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I. A Move Away
The 2024 election revealed a shift in American politics: more and more young men are moving toward the Republican Party. While pundits continue to dissect where the Democratic Party went wrong, many are asking why men, particularly young men, made this change. Simply concluding that Democrats failed to appeal to young men overlooks the deeper implications of this shift and fails to acknowledge a broader pattern: lonely, lost, and disaffected men are finding themselves drawn in by the political Right.
Since 2016, the Democratic Party has seen its support among young men decline significantly from 51% to 39% in 2023. In 2024, 55% of male voters aligned themselves with Trump, with 49% of Gen Z men voting for him and 47% voting for Harris. The demographic breakdown within the male voting bloc reveals even more changes: in key battleground states, 60% of white men and 55% of Latino men supported Trump, while only 21% of Black men voted for him. While the male vote isn’t unified in their support for Trump, their total shift away from the left is notable. There is debate about why this shift is happening. Some attribute it to a backlash against feminism and #MeToo, making Trump’s macho and often misogynistic messaging appealing. Others, like Richard Reeves, believe these patterns reflect deeper structural issues: the social isolation, economic instability, and emotional struggles facing young men today. While these can be seen as separate, they work hand in hand. As many men feel they are losing their position and identity in society, they are searching for purpose and a way to restore their power, and the Republican party is promising just that.
The growing sense of isolation and lack of purpose among young men has created an opportunity that right-wing movements are eagerly filling. These movements, everything from social media influencers to more extreme anti-feminist online spaces in the “manosphere,” offer young men a narrative that women’s rights and progressive policies are to blame for their social, economic, and emotional struggles and a return to traditional masculinity, by any means necessary, as the solution. These spaces offer increasingly younger men the community they long for in a way that isn’t just reshaping online culture but creating a growing ideological divide that is fundamentally reshaping American politics as we know it.
II. Men Seeking Purpose
It happens that the stage sets collapse. Rising, street-car, four hours in the office or the factory, meal, street-car, four hours of work, meal, sleep, and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday according to the same rhythm — this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the “why” arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement.…Mere “anxiety,” as Heidegger says, is at the source of everything.” (Albert Camus, Myth of Sisyphus, 1942.)
We all search for purpose, and in the pursuit of purpose, the world often answers us with a deafening silence. Social structures like gender roles help provide a clear direction and purpose, but in doing so, they also set up unrealistic expectations of ourselves and who we are expected to be. The rigid concepts of masculinity that we have reinforced through generations are ultimately denying us our freedom to change. Traditional masculinity has ingrained the idea that to ‘be a man,’ we must avoid feminine things, be ultra-successful, constantly achieve, show no signs of weakness, and be adventurous (David and Brannon, 1976, R.F Levant, 2007). This concept rejects any ambiguity or variation when talking about what gender and or masculinity means. The traditional concepts of masculinity are simple and clear, but their rigidity ultimately denies us the freedom to be entirely ourselves.
Masculinity, as a gender role, is a cultural construct shaped by societal beliefs and expectations. In Western societies, masculinity emphasizes dominance, physical strength, and the avoidance of femininity, which are usually considered “hegemonic” because they contribute to maintaining men’s favorable position in the gender hierarchy. (Connell 1995; Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005; Messerschmidt, 2019; Iacoviello, et al, 2022). For centuries, the expectation for men was that they were to be gainfully employed, provide for their families, and, as a result, earn the respect of their communities, granting them purpose. While traditional masculinity remains dominant worldwide, men’s roles are evolving, incorporating traits seen by some as traditionally feminine. (Valsecchi et al, 2023) For men who have been taught to be ‘traditionally masculine,’ it can be difficult to accept the diminishing hegemony of masculinity and the loss of power that comes from these traditional and patriarchal power structures in our society. (David and Brannon, 1976, R.F Levant, 2007). As a result, many men are seeking a return to traditional masculinity. Even as a young man growing up in a liberal environment in San Francisco, I myself have struggled to break free from the deeply ingrained ideals of masculinity that men have forged and reinforced for generations, individually and systemically.
For all its outdated flaws, the traditional masculine ideal provides many men with a clear sense of direction and purpose. However, this rigid identity means men often hold themselves to standards that may not fit them or our changing culture, resulting in psychological tension and identity crisis. When these traditional masculine scripts fail to deliver the promised sense of fulfillment and belonging, many men find themselves uncertain. This uncertainty, combined with rapid social changes and evolving gender expectations, creates a vacuum where men feel lost, resulting in anxiety and disorientation that can manifest as anger, depression, and a desperate clinging to outdated ideals simply because they offer certainty in an increasingly complex social landscape. When confronted with life’s fundamental questions, it’s natural to grasp for easy answers and clear direction. In this existential questioning, it makes sense why young men are turning to right-wing ideologies that promise clear answers, renewed certainty, and an escape from the existential anxiety that philosophers like Heidegger and Camus talk about.
Importantly, this shift has coincided with a well-documented loneliness and hopelessness epidemic among young men. Sixty-five percent of younger men (18–23) say that “no one knows me well” (Barker, G. et al., 2023), 40% show depressive symptoms (Barker, G. et al., 2023), and 44% of men reported having thoughts of suicide in the prior two weeks (Barker, G. et al., 2023). In 2022, the suicide rate among men is 4 times higher than that of women, representing 79% of suicides and amounting to roughly 100 men dying by suicide every day. Tragically, men make up 97% of mass public shooters, most of whom are white and between the ages of 15–25. Men also make up 93% of inmates between the ages of 25 and 44. Their despair and lack of direction aren’t just theoretical; they are actively manifesting in their actions that affect society.
Today, only 39% of men who have completed high school are enrolled in college, down from 47% in 2011, and women of all races are outpacing men in college completion. In 1995, young men and women were equally likely to hold a bachelor’s degree (25% each). Today, 47% of U.S. women ages 25 to 34 have a bachelor’s degree, compared with 37% of men. Men are falling behind in the metrics that traditional masculinity has historically defined as their measure of worth.
This loss of economic security, poor educational outcomes, and loss of social interaction among men, along with the increasing and overdue empowerment of women, combine to make Trump’s macho and often misogynistic messaging appealing. Politically, it’s not surprising that the party that traditionally has represented social change embraced equality, the Left, which makes many young men feel like the unwelcome, unwanted outgroup. Meanwhile, the Right, wanting to return to hegemonic structures, welcomes them with open arms.
III. Trump and the Manosphere
The manosphere is a network of toxic online communities that promote a variety of misogynistic and anti-feminist rhetoric and a male supremacist worldview. They broadly agree that women have acquired too many rights and freedoms at the expense of a loss of power and rights for men, “promot[ing] deep resentment and hatred against women and girls.” These online spaces capitalize on algorithms that profit off of sensationalized rhetoric, captivating their audiences and driving their viewers to share the message, creating a feedback loop perpetuating extreme rhetoric and sensationalism (Barker, G. et al., 2023). While some sites are underground, it is now widely known that algorithms on platforms like Facebook, TikTok, and X benefit from extremist rhetoric and views. On platforms that rely heavily on what is interacted with the most, the most emotionally evocative content will be pushed to everyone’s feed, benefiting influencers within the manosphere and spreading ideological rhetoric that appeals to young men, tricking them into circulating even more misogynistic content.
The manosphere preys on young men by appealing to their desire to affirm their masculinity and resolve the anxiety of a changing world. In the manosphere, young men who may otherwise feel lost or criticized for expressing anything from traditionally masculine traits to flat-out misogynistic behaviors not only feel welcome but feel empowered. After all, they feel they are the “real victims of a world that is unfairly in favor of women.” (Sugiura, L., 2021)
Blue-haired Libs
Since the beginning, the manosphere has sought to capitalize on the sentiment that the Democratic party has abandoned them. The stereotype of a “blue-haired liberal” exists as a caricature of a “typical” liberal (usually a woman)upset, finger-wagging critic of men. Many young men genuinely feel that this is how women perceive them. The blue-haired liberal trope serves as a reminder to young men that liberals are out to get them. Online, men are “reminded” that they are being attacked by the “woke mob” that wants to tell them how they should act and feel. This narrative creates fertile ground for what scholar Debbie Ging (2017) calls “aggrieved manhood” — a hybrid form of masculinity. Aggrieved manhood describes the belief that masculinity is under siege and that “real men” (mainly straight, white, Christian men) are being unfairly attacked and should fight back.
Influencers use the concept of aggrieved manhood to cultivate hatred towards women and the Democratic Party, encouraging men to turn toward the manosphere to reaffirm their masculinity. Rather than engaging with these changes constructively, the “aggrieved male” adopts a defensive posture, viewing criticism of toxic masculinity or male privilege as personal attacks against all men. This mindset is particularly potent because it transforms any progressive pushback against harmful male behaviors into evidence of a larger anti-male agenda. After all, the core of aggrieved manhood rhetoric is an ‘us vs. them’ mentality, which labels all criticism as an attack on the ‘us’ and naturally labels women and liberals as the ‘them,’ the enemy.
Influencers like Myron Gaines of the Fresh and Fit Podcast and the author of Why Women Deserve Less, explicitly target young men’s sense of lost purpose. In his book, Gaines weaponizes male insecurity, arguing that “the perfect political and economic storm has formed that has liberated women from men, making it so women no longer need men to survive. And what every man alive today in the first world is witnessing is how truly little interest women have in men.” Gaines is a clear example of the depression, anxiety, and yearning that the manosphere benefits from. Not only is his rhetoric distraught and misogynistic, but it reinforces the ideas that are making men feel unwanted in the first place. His anger resonates with young men, who increasingly find themselves drawn to content creators who “stand up for men.”
The rhetoric of the aggrieved man, reinforced by the anger fostered by the manosphere, resembles the nationalistic rhetoric of many autocracies. The manosphere portrays this struggle as a fight between good and evil, a fight between men who are protecting their rights and freedoms and liberals who want to take their rights away and punish men. This kind of rhetoric forms deep divides and hatred towards women and the democratic party.
At Home in the Manosphere
The manosphere operates on both explicit and implicit levels. The explicit level features overt messaging that promotes regressive masculinity and right-wing politics. Take YouTuber and boxer Jake Paul as an example: while his content wasn’t always political, he recently made his stance clear in videos like “Who I’m supporting for President…and Why You Should Too,” where he blames Democrats for current issues, asking his audience that since the democrats have been in power for 14 out of the last 16 years, “Who’s to blame? ” Paul represents just one of many influencers and podcasters who deliver political messages to predominantly young audiences.
While explicit messages come through direct political statements, implicit messaging works more subtly. Thumbnails featuring political figures, displays of flashy cars, boxing matches, and ostentatious wealth all reinforce traditional notions of masculine success. Young viewers, seeing their favorite creators celebrate these symbols, naturally internalize them as the ideals of masculinity. If all a young male sees are their favorite creators flaunting their wealth, they are naturally going to associate those things with masculinity because their creators act as role models and inspiration.
Oftentimes, however, the implicit and explicit collide. The presence of Donald Trump is an example of this implicit messaging. Not only is he in the manosphere with these influencers, but he is actively advocating for a return to traditional and toxic masculinity. Time and time again, we have seen extremely misogynistic rhetoric coming from the right. Trump, convicted of sexual assault, has openly bragged about grabbing women by the “p***y,” and has suggested that he is above the law. More recently, Trump bragged that he would protect women “whether the women like it or not,” harkening back to a time when men were seen as the head of the family, and women had limited autonomy. The same goes for his vice presidential nominee, JD Vance, who has floated the revocation of no-fault divorce, suggesting that people, even in violent marriages, should continue to stay in said relationships and referring deprecatingly to unmarried women as “childless cat ladies.” These political influences extend beyond the manosphere itself — the positive associations young men develop with certain politicians through their favorite content creators carry over into their broader worldview and political identity.
Campaigning in the Manosphere
For the first time in a presidential campaign, the podcast world has played a central role. In 2024, Donald Trump appeared on “Bussin’ with the Boys,” “Andrew Schulz’s Flagrant with Akash Singh,” “This Past Weekend w/ Theo Von,” and The Ben Shapiro Show, to name a few popular podcasts. Perhaps most important was his 3-hour appearance on The Joe Rogan Experience, which got 43 million views, 2 million likes, and around 518,000 comments in only 8 days with an audience overwhelmingly male (80%), 51% between the ages of 18 to 31 and 40% saying they would probably vote for Trump.” Vice President-Elect JD Vance appeared on the same podcast 6 days later. These appearances not only reached a traditionally unmotivated voting bloc, but they carried a message: we care about you, and we see you. Regardless of the fact that Trump made numerous false claims on his podcast, his willingness to speak to this group of voters uncensored energized their support. All you have to do is look at the video’s comment section to see numerous comments about how his podcast ‘true journalism.’ to see his audience’s appreciation.
Platforms like Joe Rogan’s podcast and other right-wing media figures normalize and politicize male grievance, creating a pipeline from personal frustration to political ideology. The underlying message is consistent: the solution to men’s feelings of purposelessness lies in returning to traditional gender roles where men held unquestioned authority — a narrative that aligns perfectly with certain political movements’ broader messaging about “making America great again.” By appearing on these platforms, Trump and other Right-wing politicians tacitly endorse their messaging while benefiting from their ability to package conservative politics as a solution to young men’s alienation. The underlying message is clear: a return to traditional gender roles — under Trump’s leadership — will ‘make men great again’ by giving them back the power that women, justice, and equality stripped away. This creates a dangerous feedback loop where legitimate male insecurities are channeled into anti-feminist and Right-wing ideologies.
After the 2024 election, the influence of the manosphere was solidified. In Trump’s own acceptance speech, Dana White, the UFC founder, came on stage to thank the “Nelk boys, Adin Ross, Theo Von, bussin’ with the boys, and the almighty Joe Rogan.” The Republican party isn’t just appealing to these internet influencers and their followers but thanking them for helping the success of the 2024 election. There is no longer a divide between the offline and the online. Mainstream American politics and the manosphere are colliding, and this shows no signs of changing.
What’s next:
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. (Albert Camus, Myth of Sysiphus, 1942)
I was in the 7th grade when I first discovered the manosphere. I was just beginning to form my own political ideas and came across this video: BEN SHAPIRO OWNS LIBTARD COLLEGE STUDENT. I was interested in politics yet had no concrete idea of what I believed, so I watched. Even though I disagreed with every point he made, he sounded smart and made sense, especially to someone who hadn’t really been exposed to a breadth of opinions yet. Fast-forward to 2020, the height of the election. My best friend and I would go at it, debating again and again, with him representing the MAGA right and me with the left. After a while, however, there was a shift in our rhetoric. We had moved away from seeking truth through discourse and towards trying to beat the other through facts, insults, and sensational rhetoric that we had consumed on the internet. Every debate had become like that very video; To him, I was just a libtard, and he was Ben Shapiro. The thing that struck me, though, even as an eighth grader, was that he so vehemently promoted ideas that were hateful. During the rise of the BLM protests, he stood strongly against the movement, and I just couldn’t understand why he opposed racial equality. Our friendship had faded after the election, and we went our separate ways. Even then, I knew he was lonely and–instead of reaching out to friends, had found a home in the manosphere.
To a young man who feels lost, it can be easy to accept patriarchal hegemony because it not only lifts them up but also makes the world a whole lot clearer and unambiguous. However, as we are seeing right now, that patriarchal system is only a bandaid to a larger question of purpose. If we would like to heal the wound, we must cultivate acceptance in groups centered around love and acceptance rather than criticism and denial. We may not be able to solve the question of purpose, but building communities around commonly held values that address honest concerns and reject hate can make it possible for us to enjoy the struggle that is the search for purpose together.
