Male privilege and entitlement are dying a very painful death; no

“Male privilege and entitlement are dying a very painful death; no one gives up power without a struggle.” Thus declared Gloria Allred, the fierce advocate and champion of women’s rights, whose words strike like a hammer against the ancient walls of inequality. Her statement is both prophecy and warning—a recognition that the age-old dominion of male privilege is not surrendered easily, and that the road toward equality, though righteous, will be steep, bloody, and long. For in every era of history, those who have held power have clung to it as though it were their birthright. To strip power from the hands of the privileged is to awaken fear, resistance, and rage. Yet as Allred reminds us, the pain of that dying order is also the sound of rebirth—of justice being born through struggle.

The origin of this quote lies in the crucible of Allred’s decades-long fight for gender equality. As a lawyer and activist, she has stood for women who were silenced, scorned, and shamed by systems built to protect the powerful. Her words arose in the context of a changing world—the waves of feminism, the #MeToo movement, the reckoning of long-buried truths about abuse and domination. To her, the “painful death” of privilege is not metaphorical—it is the grinding, agonizing process of dismantling centuries of hierarchy. For when she speaks of entitlement, she does not mean only the arrogance of individual men, but the vast structure of laws, customs, and beliefs that have upheld the myth that power belongs naturally to one gender.

From the dawn of civilization, this pattern has been seen in all struggles for liberation. The powerful rarely yield without resistance. When the slaves of Rome sought their freedom under Spartacus, the empire crushed them with legions. When the serfs of medieval Europe rose against their lords, their rebellion was drowned in blood. When the colonies sought independence from their kings, it was through war and sacrifice that liberty was born. So too now, the ancient system of patriarchy—a rule woven into language, religion, and culture—is convulsing as it dies. Its defenders cry out, its walls shake, but its fall is inevitable. For though the oppressor may fight, the tide of truth always advances.

Consider the story of Emmeline Pankhurst and the suffragettes of early twentieth-century Britain. They faced imprisonment, hunger strikes, and violence merely for demanding the right to vote. The government called them criminals; society called them hysterical. Yet they endured, knowing that their suffering was not in vain. They understood, as Allred does, that power concedes nothing without pressure, and that justice must be wrested from the grip of privilege. When the right to vote was finally won, it was not given—it was taken, through courage and persistence. Theirs was not just a political battle but a spiritual one, fought to awaken the soul of humanity to the truth that equality is not a gift, but a birthright.

Gloria Allred carries the same fire in her voice. She recognizes that the struggle for gender equality is not yet complete—that though laws may change, hearts and habits resist. The old order clings to life, disguised in subtler forms: in unequal pay, in silencing of voices, in the double standards of leadership and morality. But its death is certain, because the world has already glimpsed what stands beyond it. The rise of women in leadership, the exposure of abuses once hidden, the solidarity among those who refuse to be silent—all these are signs that the struggle bears fruit. Yet Allred’s warning is clear: progress is never painless, for every act of liberation shakes the comfort of those who have known only dominance.

Her words also speak to a deeper human truth about power itself. For it is not only men who resist the loss of privilege—anyone who benefits from an unjust system will cling to it, whether knowingly or not. The struggle Allred describes is not merely between genders, but between the old world and the new, between the comfort of inequality and the promise of justice. True equality demands humility—the courage to relinquish advantage, to listen rather than command, to build rather than dominate. And this, perhaps, is why the death of privilege is so painful: it requires the powerful to be transformed, not defeated.

So, my friends, learn from the wisdom of Gloria Allred, whose voice calls not only for justice, but for endurance. When she says that “no one gives up power without a struggle,” she reminds us that the work of freedom is lifelong. Do not be dismayed by the resistance you encounter when seeking fairness; it is the sign that the old order trembles. Stand firm, as the suffragettes did, as all reformers have done, and know that progress born of struggle endures more deeply than comfort ever could.

And finally, take this lesson into your own life: in every place where privilege hides—in your family, your work, your society, even within your own heart—seek to uproot it with compassion and courage. For equality is not merely a battle of rights; it is a labor of love, a cleansing of the human soul. Let the death of entitlement be the birth of empathy. Let the fall of arrogance give rise to understanding. And when the world groans in the throes of change, remember that this pain is the sound of something holy being born—the sound of justice learning to breathe.