I Could Be Wrong: Breast enlargement direct result of male demand

Bigger is better. It always has been and apparently, despite feminism and the politically correct push for men to look at a woman's "personality," it always will be.

The Washington Post recently reported that the number of women choosing to have breast-augmentation surgery is increasing rapidly. Last year, 220,000 American women chose to do so. That's a new record. On top of that, the industry projects an almost 10 percent increase this year.

As men, shouldn't we complain about this phenomenon? Aren't we the new generation, unburdened of our fathers' and grandfathers' backward-thinking ideals that kept women either in the kitchen or in the pages of Playboy?

We claim to be new, enlightened men, yet consume issues of Maxim like packs of ravenous wolves. What is Maxim, really, but a Playboy you can smuggle past your girlfriend?

If we are not still objectifying women like our fathers and their fathers did, then why the jump in women seeking to be more attractive to men? Let's be honest, if it weren't for us, women wouldn't want bigger breasts. They're heavy and they get in the way. They're a nuisance.

Despite this, more women are not only opting for implants, but they are going for even bigger implants. The Washington Post reports that in the '80s the average implant was 250 cubic centimeters. Today the average implant is a whopping 350 cubic centimeters. That's an increase of 40 percent.

Not my fault you say; they're making the choice, they're dropping the coin.

Think about the last time you were at a bar or party at your drunken, mouth-breathing worst. Remember that girl in the little top with the big . . . sure you do. And just how long did you stare?

Now at face value, this is a victimless crime. Girl gets attention, guy gets eyeful. But what about the somewhat-less-endowed girl standing next to her? You have just reaffirmed her belief that all men are pigs and that she who has the breasts has the power.

You may think I'm off my rocker here. But it's awful that we as men would make some women feel so bad about themselves that they would spend thousands of dollars and go under the knife just to escape it.

To those of you men who don't care, or think I'm being a wussy-boy or think I'm trying to make up for staring at someone in front of my girlfriend: at least you can sleep safely knowing that by which you are measured doesn't stick out of your chest for all to see, but is tucked away inconspicuously behind a couple layers of size-veiling fabric.