The Manosphere Isn’t Exactly “Pro-Men” As You Think It Is

I just finished watching Louis Theroux’s Inside the Manosphere documentary, and it left me with a strong reaction. A lot of people treat the manosphere as some unified, pro-male movement fighting for men’s rights and well-being. I don’t think that’s accurate. In fact, I believe (and I know some men’s rights activists would quietly agree) that large parts of the manosphere are not truly “pro-men” at all.

What I saw, and what I’ve noticed for years, is a space that often profits from the insecurities, loneliness, and anger of young men rather than genuinely helping them. Influencers like Andrew Tate or Myron Gaines (Fresh & Fit) have built entire brands around selling courses, subscriptions, and lifestyles to men who feel lost, rejected, or powerless. The message is usually some version of: “You’re failing because society/women/the system is against you—here’s the expensive solution.” That isn’t empowerment. It’s monetizing vulnerability.

There’s a difference between addressing real male issues (higher suicide rates, workplace deaths, family court bias, declining education outcomes for boys, etc.) and turning those problems into a product. When the primary goal becomes selling “alpha” coaching, dating systems, or endless content that keeps men angry and dependent on the next video or course, it stops being advocacy and starts looking like exploitation.

This is especially clear in their extreme views on modern dating and relationships. In much of the commercial manosphere, if a man isn’t actively pursuing multiple women at once, or if he has little to no sexual experience, he is quickly labeled a “beta male,” a “failure,” or somehow defective. Having standards, wanting a monogamous relationship, or simply not being highly sexually active is treated as weakness rather than a personal choice. That kind of rigid, judgmental mindset doesn’t support men—it pressures them into a narrow and often unrealistic performance of masculinity.

Even some people inside men’s rights circles have pointed this out. Genuine concern for boys and men doesn’t require turning every struggle into a hustle or promoting rigid, performative versions of masculinity that most ordinary men can’t (or shouldn’t have to) live up to. The commercial manosphere often does exactly that.

I’m not saying every person who talks about men’s issues is a grifter. There are people doing serious, non-monetized work on male suicide, education gaps, and fatherhood. But the loudest, most visible part of the manosphere—the part that dominates YouTube, podcasts, and social media—frequently prioritizes profit and engagement over actual long-term improvement in men’s lives.

Watching the Theroux documentary made that clearer to me. The manosphere isn’t automatically “pro-men” just because it criticizes feminism or talks about male pain. In many cases, it’s simply another industry that has found a profitable audience: young men who feel left behind.