Myth of the Male Feminist

Why does the cool feminist bro always disappoint us? 

BY NITHYA VENKAT

On October 11th, headlines broke announcing that popular music artist Rex Orange County had been charged with 6 counts of sexual assault. The news was heart wrenching. To many, Rex Orange County was the soft boy making songs like Pluto Projector and helped give us Tyler the Creator’s Flower Boy– in what world is a man like this capable of sexual assault? And this isn’t the first time we’ve been shocked by allegations like these. Men we’ve trusted and have positive public images like Ansel Elgort, Brad Pitt, and Ned Fulmer have been exposed for cheating, abuse, and assault. We’ve watched time and time again men’s wokeness unravel and reveal their true character. But why is this pattern so common– and why haven’t we woken up to it? Why does the male feminist remain such an elusive myth? 

First off, it’s not to say men can’t or shouldn’t be feminists. Rather, we must investigate why men who are the loudest about it end up being the worst of them all. The answers lie in social media. In a time where putting “BLM” in your Instagram bio and reposting “My Body, My Choice” graphics is enough be considered ‘woke’ or aware, it’s not hard to brand oneself as a feminist. Social media has turned identity into messaging, the creation of profiles synonymous with being a public figure. What you post, who you repost, and what labels you use to politically identify yourself become who you are. In some ways, this is good! Visibility is often important and activism and education through social media allows for wide dissemination of important messages. But on the flip side, messages can get watered down and activism can become inauthentic. It’s easy to see how a man can just repost and say the right things and earn the label of ‘feminist’ without actually being a feminist. And to those who live their lives online or have public facing careers, spreading the right buzzwords and infographics is crucial to their careers and hiding the reality of their personal lives.

Further, social media and its specific brand of activism fosters damaging parasocial relationships between creator and audience. We feel as if we know them, trust them, and that they would never do something as heinous as sexual assault, abuse, or cheating. This is another reason we are so shocked everytime stories like Rex Orange County’s come out. But the obvious reality is that we don’t know them. We don’t know who they are and what they’re capable of. Just because they allow us glimpses of their lives at attractive and vulnerable moments means nothing. It’s a continuation of this smart and tactical branding. This idea is exacerbated when it comes to male celebrities specifically. Men look to foster an image of the sensitive feminist guy who understands you in ways your own boyfriends and situationships never will. This parasocial relationship doesn’t just obscure their actions, it defends them. We saw this in the wake of Amber Heard’s defamation trial. It became a trend on TikTok to use her testimony of how she was assaulted by Depp and make mocking videos to it. Regardless of your opinions on the trial, mocking abuse is wrong– and the misogyny of mocking Heard over Depp is obvious. We are devastated that we can no longer listen to Rex’s music, rather than being devastated for his victims. And we struggle to comprehend that someone like Hasan Minhaj could be anything but perfect when he gave us comedy hits like “Homecoming King” and “Patriot Act.” When we watch how audiences feel for everyone but the victims, the relationship becomes less parasocial and more parasitic. 

In order to stop the cycle of the disappointing male feminist, we need to encourage authentic activism. Like I mentioned before, men can be feminists and the issue doesn’t lie in simply being a man. Rather, we need to look into the systems in place that people with power abuse to prey on their audiences and victims. Movements must be centered in conversation and empathy rather than posting and virtue signaling. There is a world to be found in human connection–not digital distancing. 

Wake Mag