Let the masculine lay the foundations—but let the feminine remind us why we build, Kayla Carman writes.

Join us on Telegram, Twitter, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

The world is on fire; sometimes literally, usually metaphorically, always spiritually. Political chaos simmers beneath a veneer of civility. The West capitulates, the skies burn, and the news cycles churn out fear like it’s a vital organ. There’s no time to reflect, no time to breathe. Everything is noise. And somehow, amid all this motion, humanity is still lost.

Why? Because the balance has been broken. The ancient dance between yin and yang, between the masculine and feminine principles, has become a clumsy solo. The divine feminine—source of compassion, intuition, creation, nurturing, empathy, and cyclical wisdom—has been systematically exiled from the thrones of power. And without her, all that’s left is conquest without conscience, structure without soul, and innovation without meaning.

Civilisations have long understood the necessity of balance. The Taoist symbol of yin and yang, the sacred feminine in Hindu Shakti, the Great Mother in Indigenous cosmologies, and Sophia in Gnostic Christianity each acknowledge that the cosmos functions through harmony, not dominance. But look around today and you’ll see that our institutions have mistaken domination for order. They’ve enthroned the divine masculine—logic, hierarchy, aggression, and ambition—without his eternal counterpart.

This isn’t about gender. Let’s make that abundantly clear before someone clutches their pearls or their pitchforks. The divine feminine is not synonymous with women, just as the divine masculine is not exclusive to men. These are archetypal energies that run through all beings. Yet our global systems—be they political, economic, educational, or medical—have been engineered almost entirely through the lens of divine masculine excess. The result? A grotesque parody of progress.

Our governments march forward like generals without maps. Policy is measured in GDP and body counts. The UK Parliament and U.S. Congress are prime examples—arenas of constant combat where collaboration is weakness and compassion is electoral suicide. Debate is performance. Legislation is strategy. The result is a hamster wheel of rules devoid of humanity. Healthcare becomes a profit-making algorithm. Education becomes a system of metrics that churns out obedience rather than insight. Justice becomes punishment, not healing.

Corporate boardrooms reflect the same imbalance. Tech giants speak of disruption as if chaos is a virtue. Silicon Valley is littered with men who worship abstract progress but can’t sit still long enough to ask if it’s positive, benevolent, or even sane. Empathy is seen as an HR liability. Workplaces reward linear, aggressive thinking while dismissing intuition and shoving emotional intelligence into a dusty drawer labelled “CPD soft skills.”

And then there’s war, still the most prized expression of state masculinity. When diplomacy fails, which it does often and spectacularly, we send drones. We destabilise. We sanction. We occupy. We prop up. The masculine principle, when unchecked, devours complexity and demands submission. So we watched Iraq burn under the false pretext of weapons that never existed. Libya “liberated” into a failed state. Innocent civilians, mainly children, obliterated by IDF soldiers with as little conscience as the Nazis that obliterated their ancestors, but this time it’s not genocide? And the media, masquerading as a neutral observer, acts more like a cheerleader in combat boots. Where is the feminine principle that says pause, listen, feel, and consider? She’s gagged in a corner while Raytheon and BAE Systems dine with diplomats.

Those that misogynistically decry that there’s no room for the feminine concepts of emotionality and feelings when dealing with the sober realms of politics, law, and order would point to caricatures of histrionic women unable to reach informed, intelligent, and logical decisions. It is, however, that very same emotionality, fearlessness of vulnerability, and empathy that would demand cooperation, flexibility, understanding, and solutions before the divine feminine would send any of her sons to die a dramatic death within the theatre of war. Whilst there are numerous instances of the divine masculine logic being synonymous with the voice of reason, perhaps in the most important incident, whilst the warrior archetype puffs its chest and beats the drum for action, conflict, and ultimately war, it is the divine feminine that is less gung-ho and becomes the voice of the sacredness of life, therefore the voice of reason.

The rot begins early. Our schools are conveyor belts of competition, achievement, and obedience. Children are tested, ranked, and streamed before they’ve even figured out who they are. Curiosity is boxed. Intuition is ignored. Play is confined within boundaries under the guise of safety. Transhumanism is pushed subtly. The divine feminine is laughed off as flaky, emotional, woo-woo nonsense, unless it can be commodified into mindfulness apps and sold back to us as corporate wellness.

But what happens when control through coercion no longer works? When the media’s fear campaigns—climate panic, pandemic hysteria, and war drums—begin to lose their grip? When the spell of manipulation starts to fray? The unbalanced state, like any unhinged entity with too much masculine energy, resorts to brute force. Protests are met with riot gear and rubber bullets. Peaceful demonstrators are labelled extremists. In the UK, the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act gives authorities sweeping powers to shut down dissent if it’s deemed a nuisance. In the U.S., police militarisation has turned cities into battle zones. Journalists are arrested, and whistleblowers, like Snowden, are in exile. COVID lockdowns saw neighbours report each other and police violently enforce curfews. In Canada, peaceful truckers protesting mandates had their bank accounts frozen. The message is clear: question the masculine aggressiveness of the system, and the benevolent, patriarchal gloves come off.

Tokenism, of course, is offered up as a substitute for real change. A few women in boardrooms. A Black president. A gay CEO. A First Nations flag waving quietly in the corner while Indigenous land is still bulldozed. But the divine feminine cannot be reduced to identity politics. She is not merely the presence of women, nor is she invoked by having more photogenic diversity in oppressive systems. If the women who rise to power are trained in the same toxic masculine traits—if they govern like Margaret Thatcher or behave like Hillary Clinton or Victoria Nuland, wielding war and neoliberal austerity as their swords—then we haven’t balanced anything. We’ve simply dressed the patriarchy in ill-fitting heels. You can’t polish a turd, but you can dress it in designer clothes and expensive jewellery and have it masquerading as progress when these “women” doubtfully have even a soul, let alone divine feminine energy coursing through their veins, probably too hyped on adrenochrome, to help heal this deeply disturbed planet.

The divine feminine is not a face or a quota. She is a way. She listens before she speaks. She nurtures before she builds. She tends to the roots, not just the harvest. She honours cycles, not just growth charts. She values life over leverage. She is found in truth-telling, in reconciliation, in community, in regeneration. And she has been exiled from every corridor of Western power.

It is no coincidence that as this exile became a global norm, so did spiritual malaise, ecological devastation, and systemic burnout. We do not simply need more women in power. We need more feminine energy in power, embodied by anyone brave enough to lead with heart, humility, and wholeness.

So how do we restore this balance? or, more realistically, create it anew?

First, we step away from the crumbling empires. The institutions are too far gone. Reform is their favourite illusion. What we need is not better bureaucracy but parallel systems: communities rooted in reciprocity, care, and creative autonomy. Think land trusts, co-ops, mutual aid networks, radical schools, and spiritual hubs that value healing as much as strategy.

Second, we must remember how to value the invisible. The unseen labour of care. The seasons of rest. The wisdom of intuition. The art of listening deeply. In a world obsessed with data and proof, the divine feminine offers something terrifying to the rational mind: the mystery.

Third, we cultivate inner sovereignty. Because balance begins within. Each of us must unlearn the grind culture, the internalised boss, and the productivity whip. We must reclaim the parts of ourselves we buried to survive: the dreamer, the healer, the feeler, and the mystic. Without inner revolution, outer systems will always recreate the old wounds.

Finally, we teach. Not just children, but each other. We share what we remember. We gather in circles, not just hierarchies. We honour stories, not just statistics. We model the world we want, even when the old one looms large.

Because from that balance—divine feminine and divine masculine dancing in tandem—comes not just peace, but evolution. New systems. New art. New technology rooted in care. New governance rooted in dignity. New communities where power is shared, not hoarded. That is the only kind of future that grows anything worth inheriting.

We are not here to perfect the broken. We are here to birth the beautiful. Let the masculine lay the foundations—but let the feminine remind us why we build. Only then will this madness make way for meaning. Only then will we be whole and able to create a future world that feels inspiring, as opposed to hopeless, for our children.