The ‘manosphere’ public conversation about boys and masculinity claims young men feel alienated because they see nothing positive in depictions of masculinity. This narrative insists boys are turning to figures like Andrew Tate because schools and the media shame them for being male. It’s a deeply flawed explanation weaponised by men’s rights activists and reactionary movements seeking to radicalise boys and men.
Unfortunately, this narrative is being echoed by some men’s mental health advocates. They argue addressing men’s violence – against themselves, women and/or LGBTIQA+ people – requires avoiding ‘alarmist language’, focusing instead on how boys feel. In this framing, feminism is cast as harmful to boys’ wellbeing, driving their isolation – claims used to undermine evidence-based prevention and gender equality work.
Understanding boys’ alienation matters. But our interrogation of where these feelings come from finds a manufactured outrage.
Instructed victimhood
The idea that masculinity is under siege is central to men’s rights activism, filtering into mainstream discourse. In men’s mental health spaces, the inability to ‘speak positively about masculinity’ is allegedly harming boys.
This framing is misleading. Across academic, policy, and community settings, there are countless conversations about healthy, ethical, caring masculinities. Program-level initiatives across Australia, like The Men’s Project and the Positive Masculinity Foundation, are working with men to highlight the strengths and advantages of a masculine identity, while challenging rigid and harmful traditional norms. But this work is often ignored because acknowledging it undermines the outrage narrative.
A significant portion of boys’ alienation isn’t organic. It’s engineered. Young men are told they are under attack, gender equity threatens their rightful place in the world, and their entitlement to dominance, emotional detachment, or success is being taken from them. Manosphere influencers and media commentators push this message relentlessly. They cherry-pick stories of anti-male sentiment, ignore efforts to support men, and teach boys their discomfort isn’t something to reflect on, but something to avenge.
This is instructed victimhood. It recasts progress toward gender justice as persecution. And it works.
From discomfort to resentment
Some men’s health campaigns have begun repeating manosphere talking points, particularly the idea that terms like ‘toxic masculinity’ shame boys. But ‘toxic masculinity’ was never about claiming all men are toxic—it names specific behaviours and norms that harm men and others. Misrepresenting this concept as anti-male distorts the issue and steers boys away from recognising how rigid gender norms hurt them too.
When boys are taught to interpret social change as a personal attack, they’re less likely to reflect on power, inequality, or the limits of masculinity. Instead, they’re encouraged to direct their frustration at feminism. It’s a tactic of reactionary politics: take real pain and point it at the wrong target. It mirrors coercive dynamics in abusive relationships, where abusers cast themselves as victims to deflect responsibility and gain control.
Misrepresenting gender equity work
Another tactic is to misrepresent the work being done in schools and communities to engage boys constructively and ethically, and imply that women and girls provoke violence by speaking out about inequality—rather than naming violence as a tool used to silence them.
Well-designed gender equity and primary prevention programs don’t shame boys. Such workhelps boys explore new ways of being without pretending masculinity is inherently bad or inherently good. These programs take boys seriously—not as victims of feminism, but as agents of ethical change.
Mythologising the uniqueness of boys’ disconnection
The idea that boys are uniquely lost or disconnected lacks evidence. People of all genders report similar levels of loneliness. If loneliness alone caused radicalisation, we’d see many more young women drawn to extremist movements.
The ‘absent fathers’ argument also doesn’t hold up. Decades of research shows non-traditional families, including those led by single mothers, do not inherently lead to worse outcomes for children. Where challenges exist, they’re typically linked to poverty, not the gender of the caregiver.
What matters most for children’s wellbeing are supportive relationships, quality education, housing, and economic security. Claiming boys are doomed without dads reduces complex social issues to tired gender scripts. Countless men—fathers, teachers, coaches, youth leaders—model caring, ethical masculinities. Boys benefit from role models of all genders but the grievance narrative ignores this, because the evidence doesn’t feed its outrage.
Reclaiming the narrative
To push back against these framings, we can do three things.
We must expose the bad faith claims that masculinity is only ever talked about negatively. A rich ecosystem explores masculinity in affirming, inclusive ways. These are rarely acknowledged by those claiming boys are being silenced.
We must call out the fabricated nature of boys’ alienation. While some boys feel uneasy in a changing gender landscape, many are being taught to interpret discomfort as persecution. This is not care—it’s manipulation.
We need to move beyond defensiveness in conversations with boys. The goal isn’t to reassure them that masculinity is fine. It’s to help them see that masculinity can evolve in ways that serve them, and people of all genders, through emotionally rich, connected, ethical lives because of gender equality, not in spite of it.
The idea that boys are turning to the manosphere because masculinity is under attack is more than misleading—it’s a strategic, ideological narrative. The outrage is manufactured. The victimhood is instructed. And it’s being used to undermine gender justice.
Authors:
Professor Steven Roberts (he/him) is a sociologist of youth/masculinities and Professor of Education and Social Justice. He serves as the Head of the School of Education, Culture, and Society at Monash University.
Jackson Fairchild (they/them) is one of Australia’s leading voices in gendered violence prevention, with a focus on men and masculinities and preventing violence against LGBTIQA+ communities.
Dr Stephanie Wescott (she/her) is a lecturer in the School of Education, Culture and Society at Monash University. Her research explores manosphere-driven gendered violence in Australian classrooms.
Dr Verity Trott (she/her) is Senior Lecturer in Digital Media Research at Monash University. Her research focuses on how social, cultural, and political values are negotiated in digital spaces.
Professor Helen Keleher (she/her) is a leader in gender equity and prevention. She was the lead researcher and writer for Change the Story, Australia’s National Framework for the Prevention of Violence Against Women.