ASU West Valley recently celebrated a milestone: nearly 70% of its student population now identifies as women.
That’s quite the statistic. But it also raises a few important questions:
First—how would they know?
What are they counting when they make this claim? Women. And what is that? Anyone who thinks they are a women. And what is it that such people are thinking they are?
Second—what do they plan to do with this information?
ASU West Valley’s web page, where these percentages are reported, says these numbers mean they need to support “vulnerable groups” and pursue “gender equity.”
Naturally, you might think this means they're working to help men, since they're the clear minority on campus. You might think "gender equity" means aiming for a more balanced student body—one that reflects the general population, which is roughly 50/50 men and women.
But no.
Despite women making up 70% of the student population, they’re still defined as the “vulnerable” group by ASU West Valley. Equity, it turns out, is a one-way street.
When radical ideologues talk about equity and justice, they point to unequal outcomes as proof of structural injustice. But what happens when the outcome flips—when the “dominant” group becomes the minority, and the “vulnerable” group becomes the supermajority? Now we have clearly different outcomes against men. They show us that this never mattered. It was always about imposing their ideology.
Nothing. No concern. No reevaluation. No new strategy.
Instead, they press the gas pedal. ASU West Valley doesn’t see the growing gender imbalance as a problem to fix—they see it as a trend to accelerate. Male enrollment declines? Not an issue. In fact, ASU West Valley sees it as a chance to decrease the percentage of men on campus to “help the vulnerable” group. And that raises the uncomfortable but necessary question:
How far do they want this to go?
Would they celebrate an 80% female campus? 90%?
At what point does “equity” turn into exclusion?
At what percentage do male students finally qualify as the underrepresented group in need of support?
This isn’t just bad math—it’s bad faith. It’s an ideological agenda dressed up as compassion. It’s a program that speaks the language of inclusion while actively presiding over the quiet displacement of young men from higher education.
Why aren’t young men attending? One of the funniest things you ever did see is a faculty meeting full of professors and administrators trying to figure this out. They simply can’t understand it. Why would young men not want to come to their campus and be educated about how bad they are? And why are humanities classes especially low in male enrollment? The professor stands up and helps them understand why they should hate their history, hate themselves, and be seen as oppressors. And yet, somehow, they just can’t figure out why these classes aren’t filled to the top. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.
Parents in the West Valley:
Is ASU West Valley a good fit for your sons?
Young men in the West Valley:
Do the values expressed on ASU West Valley’s own website reflect an institution that wants you there?
The numbers—and the philosophy behind them—speak for themselves.