The op-ed “The Men Who Exploited Lily Phillips Should Be Ashamed” blames men for Lily Phillips’ shocking publicity stunts while completely misunderstanding the psychology of what’s really going on. Feminism often claims to empower women by holding men accountable for their supposed role in driving women’s choices. Yet, in this case, it is not men’s fantasies at play, but a fantasy that caters almost exclusively to women’s desires and ambitions. The author’s attempts to shift the blame to men reveal a stunning ignorance of human nature and culture, and a refusal to hold women accountable for their own actions.

Let’s be clear: the idea of 100 men with 1 woman is not, and has never been, a typical male fantasy. Men are overwhelmingly repulsed by the idea of sharing a woman with dozens, let alone hundreds, of other men. A “gang bang” scenario doesn’t stroke male egos; it annihilates them. Men, by nature, are biologically wired toward exclusivity in regards to other men. This isn’t some fringe observation; it’s a cornerstone of human behavior, rooted in evolutionary psychology. The fantasy of being the “center of attention,” surrounded by scores of men vying for her, is far more in line with a female fantasy. Lily Phillips is acting on her own motivations here, not fulfilling the so-called fantasies of men.

Phillips’ actions not only subvert the notion of male fantasies but may also victimize some of the men involved. One man in her “101 challenge” admitted that he lost his virginity during the stunt. Let’s pause and consider this for a moment. Feminists argue that men exploit women in these scenarios, yet who is exploiting who, when a woman with immense sexual power is capitalizing on the vulnerabilities of men, some of whom may lack sexual experience or emotional readiness? Losing one’s virginity in a highly impersonal, transactional setting is far from empowering. It is degrading, regardless of gender.

This leads to a broader truth that feminism often ignores: women hold the overwhelming balance of power when it comes to sex. Women are the deciders of who has sex. Men, on the other hand, are the gatekeepers of relationships, but in the realm of sex itself, women choose their partners. As a result, women also hold the cards when it comes to determining which sexual fantasies are played out. Men, by contrast, often have far fewer options and take what they can get. This dynamic is not a patriarchal construct but a biological reality.

By blaming men for what is clearly a female-driven endeavor, the original op-ed conveniently sidesteps the uncomfortable truth of female sexual agency. Phillips is not a victim of exploitation; she is a woman leveraging her sexual power to achieve fame and fortune. She chose to sleep with 101 men in a single day and is now planning to escalate her stunts to 1,000 men in 24 hours. These are not the actions of a woman manipulated by male fantasies but of someone actively cultivating her own brand of infamy, marketing herself on platforms like OnlyFans to a niche audience. The reality is, men have far less choice in who they can sleep with than women do, and this imbalance underscores why Phillips is the one wielding the power here.

The call to shut down platforms like OnlyFans further illustrates the contradictions within modern feminism. Feminists initially championed OnlyFans as a tool of liberation, celebrating its ability to empower women to earn money directly from their own labor (“sex work is work”). Now, when the actions of women like Phillips challenge feminist sensibilities, the platform is suddenly labeled as a tool of male oppression. Which is it? Either women are empowered and responsible for their choices, or they are not. The constant flip-flopping undermines the credibility of the feminist movement itself.

The author’s conflation of Phillips’ actions with the plight of trafficked women or those forced into prostitution is disingenuous and dangerous. Phillips is not a victim of coercion. She is a willing participant in her stunts, fully aware of the publicity and financial benefits they bring. To equate her deliberate actions with the suffering of women trapped in systems of exploitation trivializes real victimhood and deflects attention from genuine issues of abuse.

The deeper truth here is that Phillips’ antics cater not to men but to herself. She is creating an identity and a brand around her extreme behavior, banking on the controversy and shock value it generates. That this may carry personal and emotional consequences is not the fault of the men who consume her content; it is the natural result of her own decisions.

If feminism is serious about empowering women, it must stop treating them as helpless victims of male fantasies and start holding them accountable for their choices. Women like Lily Phillips are not pawns in a patriarchal game; they are independent agents navigating their lives on their own terms, for better or worse. By blaming men, feminists dodge the hard conversations about female responsibility and choice, opting instead for the easy scapegoat of “male desire.”

Men don’t need to be ashamed of themselves for creating Lily Phillips, since it’s not a male fantasy to see her gang banged by 100 men. They’re not the ones driving her behavior. The only shame here lies in the refusal to acknowledge reality: Lily is a woman pursuing her own ambitions, and this spectacle is a product of her fantasy, not theirs.