge, while women quietly orchestrate outcomes from behind the curtain. He doesn't praise women so much as he marvels at their strategic brilliance—particularly in how they manage relationships, emotional expression, and power without appearing to wield it.

The book reads less like a social theory and more like a boxing match between the sexes, refereed by a man who doesn't particularly like either fighter. Mencken was a journalist first, and his prose is quick, brutal, and often funny. He doesn’t offer solutions, just observations—many of which still feel startlingly relevant today. His take on romantic relationships sounds uncannily like the modern critique of dating app culture: performative, strategic, and full of games masquerading as sincerity.

Of course, much of what Mencken says is wildly outdated or provocatively overstated by design. He didn’t believe in progress, at least not moral progress, and his views on gender are steeped in early 20th-century attitudes. But for all his curmudgeonly posturing, there’s a certain modernity to his insights. He understood, long before dating coaches and psychology blogs, that much of what happens in love and courtship is theater. Scripts. Signals. Performances. Power masked as passion.

So why revisit this book now? Because it’s an artifact of brutal honesty—or at least theatrical honesty. It’s also unexpectedly funny. Mencken doesn’t ask you to agree with him. He dares you to argue. And in doing so, he helps strip away some of the fog that still clouds how we think about love, gender, and partnership.

This quiz draws directly from the five archetypes Mencken sketched (or implied) across the sexes. Each question is inspired by his observations—sometimes verbatim, often translated into today’s language. It’s part satire, part self-reflection. Think of it less as a test and more as a mirror, tilted slightly, with a smirk.