The Coward's Glance: A Common Folly of Men New to Red Pill Philosophy.

The Coward’s Glance

Summary: The typical beta method of attracting initial female attention is a losing proposition, and should be avoided at all cost. It should instead be replaced with confident, Alpha behavior.

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A beta enters a grocery store on a routine errand. He’s not just here for a bag of finely shredded mozzarella and a six pack of overpriced “craft” beer manufactured by Budwiser under a different label; his cooter-obsessed mind turns even this day-to-day chore into a hunt for a potential mate.

As he traverses the aisles, taking the longest path possible to the dairy section so as to maximize the possibility for an oft-dreamt-of chance encounter with his one true soul mate, he spots a woman purposely browsing the coffee selection. At last! This will be the one! The extreme SMV deficit in her favor be damned!

The beta initiates a process all men universally refer to as “checking her out”. He appreciates her assets: her round bottom, her narrow waist, her ample (but not oversized!) bosom as seen from the side while she reaches into the topstock for her selection. Then, when his gaze is somewhere between her tits and her neck, the beta’s intended target sniffs the air. She smells a unique combination of misplaced enthusiasm, egregious self-overestimation, and desperation; this scent alerts her to the presence of our beta. She turns her head to find him.

This is the moment that separates a beta from an Alpha. To those readers new to Red Pill philosophy, do not be ashamed if the following describes you; it is how we have all been enculturated by this society since we were children. It is important, however, to recognize this pattern, absorb it, and examine it in a new light. As the woman turns her head to seek out the source of the offending stench, the beta will do one of two things:

The bravest of betas will avert their eyes, though not their entire gaze, and favor the woman with a smile intended to convey friendliness and approachability, though it only comes off as the macrocephalic lovechild of awkward and cringy.

Our beta, however, is a more typical beta, in that his spine is more akin to taffeta than steel. He tries to look away quickly, in an attempt to not offend his better; if he's caught treating her as an object for his sexual gratification, the International Beta Society will make him shave his neckbeard. Unfortunately, with human reaction time being what it is (and especially since 70% of his blood supply is not in his brain, but pooling in his grotesquely swollen testicles), he will never quite be quick enough. The woman will easily see his sudden, frightened movement and ken his intentions.

The beta thinks himself to be quite sneaky, and will repeat this process ad nauseum, quickly earning him the epithet of “creepy”. Not because he’s checking her out, but because his furtive, prey-like attitude is entirely disgusting.

The beta will ultimately run out of excuses to continue lamely stalking his victim, and finally acquire his hippy beer and economy bag of cheese. This beta will go home and fap to outlandish, impossible fantasies of doing naughty, shameful, sexist things to the woman whose path he crossed. A braver beta, the one who tried to smile, will sulk his way home, fuming over his perceived rejection; with one hand, he will tweet or blog about how girls are so mean to nice guys, and with the other hand, he will furiously beat his micropenis to console himself over his own immense loserdom.

Let’s examine this interaction, shall we? What was gained? What was lost?

The benefits for the woman:

1. The beta’s wild-eyed antics have affirmed that she is sexually desirable,
2. The beta’s aversion to being caught (or his submissive smile) has affirmed that she is indeed the superior creature, a goddess for whom care must be taken not to offend. (This sense of superiority affects not just our hapless beta, but all men who have the misfortune to enter the woman’s sphere in the immediate future. In effect, he has raised the difficulty level for any following Alpha hoping to work his magic.)

The detriments for the woman:

None. She has lost nothing, spent nothing, exchanged nothing.

The benefits for the beta:

1. The privilege of catching sly glances out of the corner of his eye of assets he will never have the opportunity to touch
2. A three-inch hardon.

The detriments for the beta:

1. Losing up to half an hour of his life to an inevitably fruitless pursuit,
2. An inescapable sense of rejection; he may not recognize it as such consciously, but his frequently-ignored lizard brain will gleefully inform him of it all the same.
3. A sense of cultural shame, for behaving in such a sexist, troglodytic manner and possibly causing discomfort or fear to such a perfect goddess; he will be forced to go to Reddit and do penance for his unnecessary guilt by whiteknighting in TwoXChromosomes.

As you can see, in this interaction the beta has suffered greatly, sacrificed much of whatever is left of his dignity and self-worth in order to provide a random stranger with a head rush of power and authority. This is not good.

But what would an Alpha do? Let’s watch.

An Alpha enters the same grocery store. He seeks only to powerwalk to the fruit section, pick up a pair of kiwis and maybe a box of blueberries before striding over to dairy aisle for a pint of heavy cream. Clearly, he has plans and is not overly interested in trolling for low-hanging pomegranates. Even so, while waiting his turn to open the cooler adjacent to the milk display, he spots the same woman. As she has clearly dressed and made up herself to be on display, he peruses the goods.

He appreciates her round bottom, her narrow waist, and her ample (but not oversized!) bosom. Somewhere between her tits and her face, she senses the weight of a predator’s gaze upon her. She turns her head to seek him out.

The Alpha, however, doesn’t flinch. His eyes meet hers as she turns. He may, if he is so inclined, favor her with a half-smile of acknowledgement… or he may maintain a neutral expression, depending on his mood. What is important is that he will hold her gaze until she drops her own.

She is faced with a direct, uncompromising stare, which admits shamelessly and confidently: “Yes, I was sexually objectifying you. What of it?” The most dominant of women will hold that eye contact for a second or two; the rest will fold immediately, often with a blush, and hurry on their way.

Should the Alpha be so inclined, he might then approach her directly and engage her in small talk to begin his game. Maybe he needs another plate to spin, or perhaps his purchases are just for his own more-or-less healthy dessert after a fine meal of grass-fed steak. This Alpha, however, definitely has plans and is well-appointed for tableware. He completes his business and leaves.

In this situation, the woman gains:

1. Affirmation that she is sexually desireable.
2. Nothing else.

The Alpha gains:

1. Affirmation that he is dominant in all such interactions
2. The opportunity to begin working his game, should he so chose
3. Confidence in future encounters with women in neutral territory.

What does the Alpha lose? Not a damn thing.

For a beta who wishes to begin his journey towards Alpha status, this is the easiest way to change his behavior from sycophantic to self-assured. The opportunity to practice occurs frequently, there are no potential social repercussions, it builds confidence, and costs nothing.

That’s not to say it’s easy. Men have been trained in this society to defer to women, to avoid at all costs taking actions they might perceive as “threatening” or “creepy”, and to at all times allow them to dictate the terms of any interaction in everyday spaces. It can be hard to subsume the impulse to break eye contact first, to give her the dominant position, to allow her to reject you wordlessly and effortlessly like the worm you’ve been told you are. But hold fast. Practice. The first time you succeed will produce a rush of the kind you’ve likely never before experienced.

Conclusion: Practice the Alpha’s gaze at every opportunity, and drop the Coward’s Glace like an an ant-covered ham salad sandwich. You’ll thank yourself soon enough.