Netflix’s hit drama, Adolescence, has reignited debates about the impact of the manosphere and violence against women.

Many of the responses focus on trying to change the behaviour of boys and young men: encouraging them to find better role models, or to learn from the media about the harms of toxic influencers.

But the problem is a wider one. The manosphere is a range of interconnected online misogynistic communities.

My ongoing PhD research is analysing masculinity, class and nationalism and exploring how these narratives appear in the everyday lives of men. I argue that responding to the harm that stems from these online communities requires an understanding of the manosphere as a product of a global, neoliberal, capitalist system built on inequality and division.

Neoliberalism can be described as “capitalism on steroids”. It’s a hyper-individualistic and market-driven ideology that fosters a culture of competition.

Neoliberalism encourages us to see ourselves as isolated individuals, responsible for our own success or failure. Among many other things research has shown that one of its outcomes is a profound loneliness. This is something that the manosphere exploits.

Role models are important, but the disconnect felt by so many today won’t be fixed by better role models within the same system. For example, black feminist thought, which recognises the way racism and sexism intersect and can offer extensive structural critiques, shows us that efforts to end violence against women must take place alongside work to change wider systems. So to start preventing violence we must first deal with root causes, such as poverty and inequality.

Measuring people by ‘value’

The manosphere picks up on messages around failing. Alongside hate-filled and misogynistic content, shame-based narratives from the manosphere suggest that boys and men are losers, weak and lazy if they aren’t “succeeding”. This is deeply damaging to all who find themselves drawn to such messages.

The concept of self-worth regularly appears in the manosphere, but it’s largely in relation to wealth or productivity: hustle harder, rise and grind, make money. These ideas don’t just exist in these online spaces. Similar language – self-investment, output, productivity, personal growth, efficiency – has become part of our everyday way of talking about ourselves and others.

The wellness industry promises us we can “glow up”. Self-help books and hustle culture encourage us to be better and produce more. Lifestyle influencers demonstrate how to turn our everyday existence into a marketable product.

This way of thinking turns people into products. It’s not about who you are – it’s about what you produce. Today’s far-right (of which the manosphere is part) capitalises on these ideas and the obsession with economic value.

There are versions of this aimed at women and girls, such as “cleanfluencers”, who reframe housework not only as a consumable personal brand but also as glamorous and fun.

But the hustle culture messaging central to the manosphere is particularly distinct in its hypermasculine messaging centred on “self-improvement” which advocates working harder and longer while being ruthless and dominant.

A focus on domination and individual success encourages young boys and men to see their self-worth tied up in that and that alone. This message extends beyond the manosphere and is part of the very system with which we all exist.

Resisting the system

Those captivated by manosphere narratives are victims as well as perpetrators. This doesn’t excuse their actions, or mean they shouldn’t be held accountable. How we care for each other within a capitalist society isn’t easy or straightforward.

Too often, though, discussion focuses solely on punitive responses, such as advocating for longer prison sentences. If we only focus on punishment, we miss the bigger picture. We need to find more inclusive ways of talking about, and responding to, harm – while rethinking what it means to truly care for each other.

Abolitionist movements strive to create systems which improve people’s health and safety and build a future without prisons. They seek to build responses to harm that are founded on education and community accountability – where communities take responsibility for identifying issues they need to address.

Abolitionist approaches advocate for expanding support networks and investing in resources deemed appropriate by survivors. Proposals like this work towards preventing violence. Their community focus means they address the isolating effects of neoliberalism at the same time.

We also can’t convince ourselves that once the likes of Andrew Tate and others involved in the manosphere disappear, women and girls will no longer suffer such extreme levels of misogyny and violence at the hands of boys and men.

This is because we exist within a system built on inequality and violence. It’s a system which rewards competition over cooperation, greed over care and one which is harmful to us all.

Sophie Lively, PhD Candidate in Human Geography, Newcastle University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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