Piping hot take: neither humans, nor men are trash. Women are also not trash. In fact, there is no demographic that is trash. Even the profoundly misguided, even the evil are not trash.
Either we are a special creation of some divinity (in which case the worth of humans is in the hands of said divinity, reportedly such entities find us troubled, but promising) or we are evolved. If we are evolved we are the sole purveyors of meaning within the range of our sensors. As far as we know this right here is it. On one side, 93 billion light years of mostly empty, mostly irradiated, mostly bitterly cold space speckled with fire, on the other hand: seven billion apes with delusions of grandeur. And that’s (as far as we know) it.
Simply put: we don’t get to quit. Chance or providence has granted us a miracle and we are stuck with it.
Have we done poorly? By which standard? Of gods? We make poor gods, true. But for self-assembling chemical soup I think we’re pretty awesome.
As for the infliction of suffering, please. We are the scions of four billion years of mindless gnawing, of suffering-of-necessity, of devouring, being devoured, of parasitic wasps and things that only really reproduce via rape. Can we be better? Absolutely. Are we the worst? Not even close. We don’t even win in the ‘ecological damage’ niche. Cyanobacteria win there, probably.
The point is precisely that we can be much, much, much better. That we can improve the world and build the next best thing to paradise right here on Earth. And we can fail at this task and disappoint some of us bitterly precisely because we are not trash.