62 Million Views Later, the Conversation Hasn’t Changed ‒ Why Women Are Tired of Explaining "Not All Men"
In recent days, a familiar ritual has re-emerged across social media feeds: videos of women reminding one another to stay alert, to watch their drinks, and to remain vigilant even in spaces that should feel safe. What begins as practical advice quickly unfolds into something more revealing, a collective acknowledgment of a reality that is rarely named so plainly. Alongside these videos, a phrase has circulated widely: "not all men, but 62 million," echoing reactions to a recent investigation by CNN. The investigation described a website where men allegedly exchanged explicit instructions on how to drug women and record sexual assaults. Reports detailed so-called "eyecheck" videos, in which perpetrators lifted the eyelids of unconscious victims, alongside claims of livestreamed abuse hidden behind cryptocurrency payments. In February alone, the platform reportedly drew 62 million views. What emerged was not simply an archive of violence, but a system in which harm was taught, shared, and normalized within semi-public digital spaces. What is perhaps most unsettling is not only the content itself, but the scale and structure that allowed it to exist. These were not isolated conversations at the fringes of the internet, but part of a broader ecosystem in which such material could circulate widely, becoming searchable, accessible, and, ultimately, sustained.
For a brief moment, the public response reflected the gravity of those findings. However, the focus quickly shifted towards the language used to describe the scale of the issue. Was it 62 million users, or "just" 62 million views? Almost as quickly as the story broke, attention moved away from the conditions that made such a platform possible and towards the perceived imprecision of those calling attention to it. The phrase "not all men, but 62 million" was reframed as an overgeneralization, rather than an expression of alarm.
In that shift, something essential was lost. The urgency that initially accompanied the reporting narrowed into a debate about tone, accuracy, and interpretation. What began as a confrontation with a disturbing system somehow turned into a conversation about the framing of that system. It is a pattern so predictable it no longer surprises, only exhausts. The phrase "not all men" reappears, as it always does, reframing a structural concern into a question of individual innocence. The burden shifts almost immediately. Instead of confronting the implications of what has been revealed, women are once again asked to qualify, soften, and contextualize their reactions. Again and again, discussions of harm are redirected into discussions of language, leaving those who raise concerns tasked with explaining, clarifying, and defending the very reality they are describing.
Yet beyond the debate lies a reality that is neither abstract nor rare. According to UN Women, on average, more than five women or girls are killed every hour by a partner or family member worldwide. Sexual violence remains pervasive, affecting women across all ages, backgrounds, and geographies. For many, these are not distant statistics but reflections of a pattern they recognize in their own lives or in the experiences of those around them.
This awareness begins early. Young women, often still in adolescence, learn to calculate risk in ways that shape how they move through the world. They learn which routes feel safer, which situations to avoid, how to read a room, and how to leave one. Over time, these experiences became so normalized that they are rarely questioned, only managed.
In this context, the distinction between millions of users and millions of views offers little reassurance. Whether participation is direct or indirect, the scale itself signals a level of engagement that cannot be dismissed. More importantly, it reinforces an understanding that the possibility of harm is not evenly distributed, and that the burden of navigating that reality continues to fall disproportionately on women.
The phrase “not all men” may be factually accurate, but it remains misaligned with the concern it seeks to answer. The question has never been whether every man poses a threat. It has always been whether enough do, and whether the system that enables them remains.
Sixty-two million views later, the conversation has not changed. The focus drifts, the language is dissected, and the urgency continues to fade. What remains is a familiar imbalance, in which the conditions that allow harm to persist receive less attention than the words used to describe them, and the responsibility to explain continues to fall on those already living with the consequences.
WRITTEN BY
Michelle
I write about the stories and emotions that shape music, culture and conversations. While exploring the impact of media and pop culture, I like to put a particular focus on the voices of women and their evolving place in the industry. I am especially drawn to interviews that go beyond the surface, uncovering the perspectives and personalities behind the work.
