Guiding boys away from the manosphere’s dark edges

One of the world’s best-known influencers known for being a misogynist, Andrew Tate. — AFP

FIRST, let’s get the caveats out of the way.

The American “manosphere” – that nebulous world of terminally online, mostly young, male influencers, YouTubers, pranksters and UFC fighters, now making headlines for its role in Donald Trump’s US presidential election win – isn’t some inherently dangerous force.

To see this crowd as purely a rage-fuelled rabbit hole of “toxic masculinity” and anti-feminist sentiment is to buy into a certain ultra-liberal piety. That’s too easy, a bit too reductive.

Take a closer look at the personalities Trump aligned himself with in the final weeks of his campaign.

These are figures in a male-centric monoculture with millions of followers. They might sit on the fringes of mainstream culture in the United States – and even more so here in Asia – but not all of them are peddlers of extremism.

They include personalities like pro-wrestler Logan Paul, comedians Theo Von and Andrew Schulz, Canadian pranksters the Nelk Boys, and Adin Ross, the controversial live-streaming gamer who was banned from the live-streaming platform Twitch for his homophobic and racist comments. Then there’s Joe Rogan, the world’s top podcaster, whose guests swing from the outright loony, like conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, to the widely respected, like astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson.

Sure, there’s a thread of masculinity running through it, but really, these engagements were mostly jokey, banter-filled conversations – what you’d hear in any “brodom” of boys and young men chatting idly.

There were some more serious moments, too, like when Trump shared with Theo Von, who has been sober for 10 years, how he himself stayed a teetotaller after losing a brother to alcoholism.

So, no, Trump’s play here wasn’t purely about flexing his machismo (though, let’s be honest, this is Trump – there’s always going to be a bit of that). Instead, ever the opportunist, he saw an easy, direct line to millions of young male voters.

The manosphere wasn’t going to ask him hard questions. Trump could engage, entertain, and make himself resonate. No need for the Democrats’ immense get-out-the-vote machine; Trump’s chosen influencers – the top names in global podcasting – handled that for him.

In an election where both Trump and his opponent Kamala Harris saw the gender divide as pivotal, Harris anchored her candidacy on defence of women’s rights while Trump turned to the manosphere to capture as many male supporters as possible, especially low-propensity Gen Z and millennial male voters across racial groups. And, in retrospect, it worked.

In our Asian, and specifically Singapore, context, we’ve had our own versions of these spaces. Maybe not as sprawling, amorphous, or political, but they were there.

A generation or two ago, Singaporean boys’ furtive conversations in the back rows of classrooms and school parade squares revolved around MTV rap battles, favourite DJs on 987FM, or, for the football-obsessed like this columnist, the weekly debates sparked by ESPN Asia’s Football Focus pundits (who else remembers the late, great Shebby Singh?).

Politicians back then weren’t flocking to these platforms, but they were very much our version of the manosphere.

So, let’s be clear: these spaces aren’t inherently bad, and there’s no need to adopt a knee-jerk view, steeped in the West’s culture wars that instinctively paints them as harmful.

Dark edges

But by the same token, it’s crucial to recognise the genuinely dangerous edges of the manosphere – the parts that openly, as a matter of intent, promote misogyny, anti-feminism, and other hateful ideas. In the English-speaking world, at the very centre of that problem, sits Andrew Tate.

In a league of his own in terms of influence and risk, Tate – a British-American former kickboxer – has built a cult following online among boys by peddling an ultra-masculine, materialistic lifestyle centred on fast cars, expensive cigars, and a worldview that blatantly denigrates women.

If you haven’t heard of him, that’s probably for the best – but his influence is hard to ignore. His reach stretches across the US, the UK, Australia and even here in Singapore, where an open internet, receptiveness to Western pop culture, and English-speaking youth make us especially susceptible.

For the uninitiated, various descriptions capture Tate’s essence. New York Times commentator David French calls him a “pornographer” in all but name.

Richard V. Reeves, author of Of Boys and Men: Why the Modern Male Is Struggling, Why It Matters, And What to Do about It, adds simply: “Few people embody misogyny quite as well as Tate.”

Now, he and his brother Tristan face charges in Romania for human trafficking, rape, and running a criminal ring to exploit women – accusations they deny.

Trump’s team, perhaps wisely, gave a wide berth to the Tates during the election.

But the question now, for the US and for those concerned about the darker sides of the manosphere, is what Trump’s return to the White House might mean.

Let’s be clear: any distancing from these menacing figures was purely tactical. There’s ample evidence to brand Trump a misogynist who, on some level, aligns with the ethos these personalities promote.

Tate, out on bail and vocally pro-Trump and pro-Elon Musk, quickly posted on X after the election outcome that he’s “moving back to America” – though it’s unclear if Romanian authorities would ever greenlight that.

In the days since, he’s unleashed a torrent of misogynistic taunts, proclaiming that “the men are back in charge”.

Experts studying the influence of Tate and others like him are taking notice, urging schools and institutions to recognise the resurgent clout of these more nefarious elements of the manosphere. Dr Stephanie Wescott and Professor Steven Roberts, researchers at Monash University’s School of Education, Culture, and Society, recently highlighted this in a Nov 8 commentary.

They noted that some Australian women have already faced rhetoric echoing US white nationalist Nick Fuentes, who tweeted after Trump’s win: “Your body, my choice. Forever” – a goading twist on pro-choice slogans, hinting at male control and a rollback of abortion rights.

While Trump distanced himself from Fuentes during the election campaign, he in 2022 hosted the 26-year-old and rapper Ye (formerly Kanye West) at Mar-a-Lago, drawing bipartisan outrage. Fuentes, who has questioned the Holocaust and de facto leads a white nationalist group called the Groypers – linked to at least seven Capitol rioters – has also been platformed by the foul-mouthed gamer Ross, one of the influencers Trump engaged before the vote.

In Singapore, overt expressions such as those by Fuentes are less visible, perhaps due to our strict laws, but troubling narratives still circulate in online spaces.

Writing before the US election, Yasmine Wong, an associate research fellow at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies, observed the spread of Tate-like misogyny in Singaporean Reddit communities as well as the Hardwarezone and Sammyboy forums.

Beyond Tate, Wong flagged other influential figures: Jordan Peterson, an academic-turned-YouTube philosopher with a preoccupation for the perceived threat to masculinity; Myron Gaines, a fitness podcaster who authored Why Women Deserve Less; and Walter Weekes, a Tate wannabe who’s also a content creator.

As Wong notes, while there may not be reported cases of misogyny directly leading to far-right extremism in Singapore, the narrative circulating on online platforms of “traditional masculinity being under threat” in the Republic “evokes concerning parallels with the narratives that rally far-right spaces”.

The antidote

So how do we inoculate boys against the darker pull of the manosphere and figures like Tate?

Scholars studying this issue suggest a starting point: digital media literacy to guard against disinformation, along with civic and moral education in schools. In many societies, these programmes are already in place.

Dr Wescott, the Monash University researcher, noted in an e-mail response to questions that Australian schools are making strides. A team she’s part of is gathering data on how the manosphere’s influence reaches young men, aiming to equip secondary school teachers with tools to address the issue head-on.

In the UK, the Labour Party has announced plans to develop young male mentors in schools and teach students to critically assess material from figures like Tate.

Dr Wescott also stresses that social media platforms need to step up, stating that their current responses to extremist content are far from adequate.

What they could do, she said, “is take seriously the threats to safety that women experience online, commit to fulfilling their policies on user safety, and take a firm stance against hate-inciting content, including misogyny”.

These initiatives represent a solid foundation.

But perhaps equally crucial, young men need role models who show up, who set an example in real time – men who lead by treating women and everyone around them with respect. If boys are going to see “alpha” behaviour worth emulating, let it be kindness, empathy, and integrity, not the contempt and bravado of the Tates of the world.

Here in Singapore, and across Asia, boys need such visible figures they can look up to in sports, the arts, or any arena they follow.

This isn’t about vilifying the spaces boys are drawn to – the digital platforms where they interact, find entertainment, and camaraderie. Treating these as inherently bad only fuels the culture wars.

What’s needed is steady, measured vigilance from parents, teachers, and society as a whole. Boys don’t need knee-jerk stigmatisation of their online spaces. They need a clear-eyed approach to recognise when someone like Tate is trying to lure them in – and strong role models who show them a better way. — The Straits Times/ANN