“It’s just the same story as a doctor once told me,” observed the elder. “He was a man getting on in years, and undoubtedly clever. He spoke as frankly as you, though in jest, in bitter jest. ‘I love humanity,’ he said, ‘but I wonder at myself. The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular. In my dreams,’ he said, ‘I have often come to making enthusiastic schemes for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually have faced crucifixion if it had been suddenly necessary; and yet I am incapable of living in the same room with any one for two days together, as I know by experience. As soon as any one is near me, his personality disturbs my self-complacency and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner; another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I detest men individually the more ardent becomes my love for humanity.'”
The Brothers Karamazov
This explains the oft-observed tendency of conservatives and classicists to be politically cynical and interpersonally agreeable, and vice versa for liberals and egalitarians. You don’t want to be roommates with someone who is optimistic about “humanity”, understood as a giant abstraction standing in for a bunch of individuals, anymore than a woman wants to be with a guy who worships the divine feminine. That’s because men who actually love IRL women, spend time with them, and know how to make them happy know that women are made of warts just like the rest of us.