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Exploring the antidotes to toxic masculinity

A space where boys and men can be loving, vulnerable and strong is needed

Everyone needs a positive role model. Picture: 123RF/UFABIZPHOTO
Everyone needs a positive role model. Picture: 123RF/UFABIZPHOTO

What does it mean to be a man in 2025? If you believe the headlines, it’s a crisis of “toxic masculinity” or the demonisation of all men, depending on who you ask.

Toxic masculinity is not new, and rating countries as hotbeds of it is an exercise in futility. It is a universal phenomenon that transcends geographical boundaries. Its dynamics and expressions differ widely — and wildly — shaped by local history, politics, culture and social mores.

But what does “toxic masculinity” actually mean? And why the fierce debate worldwide?

Toxic masculinity is a pop-psychology term for harmful cultural and societal norms and behaviours that equate manliness with dominance, emotional repression, aggression, violence and subjugation of others, especially women and girls. US psychology professor Shepherd Bliss (his real name) is widely credited with coining the term in the 1980s. He saw it as part of the “mythopoetic” men’s movement. It aimed to distinguish harmful from healthy male behaviours.

As a catch-all term, toxic masculinity is simplistic, a one-dimensional view of biological complexity. It has spawned online hashtags, such as #allmenaretrash, that pathologise and antagonise men and young boys who might otherwise be open to positive change.

Stellenbosch University psychology professor Kopano Ratele notes the usefulness and limitations of the term in his book, Why Men Hurt Women and Other Reflections on Love, Violence and Masculinity.

His central argument is that many men suffer from unrecognised "hunger for love”. It begins in boyhood and may underlie some forms of male violence. He examines how structural violence, economic inequality and government failures contribute to harmful male behaviours. Ratele advocates for a reimagining of masculinity altogether. He promotes the possibility of more “loving”, healthier forms of masculinity.

Craig Wilkinson, CEO of Father A Nation (FAN), agrees. He founded FAN in 2013, in response to SA’s high rates of gender-based violence (GBV), crime and fatherlessness.

The country’s rape rate is one of the world’s worst. Its femicide rate is five times higher than the global average, with a woman murdered every three hours. Surveys show that 60% of children grow up without present, engaged fathers.

Wilkinson prefers to talk of “toxic humanity” and through FAN to champion masculinity that is “positive, real and true”.

“Masculinity is not inherently toxic and men don’t have a monopoly on toxic behaviours,” he says. “Femininity can also be toxic. It tends to manifest through emotional manipulation, verbal attacks, social exclusion and controlling behaviour, using words or social dynamics rather than physical force and violence.”

True masculinity is “a priceless gift to humanity”, Wilkinson says. “We need more of it, not less.”

FAN runs programmes across SA to restore men as “nation-builders, fathers, and role models”. A flagship FAN course is developing of a “six-pack of masculine virtues”: love, service, protection, provision, activism against abuse, and emotional literacy. The goal, says Wilkinson, is to help boys and men to become “warriors and lovers, strong, but also gentle, caring, and vulnerable”.

If toxic masculinity has a global hall of shame, its inductees are a motley, headline-grabbing crew. Many are politicians and celebrities. Their elevated status enables abuse of power and influence and normalisation of toxic behaviours with impunity.

One name springs to mind: US president and former reality TV star Donald Trump. His masculinity is performative, hegemonic and prioritises dominance, strength and subjugation of women and minorities. His presidency is marked by toxic rhetoric and policies.

He routinely insults his enemies (they are legion). He dismisses empathy as weakness, mocks mask-wearing as “unmanly”, and boasts about his sexual conquests, including grabbing women by their genitals. He never apologises or admit to faults. Trump is a living template for weaponising toxic masculinity.

Russian strongman Vladimir Putin’s toxic masculinity is equally performative. He carefully cultivates an image of hypermasculinity. With staged photos of himself doing martial arts, hunting and riding a horse shirtless, he projects himself as an alpha male on the world stage.

Putin’s rhetoric includes misogynistic and homophobic undertones. He belittles opponents and promotes a culture of patriarchal domination that reinforces harmful masculine norms. It reflects in his approach to leadership and international relations, including in context of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine that critics have called a “macho war of invasion and violence”.

Former UK prime minister Boris Johnson has called Putin a “perfect example of toxic masculinity”.

If there’s any leader of the toxic masculinity pack, it is British-American “influencer” and self-proclaimed misogynist Andrew Tate. At age 38, Tate is the Teflon “baby” of this pack.

His online empire peddles a noxious brand of masculinity that equates dominance, wealth and contempt for women with success. Despite facing criminal charges in the UK and Romania, including rape, bodily harm, human trafficking and managing prostitution for profit, Tate’s influence on young men and boys is growing.

Tate is the most visible figure of the “manosphere” — a loose, global network of websites, forums, social media accounts, online communities and subcultures. It promotes misogynistic, antifeminist, hyper-masculine ideologies. One of the manosphere’s most toxic, radicalised corners is the “incels” communities. 

Incel was a benign, gender-neutral term coined in the 1990s for people struggling with loneliness and unable to find romantic partners. It has morphed into an online male subculture defined by rage, misogyny and a sense of sexual entitlement. Incels routinely blame women and “society” for their loneliness, with fatal consequences at times.

Manosphere and incel influencers deliberately craft content that targets adolescent boys at an especially vulnerable time when their identities are still forming. They are already facing pressure from societal expectations, social media and confusing demands of modern masculinity. Social media algorithms further amplify this content, pushing misogynistic, antifeminist and extremist messages to teenage boys, even those not actively seeking it. This effectively normalises harmful attitudes and behaviours.

Australian sociologist Michael Flood is a professor at Queensland University of Technology’s school of justice. His research centres on gender, masculinity and violence prevention, especially men’s roles in stopping violence against women and promoting gender. He examines links between masculinity and extremist groups. 

Flood is co-author of Masculinity and Violent Extremism. Drawing on empirical research, he analyses extremist forces, from jihadist Islamic to far-right, far-left and white supremacist groups and misogynist online subcultures. He shows how these movements exploit crises of masculinity and feelings of emasculation. They use gendered narratives to recruit men and frame violence as a way to reclaim lost power or status.

He cautions that current global counterterrorism efforts rarely address gendered dimensions of extremism — or ways in which harmful forms of masculinity both drive violence and are embedded within counterterrorism institutions themselves. Flood argues for a nuanced, “masculinities-focused” approach to understanding and preventing violent extremism.

Beyond toxic masculinity, there is the related issue of “toxic passivity” — when men are silent bystanders and facilitators of their peers’ harmful actions.

Wilkinson sees President Cyril Ramaphosa as a prime example.

“Ramaphosa mouths all the right platitudes about GBV, but rates in SA remain in the stratosphere,” says Wilkinson. “His government has failed to address the systemic root causes of GBV.” 

Research consistently links high rates of GBV to structural social breakdown, including the absence of father figures, lack of male mentorship, and chronic youth unemployment.

“Healthy, masculine men challenge abuse, injustice and harmful societal norms and stand up to these evils,” he says. “Passivity allows evil to thrive.”

An aggravating factor is the coexistence of toxic and passive masculinity in one individual, amplifying both. Trump is a shining example with his cringeworthy, servile admiration for Putin. He praises Putin as “smart”, “a strong leader” and “a genius”. He rarely challenges Putin, even when US interests, democratic values and common decency demand it.

This leaves a question in a chapter heading in Ratele’s book: Is the world ready for loving boys?

The signs are not auspicious but Wilkinson is undeterred. Through FAN, his steps to mitigate toxic masculinity include:  

  • Early education: teach boys emotional intelligence and healthy masculinity from a young age.
  • Positive role models: celebrate men who use their strength for good.
  • Community engagement: support fathers and mentors, especially in communities plagued by absent dads.
  • Mental health support: address isolation, depression and shame before they fester.
  • Regulate online spaces: challenge the spread of misogynistic, extremist content that radicalises young boys.

Whatever language is used, Flood reminds us that we need ways “to name influential social norms associated with manhood, critique the harmful attitudes and behaviours some men adopt, and foster healthier lives for men and boys”.

The solution to toxic masculinity, say the experts, is not to erase conventional ideas of masculinity but rather to reimagine a space for boys and men to be loving, vulnerable and strong.

“Until then,” says Wilkinson, “the Andrew Tates of this world will keep filling the void.”

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