Moments before the main event of UFC 207 was to start, commentator Joe Rogan made a declaration:

“I’m nervous.”

Less than a minute later, Ronda Rousey was defeated by Amanda Nunes, knocked so senseless that she initially wasn’t aware that the fight had been stopped. She could be seen staggering in the direction of Nunes (who by now was at the other end of the octagon celebrating), attempting to reestablish her fighting stance, before stopping cold and looking to the ref for answers.

It was a stunning defeat in sporting terms, given the heights to which Rousey had been elevated over the last three years or so. She had been compared to fighting greats such as Ali and Tyson, and was even cut out to be a figure that transcended sports. All of these platitudes were based on her invincibility in the octagon, a foundation which was forever cracked by the left foot of Holly Holm at UFC 193.

That defeat and Rousey’s subsequent disappearance from the public for 12 months set the stage for a grand comeback – the once great phenom returning to battle to prove that what had happened before was a fluke. Unfortunately for Rousey, her status as some sort of indomitable demigod was buried again, this time in 48 seconds of fury.

Something else took a mortal blow along with Rousey last week – the false canard of equalism, in particular the feminist variety. The acceleration of the Rousey hype train had carried as one of its passengers the prevailing cultural myth that men and women are the same.

Rousey’s pre-Holm dominance in the hyper-masculine arena of MMA (albeit against other women) was a God-send to the feminist camp. All of a sudden they had a real life data point to back the growing trend of movies depicting dainty 120-pound actresses successfully beating up several men twice their size at once, or to back the idea that packing the military with women is a great idea.

Writing ahead of the Rousey-Holm bout, Stephanie Convery wrote a piece in Australian media on Rousey in which she closed by saying that Rousey’s mere existence was an argument for feminism:

…in some ways her physicality is an argument in itself. She is living, breathing, fighting evidence against the still-prevailing idea of women’s inherent physical inferiority.

Rousey’s apparent invincibility, paired with a cultural delusion promoting the equivalence of male and female physicality, led many to believe that Rousey could fight, and beat male fighters. Rousey did not shy away from these claims, first claiming in 2013 that she could beat the male MMA heavyweight champion, despite her weighing over 100 pounds less and standing 7 inches shorter. Joe Rogan famously declared with a straight face that she could beat half of the men at her weight class, bantamweight, a claim which Rousey later topped by saying she could beat all of them. She then went on to intimate that she could defeat Floyd Mayweather, amid the war of words the two had in the summer of 2015.

These declarations were not only not immediately laughed off, but taken seriously by other fight critics and fans alike. Reality reared its head at UFC 207. In 48 seconds, the indomitable, bad assed, man-defeating woman was brutally beaten…by another woman. It is interesting to note that Nunes, who apparently has the fiercest punch in the women’s game, was unable to knock Rousey to the ground with all that ferocity, despite deploying it at least 15-20 times directly to Rousey’s head.

Rousey’s poor form, both in presenting her head to Nunes as though it was a punching bag, and ducking the post-fight interviews (as she had done post-Holm) stood in stark contrast to another firebrand MMA fighter.

As RVF member NapoleonDynamighty outlined, the difference in the reaction of Conor McGregor and Rousey to defeat was night and day. Back in March, McGregor suffered defeat at the hands of Nick Diaz, after talking heaps of trash beforehand. Within minutes, he held his hand up, acknowledged that he was defeated by the better fighter, and vowed to learn from his mistakes.

A few minutes later, at the media press conference, he had even begun to lay out some of the specific tactical errors he had made both during the fight and in preparation, which he was determined to fix.

Just three months later, he avenged his loss to Diaz, and went on to greater heights, becoming the first fighter to hold multiple championships at different weight classes simultaneously. Despite his over the top bravado and borderline buffoonery, McGegor ultimately displayed several masculine virtues in his defeat, and the quest to regain his place at the top.

In contrast, when defeated by Holm, Rousey quite literally hid from the public, only surfacing to tearfully describe to Ellen Degeneres how she contemplated suicide after the loss. There was no introspection, no humility, just self-pity.

Rousey went back into hibernation, refusing to engage in the standard programme of promotion of the fight with Nunes, ostensibly out of a fear of discussing the Holm bout.

This is particularly significant given that McGregor wanted to do the same thing, eschew promotion of his rematch with Diaz, which was originally slated to be in July for UFC 200, ostensibly because it would disrupt his training regimen.

McGregor was denied this luxury, which led to him not being on the card for UFC 200. The fight eventually did happen, of course, but the point is that Rousey was afforded such special treatment by the UFC. Rousey continued to avoid the press and the public until she couldn’t any longer, and had to step in the octagon.

What Rousey ultimately showed in her fight with Nunes was that she learned absolutely nothing from the Holm bout. She was then beaten by a fighter with a vastly superior boxing style to hers. In the 13 months she had to prepare for this next fight, she apparently did not even develop any semblance of a defensive technique to mitigate her boxing deficiency, let alone anything she could use to hurt an opponent with. She looked devoid of strategy and entirely underprepared. When defeated, she again left the octagon with haste, again avoiding the post-fight interviews.

Rousey’s behavior is similar to that of Hillary Clinton, another woman who leaned on her gender and was touted by the press as the greatest thing since sliced bread simply for being a woman who talked a big game around the big boys. Like Rousey, when Clinton lost, she reverted to her natural female self and hid from her supporters after conceding defeat on election night, waiting until the next morning to finally address the country.

These reactions were the complete opposite of McGregor. The contrast between the two is the perfect antidote for the equalist poison served up by the current culture. In this regard, one of Rousey’s most notable moments was when she declared herself to be the opposite of a ‘do nothing bitch.’

The comment came in response to criticism of her unfeminine physique. In talking about ‘do nothing’ women, she was invoking the feminist idea that a woman isn’t making the most of herself unless she is pursuing some sort of careerist ambition, as a man does.

As stated before, it is no secret as to why Rousey became a feminist hero, as she was a woman who took the feminist ‘behave like a man’ mantra to an extreme, in becoming a prize fighter. As revolting as I find female punch sports personally, Rousey’s cultural position affords us the ability to test the feminist push to eschew feminine strength in favor of female imitation of masculine strengths in a raw setting.

And Rousey has failed on all fronts. Despite her bold proclamations that she could beat a heavyweight champion male twice her size, let alone several smaller men, when actually faced with the prospect of fighting a ‘half-man’ in Fallon Fox, she began to shake in fear. Then, she lost to two women, and both times did not take her loss like a man, so to speak, as discussed above.

The only thing she probably did accomplish was to further embolden young women to act out physically in public. Seemingly on a weekly basis we are subject to a surveillance or cell phone recording of some woman accosting a man in some manner in an afterhours situation, as though she were a man herself.

When reality invariably sets in, and the man responds, the result is usually catastrophic for the girl involved. Concussions, broken bones, comas, and worse have been the end outcomes of these situations.

I have nothing against Rousey personally, and I wish her the best in her endeavors. However, the catapulting of her from a good fighter to an all-male conquering warrior princess was built on an abject lie which pervades society. This lie mandated that women like Rousey be elevated so that girls will know that ‘they can do anything.’

Rousey herself has benefitted handsomely from this elevation; it has made her a multimillionaire. Reality, as I’ve indicated here, isn’t so good to those who would follow her lead, verbatim, in their daily lives. In this context, it is good that she suffered these resounding defeats.

Rousey’s physique isn’t a validation of feminist cant. She is living, breathing, fighting evidence that women are, on average, physically inferior to men. That doesn’t make women defective. It merely makes them different humans, suited to different ends.