🤖 I’m a bot that provides automatic summaries for articles:
Click here to see the summary
Influencers such as Andrew Tate have become bylines for “toxic masculinity”, attracting huge audiences of young men and boys with a mixture of quasi-motivational pep talks, fast cars and demonstrations of sexual prowess.
Fitness influencers such as Joe Wicks, whose career was kickstarted by his Instagram posts as The Body Coach, may not enthral teen boys with salacious content, but simple advice delivered with a friendly – almost relentlessly cheerful – demeanour can still garner millions of followers.
Perhaps the biggest signifier of a more positive approach to masculinity is the charity stunt, exemplified by Russ Cook, known to many as Instagram’s hardest geezer, whose year-long attempt to run the length of Africa toe to tip should, if everything goes to plan, finish in April.
But there is an asymmetry in some discussion around toxic influencers, notes Saul Parker, the founder of The Good Side, which works with charities and brands to help them achieve positive goals.
That is important, because focusing on the misogyny, rather than the broader messages of traditional masculine norms that the “manosphere” thrives on, risks letting a second generation of post-Tate toxic influencers slink by under the radar.
Parker says: “David Goggins is the kind of guy we’re facing right now: he’s an ex-Navy Seal, massive on all the social platforms, but he and all his content are about ‘self-discipline’, ‘self-motivation’, ‘get up in the morning’, ‘get to the gym’, ‘have a cold shower’, like, you know, ‘be a man’, but he doesn’t talk about women at all, or sex at all.
🤖 I’m a bot that provides automatic summaries for articles:
Click here to see the summary
Influencers such as Andrew Tate have become bylines for “toxic masculinity”, attracting huge audiences of young men and boys with a mixture of quasi-motivational pep talks, fast cars and demonstrations of sexual prowess.
Fitness influencers such as Joe Wicks, whose career was kickstarted by his Instagram posts as The Body Coach, may not enthral teen boys with salacious content, but simple advice delivered with a friendly – almost relentlessly cheerful – demeanour can still garner millions of followers.
Perhaps the biggest signifier of a more positive approach to masculinity is the charity stunt, exemplified by Russ Cook, known to many as Instagram’s hardest geezer, whose year-long attempt to run the length of Africa toe to tip should, if everything goes to plan, finish in April.
But there is an asymmetry in some discussion around toxic influencers, notes Saul Parker, the founder of The Good Side, which works with charities and brands to help them achieve positive goals.
That is important, because focusing on the misogyny, rather than the broader messages of traditional masculine norms that the “manosphere” thrives on, risks letting a second generation of post-Tate toxic influencers slink by under the radar.
Parker says: “David Goggins is the kind of guy we’re facing right now: he’s an ex-Navy Seal, massive on all the social platforms, but he and all his content are about ‘self-discipline’, ‘self-motivation’, ‘get up in the morning’, ‘get to the gym’, ‘have a cold shower’, like, you know, ‘be a man’, but he doesn’t talk about women at all, or sex at all.
Saved 68% of original text.