If the world were a logical place, men would ride side saddle.

Hear the sharp and playful wisdom of Rita Mae Brown, who declared: “If the world were a logical place, men would ride side saddle.” At first hearing, her words strike like a jest, but within them lies an irony that unravels centuries of custom and exposes the absurdities of gender and tradition. It is not truly about the saddle, but about how society builds its rules—not upon reason, but upon habit, prejudice, and the weight of unexamined convention.

For to ride side saddle was, for centuries, demanded of women. Not because it was more practical, nor more comfortable, but because modesty and appearances decreed it so. Women were told that to straddle a horse was unfeminine, unseemly, even scandalous. Yet this unnatural posture placed them at risk, weakened their control, and often made the art of riding far more dangerous. Still, custom prevailed, and what was illogical was called proper. Thus, when Brown declares that by logic men themselves should ride side saddle, she reveals the absurdity: if modesty and vulnerability were the measure, it should be demanded of men.

History gives us a clear picture of this contradiction. In the courts of Europe, noblewomen were expected to ride side saddle while their brothers, fathers, and husbands rode astride in comfort and command. Queen Elizabeth I, though a woman of formidable will, was bound by this custom, even as she commanded fleets and armies. The logic of control, balance, and power pointed toward astride, but the logic of appearances bound her to side saddle. It was only in the late 19th and early 20th centuries that women began to defy this custom, claiming both safety and dignity in choosing to ride as men had long done.

Brown’s quote shines a mirror upon these traditions, not merely to laugh at them but to remind us that much of what is accepted in society is not born of reason, but of fear, control, and inertia. If the world were logical, many of the restrictions placed upon women—and indeed upon all people—would vanish in an instant. Logic would ask: Why limit half of humanity? Why chain natural ability to custom? Why cling to appearances that rob life of freedom and truth?

And yet, this truth is not confined to horses and saddles. The same principle governs all arenas where custom outweighs sense: when women were barred from education, when men were told not to weep, when castes and classes were set as unmovable by birth. None of these laws were logical; they were artifices, imposed to preserve power. Brown, with wit, pierces through these illusions, reminding us that reason itself is often absent from the very rules that claim dignity.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not trust the world merely because it is old or customary. Question. Examine. Ask whether what you see is truly logical or simply inherited from ages past. Be wary of rules that bind without reason, of traditions that suffocate while pretending to protect. For much of human sorrow has come not from nature, but from the chains men have placed upon one another, often defended in the name of propriety.

Practical is this counsel: look around your own life and society. Where do you see “side saddles” still forced upon people—expectations that bind them not for their good, but for the comfort of others? Challenge them. Free yourself, and if you are able, free others. Choose what strengthens, not what weakens. Honor logic, but greater still, honor fairness and truth. In this way, you will walk not bound by appearances, but carried by freedom.

So remember Rita Mae Brown’s words: “If the world were a logical place, men would ride side saddle.” Take them as both a jest and a challenge. For humor often cuts deepest, and irony often unmasks folly more swiftly than anger. Let it remind you that the world is not always as it should be, but that change begins in seeing clearly, laughing at the absurd, and daring to choose a better way.