17/03/2026
The manosphere. Toxic masculinity. And what we’re not talking about enough.
I grew up in Plymouth in the 80’s & 90’s, a big naval city.
The kind of place where being a man meant one thing:
Be tough.
Drink hard.
Fight harder.
That was the standard.
Men didn’t cry, that was weak.
Men didn’t talk about feelings, that was weak.
Men didn’t cook, clean, or raise their kids, that was “women’s work.”
Men earned the money.
Women ran the home.
That was the script. And it wasn’t just Plymouth, it was everywhere.
The problem is… that script never really disappeared.
It just changed shape.
Now it lives online.
Different faces, same message. Louder. More extreme. More accessible than ever.
And people act shocked that the “manosphere” exists as if it’s something new.
It’s not new.
It’s inherited.
But let’s be honest about what we’re really looking at.
When I see these online figures, I don’t see strength.
I see low self-worth.
I see insecurity dressed up as confidence.
I see men building platforms by being outrageous because outrage gets attention.
I see weak men pretending to be strong.
I see emotionally unstable, vulnerable men leading other vulnerable men.
And I see exactly how it pulls young boys in.
Because imagine this:
A 13-year-old boy.
No self-esteem.
No positive male role model.
No emotionally available adult.
No structure. No discipline. No purpose.
Just hours of gaming, scrolling, and searching for identity.
Who do you think gets to him first?
That’s the reality.
These boys aren’t stupid.
They’re searching.
And if we don’t guide them… someone else will.
We need to show young men what strength actually looks like.
Because it’s not silence.
It’s not aggression.
And it’s definitely not dominance.
It’s self-awareness.
It’s accountability.
It’s respect.
It’s presence.
If we don’t step up and lead them…
The algorithm will.
Take note
