Inside the Brendosphere
I’m a big documentary guy. So I was excited to check out Louis Theroux’s Netflix documentary Inside the Manosphere about the proliferation of misogynist influencers on the internet and beyond. I have always dug Theroux’s style and I was not disappointed. A few takeaways:
Wow - this is depressing as fuck! Watching these insecure, terrified, and clearly miserable men try to convince the world (and themselves) how happy and successful they are was a serious bummer. Their misery was so transparent. I was depressed for days after watching it. Seeing that kind of self-delusion and obvious suppression of trauma always sticks to me.
“Wait, Brendo,” you may ask as a crypto bro in a cybertruck cuts you off on his way to the GNC outlet, “You actually feel bad for these assholes?” Yeah, I do. Sure, it’s easy to be mad. Anger was my first response. These grifters are targeting the vulnerable with poisonous ideas for their own gain. It is unconscionable. But the thing Theroux does so well is look these guys in the eye and ask “Who are you?” In short order, Theroux allows them to expose themselves for the sad, wounded children they are, lashing out at any possible thing that makes them look “weak.” Of course they are responsible for their actions. But there is a world that created them. And that world makes me quite sad. As for the children they influence…
Wow - this is scary as fuck! The most chilling parts of the documentary are the moments when fans run up and fawn all over these sexist streamers like they’re goddamn rock stars. The fans are all teenage boys (usually with blurred out faces, adding an unintentionally haunting effect) and young men who are SO excited to see them. These dummies are their heroes! I don’t get it. It’s like they’re meeting Megatron from the Transformers in real life or something!
In the doc, Theroux shines a spotlight on what these guys are selling (“Get rich! Get laid! Get respect!”). It is an appealing product to young men, particularly ones without strong male figures or options to better their stations in life. These misogynist messengers are obsessed with ‘value’ and equate that with money and power and pussy. It’s a hard message to counterprogram with the things that are (in my opinion) of real value in life. (“Check out this Tik Tok of me working through my deep-seated insecurity with a partner I trust, leading to true vulnerable intimacy! It’s in three thousand one-minute parts! Smash that like button!”) I can’t imagine content featuring healthy emotional growth competing very well in the algorithm against fast cars and OnlyFans models with giant cans. But hey - maybe that kind of emotionally healthy counterprogramming is out there. I wouldn’t know because…
Wow - I am out of the loop as fuck! After watching the documentary, I read some reviews and online responses. There was a lot of “Who is this documentary for? Everybody already knows these guys!” [Sheepishly raises hand.] I guess it’s for me! Because I had no idea who the fuck these people were. I had vaguely heard terms like the ‘manosphere.’ The name ‘Andrew Tate’ drifted into my consciousness, although I think I assumed he played for the 90’s Detroit Pistons or something. I had read articles about how these podcast bros were infecting politics and whipping up the ‘hate vote’ for Trump. But honestly - I am mostly ignorant of these voices. When a friend told me Charlie Kirk got shot, my first question was “Who is that?”
Looking back, I made a choice somewhere along the line to stop ‘keeping up’ with certain elements of the culture. Reality TV was the tipping point, I think. I just didn’t see the value in it for me. So I ignored it. So when Youtubers and podcasters and social media influencers followed, I had the same reaction: why do I give a fuck what these people say? They’re not experts. They’re not great talents. They’re not worth my time. So I tuned them out. It was actually remarkably easy. My connection with social media is generally pretty light. And since I am of the last generation that grew up offline, nothing that was happening online ever seemed to be ‘real life’ to me. Then - as documentaries like Theroux’s and Cullen Hoback’s excellent Q: Into the Storm about the QAnon movement showed - these ‘fake’ people and ideas and movements burst into our reality in the most horrifying, dystopian way. I confess - I was totally ignorant of how real this stuff was for people.
So the question is - what do I do about it now? Would it help me to spend time plugging into social media more and being more aware of the culture? Should I start arguing with incels on Reddit? Or am I better off drifting further into middle age in my offline bubble, focusing my limited energy on the things that matter to me and the differences I can make in ‘real life’? I’m not sure, although I think I’m leaning toward the latter. Admit it - you are jealous of how long I was able to live a Charlie Kirk-free life.
The proliferation of misogyny in the culture isn’t a simple issue. Clearly, there is a socioeconomic basis to a lot of it. Wealth disparity breeds discontent which brings the hate peddlers out of the woodwork. The rise of Trump bros is a symptom, not a cause. But it’s hard not for me to think of one simple solution: these guys would be ok if they all had a dad like mine. Because…
Wow - in the dad department, I got lucky as fuck!. My dad fucking ruled. He hugged us and cried and laughed and told us he loved us and accepted us for who we were. He rejected competitiveness and violence and suppressed anger and dickhead masculinity (he would laughingly refer to the aggressive assholes I had to deal with in high school as “cocky hockey jockeys.”) My brothers and I were allowed to express all our emotions and knew we were loved no matter what. Most importantly, he treated my mother as an absolute total equal. There was no division of duties along gender role lines. He didn’t just love my mother - he respected her. They were 50/50 partners all the way. Growing up around this, it didn’t even occur to me that men and women are all that different. We all want the same things: to be loved, accepted, and respected. The “what women really want” crowd don’t get this idea because they never got loved, accepted, and respected themselves or saw it in their homes growing up. It breaks my heart.
I’ve written in the past about how a young Brendan might have been vulnerable to some of these hateful ideas had things gone in another direction. But on reflection, I don’t think that would have ever happened. Not with my dad around. My dad’s example of a kind, vulnerable, respectful man gave me the ultimate armor against the simplified seduction of misogyny.
I wish he could have been everyone’s dad.
Boogie Writes is a completely independent endeavor by one hard-working funnyman trying to make his way in the world today (which takes everything you’ve got.) If you like what you read, please subscribe, support, and tell a friend! Also - do you need advice? Of course you do! Send your queries to brendan@brendanboogie.com with “Dear Boogie” in the subject and get some solid or at least passable advice!