'It's pretty toxic… but just a little, I want to be like that': What young men think of manosphere content

'It's pretty toxic… but just a little, I want to be like that': What young men think of manosphere content Swati Mestri Scientific Editor Andrew Zinin Chief Editor Masculinity content promises young men self-optimization and success, but often delivers health harms, risk-taking, unattainable standards, gender stereotypes and misogyny. The latter is the strongest predictor of violent extremism. Policymakers, advocates, teachers and parents are all calling for change. But young men are often absent from these conversations and calls for solutions. Our new research brings their perspectives into the story. We asked 142 young men ages 16 to 25 in Australia, the United Kingdom and the United States what they think and how they make sense of masculinity content on social media. Their verdict: "Some of it's fucked, some of it's useful." These young men described being pulled in multiple directions and valuing practical self-help advice. At the same time, they critiqued "toxic" messages about masculinity and health behaviors that harm men, women and marginalized groups. A blueprint for self-improvement? Like most wellness content online, masculinity content manufactures insecurities and sells solutions through self-optimization. Finance, fitness and dating advice all promise to make young men desirable, confident and successful. Some felt it genuinely helped. Kieran, a 24-year-old from the U.K., said, "I am looking for the lessons and takeaways that can have a positive impact if I implement them in my life. And I ignore the rest. Overall, I like it. It has helped with my self-confidence and has helped me with discipline and exercise." Masculinity content offered support that young men didn't get elsewhere. For some, it was a roadmap to the kind of success they equated with self-worth: financial security, a partner, a successful career and a fit physique. But many simultaneously saw a darker side. They called out unsustainable lifestyles, influencers exploiting young men's insecurities and superficial content that could not provide young men with real, long-term well-being. Andy, a 22-year-old Australian man, said, "It's pretty toxic but at the same time I can't help but want the confidence that their methods seem to provide. Like I don't want to be a part of it because it's messed up, but just a little I want to be like that so I feel respected or at least deserving of it." Navigating the manosphere Even though they were not asked about it specifically, the majority of young men referenced the manosphere and manfluencers, such as self-described misogynist Andrew Tate. Some endorsed restrictive and oppressive models of masculinity and traditional gender roles in relationships and families, equating these with the type of man they wanted to become. But many more disliked the promotion of misogyny, violence, risk-taking and health harms they saw online. A 19-year-old named Cam told us, "It's fairly 50/50. A good portion of the content is focused on masculinity without scrutinizing women. Whereas I feel that the louder minority latch on to overly masculine role models who promote the idea that in order to be a successful male, you have to belittle women." Some felt manfluencers hijacked young men's fears of not measuring up and their desire to better themselves, turning them toward the degradation of women and girls. Harley, 19, from the U.S., said, "... [the content] tends to misguide young men down incel/alt-right thinking through the guise of life coaching/motivation." Participants handled these tensions through selective engagement, navigating which messages to act on and which to reject. They saw susceptibility to radicalization and online harm as being shaped by what young people bring to platforms as much as by the content itself. That included age, background, mental health struggles, romantic rejection and loneliness. But selective engagement had its limits. Participants readily identified vulnerability in others, but none identified it in themselves. Riley, a 21-year-old Australian, said, "If one's motivation for going to the gym purely stems from their hate for their ex [...] then although they may get ripped, their internal issues will never get fixed. It preys on young boys who have gotten their heart broken for the first time and turns them into violent, women-hating people." Seeing hate isn't the same as stepping away or stopping it. Many young men still tolerated misogyny and harmful health messages if it meant access to the self-improvement advice they liked and wanted. To stop the influence of misogyny online, this complacency must be challenged and the platforms on which young men access masculinity content held to account. From discomfort to action In this discomfort is an opportunity. While extreme and fringe manosphere communities require specialized intervention, our findings also point to a large "movable middle" that is already critical of the masculinity content they see. Many young men want self-improvement advice, purpose and community, without the misogyny, health risk-taking and damaging stereotypes of what a man should be. Our study highlights opportunities for boys and men to help combat manosphere content rather than passively consume it. If passed, Australia's digital duty of care legislation would allow young men to opt out of algorithms that monetize hate and drive harms to women, girls, gender-diverse people and men themselves. Whether young men actually do so remains to be seen, but it presents an opportunity for change. Our research shows some young men already have concerns about the masculinity content they see online. With the right support and messaging that sells the shared benefits of gender equality, now is the time for us to ensure they can use their discernment to do something about it. Doing so would create a better digital world for themselves and everyone around them. Provided by The Conversation