We are living in what many experts are calling a “male loneliness epidemic.” Surveys show that men, particularly younger men, report higher levels of isolation and lower rates of close friendships than ever before. While this crisis deserves attention, the solutions being offered by alpha male influencers and online communities dubbed manospheres are not just unhelpful, they are actively harmful.
In recent years, a disturbing subculture has gained traction across social platforms: the “manosphere.” What began as loosely organized forums of self-described “men’s rights activists” has evolved into a highly visible network of influencers, podcasters and online personalities who promote rigid, regressive notions of masculinity. These figures, from Andrew Tate to Joe Rogan, preach a worldview in which empathy is weakness, women are adversaries and the only currency of male value is dominance.
At the heart of this rhetoric is the revival of the “alpha male” archetype: a man who is unemotional, physically superior and inherently entitled to power. Podcasts like Fresh & Fit and Whatever market themselves as spaces for self-improvement but are often little more than echo chambers for misogynistic posturing.
Women are brought on not as participants in conversation, but as foils to be humiliated, interrupted and dismissed. The hosts tout traditional gender roles and the idea that men should strive to be emotionless providers — an image that aligns closely with far-right, conservative ideals of male authority.
This obsession with the “alpha” identity reinforces the belief that vulnerability and care are inherently feminine and, by extension, undesirable in men. That belief has devastating consequences. Instead of encouraging men to develop emotional literacy or build meaningful connections, the manosphere offers them a script of isolation: be alone, trust no one, dominate or be dominated. And all of this is packaged not as insecurity, but as empowerment.
A central tenet of this ideology is the claim that men, not women, are the true victims of gender injustice. This narrative reframes social progress as a zero-sum game, in which every gain for women represents a loss for men.
They tout obedience to the point of encouraging women to accept domestic violence. Feminist efforts to draw attention to rape culture are recast as attacks on male dignity.
High-profile figures in the manosphere frequently, and falsely, claim that false accusations of assault are more common than actual incidents, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. The goal is not to protect men, but to delegitimize the experiences of women and rewrite the cultural script around consent.
Language is crucial in understanding how this worldview takes shape. Women are routinely described in transactional terms, valued — or devalued — based on superficial markers such as their appearance or sexual history. The term “high-value woman” is often used to mean submissive, young and sexually inexperienced.
In these communities, women are not people. They are assets to be measured, ranked and, ultimately, controlled. This kind of dehumanization is not only sexist but incredibly dangerous.
The consequences are not limited to online spaces. The messaging has seeped into broader political discourse, reinforced by public figures whose influence lends legitimacy to these ideas. Andrew Tate, one of the most well-known hypermasculine online creators, was arrested on charges related to human trafficking and sexual exploitation but continues to enjoy a platform. His brand of ultra-violent masculinity has only gained popularity among young men, despite his legal controversies.
Joe Rogan, with a massive Spotify following, routinely hosts guests who push anti-feminist rhetoric under the guise of “free speech.” President Donald Trump, whose public persona is inseparable from a legacy of misogyny, including sexual remarks made to minors and lewd comments about his own daughter, remains a touchstone for those who equate cruelty with strength.
Underlying this cultural shift is a broader resentment toward the redistribution of power. Many of these men are angry, not because women are unqualified, but because qualified women are finally being recognized. There is a growing hostility toward the idea that women might earn more, lead teams or refuse to settle. This is not about a meritocracy. It is about entitlement.
We also see this mindset reflected in the way fatherhood and caregiving are discussed. In manosphere circles, being a present father or taking on domestic responsibilities is viewed as emasculating. Men are discouraged from participating in childcare or showing affection for their children, lest they appear “weak.” But real strength is not in detachment. It is in presence, responsibility and care, traits that have been redefined as feminine only because they require emotional labor.
Rather than unlearning their negative habits around emotions and communication, these men are demonizing women. The irony is that feminists have been advocating for decades for men to be allowed to express emotion, build deeper relationships and participate equally in the private sphere.
The very tools that could alleviate male loneliness — therapy, community or emotional openness — are being rejected by the manosphere in favor of hyper-independence and performative dominance. The alpha male mindset is not solving the problem, but actively worsening it.
The manosphere sells a fantasy of male superiority that collapses the moment it is interrogated. It tells young men that they are owed status, sex and success, not earned through kindness, intelligence or partnership, but through aggression and control.
This ideology will not build healthier relationships. It will not solve loneliness. It will not bring fulfillment. What it will do is isolate men further, alienate them from those who care about them and normalize misogyny under the guise of “self-improvement.”
If we are serious about addressing the crisis in male mental health, we must reject these hollow definitions of masculinity. We need to model and celebrate alternative forms of male identity — ones rooted in empathy, humility and emotional courage. The answer to male loneliness lies in connection, not isolation.