From Eye Color to Gender: How Jane Elliott's Classroom Experiment Mirrors the Modern Treatment of Masculinity

From Eye Color to Gender: How Jane Elliott's Classroom Experiment Mirrors the Modern Treatment of Masculinity

In 1968, Jane Elliott, a third-grade teacher in Riceville, Iowa, conducted a bold and controversial classroom experiment that would come to be recognized as one of the most powerful demonstrations of how discrimination and prejudice take root. In the wake of Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination, Elliott sought to help her white students understand the arbitrary cruelty of racism. Her tool? Eye color. On one day, she told her class that brown-eyed children were smarter, cleaner, and better than their blue-eyed peers. Brown-eyed children received privileges, while blue-eyed children were demeaned and denied recess. The next day, she reversed the roles. What she observed was chilling: within minutes, children began to conform to their assigned roles. The "superior" group acted arrogant and condescending, while the "inferior" group became withdrawn, anxious, and performed worse academically. The exercise was a vivid demonstration of how easily social hierarchies can be constructed—and how quickly they can damage a child’s self-perception.

More than fifty years later, Elliott’s insights are more relevant than ever. Although we no longer divide children by eye color in classrooms, we have developed subtler—and often more insidious—ways of creating social hierarchies. One such modern construct is the term "toxic masculinity." Originally coined within academic and therapeutic contexts to describe specific harmful behaviors associated with some aspects of traditional male gender roles, the phrase has since entered popular culture as a blunt instrument. Instead of being used with nuance to critique destructive behaviors, "toxic masculinity" is often employed as a sweeping condemnation of masculinity itself. In doing so, it functions much like Elliott’s classroom exercise, designating boys and men as morally inferior based on an intrinsic characteristic.

In Elliott’s experiment, children quickly learned to internalize their assigned value. Similarly, in today's culture, boys and men are increasingly exposed to messaging—through schools, media, and even therapeutic models—that suggests something inherently wrong or dangerous about being male. They are told they are prone to violence, emotionally stunted, and responsible for a host of social ills. Like the blue-eyed children, many boys internalize this message, leading to shame, self-doubt, and disengagement. They may feel they must apologize simply for being who they are.

Just as Elliott's students began to perform worse academically when placed in the "inferior" group, boys today are underperforming in schools. Boys now lag behind girls in reading and writing skills, are more likely to be diagnosed with behavioral disorders, and are more likely to drop out of high school and avoid college. Could part of this trend be linked to the erosion of positive male identity? When a boy’s natural traits—physical energy, competitiveness, assertiveness—are consistently labeled as problematic, he may begin to disengage from institutions that seem to reject him.

The effects aren’t limited to boys. As Elliott observed, the "superior" group in her class quickly became smug and less empathetic. Girls growing up in a culture that equates masculinity with toxicity may unconsciously develop a sense of superiority or distrust toward boys and men. They may be less inclined to empathize with male struggles or more likely to assume bad intent in male behavior. This moral ranking damages the ability of boys and girls to form healthy, respectful relationships.

The consequences extend into adulthood. For men, the persistent framing of masculinity as a problem can result in emotional suppression not because masculinity prohibits feeling, but because society penalizes men both for expressing emotion and for not doing so in the approved manner. A man who shows grief through silence and action rather than verbal sharing is often seen as "emotionally unavailable." Conversely, a man who expresses anger or frustration may be labeled as aggressive or toxic. This double bind can leave men emotionally stranded, unable to find safe ways to process and communicate their feelings.

Women, too, are affected. The widespread narrative of toxic masculinity fosters fear and suspicion, undermining trust between the sexes. It can shape how women approach relationships, parenting, and even professional environments. Some may feel the need to "correct" men or view them as a threat to be managed. Others may feel disillusioned or hopeless about finding male partners who meet ever-shifting emotional standards. In either case, the relational divide grows deeper.

Jane Elliott's experiment demonstrated how power dynamics based on arbitrary traits can warp perceptions, relationships, and individual potential. She showed how quickly children could learn to see others—and themselves—as lesser or greater, good or bad, based on a label. Today, we risk doing the same by using a term like "toxic masculinity" without nuance or precision. When boys hear the phrase, many don't interpret it as "some forms of male behavior are harmful"—they hear "something is wrong with you." When girls hear it, they may internalize a belief that maleness is suspect.

It would be unthinkable today to conduct an experiment like Elliott's in a public school. But that doesn't mean we're not running our own social experiments, with equally high emotional stakes. We are shaping a generation of boys and girls with the messages we send—explicit and implicit—about gender, value, and morality. If Elliott taught us anything, it’s that these messages matter deeply, and that the harm caused by labeling can manifest quickly and painfully.

The solution is not to ignore harmful behaviors associated with male socialization, just as Elliott's goal was not to deny the reality of racism. But we must be precise in our language and compassionate in our teaching. We must separate masculinity from harm and focus instead on the specific actions and attitudes that cause damage—regardless of gender. Otherwise, we risk constructing a new hierarchy of virtue that punishes half the population simply for being born male.

In a world that claims to value inclusion, compassion, and equality, we must remember that these ideals apply to everyone. Boys and men are not exceptions. The path forward lies not in moral condemnation but in understanding, dialogue, and a shared commitment to human dignity—blue eyes, brown eyes, male or female.