Disappointing. Hanna Rosin identifies important threads of improvement in womens' lives, then somehow weaves them into a story of a power hungry, emasculating matriarchal takeover of... the whole world! The facts, and even her own examples, do not support her view.
Here's one instance. Throughout the book, she likes to remind us that single, childless women under thirty make more money, on average, than single, childless men under thirty. This is a misleading statistic, because it's a comparison between highly educated, professional women and blue collar men, the subgroups most likely to make up the unmarried and childless portion of the population. Rosin's own writing hints at this situation when, in the chapter on Asia, she notes that men are too intimidated to marry highly successful women, and women don't marry men too far below them. This creates a surplus of women at the top of the dating pool and a surplus of men at the bottom. Among men and women matched for education and skill set, men continue to out earn women. Does an equally skilled women making less than a man for the same work really look like female dominance?
Rosin might argue that the rise of women, however inevitable, isn't fully accomplished yet. Younger women are going to college more often than younger men, so sooner or later, women will reverse the discrimination that holds them back.
That may be true eventually, but it very well may not be. Stephanie Coontz, in her New York Times article, "The Myth of Male Decline," makes a convincing, facts-based argument that female "superiority" is not the slam dunk juggernaut Rosin describes. Women have made gains, and blue collar men have suffered losses, but sexism is still alive and well.
The End of Men aside, there is no good reason to assume that blue collar men can't adapt to the new economy. Yes, machismo currently holds these men back from education, but who's to say that won't change? Rosin argues that women are plastic, adjusting to new opportunities, while men are cardboard, rigid, fragile, and incapable of growth.
Do men really have to be cardboard, or can men plastic too? Rosin spends most of the book assuming no, but in her conclusion suddenly admits the possibility. It turns out her prototypical cardboard man, the one who'd inspired the entire book, turned plastic. He went back to school to become a nurse. If men turn plastic, Rosin's predictions fall apart. The End of Men may not be such a done deal after all.