In my 24 years, I had never met a man who told me to my face I was inferior to him because I was a woman—until last weekend. It happened in a Capitol Hill bar on Friday night. I was introduced to a friend of a friend. He asked where I worked, and his eyebrows flew up at the mere mention of The Heritage Foundation. As he tried to tame his look of alarm, he explained, “I used to work for the DNC.” (Democratic National Committee) Well, there you have it. Eyebrows were raised, acronyms used, ideological lines drawn. There...