The manosphere did not emerge in a vacuum. Here’s the real reason so many young men are choosing flawed role models, and how to change that, according to Simon Kuestenmacher.
Source: Netflix
Louis Theroux’s latest Netflix documentary Inside the Manosphere has many viewers asking why so many young men are drawn to online influencers who mix self-help, grievance and misogyny.
Why are the Andrew Tates of this world even a phenomenon?
A common reflex is to point at the loudest personalities in the manosphere and conclude that something has gone badly wrong with an entire generation of men to follow these knuckleheads.
But that explanation is too easy. The manosphere didn’t emerge in a vacuum.
It’s tempting to focus on these vulgar streamers and their outrageous behaviour and treat them as proof that young men have somehow lost their moral compass and blindly fell for the grifters. But doing so ignores the conditions that produced this culture in the first place.
From a demographic perspective, the rise of the manosphere overlaps with something else I’ve written about in this column before – the growing cohort of young men who are disengaged from work, education and training.
Economists call them NEETs (Not in Employment, Education, or Training). In many Western countries, the share of men in their late teens and 20s who fall into this category has quietly increased.
When a society produces large numbers of young men who struggle to find stable work, form relationships and feel socially respected, it should not surprise us that alternative communities emerge online.
Meaning and acquiring a sense of direction was always important for young people (even though we focus only on men in this week’s column, this is certainly true for women too).
Young men today face structural challenges that previous generations didn’t have – life wasn’t easier in the past but new difficulties have emerged.
The labour market stopped rewarding hard physical labour and pay is now linked closely to education. Housing has become less affordable. University degrees often come with significant debt but no guarantee of secure employment.
Being a strong worker in a physical job isn’t a guaranteed way to success anymore, neither is an academic degree. Also, the traditional male role as the breadwinner died, as a single income doesn’t suffice to support a household anymore.
Men and women now share the burden of earning money. At the same time, men and women must also arrange household responsibilities like cleaning, childcare, shopping etc anew.
Many couples have adjusted to these new realities and rebalanced family responsibilities, but to do so means letting go of old playbooks that – while being repressive in one way – provided security and identity in another way.
For many young men, the traditional milestones of adulthood feel very distant – a secure job, your own home, a devoted partner, a loving family.
When old pathways become unnavigable, the search for alternative identities begins.
Manosphere influencers have been quick to sense the growing hunger among young men for direction, status and offer a clear (if ultimately flawed) script for adulthood.
‘They offer a simplistic formula – build a powerful physique, make lots of money, dominate women – that’s your role as a man, nothing is given to you, therefore you must take.
It’s a seductive message precisely because it turns the complexity of modern life into a handful of visible milestones (like levels in a video game) that promise status, respect and a sense of control in a world that feels stacked against you.
Boys who dream of becoming streamers or influencers don’t strike me as more narcissistic than older generations; they seem to be searching for a path in life.
Fame, in this context, is often seen as a route to financial independence in an economy where traditional paths appear blocked.
Philosopher Kathleen Stock, in a sharply-written review of the Louis Theroux documentary, has described participants as performers chasing notoriety.
The framing of the manosphere as simply a grotesque spectacle of moronic influences with daddy issues risks mistaking the symptoms for the cause.
The real story is not the clowns in the circus. It’s much more interesting to figure out why so many young men are drawn to the circus in the first place.
Social realms that were dominated by men (through the deliberate exclusion of women) are now shared equally: Women enter the workforce as equals and even dominate university enrolments.
This is welcome social progress but didn’t provide all men with a new script that allows them to tell a positive story about themselves to themselves.
None of this excuses the misogyny that circulates in the manosphere. But if we only mock the manosphere influencers (who are more than deserving of mockery) and ignore the underlying forces drawing young men into these communities, we aren’t providing them with an attractive alternative playbook.
In his recent book Moral Ambition, historian Rutger Bregman argues that many of the world’s most talented young people are aiming far too low.
Instead of chasing status, wealth, and whatever else the manosphere influencers try to sell, he argues young people should devote their abilities to solving humanity’s biggest problems.
It is a powerful idea and perhaps an antidote to the nihilism that clouds the manosphere.
Young men in particular benefit from having something truly meaningful to fight for.
A life built around pursuing noble goals. Dedicating your career to improve institutions, strengthen communities, tackle climate change or expanding human opportunity in some other way offers a far deeper sense of purpose than chasing online notoriety, hustle for more money, or getting laid more often.
The challenge for societies, the challenge to us, is not simply to criticise the manosphere – we must offer better missions.
Demographics and sociology taught me that cultural movements result from structural changes in the economy, in education, in society, or in family patterns.
Bregman’s book on Moral Ambition also reminds us that deep social change is usually driven by very small groups. Large numbers of people are willing to join a cause and become active participants, but only if they’re asked.
If we want fewer young men looking for meaning in angry online echo chambers, the solution will not be found in better documentaries or snarkier columns.
It will come from offering young men ambitions worthy of their energy.
We must encourage our young men to commit to worthy causes larger than themselves.
As older generations we must not block opportunities for them but open doors wherever we can.
Take on mentoring responsibilities, make a few introductions, give young people career opportunities that feel a bit too big for them – you will be surprised how capable and dedicated young men are when given the chance.
If you have a worthy cause, ask young people to participate and hand over real responsibility – if we don’t offer meaningful pathways, the manosphere influencers will.
Simon Kuestenmacher is a co-founder of The Demographics Group. His columns, media commentary and public speaking focus on current socio-demographic trends and how these impact Australia. His podcast, Demographics Decoded, explores the world through the demographic lens. Follow Simon on Twitter (X), Facebook, or LinkedIn.
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