Sitting alone in a cafe, a man quietly waits for his drink. After turning the page on his favorite essay about gender politics, he takes a sip of his matcha latte and hums along to the faint sound of Clairo playing from his wired headphones. He is the new archetype, born between the rise of tote bags and Labubus. On the surface, he’s empathetic and in touch with his emotions, but underneath, it’s all strategy to gain social credibility or a romantic partner. He is the performative male.
Although the term is popularized and relentlessly mocked online, the problem with performative males runs deeper than an internet joke.
As performative men manipulate support for women’s empowerment to match their agendas, the original focus of gender equality diminishes. Putting “I’m a feminist” in a dating app bio might seem harmless, but when the sentiment isn’t backed by action or genuine desire for change, it trivializes the movement. Feminism isn’t a “vibe,” it’s a political struggle rooted in action and creating change. When diluted into a superficial style or trend, the political edge is gone, and what remains is an empty performance that is stripped of substance and any real threat to the status quo.
Performativity doesn’t just fail to help, it causes harm. Younger audiences are left to absorb these curated, shallow images without seeing the work behind it. As a result, distrust grows and leaves a reinforced “male manipulator” stereotype, making it harder to see who is committed to making change from those mimicking the language, traits, and behaviors of genuine people. Young boys learn a damaging dynamic of performing what women want to see is the key to validation instead of developing a sincere understanding of equality and respect. The pressure to appear progressive becomes a social script, creating a reinforced pattern of external acceptance rather than originality.
This obsession with image over integrity distorts everything it touches. The pressure to conform with certain interests, like music taste, fashion, or favorite books, influences self-expression and shapes social manners. Fearing accusations of “trying too hard” or being fake leads to confusion about what is acceptable or not, and people feel forced to hide their true self. This incentivizes people to be as inauthentic as possible, making meaningful communication futile.
When many performative males proudly reference feminist literature or authors such as Jane Austen and Emily Brontë to signal intellectual depth, it reduces these works to social props solely meant for their own benefit. Their radical critiques of patriarchy and gender roles are lost, and their ability to spark authentic engagement is watered down into an Instagram caption, ultimately setting back material efforts for change.
Real allyship doesn’t come from mimicking the “right” traits; it comes from listening, learning, and doing the hard, unglamorous work of change. Feminism is not here to accessorize identity, it’s supposed to dismantle systems of oppression. When activism becomes performance, the movement stands still.
